the Last Run (1987) (35 page)

Read the Last Run (1987) Online

Authors: Leonard B Scott

BOOK: the Last Run (1987)
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"Roots can strangle you. If it's not really for you, you should walk away and start a new life."

Wade thought of the long days his granddad had sweated on the tractor and of the small cemetery on Black Jack Hill. He answered in a whisper, "No, I can't walk away from that kind of responsibility."

Virginia raised up and looked into his eyes. "Like you can't walk away from your team?"

Wade answered without hesitation. "Yeah."

Virginia shook her head. "Your life is run by other people. One day you're going to have to live for yourself."

Wade hugged her to him. "Ginny, I don't do anything I don't wanna do. You've met the guys. If you could see the farm you'd understand. What about you? You love your singing. Could you just walk away from it? You love New York, too. Could you live any place else?"

Virginia sighed. "No, I can't give up my singing. I love it too much. I'm close, Matt, real close to really making the big step up. It's such a good feeling knowing people like my work."

Wade ran his hand over her bare buttocks. "I like your work, too."

She smiled and stroked his lower stomach. "I like yours same- same, G. I. Do you wanna short-time for T-T money?"

Wade reached for nonexistent pockets. "Me cheap Charlie. You souvenir me this time, okay?"

Virginia lay back on the bed, pulling him on top of her. "You'll pay. With your body."

Wade rolled his eyes up, feeling her breasts against his chest, and shuddered. "Damn, and I was gonna save myself for a litde Okie farm girl."

"Setde for a New Yorker, buster."

Wade felt a twinge of sadness as he began kissing her neck. He loved this woman, but their conversation had made things clear-their futures were in different worlds. He could never possess her. And he didn't really want to. He couldn't hold her back. He only wanted her to be happy, even if that meant losing her.

Gibson sat in his room at An Khe, nursing a hot beer. Before him was a partially written letter to his dad. The Rangers had moved back to An Khe from Mustang after his team returned that afternoon. The company was throwing a big party in the mess hall to celebrate their success. Gibson didn't feel like celebrating. Something inside him needed to communicate his feelings to a man, thousands of miles away, who would understand.

His dad had been in the Army for twenty-five years and had retired in 1964; his dad knew war. He'd been in Korea with the First Cavalry and had been wounded three times. The horrible white scars told the story. First Sergeant Donald Gibson was a gruff man on the outside, but his eyes often grew misty when he talked about the men he had served with in Korea. His father would know what his son felt.

It was a proud day when his dad put on his old uniform and pinned on the gold bar following college graduation. He'd told his son he was proud and loved him very much, but had also said, "I'm glad you're not gonna be cannon fodder like your of man, but damn it, take care of your troops. They fight the war every day. Remember, without them, you ain't a leader."

Gibson leaned back in his chair, took a sip of Budweiser, and pictured in his mind the small house on the outskirts of San Antonio. His mother's touch was in the flowers and shrubs, and his dad's was in the beat-up Chevy out front. "Can't buy a car when I got kids to take care of," his dad had said. The Chevy was a constant reminder of the sacrifice his parents bore by sending him and his sister to college.

Gibson picked up the pen and began writing again. He'd bought a new car just before shipping to Vietnam and had given it to his mother. He knew his dad would never accept it. The car was his only way of saying thanks . . . until now.

Thumper and Mary Ann strolled hand-in-hand along the beach as the sky darkened. When they arrived at the small cabin, Mary Ann opened the door, but Thumper released her hand and turned away. He sat on the wooden porch steps and looked out at the approaching storm clouds. Mary Ann lowered her head in silence. She'd hoped he would want to take her inside and love her. They'd never made love before, and she desperately wanted to become a part of him. She walked dejectedly inside for her robe.

The sea pounded the beach as a thunderstorm blew in, kicking the waves up into a frenzy.

Thumper watched the lightning flash in the night sky. The wind was cool and intoxicating as it lashed his bare chest with sand.

Mary Ann came back to the door, wearing her robe. "Get in here before it rains."

