all god's orphans
Chapter 41

“What the fuck happened here?” Brian’s mind staggered to comprehend the sight. Each man had his hands bound behind his back. They had been stripped naked and executed. Their dead eyes were already grossly decayed.

“Maybe this is who those other two were raping.” Replied Wes and Brian couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“Do you think the army executed these guys?” Wes lit a smoke and offered one to Brian who took it without hesitating.

“I don’t want to defend the army,” Wes began. “But I haven’t seen them do anything like this. I’ve heard about roaming groups of vigilantes doing it, but not the army. They say it a lot, like it’s a thing, but I’ve never seen them execute anyone.”

“When I was sworn in, they mentioned something about the uniform code of military justice being amended and penalties being severe, but I wasn’t paying much attention.” Brian suddenly remembered that they only had until nightfall to bury seventeen people. He wanted to get it done earlier so they could go find Daniel. Without another word, he set about digging. Wes watched for a moment and then joined him.

Brian hacked at the soil with his shovel until it felt like someone had lit fires on his shoulders. His muscles burned all over and he couldn’t go any faster. Every time he looked at the sun, it seemed to have moved several degrees. Wes was beside him, but not capable of his pace. It made sense. It wasn’t his boyfriend’s life that hung in the balance. Brian was just glad that he had help. They dug as fast as they could, even skipping lunch, but as the sun began to sink towards the horizon, they were barely over halfway done. Brian began to think this was impossible. He focused on the ground and the movement of his shovel. The stench of the dead men had long since stopped bothering him. He pushed ahead, thinking only of Daniel. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The sun slipped below the hills in the distance as they dragged the last body into the trench. As they began hurriedly covering the grave, they heard the approach of another black SUV. MacDunn hopped out, followed by Holt and Buck. He surveyed the scene and nodded.

“Good work, gentlemen.” He said, but neither of them trusted him. “Now fill in the hole and follow me back to the AGO. I’ve got something else for you to do.” Wes tensed up and Brian could tell he was on the edge of stupid. He reached out and put a hand on Wes’ arm. The pleading radiated from Brian’s eyes and Wes decided it would be best not to jeopardize the only real friendship he had. Instead, he took out his aggression on the dirt.

Darkness was painting the sky when they finished and as they headed for their SUV, MacDunn stopped them.

“I don’t like you two together.” He announced. “Wes, you come with me in my car. Buck will ride with the new guy.” Wes didn’t have to look to feel Brian trying everything in his power to psychically communicate with him, begging him to not cause a scene. He sighed and slid into the back seat of the SUV as Buck bounded over to Brian, smiling like a child.

“Is it true that you shot a Mountain Dew bottle out of a guy’s hand while he was drinking it?” Asked Buck as they followed MacDunn back to base.

“How do you know about that?” Asked Brian.

“Everybody knows about that.” Buck informed him. “That sounds badass.” Brian didn’t respond. “So you’re like a real life sniper, huh?” Brian just looked at him, but said nothing. Buck nodded. “Cool.” He said. “That’s cool. Snipers don’t really talk a lot, huh? I get it. Silent death, right?”

“Sure.” Said Brian as he drove.

When they arrived back at the AGO, night had fallen completely. There seemed to be a higher degree of activity than usual and the floodlights atop the tower of scaffolding in the middle of camp were blasting sharp light all over the place. As they parked in the motor pool, Brian realized they had missed dinner. That was usually the only time he could talk to Carla without anyone questioning him.

“What’s going on?” Buck asked, but Brian had no idea. He could see that most of the camp had gathered in front of the stage beneath the scaffold, but his view of the stage was blocked. As they made their way towards all the commotion, he could finally the stage clearly. There were a couple of sergeants he recognized and one man he couldn’t identify owing to the man’s black balaclava. Murmurs fluttered throughout the gathered crowd. He scanned their faces looking for Wes or Carla, but he could not find them. Everyone was facing the stage. After a long while, the man in the balaclava stepped forward and tapped on the mic.

“Good evening soldiers and civilians.” He began. His voice was calm but with a practiced edge beneath it. “I am here tonight to underscore the importance of obedience in this new world. In times past, many transgressions could be forgiven. However, in this harsh new reality, we cannot afford such luxuries. Sacrifices must be made.” As Brian listened, his blood turned cold and a ball of nausea about the size of an avocado pit suddenly grew in his guts. “These people,” He said, gesturing to one side of the camp. “Have been convicted of offenses for which the penalty is death. Their executions will be carried out according to the new UCMJ and you will be witnesses.” At the edge of the camp, near the wire, about a dozen people stood in a line, a black bag covering their head. They were dressed in orange jumpsuits with their hands bound behind their backs. A row of soldiers, also wearing balaclavas, marched out from one of the tents with their rifles at “port arms” and took up a position directly opposite them.

The avocado pit grew instantly to the size of a cantaloupe and Brian thought he might vomit. An all-encompassing silence fell like a heavy blanket on the camp. Even the sounds of the forest stopped and in the absence of sound, Brian thought he could hear soft whimpering coming from beneath the black hoods.

“In accordance with the revised Uniform Code of Military Justice, sentence will now be carried out. May God have mercy on your souls.” Said the man on stage. “Ready.” He said, and the line of sharpshooters racked a round into the chamber of their weapons. “Aim.” Brian was startled by their precision. These men must have been professional army. Their moves were too crisp and rehearsed. The command to “fire” was followed so closely by the report of the guns that it almost drowned out the word. Brian shut his eyes against the sight, but he heard the bodies fall to the dirt. Anger, confusion, and sadness brewed in his stomach and he thought he might force himself to throw up in order to feel better. Before he could do anything, MacDunn stepped towards him holding a shovel.

“Guess what time it is.” He chirped, clearly enjoying this moment. Brian wanted to kill him. He had to dig a grave anyway, he figured. What’s one more body?

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