Rolly and the Popsicle

  Crawling up into position, he looked down. It looked like the earth was moving. Lifting his M249 up, he looked through the pvs-4 and saw it was bugs. The ground was covered in them. Reaching out, he touched one with his glove. It rolled up into a ball. Roly Poly’s. What the hell? I’ve got to lay in this shit all night?

  Shaking his head, he continued crawling and got into position overlooking the road. He was in the center of the ambush. The Company Commander had his humvee parked behind a berm somewhere behind him. The rest of the two squads were spread out in buddy teams to his left and right. He was the odd man out. Left by himself. He looked up at the tree spreading out over his head. I hope there aren’t any freaking snakes. He thought while watching for movement.

  Two hours of laying there. Occasionally looking through his sight and confirming his field of fire, he tried to keep his movement to a minimum. Less than a month out of basic training and I’m laying here with 1000 rounds sweating my ass off all night.

  What was that? Something is behind me. He heard a snort. Shit, it’s a warthog. Damn thing is going to tear me to pieces. Fuck, I can’t shoot that way. Not knowing what to do, he pulled his bayonet out, rolled onto his side, bent his legs, and dug his feet in ready to spring up and fight for his life. With all this gear and water, I have to weigh 250 lbs. The flak vest will protect me… hopefully. Just smother the little son of a bitch and start poking.

  The sounds continued getting closer. What the hell is that? Seeing movement now, he got ready to spring. It’s a fucking monkey. The monkey froze when it saw him. It let out a surprised chirping squeak and sprang up into the neighboring tree and chirped some more. Get out of here asshole.

  Little chance of that. The soldier was probably lying in its favorite dinner spot. The monkey shook the branches and chirped more aggressively. Plunk. It’s throwing something at me. That better not be shit or I’m going to skin you and make you into a pillow.

  *****

  Patrolling behind the checkpoint with his team. Movement ahead. He froze and lifted the m249 to his shoulder so he could see. Nothing. Wait. What’s that? Two eyes flashed at him as the large cat turned towards him before scampering off. A freaking leopard. Not on my top 10 things I expected to see tonight.

  A few steps later, he fell. Landing hard, he went sprawling forward and tried not to land on his weapon as he rolled to the side. He heard someone fall next to him. “Watch out. It’s …” too late. The other two fell.

  “What the hell is that?” he turned to see the team leader pointing. Turning his head, he saw a mound. Moving closer to the meter high pile … It’s bones. That’s nearly the size of a running track. That’s weird. Have to come back here in the morning.

  *****

  There was something great about seeing the sun come up and knowing your guard shift was over. Of course, now he had to go patrol the village for 4 hours before he could get some sleep. At least, I won’t be sitting on my ass bored.

  Pushing off the sand bags, he walked over to the makeshift ladder that was set up to climb up and down off the building. Looking down he saw the bright green body of a snake stretching across the opening to the courtyard. Green mamba. Screw that. He tapped the other private and pointed before jumping down to the courtyard wall and then down to the ground and ran away as quickly as he could.

  *****.

  Never thought I’d be sitting in Somalia playing chess… And sweating my ass off. Something small and green fell on the board and started squirming. Quickly flipping the board, he and his opponent jumped up. His opponent grabbed a stick and pinned the small snake to the ground then cut its head off with a knife.

  Using an e-tool he carefully scooped up the head and body and carried it away to the edge of the compound.

  *****

  He was the “medic”, which meant he carried a 25lb piece of tupperware around on his rucksack and followed the mission’s platoon sergeant around. He counted the last man and got to his feet and started walking.

  Later he looked up and saw no one in front of him. Oh shit. Was I sleepwalking? Quickly looking around he saw the patrol behind him. Thinking quickly, he called a halt and walked back through the formation and took a knee next to the platoon sergeant.

  The acting platoon leader got up and moved to the point man. Moment’s later the platoon leader came back. The lead squad got up and started moving.

  “What’s going on?” the platoon sergeant asked.

  “I don’t know. Someone called a halt. This mission has been a total cluster fuck.”

