Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

Relieved

Grafenwöhr
US Army Training Area
Training Site 22
2/19th Company Area
West Germany
30 October, 1987
0530 Hours

The two canvas doorways closed over each other, blocking out the light, blocking out my view of Bomber and Henley. Closing me out.

The snow drifted down in the still air, floating softly down to rest on the snow already on the ground with a slight whisper. The sound made goosebumps rise on my skin, despite the fact it was a natural sound.

For too long that sound had been a harbinger of death, of bloodshed.

Of children dying.

I sat on the bumper of Henley's CUC-V, put my face in my hands, and wept.

Now Johnny was gone, just like Ant. He had walked away from me, walked away from what we once were, and joined Henley in figuring out a way to help Stillwater kill everything living on that blood soaked mountaintop.

If it wasn't for Jerry, I'd have nothing left. Nothing in my life beyond memories of bloodshed and death, or screaming in the dark and cold. Nothing to show for it but scars and nightmares.

I couldn't do it any more.

No more.

God, last winter. Oakes, Kebble, and all the rest. Children. Some of the ones we killed weren't even twenty years old. Some of them not even through the first year of their enlistment. And we'd slaughtered them. Shot them. Stabbed them. Bayoneted them. Thrown grenades in their faces and shot the still screaming bodies.

It hadn't been till Stillwater had come up missing that I'd stared at it, looked at it, seen it for what it was.

Slaughter.

I'd laid there, that night, staring at my ceiling, reliving those shattered moments of time that masqueraded as memories, and realized just how far we had all fallen. What Alfenwehr had finished creating from the mold Special Weapons had poured.

I'd gotten up, gotten the keys to Stillwater's car, and driven to Fulda, going to a club. Not the Green Goose, not where Bomber, Stillwater and I had spent so many nights drinking. To a different club. The one where I'd meet Jerry.

I'd stopped at a roadside Kasern and phoned him.

He was waiting for me when I got there.

Later, when he was asleep, and I was lying in the warm darkness next to him, feeling his cum ooze out of my well fucked pussy and down the crack of my ass, was when I'd come to the realization.

I couldn't marry Ant. I couldn't bear him children.

I'd seen his family. Seen what they did to boys, how they forged them into weapons starting before they could even walk. Family legends, family tales, lullabies designed to instill bravery and to strip away the fear of the death.

And girls... They twisted girls, changed them, made them into weapons in and of themselves.

If I married him, I'd become his girl sooner or later. No, not a simple girl, but a girl by his family's yardstick. A kelly, with absolute power over him, over my children, over other women's boy children.

And any children we had would be forged into weapons. Into more soldiers.

Feeling Jerry's cum slicken up the crack of my ass, I saw the futility, there, in the warm darkness, laying next to him under the heavy blankets.

The Stillwater family created weapons. If I married Stillwater, married into that family, my children and Stillwater would never become anything but weapons. All their potential wiped away, everything they might have done, everything they might have accomplished in the world. All of it disappearing as first the family, then the military, twisted and warped them into weapons.