Clio and Cy: The Apocalypse (11 page)

“All men were made by the Great Spirit Chief.
They are all brothers.”

-Chief Joseph

Both Vulcan helicopters soared farther over the ocean than
when they’d come in to rescue the SEALs. Exhausted from battle, they headed
back home, no worse for wear.

Lance Cpl. Jimmy Woolridge sat back on the jump seat and
looked down at the corpsman attending to the fallen SEAL. His color was coming
back to that of the normal shade of a living person. Jimmy pulled out the
picture of his brother and ran his eyes over it; he’d memorized every color and
curve in the photograph. Thinking back to those memories of them that often
invaded his mind; he realized they weren’t so perfectly outlined anymore.

Lifting his head, Jimmy’s eyes roamed over the other men in
jump seats lining the side of the helicopter.
I miss him so much
, he thought, thinking of Mark as he gazed out a porthole,
seeing the expanse of ocean stretching as if it were liquid glass falling off
the edge of earth.

The blue water reminded him of his mother… but Mark invaded
his thoughts. Even in death, SSGT Mark Woolridge was still a hard charging
Marine. Jimmy’s brother fought for attention with spirit, just as he’d always
done in life.

Growing up, Jimmy felt like a typical younger brother that
would never measure up. His older brother’s greatness always seemed out of…
reach. In a way, Jimmy felt like a cheaper knock-off. To Jimmy, he was an
imitation that would forever be relegated under the cover of his brother’s
shadow. Those thoughts, however, were challenged after one particular day.

One event played in his head. Thinking of a time before the
war started, Jimmy reminisced on a day when he and Mark played by the lake as
they often did. Their joyful afternoon was brought to a painful halt. It was,
or it seemed at the time, a horrific accident.

***

Oregon: Tall trees surrounded the brothers on a lake. They frolicked
with super charged hormones.

It had become their favorite summer spot. They’d made a rope
swing that was so damn high - high enough that it served Jimmy a healthy dose
of pause… before he’d try it. It was a gut check; Jimmy’s first attempt was done
in genuine fear.

After his brother went screaming “Geronimo” and laughing
until he splashed down, well, Jimmy wasn’t about to chicken out. No way he’d
let his idol down,
I’m doing this
, he
thought as his brother treaded water, watching and waiting below.

“Come on, you can do it!” Mark yelled. His words echoed
around the quietness of the Oregon crater.

“Shut up! I’m thinking!”

They were the only two people for miles. Jimmy stood on top
of a forty-foot cliff, balancing on the base of a tree growing out at a
thirty-five degree angle.

“Come on you chicken!” Mark shouted just as Jimmy leapt off.

It was well worth it. Jimmy remembered feeling exhilarated
from showing his brother that he could do it as much as he did from actually
jumping. As he swung through the air, his stomach stopped at his throat. It was
an awesome feeling. Without a safety net, it was as if he’d passed from boyhood
into manhood right in front of his brother’s eyes.

While Jimmy was climbing out of the water and heading for the
rope - and round two, Mark was attempting his second try. Swinging in an upward
arch, Mark let go of the rope, free-falling toward the lake until he splashed
down. He landed screaming.

“Jimmy!” Mark shouted for his younger brother. “Help!”

Those words, Jimmy would never forget. His big brother Mark
was yelling for help. He’d never heard his brother ask for help, much less from
him. Jimmy raced down the shore to where his brother was climbing out of the
water.

The blood, oh my God
there’s so much blood
, he thought, witnessing it discolor the water and his
brother’s pale skin. Red and flowing, it was seared into his database; he
thought he’d never forget.

“You’re ok…” Jimmy calmly stated while taking off his shirt.

Mark landed on something sharp, hidden under the water. The
object that sliced him from his knee down to the side of his calf always
remained a mystery. The laceration was deep enough to show white fascia tissue
in the few seconds before the blood filled and spilled. Once it started it
wasn’t going to stop, not without some help to clot it anyway. As Jimmy jumped
to his knees to dress the wound, the blood ran down his brother’s leg into the
water.

“You’re ok Mark…” Jimmy calmly stated. “You’re fine, it’s
just a cut.”

Mark looked up. “Just a cut…” he said before glancing back
down at the wound.

“It’s a good one,” Jimmy concurred, wrapping his shirt
around his brother’s leg.

“Look at that thing,” Mark said before turning his head away
from the gash-n-blood. “What the hell did I hit?”

“I don’t know but it got you good, bro.”

