Fallen Apples

by DontBeThatGuy

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Human, Tragedy
Length: 4702

Sergeant Andrea Jackson and half of her squad get cut off from the rest of their platoon in an ambush in Afghanistan.

Sergeant AJ is stuck with one of her teams (lead by Sgt Dash) away from the rest of their unit. They must work together to survive, when it feels like everybody with an AK47 is aiming at them.

Art by http://dori-to.deviantart.com/

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-22 21:06:30 UTC

Fallen Apples

The tires on the Humvee bounced over the rough dirt road, jostling the inhabitants every few seconds.

“Shit, your driving is going to kill us before Al Qaeda does. Watch the damn road and avoid some of the holes.” Andrea Jackson said from the passenger seat after a bounce nearly put her head into the roof.

“Sergeant, I can’t help it if they can’t make a damn decent road around here. Don’t blame me!” The driver replied, cheekily.  The driver was a unique soldier in AJ’s squad, the only one who devoted all her extra time to whatever books she could get her hands on. Lately, she had been reading up on electricity and technology, earning her the nickname ‘Sparks.’ The Squad Leader turned to her Team Leader, a cockeyed grin on her face.

“Dash, you gonna tolerate this insubordination?” Dash, aptly nicknamed due to her speed, replied with equal sincerity.

“Hell Sarn’t,” Dash said, using the colloquial abbreviation for ‘Sergeant,’ “I was gonna give her a damn medal. She almost knocked Tee out of the damn turret! That shit would have been hi-larious.” Dash chuckled, referring to one of the strangest people to join the military. Well, maybe strange wasn’t the right word, just… atypical. She was always concerned with how she looked, even downrange. She was always fixing her uniform to make sure it looked perfect to a T. She was not necessarily wanting to be the a line unit soldier, but it was a necessary stop between her and the Guard of the Unknown Soldier. Those were some perfect uniforms, and she wanted a part of it.

“Sarn’t, I think there’s a mosquito on your face, let me help you,” she said, leaning down from the turret.

“Get back up there, shithead,” Dash rapped on Tee’s helmet with her hard knuckle gloves. Tee grumbled, but returned to her position. Dash turned the platoon medic. “Hey Flutters,” Dash called out.

“Yes Sarn’t?” Flutters had earned her nickname back stateside because of her affection for avian pets. She had quite a few birds, and took exceptional care of them.

“You’ve got R&R coming up in a week or two, right?”

“Negative, Sarn’t.”

“That’s me, Sarn’t!” Dash turned to face the bubbly voice.

“Pinkie?” Pinkie had gotten her nickname for a very simple reason. She liked pink. It was pretty much everywhere in her quarters.

“Yes, Sarn’t!”

“Whatcha gonna do when you get home?”

“I’m gonna party, Sarn’t!”

“Hell yes, that’s the shit I’m talking about. Just don’t think too much about R&R yet, we’ve still got a job to do here.”

“Sarn’t, I bring the party wherever I go!” She said, lifting up her belt fed M249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW). She tapped her SAW a few times, before dropping it back down onto her leg.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Dash punched Pinkie in the shoulder. “How about you, Sarn’t? What are you gonna do for R&R?”

“Dash, I’m not taking R&R for a while,” AJ replied.

“Indulge me, Sarn’t.”

“Go see my family. That’s the only reason to go home, for me.”

“See, Pinkie. Our Sergeant here is a family woman. She writes home every day.”

“That’s not true.”

“Don’t lie, to me Sarn’t. I’ve seen you writing those letters.”

“I write, but I don’t send.”

“What do you mean, Sarn’t?” Pinkie cut in.

“I write a bit to my family each day, but I don’t send letters. I dunno, I guess I just don’t want them to hear about the shit we have to do and start worrying. Alright Sparks, the question’s on the table. What are you gonna do for R&R? And if you say ‘read,’ Imma slap the shit out of you.”

“What about research?”

“Sparks!” The Sarn’t shouted, waving her finger menacingly. Sparks cringed, pulling away from her NCO.

“Honestly Sarn’t, there’s some shit about magnetic fields I want to read up on, maybe do some tests.” AJ shook her head, in mock disgust.

“How in the hell is she in the Infantry?” she said with a wry grin.

