Ever Onward Read Free Page A

gone !”
    “Get a grip , soldier and report !” Jocco was warming to his role. He’d always thought
he’d have made a great actor. Sort of a cross between a young Tom
Cruise and that handsome little prick, what’s-his-name. After all,
wasn’t that what life was anyway? Just one big meaningless
farce?
    “Er, yes sir!”, the voice
answered. “Lieutenant Pinkton here, sir! Walter J. From the
Personnel Department. We’ve never really met, sir
but...”
    “Pinkton!”, Jocco said coldly. “Get to
the fucking point !”
    “Yes , sir! I will , sir!
But they’ll be here soon , so shouldn’t we... I mean, don’t
you...”
    Jocco’s mind continued to whirl.
“Pinkton, WHO will be here soon?”
    “Why, the boys from Miramar, sir. I
phoned Fort Irwin first, and then the Marine Corps at Twenty-Nine
Palms, but neither one of them answered. Only the Naval Station at
San Diego responded.” His voice had been climbing higher and higher
and Jocco could tell he was on the edge of panic. “After I saw...
saw...”
    “WHEN , Pinkton? WHEN will they get here?”
    “What? Oh, any time now , sir.
They seemed to be having some trouble of their own, but they promised they’d come! They promised! ”
    Jocco felt the germ of an idea begin
to blossom in his brain. He’d felt its tantalizing tickle before,
but always had to push it aside as cold reality rushed in. Now,
perhaps, it was the time to allow such thoughts their freedom.
Throwing caution to the wind, Jocco decided to give it a
shot.
    “Meet me in fifteen minutes at the
Officer’s Mess. We’ll wait for them together.”
    Pinkton sounded like a Sunday sinner
granted redemption. “Oh, yes , sir; thank you, sir! Thank you!”
    Jocco replaced the phone in
its cradle, a cruel, crafty smile lighting up his handsome
face.
    Private Theodore Smith, called Smitty
by a few and Pussbag by many, rocked back and forth in the
corner of his barracks. His ferret-like eyes wild with maniacal
fear, a dripping bayonet clutched in his bloody hand.
    Close by was the body of a young
soldier. Not one of those papery bee-hive things, but a
honest-to-God flesh and bone body! Like the precious few other
people left alive that morning, the young private had somehow been
passed over by the late, great Estelle Dority’s infamous creation.
A survivor who had survived only long enough to be killed by yet
another survivor! Aint life a bitch? The irony of the
situation however, was clearly lost on Pussbag. In point of fact,
Pussbag himself had been lost for most of his miserable, psychotic
life.
    The child-soldier had come upon
Pussbag trembling in a corner and offered him his hand. Thinking
himself attacked by his many sins come to life, Pussbag Smitty had
stabbed the hapless survivor till his arms tired.
    Now, sitting in a puddle of his own
urine, Pussbag cocked his head to one side. What was that? A motor?
Yes? YES ! Crawling on all fours to the nearest window, he
timidly poked his head up just high enough to see out.
    Pussbag couldn’t believe his eyes. A
jeep! A Jesus to Christ jeep ! Tooling along over the tarmac
as nice as you please! There was just one guy in it and --- would
ya look at that ?! The fucker was smoking a cigarette and smiling !
    Pussbag watched the dark stranger with
ferret-like intensity. Something in that face reminded him of... of
something he both desperately wanted to remember yet longed
desperately to forget. A dead dream resurrected from his hellish
childhood. The one nightmare he repeatedly pushed away had now
suddenly come to life!
    Unbidden, an image of his mother
materialized in his maggoty brain. She was leaning over him, one
hand clamped on his frail shoulder, the other pointing to an open
book. Young Theodore had not wanted to look at the picture, but
Mommy had insisted, and Mommy always got what she
wanted.
    “Look at Him, you little shit! LOOK
AT HIM!!” , her shrill voice had demanded. Even through the haze
of years Pussbag could still smell the sent of