Fort Bragg
That same night, Barry was with another group of recruits that, a little at time, was almost become extinct by then.
Of the original group only two were left, Barry and a certain Daniel Putnam: all of the others had quit. The awareness of that, instead of galvanizing Barry, depressed hm.
There being just the two of them left felt terrible, as though they'd lost the others in a real war.
If the purpose was to make the recruit forget that it was just a selection, Trautman was succeeding in it.
The wind blew on their faces, lashing them with rain drops and freezing air. The rucksacks were heavy, their legs were exhausted.
“Help”
Barry's thoughts suddenly stopped.
The black guy turned like dog hearing a distant howling.
Daniel turned too to Barry, and the two looked into each other's eyes.
“Fuck no” said Daniel, hoping to dissuade Barry from doing something about that sound.
“I say no, Barry”
Barry turned again to the direction of the screams that, in the meantime, had become groans.
“Fuck, come on... It's a trap at the very least. Don't you understand? It's a trap for sure”
But Barry's gaze was fixed in the scream's direction like a wolf that already found its prey. His mind had 'hooked on' those screams and for no reason in the world would he have let them go.
Those screams had the shrill note of panic, an almost subliminal note that no one in the world could fake so they could only be real screams.
And Barry, in Vietnam, had learnt them all too well.
“Fuck off Barry” shouted Daniel, while the black guy was leaving on his own, with that slow way of walking the recruits have when it's almost over.
“Fuck you Delmore! Can you hear me? Fuck you”
Barry went toward those screams while Daniel, instead, went on his way alone.
Dick head – thought Barry.
As he walked down to the river, Daniel's insults faded away and the cry for help became nearer.
The depression continued to climb down to the little river, and so did Barry.
“Help, help, heeeeeeelp. Fuck, I-don't-want-to-die, fuck!”
Barry would have run, but he couldn't, nor could he remove his rucksack either. Had they found him without his rucksack, they would have disqualified him.
He wiped his face, while the wind seemed to abruptly change direction, as if Barry was near a whirlwind.
He lifted his gaze to the sky for a while. Maybe, a whirlwind was coming for real.
Jesus.
He staggered a little, but proceeded.
Then he leaned on a tree log, just to catch his breath.
“Fuck, help... Someone... Help!”
Then Barry chin up, took another couple of steps, and finally saw the scene right below him.
The guy was lying stuck on the river bed, under a fallen tree.
He was under the water up to his shoulders.
Barry needed just a glance to understand that it wasn't a set up: the guy was not acting.
The tree had probably started falling when the guy was just passing and – God only knew how – he hadn't even realized it so, now, he was stuck under it and partly under the water.
Barry removed his rucksack very fast but, strangely, he didn't feel any pain while doing it.
He was under the effect of adrenaline already.
“I 'M COMING” he cried.
The kid turned his head as much as he could, but the water was already lapping his mouth.
“Uh fuck! Oh God Yes, please!”
Barry tried to run down to the river, but he slipped on the mud, fell and finally rolled into the water. Strangely, again, he felt no pain.
“Oh God man, please: call help. Fuck, do something!”
Barry walked into the water until he reached the fallen tree. The rain of the previous days had moved the earth and the fucking whole tree had fallen because of that.
Barry slipped under the tree, held it the best he could, tested his hold, then tried to lift it.
“UAAAARGH”
It didn't work.
He re-adjusted his hold, dug his heels better in the water, on the river bed, and gave it another try.
“AAAAAARGH”
Nothing again.
The son of a bitch was heavier than a truck.
Barry paused to catch his breath and looked out of the corner of his eyes at the level the water had just reached: it was higher. The water was getting higher every second.
Was that really possible?
He looked up to the mud walls and saw some small rivulets coming down from them.
Sure that it was possible.
The water level was rising in front of his eyes and the guy could die under it.
Or rather... He was dying already.
Barry went under water again, but this time up to his head too.
He felt the river bed with his feet the best he could, then dug them in again.
When he got back to the surface, his head was pouring water from everywhere and to breath he had to spit a little.