“I like the idea of working with the best, Sarn’t.”

“Best? Hell, the infantry is the lowest you can get. The damn minimum on the ASVAB,” The sergeant said in a surprised voice, referring to the test designed to measure intelligence of recruits coming into the military.

“I define ‘best,’ different then ‘smartest,’ Sarn’t.”

“Oh yeah? How do you define it?”

“The best are the ones who are have the strongest bonds. The ones who will take bullets for each other, unquestioningly. It’s more about a strength of character then an academic strength.”

“Damn philosopher,” Pinkie muttered in the back.

“You keep your mouth shut, or I’ll electrify your bunk.” Sparks shouted, glancing behind her. Pinkie swallowed nervously.

“Can you do that?”

“Do you wanna test me?” A burst of radio traffic interrupted their friendly banter. AJ grabbed the mic and replied appropriately.

“Affirmative, Dragon One-Seven. Kilo-Whiskey, two niner four four, zero one eight two,” AJ repeated the numbers of a grid coordinate while writing them down on the Rite In The Rain notepad she kept in her cargo pockets. “Roger.  Dragon One-One, out.”

“What’s up, sarn’t?” Dash asked from the back.

“Turn this shit around, we got somewhere to go.”

“What? We were just finishing the patrol!” Complained Tee from the turret.

“The Forward Operating Base was just hit with rockets, we’re checking the village near the launch point for any jihadists.  Oh, and we’re the lead vehicle for this, so keep your eyes peeled.”

“Shit, and just when I thought I was going to be getting a good night’s sleep.”

“Hell, you should know better than that by now. Saddle up guys, we’re driving into the lion’s den.”

*** *** *** *** ***

“Shit, those guys are not friendly,” Tee muttered from the turret. “Hey guys, 10 o’clock, two men on top of the roof. Unarmed, but with some sort of radios.

“Fuck, and not a civilian in sight. We’re gonna get hit. Stay sharp!” AJ said to her vehicle. Every head in the vehicle was pivoting constantly, just waiting for the right moment to open fire.

“One guy at one o’clock. Hey, he’s giving us a thumb’s up!” Pinkie said from the backseat, hope returning to her voice.

“Pinkie, that’s their version of the middle finger.”

“Shit.” A few minutes rolled past, void of any sign of life.

“It’s a goddamn ghost town.” The road twisted up ahead; they had to make a sharp turn to avoid running over all the stands in the center of the market. The Humvee slowed to make the turn. Dash broke the deathly silence. A solitary figure stood on the roof, wielding the shoulder mounted weapon.

“RPG, left side! Go, go, go!” The Humvee’s engine roared, the tires spun frantically on the dirt road, showering the space behind them in a deluge of debris. The RPG missed the Humvee by inches, exploding on the building adjacent to them. Tee was showered with molten fragments, clinging to and melting through her uniform. Every single window in the village burst aglow with weapons fire. There are times when you can see fire going around you, and know that you are in danger. And there are other times that you know someone sees you and wants to end specifically your life. This was the latter. Tee could see the tracers arcing towards her, filling the air around her with burning hot rounds. The rounds dug into the metal of the shield around the .50 Caliber machine gun she was manning, and bounced off the top of the Humvee next to her. The weapon display terrified her into inaction. She sat there motionless, mouth slightly agape as she watched what would certainly be her doom unfold before her.

“Tee! Shoot the fuck back!”

“Right!”  Tee depressed the triggers with her thumb; the M2 browning roared, hot casings bouncing off the deck of the Humve, quickly accumulating into a sizable pile of brass. The second Humvee in the column caught up, throwing its own M2 into the mix. The surrounding buildings seemed to whither under the sustained fire. A thunderous explosion knocked Tee to her knees.

“The fuck was that?”

“IED!” The second Humvee’s flaming carcass tumbled overhead, blasted skyhigh by the massive bomb. It landed with a crunch upside down in the market and slid a few meters, kicking up a duststorm. The torso of the second Humvee’s gunner lay in road, a blood trail leading to his legs still in the vehicle.

“Hostile vehicles, nine o’clock!” Four trucks with crudely mounted turrets burst into view from an alleyway, firing a deadly barrage against the American soldiers. The high caliber bullets clattered viciously against the vehicle, fracturing the glass until it was nigh impossible to see through.

