The Pale: Volume One by Jacob Long (red novels TXT) 📖

Kunar Province, Afghanistan

October 12, 2013

“Hello?” a sweet young woman’s voice fluttered over the computer’s speakers, but no video was being received, only a screen name and profile photograph.

“Hello?” a man replied. “Can you see me?”

“No,” the woman’s voice answered. “I suppose you can’t see me either.”

“No, just the profile pic. It’s a good picture, though.”

The profile picture of Skype user LatinaChic89, known to her friends as Christina Flores, showcased the young Latina’s big brown eyes, curly brown hair, and flawless caramel skin. A shining smile pushed her cheeks up into plump dimples. That day, her laptop camera took a photo of her sitting with a simple white blouse and a comfortable living space in the background. The man’s profile picture showed a soldier wearing his dress uniform and posed in front of an American flag. Specialist Adam Rodriguez could only be described as looking like a soldier, proud and stoic with a masculine chin and edgy features. His hair was cut in a tight, medium fade, and his face was clean shaven.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, but don’t they ever let you guys smile in those pictures?” Christina asked.

“Some of the higher-ranking officers smile, but at that rank, they actually have something to smile about.”

“Army life getting you down?”

“There are less irritating ways to almost qualify for food stamps,” Adam quipped.

“You do sound bitter,” Christina said. “You weren’t always like that.”

“Sorry. This place . . . this life tends to wear on you.”

“I guess it must.”

“Sorry,” Adam repeated.

“No, it’s okay,” Christina said. “It’s understandable. It’s actually kind of refreshing. You’re always acting like you’re indestructible. I want you to be yourself. That’s the Adam I like. You probably don’t get many chances to just be yourself in the Army.”

“No,” Adam replied, “I suppose not.”

Suddenly, the screen flickered, and the two could finally see each other in near real time. Adam could finally see his beautiful girlfriend. She still looked as vibrant as her photo, relaxing in her parent’s house. It was day in California, and the room behind Christina was framed by pleasant sunlight. Conversely, Adam no longer lived up to the peerless stoicism portrayed in his Army profile photograph. Adam’s eyes were hooded, and dark circles had grown in prominence around them. His hair had become matted and slightly unkempt during his time overseas. In place of the pristine US Army dress uniform was a rumpled digital-patterned combat uniform. It looked almost as haggard as Adam. Even Adam’s facial expression was haggard and lacked animation. He was sitting in a tight cubicle at a cafe run by the Military’s Welfare and Recreation organization.

“Oh, you look so tired,” Christina commented. “What time is it over there?”

Adam shrugged listlessly. “Late, I suppose.”

“You don’t have to stay up just to talk to me.”

Adam shook his head. “No, I do. It’s important to me, and you look really beautiful.”

Christina smiled warmly. “Thanks.”

There was so much love in Christina’s eyes when she looked into the camera. Adam’s typically icy heart melted. The two lovers just sat for a long moment, looking into each other’s eyes and not saying a word.

Eventually, Christina broke the silence. She bit her lip and said, “You must be going outside of the wire again.”

Adam sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing both of his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

“You always call when you’re about to go somewhere.”

Adam shrugged. “It’s important, you know, to call. You never know when it could be the last time.”

Christina shook her head. Just then, the service dropped most of the frames, so it appeared to Adam as a series of blurred-motion snapshots. “Don’t say that,” she admonished. “You’ll be fine. I thought everyone called you the angel of death over there.”

Adam smirked. “Yeah. Azrael, the angel of death.”

“Then what do you have to be worried about?” Christina jibed. “The angel of death has nothing to worry about.”

Adam shrugged, slouching in his chair and putting on a smug expression. “I guess you’re right about that.”

Christina smiled and shook her head. “You can be so full of yourself.”

“You seem to like it.”

“Don’t push it.”

Adam chuckled, and then his mood changed. He looked pensive. “I just wish I could shake this feeling I have. It’s different this time.”

Christina looked at Adam with adoration. She tried to assuage his fears. “Different? Why? Where are you going?”

“I’m not supposed tell you,” Adam admitted. “It’s classified.”

Christina appeared taken aback by this. “Are you serious?”

Adam exhaled sharply. “Yeah, I am. This one is big. They’re hardly even telling us anything, but I know it has to be big just because of everyone involved.”

“Like wha—” Christina cut her herself off. In the next moment, the video feed on Adam’s monitor went dark. Christina’s profile picture reappeared.

“Ugh, dammit.” Adam started clicking on the screen as if that would bring her back.

Christina’s voice sounded over the speakers. “Adam?”

“Chrissy?”

“Did your video just drop too?”

“Yeah, what kind of crappy internet are you using over there?”

Christina laughed. “Me? You’re the one in Nowhere, Afghanistan!”

Adam only chuckled.

“It’s okay. We can keep going like this,” Christina suggested.

Adam nodded to himself. “So what’s going on back home?”

“Oh, nothing much, with me, really. Téa and I talked a little yesterday. She called me out of the blue. It was a little awkward.”

Adam smiled. He found that amusing. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think she was, like, trying to relate to me or something. She was asking a lot about me and wanted to get together. I don’t know. It was nice that she was trying to get to know me better, but either I weird her out or she’s just shy or . . . something. Like I said, it was awkward.”