  The medic didn’t say a word.

  *****

  Climbing the mountain in the rain, he shivered as he watched his breath steam out. It had been almost two days since they had gotten any sleep. That was good. It meant the Ranger Instructors would give them a mandatory hour of sleep in the morning. However, they still needed to make it over this freaking hill.

  A man came sliding down the mountain next to him. “What’s going on?”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Ran into a cliff and got to go around.”

  An hour later, it was still raining. He was still shivering. Someone came sliding down the mountain.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Ran into a cliff and got to go around.”

  Didn’t we just do this? He shrugged and followed the patrol down and around.

  *****

  Walking up the hill, he lifted his compass and picked out a tree. He then carefully picked his way around the patch of black palm. He crested the hill and froze. Standing in a small clearing looking directly at him was a jaguar. Now would be a good time to have something more than a stick.

  He pulled out the k-bar on his belt and backed back down the hill, avoiding the black palm. At the bottom he worked his way down and over to the next hill. When he got to the top, he once again froze when he saw the jaguar crouching there watching him.

  When he backed his way down again he decided to skip that point and head to the next one.

  *****

  Pens. Good. Water resistant notepads. Goods. Four packs of markers. Need 10. He heard a knock on the door. Turning he saw Bo who said, “Come on. They want us to go into the gap again.”

  He smiled and followed Bo down the hall. Shouldn't have bothered buying that golf pass.

  “What’s the mission?” he asked Bo.

  Bo shrugged, “Same as always.”

  *****

  Bo tapped him on the shoulder. He reached out and grabbed the rope and began sliding down. His weapon caught on the skid. Taking one hand off the rope, he pulled up on his M24, unhooking it from the skid it was caught on and started falling… fast. Reaching back for the rope, he was able to get his second hand on it and almost brought his feet together underneath him when he hit the ground and rolled.

  Bo came sliding down and ran over to him as the bird flew away. “Forgot it was a huey?”

  “Just give me a second.” He said. Something was burning in the side of his abdomen. He took off his gloves and felt around his abdomen. No bleeding. Must just be a muscle tear. He slowly rolled over. Holy shit that hurts.

  Carefully he stood up. His side was burning. He took a couple steps in agony. Shaking his head he said, “No bueno.” Bo nodded and set up the satcom. A few minutes later, he cursed.

  “They won’t come back. We’ve got to make it to the extraction.”

  Looking at the map, he grimaced. 20 kilometers of shit terrain. This is going to suck.

  *****

  “Popping green smoke.” Bo said and threw out the canister. The huey came in. That thing sounds like shit. Last time I let the alphabet boys coordinate my ride. He winced as Bo helped him up.

  As he hobbled to the helicopter, he emptied his rifle then removed the bolt. When he got to the helicopter, he sat down with his feet hanging out. Bo hopped in smiling and they took off.

  A few minutes later as they flew over the jungle, there was an explosion. Something broke on the helicopter and it began to spin. He reached behind him and grabbed onto a strap.

  ****

  He opened his eyes and pulled the covers down. Looking around he wondered where the heck he was. Seeing the microfridge and the cheap furniture, he thought, Why am I in a hotel? He walked to the window and looked down on the street below. The cars looked strange. The clothes people were wearing looked strange. What country is this? He jerked back as something flew by just a few feet from his window. He watched as it hovered and lowered into a parking space.

  He heard a knock at the door. When he opened it he saw an asian man in a lab coat. The man introduced himself, “Mr. Smith. I am Doctor Lee. I assume you have a lot of questions. May I come in?”

  Jack Smith nodded and walked to the small table and sat down on one side and motioned for the Doctor to sit in the other. “Mr Smith, a little over 50 years ago you were involved in a helicopter crash. Your body was recovered and you were still alive. However, you were terminally injured. At the moment of passing, you were cryogenically frozen.”

  He paused to gauge Jack’s response. Jack’s response was to stare at him and wait for him to continue. “During those 50 years, technology has advanced and we are nearing the point where we believe we are getting close to being able to receive and transplant cryogenically frozen brains into new bodies.”