“Fucking floor it, get out of the killzone!”  The engine roared, the Humvee lurching forward on deflated tires.

“RPG, 10 o’clock!” Tee shifted the barrel up and right, guiding the flaring red tracers to their intended target. The rounds tore into the figure, ripping apart the torso and sending limbs flying to the streets. A trail of smoke  shot from the tube as it fell to the ground.

“Fuck!” The round detonated on the front of the vehicle, stopping the engine in a shattering blast.  The windshield shattered even further.

“Is everyone alright?” AJ shouted, ears ringing. Lips moved in response, but she couldn’t hear a single word said. The faint ‘thump thump’ of the M2 Browning above her was the only noise she could make out.  She shouted again, but couldn’t make out the responses.  She glanced around, weighing her options. She kicked open the door, putting her boots into the street. She whirled, yanking open the second door.

“Let’s go, outside, now!” She grabbed Pinkie’s vest, hauling her outside and slamming her against the front tire. Pinkie snapped open the bipod, cracking her SAW down on the hood. She squeezed the trigger, rattling off rounds into nearby windows, forcing enemies to duck their heads for at least a second. Dash jumped out the back of the Humvee, hauling ass around the side to the front of the Humvee. She popped the door open, grabbing Sparks by the collar.

“Let’s go, fucking run!” Sparks jumped out, slinging her M4 around her neck as she burst from the frame. Bullets smacked all around them, kicking up clouds of dirt at their feet and forming small bursts of shrapnel as it impacted the Humvee behind them. The two kicked up a dust storm at their feet as the tore around behind the Humvee and across the street. Sparks smacked into the wall on the left side of the doorway. Dash kicked mightily, bashing the door open. Sparks swung inside, moving left. Dash followed, curving right. Dash stopped halfway up the right wall, scanning from left to right.

“Hallway on left!” The two stacked up on the hallway, preparing to go around the corner.

“Go!” Sparks pivoted around the corner, kneeling in a fluid motion. Dash smashed her elbows into Sparks’ shoulders, steadying her weapon. Two figures sprinted down the hallways, wielding AK-47s. Weapons roared, single trigger pulls firing steadily between automatic AK-47 bursts. The 7.62 rounds chewed into the walls and floor nearby the two soldiers pulling the trigger as fast as they humanly could.  Sparks jerked, falling over onto the floor. Dash kept firing until the terrorists had ceased moving.

“Sparks, you good?” Sparks winced from bruising.

“I’m good, I took a round to the plates.”

“Fuckin’ don’t scare me like that,” she said, helping her up. Dash reloaded, replacing the mostly depleted magazine with a fresh one, and then covered the hallway while Sparks reloaded herself.  The two moved up, Sparks still on point. The duo halted an arm’s length from the entry into the next room, waiting a second. Sparks felt a tap on her shoulder. She moved into the room, swinging right. The barrel of her weapon smashed muzzle first into the torso of man, throwing him off balance.  She felt the heat of automatic weapon fire on her side as he emptied a full magazine of AK-47 into the ceiling. She stood over the man, who was struggling to load another magazine. She ripped five rounds into his torso, then kicked the weapon away. More gunfire erupted next to her, but nothing struck her so she didn’t give a fuck.

“Clear!”

“One up!”

“Two up!”

“Alright, hold your position here. I’ll get the others to help set up Three-Hundred and Sixty degree security.” Dash charged back into the other room. The others had just finished collapsing inside the building.  Tee was backing into the room, firing her M4. She whirled around, ducking inside. With a swipe of her arm, she swung the door closed. A burst of fire tore a series of holes in the door where she had stood just moments before. Pinkie had her SAW propped up against the window. She fired short bursts wherever she saw a flash of light in the growing darkness. Incoming fire tore into the wall she was using for cover, tossing up plumes of dirt, rock, and brick. She spotted a silhouette moving along the roof, hoisting a slender tube on its shoulder. She shifted her fire up, squeezing the trigger. Red tracers licked the roof, carving a path of death in the air, eating into the chest cavity of its target. A strangled shout followed the exchange as the victim collapsed to the ground.  Pinkie dropped down behind the wall completely, shifting off to the side. She popped open the top of the weapon, and fished out a fresh magazine of 200 rounds from her assault pack.