Thumper held his position, defying the wind's assault, and smiled. "I love it."

Mary Ann stepped out of the doorway, her hair blowing back, and sat down beside him. "You love what?"

The big man took in a deep breath of the cool air, keeping his eyes on the turbulent clouds. "I love it when it storms like this. It's so powerful the earth seems to shudder."

His body was taut as steel as she kissed his shoulder and put her arm around him.

He threw his arms around her. "It's so much better sharing this with you. I want to share everything with you from now on."

She squeezed him again and looked at the rumbling clouds approaching. She'd never thought of them as beautiful before, but there was a strange majesty about them.

The first sprinkles caressed the two lovers as they embraced.

Mary Ann sighed and began to release him, hoping he would now come inside. In private he might finally take her in his strong arms and end her throbbing torment of desire. She'd dreamed too many nights of his heavy muscular body on hers, whispering his need for her. She had finally found a man who finally made her feel small within his grasp. There were few who could ever make her feel that way. This man who loved the fury of a storm was the one she wanted.

She'd come to Da Nang knowing he would become hers or would lose him forever. That afternoon she'd thought it was all over, but now the batde was won . . . almost.

Mary Ann stood and rubbed his thick neck. "Let's go inside, honey."

His gaze was still fixed on the turbulent sea, but he reached up and took her hand, squeezing it tighdy. The light sprinkle turned to biting slaps. Thumper turned slowly and pulled her down to him as his eyes reflected another lightning flash.

She lowered herself into his protective arms as the rain began beating down and soaking them. With a dripping hand, he pushed her wet, tangled hair away from her face and kissed her passionately. They both fell back slowly to the glistening wooden planks and he pressed his heated body against hers. The rumbling skies went unnoticed as he nibbled and bit at her neck and lowered his head to her heaving breasts. Suddenly he raised up, putting his arms under her back and bare legs. He picked her up easily and stood as the rain whipped their bodies.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and bit his chest ten- deiiy, tasting his hot perspiration. Thumper kicked open the door with a powerful shove and walked into the darkened room.

Chapter 17

26 September

The morning sky showed no trace of the previous night's fury. A lone man ran up the beach, slapping the wet sand with his bare feet. Matt Wade dodged and jumped over washed-up debris and increased his pace. The clean air and morning coolness felt exhilarating in his lungs as he pushed his glistening body to the limit. Sweat stung his eyes but he ran faster. He wanted to feel the pain of the exertion and going that one step beyond. Nothing was on his mind but defeating the pain. A washed-up log fifty meters distant was now his goal. He wouldn't quit until he reached it. He strained harder, pumping his legs and arms in perfect synchronization, and reached the log but still didn't stop. It isn't over! It ain't never over! He saw a clump of seaweed a hundred paces away. A new challenge! His lungs burned and his legs felt rubbery. His arms seemed to weigh a hundred pounds and ached at his effort, but he kept pushing. Reaching the seaweed, he slowed and sucked air into his pounding chest. Weaving like a drunk, he put his hands on his hips-they hurt when left hanging-and as he continued to walk, he tried to take in deep breaths. God it's great! his mind cried to the heavens. The feeling of such power, such ... aw shit, it's great!

Wade stepped out into the cool muddy sea. He needed the run. It was payment for sleeping with a beautiful woman who he knew would soon be leaving. He had to clear his mind of her and begin thinking again of his team and what lay ahead. She was wonderful, but only a fleeting dream. The war was reality. The pain of the run had brought that reality back. In a short time he'd have to place her picture back in the scrapbook in his mind.

He felt strong and unbeatable. Alone, he had pushed himself to the point of exhaustion. He was a leader, a man respected by his team, and he was desired by a ravishing beauty who men would die for.

"I love it!" he yelled to the waves that broke weakly around him.

Wade looked up the beach from where he started his run. It was a good two miles away. Nobody could have run it faster, he thought to himself, feeling pride in the accomplishment. He saw a speck moving farther up the beach and froze. It was a running man.

