Reboot

We took the clothes off the dead soldiers and we put them on. I hated it. Dead people aren’t really dead until they’ve disappeared. Putting on their clothes is like wearing a ghost. Our friends were chosen by their size and their ability to stay calm under pressure. William’s uniform was tight on him, but he had to come. I depended on him. Then there was me and Dutch, François, Bob and Stan. Stan was worried, but he wanted to help. He wasn’t the hero type, he said, but he could model a uniform and keep quiet. Dutch made sure everything fit as properly as could be and that all the toys were hanging off the right hooks and links. We looked convincing with the caps on. Now I thought Mabel had been worrying for nothing. We looked like a slightly pudgy, but very presentable SEAL team. Mabel went over each one of us, eyeing each one from top to bottom, made some adjustments before giving her final reluctant ok. She lingered over her husband and whispered something in his ear that made him smile.

“It’s as good as it’s ever gonna get.” She wrinkled her nose. Everyone was on the beach. There was no hugging, no goodbyes, just quiet. We were all worried. It was a gloomy sight in the near darkness.

Dutch had radioed in and said we were coming after dusk. So when the sun went down we took our places in the dinghy and took off. The Independence was five kilometers away, but this boat was fast. We’d be there in ten minutes.

Our friends waved us off sadly. They seemed cold, grabbing their elbows like someone suddenly alone in the rain. I watched them get smaller as we sped off, our dinghy beating jarringly on the small waves. The sound of the engine droning on very silently, like an electric motor. Then I turned and faced ahead. I tried not to think about what was behind us. It wasn’t just the island and my friends, it was my life I was giving up. Again. I was about to jump into a new one.

We kept our heads down, without ‘looking’ like we were keeping our heads down; all except for Dutch and we waited patiently while we bounced toward our objective. It was lonely out there. I wondered if the others felt the same as me. We stayed quiet during the entire trip.

It was already dark so we only saw the ship when we got relatively close to it. There was a bit of a fog, so it just appeared as we got near it. The USS Independence was an impressive sight. Modern, mean curves, no frills, all business. We headed towards the back. There was a landing. We moored the dinghy and looked around. There was no one there, which was odd; more than odd, dangerous. Dutch looked at all of us, clearly showing that there was something wrong, but that we had no choice. He nodded at me, then he got out first, I came out just after. We climbed up.

And as soon as I stepped on the deck, three guys came out of nowhere with guns pointed at me.

“Drop it!” one of them screamed as all three advanced aggressively. I was covered. one on each side and one in front. They had us.

So I dropped the gun I had pointed at Dutch’s back. Dutch turned around and hit me in the head. I dropped to the ground. He stood over me and growled. William jumped ahead to defend me and almost got shot. Luckily, these guys were professionals.

“Don’t hurt ’em,” said Dutch to his friends. “They have valuable information. Stick ’em in the brig, they killed the rest of the team.”

And so there I was, on the ocean again, and in jail.