“Is everyone ok?” AJ reiterated, now that they were inside, and the gunfight had momentarily stopped.

“Yeah, everyone’s 100%. We’ll be black on ammo real soon though if we have to continue fighting at this intensity for long,” Dash said, referring to the Army’s method of approximating readiness. Green was 100% ready for a fight, amber was slightly diminished capabilities, maybe 70%. Red was a significant degradation of capabilities the equivalent of 40%. Black, however, was mission incapable. Under 10% would be a generous estimate. If they were black on ammo, they would at most be on their last magazine. AJ nodded in acknowledgement.

“Where’s Sparks?”

“Next room, making sure Joe Jihad doesn’t sneak up on us.”

“Tee, go help her,” AJ instructed.

“Hooah.” Tee acknowledged with the Army’s one word response for everything. Long ago, it had been an acronym, HUA. Heard, Understood, and Acknowledged. It had long since evolved from that though, and could be heard in almost any situation to mean a variety of things. In this case though, it was a simple acknowledgement. Tee jogged to the next room, simultaneously checking the readiness of her weapon. AJ turned to the shaken medic.

“How you holding up, Flutters?” Flutters swallowed nervously before stammering,

“F-Fine, Sergeant.”

“Scared?”

“To death.”

“That’s normal. You’ll get over it. First firefight?” Flutters nodded, eyes wide as saucers. “Well, it won’t be your last.” AJ moved over to the SAW gunner.

“How you doing, Pinkie?”

“Sarn’t, we’re cut off from the rest of the platoon, and I’ve already burned through half my ammo. I’m concerned.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be staying here for long.” AJ left Pinkie with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Dash sidled up to AJ, grabbing her by the shoulder and leaning close.

“Sarn’t, all the communication gear is in the Humvee, how are we going to tell the Platoon Leader where we are without the commo?”

“We’ll shout to him.”

“We’ll have to get real close to him. Do you know where he is?”

“I’m assuming he’s doing the rational thing, putting up security around the Humvee that got hit right behind us, making sure they get everyone out of there, before coming to find us.”

“Fuck, we’re going to have to go outside, then.”

“Either that or let them overrun us. This building ain’t exactly defensible,” AJ said. Dash nodded in agreement.

“Roger Sarn’t, we’re ready to move out as soon as you are.” AJ sighed, shaking the stress and worry from her mind.

“Let’s go.” Dash rounded the troops up, moving them out the back sharply. Dash directed Sparks to the point man position. Sparks moved to the front of the formation, eyeing Pinkie as she moved to her rear. Not out of distrust, but more out of a meaningful look of ‘Bro, you got my back, right?’ Pinkie returned the subtlest of nods. Tee was on Sparks’ right, staggered back a few meters. The column continued all the way back, staggered from left to right as they moved through the back alleys.

Sparks moved through the rubbish littering the alleyway, pushing away the garbage with her booted foot. She gripped the grip of her rifle tightly, keeping it just below eye level. She didn’t trust the surrounding area at all. Her eyes glanced from window to window, flitted between alleyways, and checked roofs. Sweat dripped down her brow, partly from the oppressive heat, partly from her intense concentration.

Her thumb tapped the safety, ready to toggle it to fire at the first sign of trouble. Gunfire still sounded through the air between their platoon and the resident terrorists. She was just hoping she didn’t run into a big pack of them. Window shutters slammed above her to the right. She whirled, dropped to a knee, snapped the safety off. She drew a bead on the closed shutters with her sights. She paused, waiting to see if anything would happen. No one fired out the window, and she couldn’t see anyone through the closed, wooden shutters, so she snapped the safety back on and continued walking.

AJ moved along the right side of the alleyway, about an arm’s length from the wall, She kept her M4 rifle half raised, moving cautiously, eyeing the rooftops cautiously. She kept her eye on a few open windows as well. She was pleased at how they were moving. Slowly, but cautiously. They didn’t have too far to go, so they could afford the caution at the expense of speed. Plus, there were a shitload of bad guys in the area, and she didn’t want to fight them all. She tugged on the magazine in her weapon, double checking to make sure it was seated correctly. She passed by a window, catching a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. She spun, seeing nothing. She continued on, watching carefully.

