6. Retaliation
We’ve never woken up peacefully, but this day was different for the worst.
As I was sleeping I dreamed. I dreamed my mother wasn’t an alcoholic. I dreamed my sister came home the day she ran away; I dreamed I had a dad. Everything was right. Then I woke up and looked at my cot, my rifle next to me, and the endless sand outside, and my dreams died.
Tink Tink I heard. I got that feeling of your gut tightening when you’re in trouble. Because that noise is a noise a soldier can’t mistake for anything else… it was a hand grenade.
BOOM! I heard an explosion downstairs. I grabbed my weapons and went to the stairwell. A swarm of South American soldiers flooded through a hole through our wall. The one who threw the hand grenade was using the door as cover. I shot him in the shoulder as soon as he leaned over. “Guys!” I screamed, calling for help. They all charged down and I dropped to the floor to avoid their fire. All I could see were legs, so I started shooting at their shins. As one of them had to reload, I rolled down the steps with my shoulder and started picking more off.
The mob showed resiliency, but eventually, it subsided into nothing. After that, we hurried outside, tripping on dead bodies. When we walked outside, we saw a cargo truck we knew had to be filled with soldiers. We didn’t have enough bullets to fight them all off, but then, I remembered something that would help us fight them.

Remote in his hand, two land mines forty feet away.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting,”
“Waiting for them.”
“Ty!” I yelled. “Those mines you planted! Where’s the remote.” It took him a minute, but when he understood. On his belt were numerous remotes. He grabbed a handheld one with a green button. He waited until the truck was forty feet away. “Three…two… one.” He counted down. Click The mines sent the cargo truck spinning until it eventually flipped over. It stopped. Abe put his hand up, signaling for us to wait. He slowly walked towards the truck aiming at the back. I held my breathe, hoping nothing would happen to Abe, or anybody else here. He fired in the back of the truck, with a semi-automatic-sounding combat shotgun. He eventually signaled we could move.
“Where are we going?” Twitch asked. Abe turned around. “Honestly, I don’t know. Trent held a crucifix in his hand, praying, and thanking god for keeping us all alive. Abe pulled out a walkie-talkie “Come in all battalions.” He called in. “Rodger” repeated by the other four battalions. “We’ve taken fire, need assistance.” He begged. “What battalion?” One asked. “Battalion five.” Abe responded regretfully. Silence. “Hello? Hello?” Abe checked. No response- they didn’t want to deal with failures. Abe cursed and threw the walkie-talkie, he didn’t need it anymore.
We were stuck, alone, and we all knew it, but we couldn’t give up. Abe stood on the top of the cargo truck, his height making him tower over us even more. “Alright men, we may be the worst of the bunch, but I don’t give a damn. I think we should make a name for ourselves. We should address the fighting fearlessly, because to them, we’re already dead! Whoever wants to help give battalion five a good name and seek vengeance on these South American soldiers, follow me!
We all cheered, marching toward South American territory. I felt infinite.