Who the hell is that? Wade thought as he waded from the water. He was furious that another human would spoil his deserted beach. It was like climbing a mountain peak and standing alone, victorious, and then seeing another climber come up beside you and ruin everything.

Wade couldn't make out who it was in the distance, but it was obvious that whoever he was, he wasn't a casual jogger. His arms and legs were moving in a blur. Damn, he thought, the son of a bitch is faster than me.

Wade's joyous feeling of accomplishment sunk to his toes. He knew the approaching runner was another form of reality: no matter how good you were, there was always somebody better. Wade lowered his head and smiled. It had been a good lesson for him. He looked back at the runner and his smile widened. He raised his hand. "Go, Preacher!"

The small, sweat-streaked Indian didn't break his blistering stride as he waved his hand in acknowledgment.

Wade watched him for another minute, then shook his head. "Thanks, Preacher."

The sergeant began a slow walk back to the cabin. It was time to wake from his dream.

Thumper looked at the woman sleeping beside him and listened to her gende breathing. With Mary Ann he had discovered another world where there was no dirt, grime, or sweat, no M-16s, grenades, or olive drab, no psyching up for a mission or stomach-wrenching fear climbing up his throat. He lay on clean sheets beside a wonderful, loving woman instead of on the ground with five scared men in an unrelenting jungle. For too long he'd been caught up in the other world where death and misery were a breath away. That world had claimed his brother and many close friends. He'd searched too long for answers that didn't matter anymore. It was insane to keep pushing to the edge, believing he'd make it. The odds were against him. It was just a matter of time.

The woman beside him had shown him a world he'd forgotten about. The world where love and affection replaced death and destruction. He reached out and touched Mary Ann's bare skin. Within her embrace was escape and hope for a new life. He felt desperate in his need to take hold of her world before it was too late.

Mary Ann awoke to Thumper's touch.

He looked into her eyes and spoke softly. "I've been looking at you for an hour. Mary Ann, I don't ever want to leave you again. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I've been lying here thinking about us and how much I've missed by not being with you."

Mary Ann had never seen that look in his eyes before. He was so sincere and serious. Her smile disappeared as she touched his face lovingly. "I know what you mean. We'll have a whole lifetime together in just a few short months. I hope you'll still love me when I get fat and my hair turns gray."

"I'll always love you. But I don't want to wait for months. Let's get married today. Let's start a new life right now."

Mary Ann sat up. Thumper wasn't talking sense, but he sounded as if he really meant what he was saying.

"Honey, I can't. I'd have to leave if we got married now. You still have seven months left. There's time for us. I'll come and see you every month until I go home and I'll be waiting when you come back."

Thumper put his hand around her neck and pulled her down to him. "That may be sooner than you think."

"Thumper, I can't, I . .

Wade and Virginia were sitting in the recreation mess hall eating breakfast when Woodpecker and Preacher set down their trays to join them.

Wade winked at Preacher. "Enjoy your run?"

Black Eagle smiled brighdy. "Yes, did you?"

"Yeah." Wade looked over his shoulder at the food line, then back to the two men. "Where's Russian and Rose?"

The redhead exchanged glances with Preacher and lowered his head.

"Rose had a little trouble last night. He's not feeling too good this morning."

Wade rolled his eyes. "What'd he do this time?"

Preacher began giggling and tried to cover it with a quick cough. Woodpecker shook has head, also trying to hide a grin.

Wade set down his fork and, winking at Virginia, leaned back in his chair. "Come on guys, who's gonna tell me?"

Woodpecker raised his head, trying to keep a straight face.

"We went to the recreation hall last night, but there was only about a dozen broads ... I mean girls, there. . . . Sorry, Ginny. The storm musta kept most of 'em away. Well, the bro . . . girls wouldn't have nothing to do with any of us. TTiey were clinging to these Air Force guys that were throwin' big bucks around. Rose got a case of the butt and starts drinkin' them red sweet drinks called uh . . .

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