“Where the hell is the captain?” Another voice screamed over the roar of gunfire. “Where are our superiors?”
“Fucking dead…” There were more words spoken after that, but Sortja had heard enough.

Kevin P. Sortja ducked further into the fox hole as the rate of gunfire slowed slowly. Having fired off his last clip Sortja felt himself to be in the way. There was nothing more he could do without any ammunition except wait for the next truck to deliver support. Kevin slowly crept his way through the deep trench, dodging his fellow soldiers as he moved towards the shelter of hollowed out earth. Pushing himself into the small hideout, Kevin pressed himself up against a slab of metal, which was used to support the dirt walls.

“Kevin Phillip… about time somebody joined me. I’ll be fucking damned if I go out there without any ammo.” A nervous voice, which Sortja recognized as fellow new recruit Private Ryan Waltz, also known as Maggot Four, as named by Sergeant Kurtz, their former drill sergeant. But the sergeant was dead now, and so the boot camp names were no longer used.

Sortja nodded to his fellow soldier as he removed the blood stained helmet from his head. “Have any family, Waltz?”

“What? People are dying out there and you want to talk about my fucking family? Keep your head in the game, Sortja. The moment that truck arrives, I’m jumping back into the fray. I’ll fucking kill a…”

“Two brothers and one sister- all younger than me. They’re probably looking down upon me, waiting for me to join them.” Sortja interrupted Ryan, a slight smile crossing his lips as he spoke.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind, man.” Waltz went to stand up but was stopped by Sortja’s continuous rant.

“My mother didn’t want me to go. She feared I’d suffer the same fait as my father.” Kevin’s voice was soft and calm, which was a surprise considering the situation.

Something brought Waltz to retake his seat, his eyes fixated on Sortja. “He fought in the war?” Sortja nodded slowly. “Mine too, man. What a fucking waste too; look where we are now.” Waltz nodded towards the shelters entrance.

“Fuck me…” Waltz shook his head in shame. “Y’know, we’re cowards for hiding in here. When we’re found walking around out there all brainless and shit, they’ll know we were the cowards that hid when we couldn’t fight.”

“No matter how many people are on the battlefield with you, you’ll always die alone.” Sortja looked straight into Waltz eyes. “I refuse to die alone.”

“Yeah,” Waltz sighed, “me neither.”

Outside of their small shelter, Waltz and Sortja could hear the continuous gunfire mixed with the occasional explosion and horrific scream of another victim.

“This war is suck bullshit, y’know. Fucking god damn nukes did this shit!” Waltz pounded his fist into the ground, kicking up a small cloud of dust. “God damn Koreans had to go and show off the power they had!”

“We fired the first nuke, remember?” Sortja tilted his head slightly. “Don’t damn god.”

“Why not? He can’t be all holy and good if he let this shit happen. If he has the most influence about what happens, and if he is as great as everyone says, then let him stop this bullshit.”

Sortja shrugged and looked over to the shelters entrance, which was being blocked by the mauled body of an American soldier. The soldier’s head was tilted towards Sortja, it’s one remaining eye staring terrified at the unarmed soldier.

“The countdown begins…” Sortja frowned.

“Till what?”

“Until we’re next.”

Waltz nodded slightly and looked down to the ground, his fingers tracing a design in the dirt. “Fuck me…”

“I never told my family goodbye.” Sortja’s frown grew. “I didn’t think I’d have to… I mean, who did? Our enemies… they’re slow and unarmed…”

“Yeah… but those fuckers are strong. It took me a clip to take down just one.” Waltz laughed slightly. “I didn’t leave anyone behind. That last nuke, the one fired after the war was over and after we were in boot, killed everyone I had. They were fucking celebrating the end of the war… and it just dropped right on them. The entire town was demolished… the outlying city was eradicated.”

“I’m sorry, man.” Sortja spoke quietly.