“Ya think…” Mark stated, realizing how well his baby brother
was performing in the situation. Maybe Jimmy didn’t notice how gallantly he was
acting under the pressure, but Mark had; baby brother was tougher and much more
capable than he gave himself credit for.

***

Like Mark, Jimmy was born to be a Marine.

Capt. Banks leaned in to speak to the pilots before turning
around to face his men. “Seven Mikes!” he shouted over the rotor wash,
communicating that they were seven minutes away from RMB Pendleton.

Lance Cpl. Woolridge looked down at the picture and in the
moment, he knew he’d finally measured up to his brother. Pride, he felt it for
a few fleeting seconds and then… he faded into guilt. He was alive and Mark -
dead.

Jimmy wanted to tell his brother about the mission. Share
his first war story. It was an impossible fantasy. In that moment he knew he
couldn’t possibly miss his brother, his idol, any more than he did.

The landscape changed from ocean blue to brown endlessness as
both Vulcan helicopters turned in towards RMB Pendleton. As they touched down
on the only home they had left, Jimmy put the picture away.

While Marines fought by him like mall walkers on black
Friday, Jimmy slowly exited the Vulcan. He let them pass until he was the last
man. Lance Cpl. Woolridge stopped and turned around, looking toward the sea
where he’d scattered his brother’s ashes.
Fuck
it…
With tears, he turned away and started walking across the grinder.

Capt. Banks noticed Jimmy lagging behind and downshifted to
wait for him. “Your brother would be proud Marine.”

Jimmy looked up at Capt. Banks and didn’t answer as they
continued walking side by side.

The officer placed his hand around the base of Jimmy’s neck
and shook him. “Real proud… But Marine, don’t ever do any of that crazy
Kamikaze shit again. Got me?”

Lance Cpl. Woolridge stopped and looked Capt. Banks directly
in his eyes. “Roger that, sir…”

“I mean it, Lance Cpl. We can’t afford to lose one Marine.”

“I was so angry… I wanted pay back, sir.”

“I know y…”

Jimmy interrupted. “I wanted to smash those metal bastards…
I…”

“I know, son,” Capt. Banks said. “I know.”

As the tears began falling from his eyes again, Jimmy let go
of his feelings. The emotional dump of battle mixed with the thoughts of his
brother. It was too much to hold in. Lance Cpl. Woolridge couldn’t fight it
off; he couldn’t hide his weakness, not even in front of his Captain.

He composed himself. “It won’t happen again, I promise,
sir.”

“You’re a hell of a Marine, son. I don’t want the amazing
job you did today to get lost. Just don’t be so goddamn reckless… But then
again, honestly son, I wish I had fifty more just like you. Go clean up and get
a hot meal, Lance Cpl., you earned it.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“If daughters couldn't soften a man,
then nothing would.”

― Linda Weaver Clarke

“I know I said… I said we could go look for your mother
but…”

“You promised we could.”

Russ glanced at a lone picture of his family he always saw
before heading out on his daily patrol. For some reason, that picture was ok to
leave out. “We need to be prepared for a trip like that Clio.”

Clio pointed through the kitchen. “It’s only a few miles
away… the RMB isn’t that far from here.”

“Yes. You’re right… It’s not far but we still need to be
prepared.”

“We’ll take your guns and…”

“Well… you need to know how to use those guns… and besides…
we need to figure out the best route… lots of things we need to account for.”

Clio turned and walked to the gun rack and placed both hands
on one. “Teach me then,” she said rubbing her palms from muzzle to stock until
they met in the middle. “Teach me.”

“You’re not afrai…”

“No, I’m not. I’m more angry than afraid,” Clio said.
“Please.”

“Ok… We’ll uh… All… all right… we’ll start training for it
in the morning. You’re going to get a crash course… This is a bad idea though.
Jesus H Bad.”

Clio didn’t answer as she turned back toward the rack of
weapons and continued to let her hands run, tracing around cold metal parts.

“Come on… Let’s get our rest, young Clio.”

“Ok,” Clio answered knowing she was already and probably
now… always going to be afraid of the dark. She followed Russ down the hall.

They walked a short distance with their footsteps echoing
off the wood floor the old man installed himself years ago. “This way,” Russ
said, walking down the hall pointing. “Bathroom’s here, a towel is under the
sink… soap is in the tub.”

Remaining silent, Clio peered in and followed Russ toward
the bedrooms.

“Room’s here; sheets are clean,” Russ said, realizing it was
where his daughter had slept countless times. But they weren’t countless, not
anymore, not since her life ended too soon.
God
I hope I can keep this one safe
, Russ thought, knowing it would be
difficult given what Clio wanted to do – where she wanted to go.
This girl wants to find her mother in a bad
way,
he thought.

