The barren landscape rippled off to the north. At least, he was pretty sure it was north, because the sun was going down more or less to his left, in the same direction the truck was facing.
They had ridden in the back of that beast all day over a variety of packed, rutted, sandy and sometimes rocky, but always dirt roads. The back of the truck was only partially enclosed, and he was covered with as much dust and grime as the others. Given their issued gray-green coveralls, they would have been well camouflaged if they had gone out into the open.
But they were huddled between the truck and wall of the building where the HTS officer had gone to arrange their accommodations for the night. The only other member of their entourage was the driver/guard, standing to the rear of the truck, watching something they had passed as they came into the village.
Suddenly the guard collapsed and began bleeding profusely as the sounds of gunfire came from the nearest ridge, on the other side of the truck. His companions dropped instinctively where they were, but he carefully chose to shield himself behind the dual wheels on the rear axle of the truck, and peered out underneath the curvature of the filthy tires.
His companions were swearing, but he began to crawl toward the guard’s body. He kept himself down in the rut created by the passing of many vehicles in the same track. His head was down on one side, dragging the loose sand in the bottom of the rut, his face toward the probing attack. His arms out almost directly overhead, he would plant his palms and pull himself forward, his left leg cocked and pushing with the edge of his shoe, while his right leg was dragged along.
It seemed forever, but he knew it was only seconds. Reaching the guard’s body, he pushed it up out of the rut, then reached past to retrieve the rifle. Making sure it was charged, he raised a very low profile to aim over the dead body.
Shots were still ringing out, and debris flying, as few weapons in the village behind him answered with more than random and frantic automatic fire. It was typical of the low paid allied guards to fire blindly over walls, holding their lightweight assault rifles at the ends of their arms. Unlike them, he took careful aim — pop-pop — and someone who had ventured to charge across the open space between the village and ridge-line actually screamed when he fell. He sighted on another, but the target dropped out of sight. Another popped up and dirt puffed up in front of him. Unflinching, he fired back, dropping that one.
Much bigger puffs in rapid thupping sounds popped up just off to his right and worked toward him in short bursts. He turned some ten degrees to the right, taking time to aim more carefully at someone quite farther away, and fired once. The short bursts stopped.
Then there was some strange rolling, high-pitched call echoing from behind the ridge. A few other voices joined in a similar sound, and the firing from the ridge stopped. He pushed the rifle aside like it was poison, dropped his face in the dirt and clasped his hand behind his head.
His companions were considering whether it was safe to recover their feet, when the HTS office came out of the building. He checked each man, then noticed the one out by the guard. “You alright, Krumm?”
The man dropped his right hand, turned to face the HTS and barked back in a clear and commanding voice, “Unharmed, sir!”
After scanning the horizon, he slowly rose up, grabbed the rifle in his right hand, carrying it backwards and grappling with the guard’s body. Finally grabbing a wad of cloth in the center of the back, he was able to drag the somewhat smaller body back to the truck. He passed over the rifle butt first to the HTS, as if he had no idea how it was properly handled.
The HTS busied himself dealing with some locals regarding the body. Krumm sat down against the wall, very clearly saddened and distressed. One of his companions started, “Man that was…”
“Stop!” Krumm demanded. His steely cold gaze pierced the other. After a pause, he pointed at the knot of men chattering as they began wrapping the guard’s body in a shroud, while the HTS talked intensely with a pair of obviously important figures who had come from inside the building. “That man was a hero. He died defending us. I simply went out the check and see if he was still alive after he drove the attackers off.”
The intensity of his words cut the dusty air. He rose quickly to his feet. Then his face softened. He motioned the others close. “Guys, please. I can’t make you do anything, but don’t tell anybody. Tell the story I gave you, because I can’t afford to deal with what would surely follow.”
They looked at each other shrugging, and seemed to agree with is request, but were clearly baffled.
He relaxed a bit more and sighed. “Thanks.”