Right in front of her, Tee was scanning dutifully. Just behind Tee, the muzzle of an AK-47 pushed out of a window. AJ shouted a warning, sprinting forwards. AJ tackled Tee to the ground as the weapon opened fire, the first few shots going wide. AJ covered Tee with her body as AK rounds raked the ground all around them. Pinkie hoisted her SAW, firing off a long burst, shredding the shooter’s torso. The whole alleyway seemed to spring to life, as if waiting for that one moment. Heads, shoulders, and weapons popped out of many windows, strafing the alleyway with a deadly hailstorm of metal. The team returned fire as best as they could, Sparks and Pinkie providing as much fire as they could while Dash and Flutters grabbed their two comrades on the ground and hauled them to another alley, and to temporary safety.

“Fuck, I’ve been hit!” Tee, called out. She was terrified. She was wounded, there was blood all over her. She could die in this dusty street, far away from her family. She ran her hands over her body, looking for the source of the crimson blood that was all over her uniform. Dash dropped to a knee next to her.

“Where are you hit?” Dash started grabbing Tee’s limbs, looking for the wound. AJ struggled to her feet, walked a few paces, then toppled over into a pool of blood and dirt.

“Shit,” Flutters shouted, dashing over to AJ’s body. Blood spurted in geysers from her leg wound. Flutters tore at AJ’s medical kit, ripping it open with a viciousness borne from desperation. She quickly pulled the tourniquet from pack, quickly wrapping it around the leg, as high as she could get it. Flutters swore under her breath at the wound. The blood that was pumping up into her face made her hands slippery and was smeared all over her eye protection. She took a sleeve, trying to wipe it clear, but only served to smear it a bit more. She cranked down the tourniquet a few more times, finally getting the bleeding to stop. “You’re gonna be fine, Sarn’t.” Flutters shook AJ’s shoulder, AJ responded feebly, barely conscious from blood loss.

“Fuck, we need to go. Sparks, Pinkie, let’s move out!” Dash shouted. The two soldiers who were guarding their flank, jumped up, moving up to protect the injured. Flutters grabbed the unconscious sergeant, hoisting her into a fireman’s carry.

“What about me, am I good?” Tee asked, still checking herself for injuries. Flutters looked her up and down.

“That’s not your blood, it’s the Sergeant’s.”

“Right,” Tee muttered, still shaken. She got into the right position in the formation. The team moved down the alleyway, trading bullets every so often, more trying to discourage people from poking their heads out than anything else. A few minutes of running, and they spotted a familiar vehicle. A Humvee stood around the corner, still engaged in the firefight.

“Flash!” Dash heard someone shout out from their Platoon’s line of security.

“Thunder!” She replied with appropriate response to avoid getting shot. A friendly face popped around the corner, a look of immense relief spreading across his face, seeing the missing team. He gestured with his hands to hurry. The team sprinted inside, quickly turning and helping lay their wounded Squad Leader on the ground. Blood streamed from AJs mouth, streaming down her cheek and dripping onto the ground below to make dark red mud. Dash looked down, noting three holes in the side of AJs vest.

“Flutters, get over here!”

“Hold on, I need an IV!” Flutters sprinted away, grabbing a bag of A+ blood from the back of the Humvee.

“Shit, Sarge, you’ll be fine. We’re back with the Platoon now, everyone’s safe,” Dash said reassuringly.

“Everyone’s safe?”

“Roger, Sarn’t.”

“Good, good,” she mumbled. She fumbled with her vest, trying to pull out a wad of papers.

“What’s that, Sergeant?”

“Letters to my family.” Dash looked at the letter, then at AJ. Back at the letters, then back to AJ.

“No.” Dash said her voice trembling a little. She tried to push AJs hand away, which was firmly clasping the stack of letters.

“Dash, take these letters,” she said, holding up the stack of papers, stained on the edges with crimson.

“No, you’ll give them to your family yourself!”

“Dash, listen to me! We both know. The femoral artery plus my insides being scrambled, I’m not coming around.”

“Sergeant, don’t you fucking dare.”

