Alleyway Chronicle Excerpt- Hell of Vietnam

BEFORE YOU READ: This takes place in the war at vietnam in the 60s/70s. Mark Red and Mark Redd are two different people, and both are best friends. Robert taught them about how to cope in war. This is just a cliff-hanger excerpt. I strongly reccomend listening to My Chemical Romance's "Ghost of You" while reading this. use this link for the song if u dont own it: http://youtube.com/watch?v=7sJqEccwliQ
I had to add and take a bit to make it make a little more sense, since its coming out of context. Thanks!1

***2


Mark didn’t understand what was going on. People ran by him, tripping over the bodies of their fallen companions. Loud explosions, screams, shouts, orders. It was hell, this really was hell unleashing in Vietnam. His sweaty fingers tightened on his gun, the blood from his knuckles streaming down his wrist. The gunfire sounded like boulders smashing against glass walls. Dirt was kicked up by the soldiers’ boots, getting in Mark’s eyes. He thought about Jamey’s words, “You are never coming home!” But this was the first time it really dawned on him. He always thought that there was a chance; I guess everyone knew except me. The sand exploded next to him, a tiny deadly bullet burrowing into the earth. Mark closed his eyes and shot. It was a dumb idea not to be looking; he could hit someone on their side, but he didn’t want to know if he got anyone. He didn’t want to kill.3

“Mark, what are you doing!?” Mark Red shouted above the terrible noise. Mark turned to him, tears streaming down his face. “Come on buddy, back up, will ya? It’s suicide staying up here.” Mark Redd and Mark Red darted back a little further into the brush. Robert ran by them. Whoomch! 4

“What the--” A huge flying ball sped past their ears and further into the forest. Robert turned his head towards the sound, but it was too late. He was propelled backwards, hitting his head on a tree, and crumpling into the ground. “NO!” Mark screamed. Without thinking, he ran to Robert’s side, followed by the other Mark. Robert’s helmet was a few feet away, next to another dead body they recognized as Bennet. Rob’s face was twisted with pain and struggle. Never in a million years would Mark be able to describe what the poor guy looked like at that moment. It was too nauseating, too gruesome, and too sad. Red looked behind him nervously as bullets hit the sand, too close for comfort. “Mark, come on buddy,” he urged out of the corner of his mouth. “He’s gone, accept it!”5

He didn’t. He picked Rob up and swung him over his shoulder.6

“Mark, there’s now way that you can carry him all the way out!” But Mark ignored him. They trudged clumsily through chaos, Redd carrying Robert, Red firing behind him at their hidden enemies. There was a bang and a disgusting cracking sound. Red swung around and caught Mark before he could fall completely over. Mark felt the bullet in his arm, the hot little demon. He could not carry Robert with one arm, he just couldn’t. It didn’t matter, Rob was dead now. He died while Mark was carrying him. 7

“Are you okay?”8

“I’m fine. Come on,” Mark growled, running back into the heat of battle. Red shouted at him for a moment, then rolled his eyes and followed. The two fought as hard as they could, but both were losing a lot of energy, and blood. 9

“GET BACK MEN, GET BACK!” the general commanded. Mark didn’t check to see if his friend had heard, assuming he did. He ran back to the camp with the others. But the general remained with the lieutenant on the high spot for shouting orders. 10

“MARK, GET OUT OF THERE!” the general bellowed.11

“Which Mark is that?” the lieutenant asked.12

“I can’t tell from here, I just know its one of those Marks. MARK, GET OUT! THAT’S AN ORDER!”13

“What’s he doing? General, I don’t think he can hear you…”14

“MARK!!!”15

“General, we have to leave. If he can’t hear you, he’s a goner. Come on….”16

“MARK! GET OUT NOW! THEY’RE ABOUT TO FIRE A BOMB, GET OUT OF THERE!”17

“We need to go!”18

The general made one last glance at the boy, not even out of his teenage years, about to be killed. Grudgingly, he followed the lieutenant away. Only when he got back to the camp would he know which Mark had stayed behind. Only a few seconds after the two men emerged from the forest, it exploded with a merciless, terrible blast. The general’s heart felt like it had ripped in half as he thought about the young man, not much more than a boy. But which Mark was dead?19

“I think I know which one,” the lieutenant said glumly, “I’ll tell Mark Red's family when I get home in a few days.”