Lost Signals (18 page)

“Anything tonight
 
?” he asked.

Kocher’s eyes looked wild. Daniel guessed it had something to do with all the caffeine pills he was chewing, but there were other things, too.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Well
 
?”

“Oh. Yeah. Most of the usual stuff. Espera. He said he’s dead. He’s in the dark. We’re all going to die. The usual.”

Daniel nodded.

Espera had died months ago, before any of them had heard of the Palace. It was a short firefight. They found him up on the hill, in the bushes, already dead. A lot of grown-ass men cried that day.

“Anything else
 
?” There was always something else. Kocher spent a lot of hours alone up here and he wasn’t always forthcoming on what the radio spit out at him.

“My mother. You know. She said she’s dead, that there was an accident and she’s dead and everyone else is too.”

Daniel nodded again. “You call your mother
 
?” There were a couple of Afghani burner phones in the unit, worth their weight in gold for short calls back home. There were never enough minutes to go around.

“She’s fine.”

Kocher was fidgety, but looked okay. He was mostly fine after having talked with his family back home, having heard for himself that they were all right. They found it a bit strange he insisted to talk to each and every one of them, asking intimate questions to verify it was really them. But they had gone along with it, this far.

Daniel’s earlier call to Kocher’s mom had explained the situation. Sort of.

“Should I wake Mack up
 
? It’s his shift, isn’t it
 
?” Daniel said.

Kocher shook his head violently. “I’m good for a few more hours.”

“Nick, you’ve been up for days. Let—”

“No.”

“Why do you keep listening, man
 
? Why not turn it off for a couple of hours
 
?”

“Because I’m afraid that the voices will come even with the radio off. That maybe they won’t need it any more.”

Daniel didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re fucked in the head, Kocher. Okay, fine. But you let me know if you get tired, all right
 
?”

“Yeah, sure. I will.”

“Okay.”

He turned to leave.

“Hey, Shaw
 
?”

“Yeah,” he said, behind his back.

“I think I heard my sister.”

“What
 
?”

“My kid sister. Talking to me. On the comms.”

Daniel rubbed his face. “That’s awful, man. You should let Mack take over. You don’t need to do this tonight.”

“No, no, it’s fine. But stay with me for a while
 
?”

Daniel had been up for 48 hours. He was running on fumes and caffeine pills.

“Sure, Nick. Sure.”

He pulled up a chair. They sat in silence.

***

Mornings, they spent in the relative shade of the courtyard, strewn about like sea cows on the beach. The heat was intense. The unlucky SOBs on guard duty were doomed to be roasted alive.

Daniel checked in on Kocher and found him snoring loudly in his cot, jaw and arms clenched. He seemed to whimper now and then.

Stafford walked by.

“He been out long
 
?” he asked and pointed at the sleeping man.

The marine shook his head.

“Nah, just an hour ago.”

“That cocksucker Mack let him take another shift
 
?”

“Yeah.”

James Davis was in the canteen. He was holding a hand fan to his face, unwilling to surrender to the heat. Of course, the rest of him was bathing in sweat, but his head was cool and perspiration-free though and that seemed to be enough for him.

In his other hand, he was holding a picture of his wife and kid, creased and dirty.

“Davis,” Daniel said.

“Hey, man.” James waved his fan around.

”Still fighting that fight, huh
 
?”

“Yeah, man. Fuck this heat. I’ll never surrender.”

“How’s the wife
 
?” He motioned towards the photograph.

The man beamed.

“Good, man. My daughter is learning how to walk.”

“That’s great. That’s really good. Listen, we have to do something about Kocher.”

“Yeah
 
?”

Daniel nodded. “Mack is fine with letting him take over all his shifts, so while he spent the last few days jerking it, Kocher was up there listening to that fucking radio day and night. He’s gone loopy.”

“Did it say anything
 
?”

“Well, yeah. The same spooky shit. But I think it’s getting to him.”

“So why is he listening to it
 
?”

Daniel looked away. “I don’t know, man. I think he’s kind of getting off on it. You know
 
? Like when your girl cheats on you and you want to know all the disgusting details
 
? Because it feels good to hurt
 
?”

James said nothing for a while, then
 
: “That sounded like you were talking from experience.”

Daniel shrugged. “Maybe I am. Anyway, we got to either get Mack to do his fucking job or we find someone else to take over.”

“Why not shut it off
 
?”

“You know we can’t do that.”

“Why not
 
?”

“Because we might get our orders. Because we have to check in with command.”

James scoffed. “We’re not getting shit, man. They forgot we’re out here.”

Daniel wanted to laugh at him, but he wasn’t feeling very jovial. A small part of his brain was telling him that James might be right. Maybe they had forgotten about them. “You gonna help me with this or not
 
?”

“Of course I’ll help you.” He got up. “I just like a little foreplay.”

“Your mom never asked for it.”

Neither of them laughed, but he appreciated the effort.

***

Mack was at his post, for once.

“Hey, Mack,” Daniel said. “We gotta talk.”

He didn’t move. When Daniel put his hand on his shoulder, he jumped.

“What the fuck, man
 
!” he yelled and put the headphones down.

Daniel grabbed him, lifted him off his feet and drove him into the wall. “You fucking asshole.”

“Whoa-whoa.” James tried to pull him off. “Calm the fuck down, ladies
 
!”

“This jackass is wearing earplugs,” Daniel said.

Suddenly, James didn’t feel like helping. Mack held his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry. I was taking a break, okay
 
? You wanna get your hands off me
 
?”

He let him go.

“You’re supposed to listen to the fucking radio, Mack. That’s your fucking job.”

“Fuck you. My job ain’t to listen to some fucking ghost talking to me—”

“Keep your voice down” James said.