The little girl was angry, anyone could see that, but the
old man saw a fire in her eyes, the likes of which he hadn’t seen in a long
time. Well… except… Russ saw it in one other person recently. Daily. Every time
he looked in the mirror.

Exhausted, they both fell fast asleep.

Sunrise:

“Up and at ‘em, Clio.”

Dreaming of her mother, Clio woke to the sound of his voice.
It was a wonderful dream that she desperately wanted to keep and hold. Like
gold dust sifting away in a breeze, the more she tried to grasp it, the more it
slipped through her fingers. She started to fall asleep again…

Lady rammed her cold nose against Clio’s neck and jolted the
girl after her eyes drifted shut. The dream was totally lost, replaced by being
awake now - alert with swimming thoughts.

“Morning,” Clio said as Russ was already walking out of the
room.

Russ spoke from the hallway. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
Clio heard the words bouncing off the walls as the old man walked toward the
kitchen. It was silent for a moment…

“Oh I forgot.”

“Ahh!” Clio jerked under the covers, startled after Russ
came back into the room without warning.

“Bell was about your size. Some of her clothes are still in
the closet there,” Russ paused, staring deeply toward the slat doors. “Go ahead
and try some of them on... see if they fit… Sorry if I startled you.”

Clio held her chest, trying to keep her heart from bursting
out. She felt it beating hard as if her entire body were a smashed thumb. “Ok.
Thanks…”

Lady barked and followed Russ down the hall for a few steps
before returning to stay with Clio.

Feeling the sand granules against her tootsies, Clio walked
barefoot across the floor. She wiped her soles against her ankles and fingered
through the hanging clothes.

It was strange going through someone else’s things but Clio
didn’t want to put her dirty clothes back on. Covered in old sweat, she could
smell them as she turned and looked at where she’d draped them over a chair
next to a child’s desk. The chair was too big to fit neatly under the desk, as
if they’d upgraded one and not the other.

This will do
, she
thought pulling a pair of jeans and shirt down.
Little loose, but it’ll work,
she thought. Seeing a few belts that
hung from a hook in the back of the closet, she grabbed one.

Lady sniffed her crotch as she sat on the bed and tried to
pull up the borrowed britches. “No Lady!” she said pushing the dog’s head away.

As if she wanted the girl to hurry, Lady barked and sat down
looking at Clio with curious eyes.

“I’m hurrying,” Clio said, leaning toward the nightstand.
She opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of socks.

Lady followed her out of the room after she grabbed her
shoes and headed down the hall with the belt flapping from her hand like a dead
snake.

“You hungry?” Russ asked standing over the stove.

Most homes had backup generators that ran off of antimatter
or solar power cells. The old man always thought it was a good idea to have the
best power source he could afford.

“Who’s Bell?” Clio asked, fishing the belt through the loops
before putting her socks and shoes on.

Russ was cracking eggs with one hand and plopped them down
into a mixing bowl. He stopped. “My daughter… She’s dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Clio answered, wanting to take her question
back.

“Funny… Sue and I thought we couldn’t have kids. Too old…
Always dreamed about having some but gave up on it after a while. Then one day…
there she was.”

Clio knew the conversation was already started, like an out
of control blaze, so she went with it. “How old was she?”

“’Bout a year older than you… thirteen and a half,” he said
cracking another egg.

“I’m sorry,” Clio whispered, feeling stupid and not knowing
what else to say.

Russ went to whisking the eggs with determination.
“…Alright. It’s ok… Not your fault.”

“I know it’s just that… I don’t know… everyone’s lost
someone I think. Doesn’t seem fair… this goddamn war.”

“Easy. Watch your language, young lady.” He knew it was
petty to scold her but couldn’t help acting like a dad. For all he knew, she
might be the only twelve-year-old left on the planet and he couldn’t help being
a father figure.

Clio wasn’t bothered by his comment. “I just hate those damn
monsters. Those godda… those Ker too...”

Russ turned and glanced over the top of Clio’s head and then
scanned down at her. “I hate ‘em too, sweetie,” he said, as he finished
whisking the eggs. “Scrambled ok?”

“Yes please… That’s how my mom always makes them.” Lady
barked several times.

“You’re getting some too, relax,” Russ promised, eyeing his
dog.

The old man walked over to the table where Clio sat and
served her. “Eat up; we have a long day ahead of us.”