“Fuck that noise. What’s to be sorry about? I’ll be with them soon enough.” Waltz refuted.

Sortja stood up from his spot, turning himself away from the dead soldier that lay outside the entrance. “I don’t think that truck is coming.”

“I’m not surprised. It’d be a fucking miracle if anything showed up. Fuck, I’d be happy with a damn Mr. Softy truck.” Another laugh escaped Waltz as he thought about the scenario. “Can you image that shit?”

Waltz stood up, his face brightening suddenly. “’Scuse me Mr. Softy!” Waltz shook his hand in a frantic wave towards a non-existent ice cream truck. “I’ll take a… the whole fucking truck.”

Sortja smiled at Waltz’ attempt at humor. “A nice thick shake…”

Waltz turned to Sortja, his eyebrows quirked. “That’s it man? We’re about to die and all you want is a thick shake?”

“Can’t be too greedy now. What would the lord think?” Sortja shot back.

“The lord? I think he’d think you’re a pussy.”

“Our lord does not think badly about his creations.” Sortja’s voice softened.

“Of course not. He just fucking kills them.”

“You still blame God for all of this?”

“Who the fuck would you blame?”

Shaking his head, Sortja took a seat back on the cold ground. “Man broke through God’s grasp. He could not control man-kind anymore, and so he left us to do our own thing.”

“I’m sorry man, but I don’t believe tha…”

“… and now he’s getting his revenge.” Sortja interrupted, tossing a small pebble across the shelter at the opposing wall.

“God damn man. You are too funny.” Waltz laughed heartily. “Everyone knows it was the radiation man. God has nothing to do with this shit.”

“But you ju…”

“Its sarcasm, Sortja. I don’t blame God, cuz I don’t think he’s there.”

Sortja’s eyes started to water up slightly as he ducked his head to look at the ground. “Lets… change the subject.”

“I never got any fucking pussy before this shit. I was promised to get laid.” Sounding angry, Waltz still held a smile.

“Now who would ha…”

Kevin’s voice broke off as he lifted his head, his eyes turning towards the entrance.

“Hey, you alright?” Ryan asked, following Sortja’s line of sight. “Ah… fuck.”

Standing in the door way was the mauled body of the eyeless soldier, whom neither of the two unarmed soldiers recognized. A large trail of drying blood started at the base of what used to be his neck and ending towards his stomach, where a mass of organs did their best to not pour out onto the floor through the open gap in the man’s stomach.

The remaining eye flickered between the two terrified soldiers; and as it came to stop upon the presence of Private Sortja, the bloodied soldier groaned, blood dripping out of his mouth.

“What the fuck do we do?” Waltz asked Sortja, his gaze never leaving the zombie that stood in front of him.

“You have your knife?”

Waltz bent slightly to draw his survival knife from the holster by his boots. “Yes, and still clean.”

“Use it…” Sortja turned his head to Waltz.

“What should I aim for?” Waltz quickly snapped his head towards Sortja for his response.

Kevin lifted his hand and pointed to his neck, his finger dragging slowly across his pale skin.

“Fuck you! Like that thing’s gonna give me enough time to slit its throat.”

“Not him, Ryan, forget him.”

“You want me to kill you?” Waltz quickly turned back to the zombie, who just now started to clumsily make its way towards Sortja.

“Do it man! I don’t want to become one of them.” Sortja took a step back from his slow attacker. “Please.”

Waltz stared down at his knife for a second before tossing it to Sortja. “I can’t do it.”

Kevin nodded, grasping the knife’s handle tight. “It’s been a pleasure…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From outside, even over the gunfire, a blood curdling scream echoed out from the shelter. The scream was cut off suddenly when a large spray of blood splattered along the dirt floor of the trench, mixing with the slowly rising river of blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The firing of guns started to die down as more and more soldiers ran out of ammunition, and replacing the explosion of bullets were terrified screams of soldiers whom faced the same fate that many others would soon face.