Free-Fire Zone by Chris Lynch Read Free Book Online

thing, the search-and-destroy mission. It means we have intelligence about an enemy installation — we know where they are, and we are supposed to ride in and blow the daylights out of them. It is the opposite of the scouting patrols that once made up the bulk of our duties. On those, there was the overwhelming feeling that, honestly, we were there as much to attract enemy fire as we were to do any real scouting. Because when somebody shoots at you, they tend to give their position away. It isn’t a very comforting feeling.
    Not that getting our guys shot up and blown up and all that was ever the plan, but the Marines are the Marines and we would do whatever it took to get the job accomplished, even if it cost lives.
    Somebody up top stopped feeling that way at some point. Word came down, and the word was: no more casualties. And so we’ve been getting more cautious.
    But while we don’t want to absorb any more casualties, nobody said anything about dishing out any less. In fact, body counts are the way we are keeping score now, and that too has come down from way up. And places where we used to have to go on tiptoe and trynot to upset the locals even when the locals already wanted our scalps, well, a lot of those places have been designated free-fire zones now.
    I get goose bumps just thinking that in my head. Free-fire zones.
    Just like search and destroy, free-fire zones are just what they sound like they are — fire freely, gentlemen, fire freely.
    â€œWell?” Cpl. McClean says, poking his head in the door behind Cherry. “Everybody tooled up?”
    Barks. Woofs and howls and yips and every other animal noise our talents will allow are the answers to that question.
    â€œGood, because our ride is here, and the lieutenant is rarin’ to go.”
    All noise stops as quick as if somebody lifted the needle off the record.
    â€œThe who is rarin’ to what ?” says Marquette.
    McClean gets a big, mean grin across his face. “That’s right, soldiers. This is an important mission.”
    Marquette claps his hands loudly once, then again, then rubs them together. “You mean this is an easy mission,” he says, and everybody breaks up laughing.
    Sorry, that would be almost everybody.
    â€œSo you don’t need me, then,” Squid says, lying back down on his bunk half-dressed.
    â€œEverybody!” Cpl. Cherry barks. “We expect to see every one of you outside in ten minutes, ready to saddle up.”
    As the two corporals head on out, Squid just lies motionless.
    I make my way over to his bunk, crouch down beside him. I feel Hunter hovering over my shoulder while the other guys go on as if nothing is the matter.
    â€œWhat are you doing, man?” I ask Squid.
    â€œSleeping this one out,” he says.
    â€œYou can’t do that,” I say.
    â€œI’m gonna try.”
    â€œWhat’s the matter with you?” Hunter says.
    â€œI thought this was all over,” Squid says. “We haven’t been doing nothing. I liked it. I told my dad it was over. I only got a month left, and I know how this stuff works. We see no action for ages, then I stick my head out there and get it shot off, just in time to go home. Just like the movies.”
    â€œIt’s not like the movies,” I say. “Nothing here is anything like any movie I ever saw.”
    â€œShut up already,” Marquette says. “Let him stay if he’s gonna be like that. We don’t need him.”
    â€œI only got a month left. I don’t want to search and destroy nothin’. I only got a month left, guys.”
    â€œYeah,” I say, “I think you mentioned that.”
    â€œI want to see my dad.”
    I mentioned that Squid is a good guy. He is probably the guy who is liked best in the squad, mostly because he never does a thing that anybody could get bothered about. He has never balked at an order, a request, a suggestion, even.
    Not ’til