Soldiers in the Mud at the End of the World

“Look Marcel, I don’t know if I can, it’s just-.” Ruben looked down at his boots, sunken into the cold wet mud. He sighed, fingers fidgeting nervously on the handle of his rifle. He looked up at Marcel, teary eyed. Water dripped on him from the netting above.

“Your afraid,” Marcel said, almost a whisper. He rested his damp callus hand on Ruben’s shoulder. “We’re all afraid, soldier.”

The word ‘soldier’ seemed to remind Ruben of his place, who he was, why he was. He straightened his back and rubbed the tears from his eyes with his dirty hand, a hand that hadn’t seen soap for weeks, and may never see soap and clean water again.

An explosion rung out in the distance jarring Ruben from his thoughts, extinguishing any false bravado he had mustered. His shoulders hunched. His eyes wide with fear.

Marcel took a tattered packet of Three Castles cigarettes from his breast pocket and fed one between his lips. He took a Zippo lighter from his pocket and after a few attempts, no thanks to the rain, lit the cigarette and took a long pull. He closed his eyes and dreamed of home while smoke filled his lungs and warmed is heart. He handed it to Ruben. The younger soldiers hand shook as he put down a green metal box in the mud and took the cigarette and raised it to his lips.

In the distance, the rumbling noise of war machines floated over the air, mixing with the smell of cordite, propellant and dead bodies. War attacked all the senses, invaded the body like an army of insurgents.

Marcel picked up the green box and studied its hard curved edges with its dents and scratches. He ran his hand over the matte green paint, wiping off dried dirt and grime.

Another explosion, closer now, made Ruben jump. He could never get used to that noise and vibration in the ground below him, verberating through his chest.

“Burger Shack,” Marcel mumbled.

“What’s that?” said Ruben, taking another deep drag of his cigarette and shaking with the cold.

“Burger joint on Mission Ave, downtown Oceanside,” said Marcel. “My pops used to take me and my brother there.” He looked upward as if the distant memory was in the camouflaged netting above their heads. “They had the biggest milkshakes you ever seen.” He smiled as nostalgia gently stroked his mind. “My pops will be eighty-five next month.”

Ruben flicked his cigarette butt down into the trench and said, “You think we will ever see home again?”

“Sure, we will fella, sure we will,” lied Marcel, the words trailing off, giving away his deception.

Their whole regiment was gone or close to it, Mulligan lay a few feet away in the mud, juiced up on heroin, slowly dying from a head wound. Ruben and Marcel had made him as comfortable as possible. He lay hopefully dreaming of Boston in winter, and not the nightmares of war.

Marcel turned and peaked up over the trench out at the smoldering no man’s land. Craters, crumbling buildings and wire fences dotted the landscape, bodies of men lay motionless on the ground like ragdolls. He adjusted his eye against the scope of his rifle. Through the rain he spotted the movement of something metallic just above the surface of the scorched ground. But as fast as it appeared, it was gone again.

“You got a girl back home?” asked Marcel, turning back to Ruben.

The question cracked a small subtle smile on Ruben’s face.

Marcel wagged a finger at Ruben and smiled. “Oh yeah, you got a girl.”

Ruben shyly looked away, trying to hide his grin. “Maggy, her name is Maggy,” he said. “High school sweetheart. Her smile boy, its..its magical. Lights up a room, man. I know people say that, it’s so cliché, but it really did. People couldn’t help smiling when they were around her, you know. ”

Marcel nodded. “Those are the keepers, brother.”

Another bomb landed, this one rained down mud and rocks on their location. Their ears rung making them feel dizzy. The bombs were getting closer and closer now. The next one would be on top of them. Mulligan had stopped breathing, finally escaping this nightmare.

Marcel clutched the metal box in his hands and looked at Ruben, his eyes fixed intently on him.

“We have to get this box home, or all this is all for nothing. It’s now or never, brother,” said Marcel.

“Time to go home and see Maggie,” said Marcel.

Ruben looked at Marcel, “And you to see your old man.”