Adam continued to nod. Téa could be like that. She was his best friend back in the States, but she was the reserved type, even more so around stronger personalities, like Christina’s.

“Oh, the animals might be going a little crazy around here,” Christina continued.

“What do you mean?” Adam asked.

“There’ve been attacks, like, on people. The news called it a chupacabra.”

Adam found that kind of amusing. “Really? That’s funny. No one saw what bit them?”

Christina’s tone was dire. She always lent more credence to paranormal events because of her upbringing. “No one’s lived to tell the tale. They weren’t just bites, the bodies were discovered all torn apart. Organs were missing.”

Adam was shocked. “What? Really? Shit.”

“They don’t want people travelling alone at night anymore,” Christina finished.

Adam was awestruck. “Yeah, that’s probably smart. You got someone to buddy around with at night?”

“Yeah, you know, some friends from school, coworkers. Danny’s been real nice.”

“Danny?” Adam asked. Adam remembered Danny, and if it was the Danny he was thinking about, he didn’t want him hanging around his girl while he was gone. Adam and Danny Lacey had been in a bitter feud since high school, and Adam knew the guy wanted to steal Christina away from him. That natural suspicion and jealousy any soldier would have while deployed welled up in Adam’s chest. His face grew hot with anger. If he ever found out Danny put the moves on Christina, god help him—especially if it worked—Adam would beat him until he begged for mercy . . . twice.

“I can feel you stewing over there,” Christina said.

Adam rolled his eyes. “Can you blame me?”

“He’s just being nice.”

Adam shook his head. “That’s . . . that’s downright delusional thinking.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Christina said with a biting tone. “Jesus, I can’t believe how you talk to me nowadays. You sound more bitter every time you call. Sometimes I think maybe the Army changed you too much, that . . . if I ever see you again, the Adam that left won’t be the one I get back.”

Adam sighed. He had to admit, Christina was right. Every time they talked online, it felt like they’d strayed farther apart and had less in common. Adam knew he had changed. There were times he felt like he was only a shell. He’d spent so long in the Army only feeling irritation or anger or fear. Whenever he spoke to Christina, he had to pretend to be jovial, to affect a superficial charm, only it seemed that Christina could always see through it. He was afraid that it would drive her away from him. Adam cared less and less about things that used to matter to him, but he put on a brave face because he didn’t want to lose her.

Adam started to speak. He wanted to smooth things over, but then the computer sounded a tonal alert, and the screen popped up with a “duration of call” report. The call had been dropped.

Adam rolled his eyes and sighed, hunching over the desk with his hands on his face. “Dammit,” he muttered. He just couldn’t catch a break. Never mind. He was tired anyway, and he could just send her a text later. The next day was planned to be an early morning, so Adam picked himself up. He grabbed his hat on his way from the desk and pulled it on before he reached the door. He heard the wind raging outside, and it stopped him short. No doubt the tempest was kicking up sand in all directions. Sighing, Adam tugged the hat more tightly onto his head and opened the door.

The wind tried to yank the door from Adam’s grip the moment it was pushed outward. Not releasing the handle, Adam was simply dragged right along with it. The door pulled him into the wake of the raging sand. He stumbled off the stoop before regaining his balance. Adam moved around the door to set his full weight against it and then pressed the door closed like an old-timey farm hand trying to shift a cart with a broken wheel. All the while, it felt as if the wind would swing under the bill of his hat and scoop it off his head.

Gripping his hat in his hand and squinting against the barrage of sand, Adam trudged back to his housing unit. It was the dead of night, and the wind was whipping sand in every direction. Adam could hardly see the buildings ten feet from him. More than once, a random soldier, contractor, or local would emerge from the cloud like a phantom. To Adam’s great dismay, they were always wearing goggles over their eyes and a neck gaiter or towel over their mouths. When Adam first went to the MWR, he didn’t have the presence of mind to bring anything like that, so he just ducked his head into the current of sand and trudged on.

Stumbling, sliding, and feeling his way back, Adam finally returned to his housing unit, which was little more than a Conex that the Army allowed Adam and his roommate to live inside. Still, for Afghanistan, it was pretty sweet.

When Adam opened the door, his roommate, Specialist Alvarez, shielded his body from the onslaught of militant sand that erupted from the door in Adam’s wake. Considering that the young soldier was wearing nothing but boxers with his feet kicked up onto the desk in front of him, it was probably a losing battle.

“Ai! Cabron!” Alvarez exclaimed.

After Adam pulled the door shut, he looked skeptically at the near-naked soldier. Then he pulled off his hat as he squeezed between Alvarez’s chair and cot on the way to his area in the back of the unit. Sand had saturated Adam’s clothing and drizzled from his hair once it was released from the hat. Battered from his talk with Christina, how it ended, and his difficult march through the desert sand, Adam lowered himself onto his cot with his head hanging. It presented a very grizzled image with Adam’s moisture-starved hair sparking in all directions and the fine layer of sand dying his combat uniform a muted tan.

“You look beat, A-Rod.” Alvarez hadn’t even