Then he prepared for another effort.
“Oh god, please, help me... I don't want to die, fuck, I don't want to die”
“Call help” Barry replied in a cold tone.
Then he yelled with the effort, while he gave it another try.
“AAAAAAAAARGH”
This time something moved.
The boy wriggled a little for free, but an instant later the tree fell back onto him.
Barry let his hold go and fell on his back in the water.
He was exhausted... And the pain was becoming unbearable.
He was out of breath and he was feeling as if his heart was going to explode inside his chest.
Then he started to see stars.
Now I am going to faint – he thought.
But he didn't.
He passed one hand through his hair, he squeezed it then closed his eyes.
He tried to think about it, but his brain was yelling only: yelling because of pain, fatigue, cold, fear. His heart was beating as if it was going to explode inside his chest, so much did he need to breathe.
Then Barry remembered some words.
What do you do if they kill you?
We study the next move, sir.
The next move.
But it was impossible... Thinking was impossible.
He had to use more strength on that tree because there was nothing else he could do.
The next move.
Barry looked at the guy: the water level was now at his mouth and the kid had difficulties in breathing already.
Then he looked around.
There was something not right... There was something amiss.
“Where's your rucksack?”
“It's - blur – it's below”
Barry got close and grabbed the kid's shoulder pads, pulled them a little and examined them.
Yes, he was still wearing his rucksack under the water and maybe that's what was keeping him trapped down there.
Barry searched his chest, then pulled out a bayonet knife from his sheath.
“Stay still” he said.
“Oh God”
Barry tried to insert the blade under the shoulder pad, but there wasn't enough space.
So he turned the knife on its flat side and this time he got it inserted and started cutting.
Snap!
Now he had to cut the other too.
“Oh God” said the guy, and started struggling free
“Stay still and call for help”
The next move.
“Call for help” Barry insisted.
“HELP”
“HEY” someone cried from above.
Barry was tempted to look up, but he didn't: he had to cut the other shoulder pad and this was deeper under-water, and so invisible and even more difficult to reach. He had to stay focused despite the desperate yells of the other recruit.
“WE ARE HERE! HELP! HEEEEELP! HELP US! RECRUIT IN DANGER! HELP”
Nothing... Barry couldn't find the other shoulder pad.
Barry put his bayonet back in its sheath, then he went under-water again.
Everything was dark and cold.
With his hand he blindly touched the recruit's body until he found the rucksack behind his back..
Then he re-emerged.
He grabbed the boy's shoulders and started kicking the rucksack: one blow, then two.
“Hey” said a voice beside him.
They were wearing black, not olive drab: they weren't some other recruits, but personnel from the selection process.
“We need to remove the rucksack from under his back” Barry said.
“Ok” the man replied.
A second man, who had just came down the slope, moved beside the boy, ready to use mouth to mouth artificial breathing had the water risen over his head.
Barry and the other man started kicking the rucksack.
No results.
And yet, this time Barry's mind moved quicker.
“Let's lift the log all together – he said – on my three”
Everybody took position and prepared.
“One, two, THREE!”
“Now boy, now!” said one of the men but the boy had been still for so long under the freezing water that moving proved too difficult.
“COME ON, FUCK!”
Barry gave a kick to the rucksack and the boy vanished under water to reappear a little way behind, finally free.
“YES! SHIT YES!”
The three men let the log fall back down.
They went to the boy, grabbed his uniform and dragged him onto the river bank.
Then they let him lie on the dirt road.
Barry sat on the ground, lowered himself onto his knees and smiled while giving him a couple of pats on the boy's shoulder.
Then he looked up to the two men that had helped him.
“Oh God, thank you guys”
“Of course” replied one of the two.
Barry received a hook to his jaw, a powerful punch that ran through him like an electricity shock. As he received it, he heard a horrible STOK! sound and he bit his own tongue.
Pain exploded abruptly inside his head, then he saw stars.
His body turned like a wheel and he finally fell to the ground.
A while later, the whole world above him turned black.