They both nodded at each other, a nod driven by the memory of home and loved ones.

Ruben took the metal box from Marcel.

“You sure?” asked Marcel.

Ruben looked at Marcel. “Yup”

“Hoorah.”

“Hoorah.”

The two soldiers walked a few yards to a small rickety ladder leaning against the wooden slatted walls of the trench. They peered over the lip of the trench.

“You know where we’re going right?” asked Marcel firmly.

“Yes, 200 yards southwest,” replied Ruben.

“Good, let’s go brother.”

Ruben clambered over the edge first, then Marcel followed. They began running in a zig zag pattern, varying the distance of each line they ran, slipping in the mud with each turn. The rain had gotten heavier, pelting their faces as they ran. Their hearts pounded inside their chests. Their legs churned along like pistons.

Then they saw it. In the distance, a large metal shaped figure with emerald glowing eyes, rose up and began firing at them. Laser beams became whizzing by them as they darted left and right sliding in the mud.

Marcel raised his rifle and fired shot after shot at the robot.

Suddenly, he became aware of another and then another, rising like monsters from the grave. He took aim and kept firing. Only a few of his shots hit the target. but it was enough to empowered Ruben to keep running.

They zig zagged until they were a few yards from the small white stone, almost imperceptible in the mud, but they knew where it was. Just as they had almost reached the stone, the intense heat of a laser beam seared through Ruben’s shoulder sending him reeling in pain as he skidded to the ground. He then groaned in pain as Marcel landed on top of him and rolled them both into a small crater. They lay flat as laser beams passed over their heads.

“You still with me, soldier?” shouted Marcel.

“Hoorah,” gasped Ruben.

Marcel looked around the crater.

“We made it, brother,” he said. “Look!!” He pointed at the white stone.

Ruben grimaced and looked over at the marker.

“You're going to have to do it. I can’t move,” said Ruben through gritted teeth.

Just then they heard the robots getting closer. Clunk clunk clunk came the sound of their metal feet crushing the earth.

Marcel grabbed the green metal box and crawled to the white stone. He pulled and pushed it until it moved from the mud revealing a small cavity underneath.

“Hurry!” yelled Ruben as he picked up the rifle with his good arm.

Marcel struggled to get the latch opened on the metal box. His fingers fumbled as he tried to open it. He looked towards Ruben, panic in his face. Laser beams came more often now the closer the enemy got.

Finally, the latch popped open to reveal a long cylinder the size of a flashlight. A copper pipe as thick as a finger wound itself around the cylinder. He removed it from the foam pocket and tried to shove it into the cavity under the stone. His hand shook causing him to keep getting it jammed on the edges of the cavity. The robots got closer, he wouldn’t have enough time.

With one final attempt, he took a breath and tried to steady his hand. As he aligned it for the forth time, the cylinder was sucked into the cavity with a whooshing sound. He fell back and scrambled towards Ruben.

Suddenly, the robots were there on the edge of the crater. Ruben fire two shots, clipping one of robots in the head, sending him staggering backwards.

Then came a loud boom. The two soldiers looked in shock as the cylinder shot straight up into the air. The robots stood still and looked up. They studied the projectile as it went higher and higher into the sky.

They then looked back at the two soldiers laying helplessly in the mud. They paused for a moment, before one of them tilted their head and then they all raised their blasters towards the men.

Ruben and Marcel defiantly looked at the metal monsters. It was their time now to join Mulligan and escape this nightmare. Peace washed over them as they closed their eyes knowing they had carried out their mission.

But the shots never came. The projectile had reached its destination high up in the atmosphere seconds before and had active an electrical pulse dome over the earth frying the robot's main server. Deeming them lifeless.

Ruben and Marcel opened their eyes to three lifeless robots, the glow of their eyes gone and replaced with dead black cavities. They helped each other out of the crater and sat on a small mound of dirty. As the rain stopped and the some of the smoke cleared, they smiled.

​In the distance, they could see the outline of what remained of The White House.