12/11/07
042 – Triangle
No one saw the first red blip on the backpack light. Tom was telling about his wife, who was pregnant back home. At least, she had been pregnant three years ago, when Tom had still been at home. He had been here the longest.
They were Delta company, the blue triangle stitched to their sleeves, part of the Winged division. Their dragons were surrounding the perimeter of the camp, effective as any guard could be. One of them had noticed the blipping backpack and shuffled in place curiously. One of the muck boys went over and stroked its neck. It relaxed, but the boy didn’t see the light.
Tom finished his story and took a drink out of his hip flask. They all had flasks, even though none were allowed. But after over two years of looking for something that wasn’t there, waiting for the light bulb that would never light up. The Mutts weren’t out there.
The muck boy stumbled as he walked back to the camp and knocked the backpack over. He turned back a little as if to pick it up, but someone called for him to leave it, his MRE was ready. The light continued to blip, face down in the dirt.
They all knew Tom had been there the longest, but the others liked to alternatively brag and complain about their own times.
“I’ve been out here eighteen months already. When are they going to get the message?”
“Those guys up top are idiots. They gave us BZ. For what? There’s nothing out here!”
“They could be spending their money on better things, like padded seats for their can.”
“The Mutts never existed. It’s some kind of control thing.”
“Yes they do! My uncle saw one.”
“Your uncle, eh? The one that went AWOL?”
The accused sniffed.
“He was on duty for ten years, doing what we’re doing. What would you do?”
Brags flew across the circle, but Tom silenced them with a raised hand. His eyes were focused on the fallen backpack. Under the thick, weather-beaten plastic frame, a light could just barely be seen blinking, red against the white sand.
“Looks like we have company.”
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