  Another pause and another lack of response. “We have revived your brain and you are currently in a virtual reality simulation.” Jack raised an eyebrow. “Like a video game world. This is not real. It just looks, feels, smells, and even tastes real to your brain.” Jack picked up a pen and clicked it twice and looked at the doctor waiting for him to continue.

  “We are still a few years away from being able to finish the procedure, but we thought it was wise to begin waking a few candidates and create a training program to help them adapt to the modern world. Would you like to participate in this program, Mr Smith.” The doctor set his clipboard down and rotated it for Mr. Smith.

  Jack looked at the authorization form and shrugged. He picked up the pen and signed.

  “Excellent. You have some time before the training begins and this time will feel quite extensive for you because of the time dilation. We do, however, have a virtual reality multi-player role playing game that has donated access to a server if you would like to pass the time in that world. I warn you, it is a violent game of magic and combat. The pain and suffering will feel quite real.”

  Jack shrugged. 50 years. Wonder what Diablo they are on? 6? Jack nodded.

  “Excellent. When you are ready to log in, just think “interface” and select to log into “Feral Predator.” Jack did as told and an interface popped up in front of him. He saw the log in for Feral Predator.

  “If you have any questions, I am in your contacts.” Jack saw movement behind the interface and it faded when his eyes shifted.

  “Hey, Doc.” Jack said.

  “Yes, Mr Smith?”

  “Did anybody else survive the crash?”

  “We don’t know. The paper records were partially destroyed and we are not certain of all identities.” Jack nodded and the doctor left.

  *****

  Jack looked down at his body. He had chosen to remain human. He was wearing boots, brown cargo pants, T-shirt, and loose fitting long sleeved buttoned-down shirt. He was in a small room with plain white walls. He walked through the door into a large open area.

  There were hundreds of “people” present. Nearly all looked like some kind of cross between humans and an animal. There were rabbit people, cat people, goat people, pig people, cattle people, but the most common by far making up nearly a quarter of those present were what Jack classified as werewolves.

  A small “person” with what looked like natural plated armor wrapping around his body pointed to a sign. It said, “Class selection”. Jack nodded his thanks to the little guy and went in to select his class.

  He saw crystals placed on pedestals around the room, some of which had people standing with their hands on them. Jack went over to one and placed his hand on it. He was given the choice of caster, support, tank, or damage. He chose damage and was shown a long list of classes like martial artist, spearman, axman, swordsman, etc. At the end, he saw an option for archer and almost selected it before he noticed he could scroll down more.

  The final option was rifleman. What kind of idiot would choose to be an archer if being a rifleman was an option? He chose to be a rifleman and exited the room. The little armadillo looking dude pointed at a sign that said, “Equipment.” Jack once again nodded his thanks. I wonder if the little guy works here as a guide or something?

  In the equipment room he selected from a variety of weapons that varied in range, damage, and rate of fire. He chose to go with one that offered middle of the road performance in each. It was by far the best overall value, but he did pay extra to make all three aspects upgradeable.

  He also picked up a set of 5 knives and a utility belt. With his remaining credits he picked up food, rope, utility cord, and healing potions. When he confirmed his purchase, he freaked out for a second when the screen went blank. However, it quickly came back up and said all the items had been deposited in his storage.

  He thought, “storage” and a grid appeared in front of him with all his items. He focused on the knives and two appeared in his hands. I wonder how I store these. A page popped up in front of him explaining how to do it.

  This time the little guy pointed at the skills sign and Jack went in. He selected a long range damage increase that he thought of as snipe, another that he hoped worked like a shotgun blast, and a healing spell.

  Once he was back in the large room, the little guy waved him over. Jack walked over to him and the guy pointed at the clock counting down overhead. It was at less than five minutes. The little guy pointed at Jack and then at himself.

  Jack was about to ask what the little guy meant when he received an invitation to team up with Rolly. Jack shrugged and accepted. Rolly gave him a thumbs up.