Page 96 of Brighter Shades of Light
For the past four days, we had been out in the wilderness, hiking and battling the opposing platoon of ‘enemies.’ But now we had a new objective: travel to the marked location on the map and lead the platoon in a daylight ambush patrol.
The snow wasstillcoming down. The blinding white would make this exercise even harder, giving us few places to hide and showing our tracks. It was also freezing-ass cold.
Our success for the mission all depended on Tristen’s ability to lead us. We were allowed to assist him, of course, and discuss best plans of action, but it was ultimately up to him as our leader.
After we packed up our gear, we headed out. Navigation was hard in the snow. It was easy to get turned around and lose track of our position. Hours passed as we hiked toward the location. We took a wrong turn once and went off course, but we soon got back on track. When we finally arrived, Tristen halted us and we squatted down, trying to conceal ourselves as best as we could in the trees.
A path was up ahead, not far from where we were hidden. The enemy force was somewhere around us. We couldn’t see them, but it was quiet. Too quiet. I had a gut feeling that something was off. The snow had stopped falling, at least.
“Listen up,” Tristen said, turning to face us. “I believe they’re using this trail to operate. We’re going to split up into two groups. One group will go around and camp out at the far left, watching for them. The others will stay here and watch. That way, we’ll be able to ambush from two directions.”
He sounded confident, but I saw the uneasy gleam in his eyes.
Ever since his panic attack during the paintball match last year, he hadn’t had another episode. We had completed several patrols together and ambushed groups with our assigned fire team, and he had been fine. Nerves were normal. I just hoped he was able to pull himself together.
Tristen held out his hand, preparing to give the signal.
“Wait,” I said.
He turned back. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Just something doesn’t feel right.”
The flank maneuver was a common technique for this kind of ambush. Other groups had done the same in months past. But what if that was the test? They expected us to use this technique, so they might have a plan in place to defend against it.
“I can do this, Miller.” Tristen’s sharp tone was unexpected. “I’m the billet of this unit right now, and I don’t need you questioning my orders. Got it?”
My jaw went slack. “Yes, sir.”
I knew his defensiveness came from being questioned in front of the platoon. He didn’t want them to think he was a weak leader. I understood that. And maybe I was an asshole for doing so, but still. My gut told me we were about to be in some deep shit.
Tristen gave the signal, and the first group left the coverage area and advanced farther into the woods to take position on the other side. It was so quiet you could hear their boots crunching in the snow. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt like we were being watched. The hair on my nape stood on end, and nerves coiled in the pit of my stomach.
I held my rifle, focusing on the task at hand. Each breath was measured as I stared at the path ahead. This might be an exercise, but it would be real someday.
A half hour passed with no movement.
“Do you hear that?” I asked Tristen.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly.”
Three men appeared on the path. They were from the opposing team, walking almost at a leisurely stroll. Tristen gave the signal, and we got into position. That strange feeling wouldn’t let up on me. Why were there only three?
Right before Tristen sprang the ambush, gunfire sounded from behind us.
A trap.
While our focus had been on the men on the trail, the rest of the enemy force had surrounded us from behind.
I jumped up and shot at one person before ducking out of the way from another. Pops from rifles and the blaze from machine guns erupted in the snowy woods, cutting through the quiet. Even though they were blanks, they still sounded like real bullets and could still be dangerous if shot too close to the body.
There were too many enemies closing in on us, and with Tristen separating our battalion, we were outnumbered.
Tristen fucking froze. He stared at the men rushing us and looked so much like he did last year when I carried him away from the paintball match.
“Come on!” I shouted, raising my rifle and firing off a few shots.