“No man, fuck both of you. You wanna come do this
 
? I don’t see you volunteering.”

They didn’t answer.

“That’s what I thought,” Mack said, smoothing down his uniform.

Daniel threw the headphones at him.

“Just do your fucking job, asshole.”

***

They woke up to the sound of a gunshot. They scrambled, in their briefs, to grab their rifles and run to their posts.

Daniel ran up to the roof. He met Stafford running down the stairs.

“What the fuck is going on
 
?”

“I don’t know
 
! There’s nobody out there.”

“Did it come from inside
 
?”

“I don’t fucking know
 
!”

They both ran back down and out into the courtyard.

“Davis
 
! Where are the shots coming from
 
?”

“There’s nobody out there, man
 
; everybody was at their posts. They didn’t see shit.”

Daniel looked around the courtyard, at the marines gathered, confusion in their eyes.

“Where’s Kocher
 
?” Daniel asked.

They looked at each other.

In the tiny room, Kocher sat slumped in his chair, the gun still hanging in his limp hang.

“God damn it.” Daniel punched the wall and instantly regretted it.

“Fuck,” James said.

“I’m gonna kill that piece of shit.” Daniel pushed through the crowd of men. “Where is he
 
?” He pulled out his firearm and went looking.

He caught sight of him between two doorways, darting.

“Come back here, you piece of shit
 
!”

Instead of chasing after him, Daniel took a right and circled around. He caught the man by the throat as he stepped into the corridor.

He put the gun under his jaw.

“Open your fucking mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

He let go of his throat and grabbed his face, forcing his mouth open. Then he pushed the muzzle in.

“You couldn’t do your job, could you
 
?”

The man stank of sweat and fear. It revolted him.

“You couldn’t even finish that one shift, could you, you fucking coward.”

The soldiers were on him before he could decide if he was going to pull the trigger or not. He let them drag him away.

***

They let him cool off up in the roof, under guard. As much as Davis could be considered to be guarding him.

James had been forced to explain to the rest of the marines what was going on. He thought it’d be harder to explain, harder to convince them, but they had gone along with it easily enough.

The dead were talking to them through the radio.

The stories had been going around anyway. Some of them had caught snatches of conversations that Kocher had had. Others had been told by the ones in the know.

Out here, it was easy to believe in anything.

Shaw and Davis spent the morning talking shit about people they used to know, back when they were civilians, back when they were still in basic, back when they were actually part of the war.

Then they went downstairs for the funeral.

Out back, the marines had dug a hole deep enough to prevent the jackals from digging him up. They broke a chair and made a wooden cross. Gave his dog tags to Daniel.

Radio to command had gotten no response. There was no medevac. They argued about sending him to a nearby base on a Humvee, but decided against it. They were technically behind enemy lines.

So they put him in the ground in the Palace. James said some words, though Daniel didn’t think he was religious. He knew scripture though. He was a preacher’s son.

Later, they shared a smoke over the grave.

“This desert is going to eat all of us,” James said, and walked off.

***

Daniel woke up in a bed full of sand. He got up, dusting himself off, and met Stafford on his way to the comms.

“What the fuck happened to you
 
?”

“Sand, man. It gets fucking everywhere.”

Stafford shook his head.

“No shit.”

Someone had gotten the dubious honor of cleaning up the radio equipment. There was still a stain on the wall. Sand had covered up the blood on the floor. He guessed the stain was going to stay there for some time.

“Well, if this place wasn’t haunted before, it sure as fuck is now,” Daniel said to the empty room.

“At least this one’s on our side,” James said from behind him, making him jump.

“God damn it, Davis.”

“What, jumpy already
 
?” He laughed.

“You’re an asshole. You wanna do this
 
?”

“Hell no. Good luck.” He left Daniel to his task.

“The days are easy . . .”

He put the headphones on.

***

There was nothing but static for most of the afternoon. Then came the voices. He couldn’t tell if they were in Pashto, or English or what. They were fading in and out, all of them talking at once. Gunfire in the background.

He didn’t try to reply. He knew this part.

Then, later, came another voice, clearer. American.

“Darkhorse Six, come in.”

That wasn’t command reaching out to them. He recognized the voice.

“Palace here, receiving.”

“How are ya, Daniel
 
?”

“Hey Espera. How’s the dirt treating you
 
?”

“Can’t complain. It’s better being dead than being alive. The worst has already happened.”

“Yeah.” He was clutching the mic, knuckles white.

“I’ll tell you what, man, catching that bullet in the throat wasn’t fun, but it’s a lot fucking better than what’s coming for you guys.”

Daniel coughed. His throat was always dry. He spat on the stones between his boots. Was that blood
 
?

Just sand.

“You feeling all right, Daniel
 
?”

He’d heard the voices before, but it was still hard to understand. Everyone has heard weird stories about the desert and the ruins that litter it. But it was always someone they knew, who had heard it from someone else. You never met the guy who had lived through it.

At first, they figured they were getting pranked by another unit, or that there was a seriously fucked up PSYOP that the Afghanis were using on them. Having their dead friend talk to them. That’s how it started
 
; with Espera. But then the other voices came in. People they knew, dead and alive. Then, they had believed.

And like jarheads would, they took it in stride.

“I got someone here, wants to talk to you.”

Daniel said nothing. The voices never got tired. Never gave up. There was no reason to converse with them, to take the bait.

“Say hi, Jackie,” Espera said.

“Hi, baby,” the voice came from the radio, crystal clear. The girl he’d left behind. Who had in turn, left him behind.

“You’re not Jackie,” Daniel said.

“I miss you.”

He gritted his teeth. There was sand in his mouth.

“I do, I really do. I’m sorry we had that fight.”

“We didn’t have a fight. You fucked that guy from work. For months.”