“Dash,” AJ said sternly. Dash squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling from her cheeks. Dash grabbed the letters and AJs hand. Both their hands shook involuntarily, wavering back and forth in the air rapidly.

“Ok.”

“Promise me you’ll give them to my family yourself,” Dash nodded.

“I will, I will.” AJ reached up, grabbing Dash’s vest, pulling her closer.

“Dash, when you get there, tell them it was painless. Tell them that I died for them, and that I love them. You tell them how I fought for them and… and…” AJs voice trailed off, her head lolling to the side. The pool of crimson beneath her mixed with salty tears.

*** *** *** *** ***

The long bus ride to the apple orchards of Washington had been unhelpful to say the least. She had had nothing to distract her from the memories. The memories of why she was here, these many months later. She could still hear the First Sergeant, the highest ranking Non-Commissioned Officer in her company shouting the roll call in their Forward Operating Base.

“Dash!”

“Here, First Sergeant!”

“Flutters!”

"Here, First Sergeant!"

“Jackson!” There had been no response.

“Sergeant Jackson!” Again, silence.

“Sergeant Andrea J. Jackson!” A trumpets sounded Taps, the final military song to be played for her. Just outside, the sounds of weapons seven rifles could be heard.

“Ready, fire!” The seven rifles fired simultaneously, echoing throughout the countryside. Two more volleys were fired before the ceremony was over.

Yup, she could remember that ceremony like it was yesterday. In fact, she couldn’t stop remembering it the entire bus ride. The bus slowed to a stop, and Dash excited the bus with a few polite words to the bus driver.  She stepped onto the street, and looked around. She stuffed her hand into her pocket, retrieving a folded up piece of printout of google maps she had made this morning. She squinted at the paper, the details of the map lost to the creases, trying to learn its secrets. A quick comparison of streets, and she decided to go down the eastward road.

Fuck this was the worst part. Dash walked down a dirt road, dreading what to come. That bus was the closest connection she had to modern civilization. Thick apple orchards obscured her view of any houses in the area. But she had her faded map, she knew it was here. It had to be close. She spotted a simple pathway, leading up to a large, wooden building next to a silo. This was it.

She strode up the building, her confidence waning. It was a whole lot easier to go into a firefight then to do… this. How was she even going to bring it up. The chaplains had been out here months ago to break the news, but she doubted that the family wanted to have it brought up again. No need to re-open old wounds. But… she had made a promise. She hesitated, smelling the scent of ripened apples, gazing around at the orchards as if to gain some sort of encouragement from it all. She knocked, three times. The door opened slowly, a large farmboy stood inside the door.  He looked to be about 25 or so, but had seen many years of labor under the sun, all of which could be easily seen on his reddened skin and worn jeans and red plaid shirt.

“Can I help you?”

“Is this the Jackson residence?”

“It is.” He reached into one of his pockets, grabbing a can of dip.

“Are the parents of Andrea Jackson around?” The paused a second before he snapped the can. He looked at his visitor, then out into the distance.

“Ma and Pa have been dead for many a-year, ma’am,” he said slowly, bringing his hand down.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Then you must be her brother.”

“Eeyup. I mean uh, yes, ma’am. Call me Mac,” he said, extending a hand.

“Okay, Mac.” She said, shaking his hand. “I uh… served under your sister. I was there when she was… when she died. Just before she died, she gave me this, and made me swear to bring it to her family. So… here.” She offered him the stack of papers, which he took graciously, not quite sure how to react.

“Thanks.” The two stood there awkwardly, neither one daring to make eye contact. Dash finally broke the silence.

“Ok, I should go.”

“Wait!” He said, with an outstretched hand. “Please, Ma’am, come inside. We would love to talk to you, if just for a moment.”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing some nervousness. She stepped inside the farm house, and breathed a sigh of relief.  She glanced over at the walls, noting a few pictures of AJ in her uniform. She had fought bravely. She had died for those she loved. She only hoped she could convey it as well as she knew it. Maybe it could bring some peace to those left behind.

*** *** *** *** ***

And when our work is done

Our course on earth is run

May it be said

Well done, be thou at peace

1LT DAVID R BERNSTEIN

14 APR 1979 – 18 OCT 2003

http://www.freedomremembered.com/index.php/1st-lt-david-richard-bernstein/