Box Jellyfish Wars - Chapter 1

Box Jellyfish Wars1

Chapter 1.2

I ran towards the fight. There, a trench. Quick. dive. Gun shots sounded around me. I didn’t know what I was fighting for, but I was fighting. That’s what mattered. The sound was deafening. As I reloaded I found myself wondering why I shouldn’t just lye down and play dead. It was the same thought I’d had as a young girl, watching movies of atrocious wars. Why not just play dead? Everything was happening in slow-mo, like it wasn’t real. Men cried out as they were shot down beside me. They jerked as bullets riddled their bodies. I just shoved myself up against the wall of the trench, clinging my gun to my chest. A look around told me they were all dead. Well, nearly. What was I doing here? I wasn’t meant to be part of this fight. My mission was yet to come.3

Lie down, my brain told me. Act dead. Do it. I could feel my body moving, surging from the trench. It was traitorous. Run. Run. Quick. Bullets whizzed by me. My body moved smoothly, calmly, as if it was a totally different entity, while my eyes darted frantically for a place to hide. Somewhere safe. There. I dove. A large fallen tree was my new hidey-hole. 4

Stupid! my brain was telling me. Stupid! Just play dead! A mine went off a few feet from me. The sound was stunning. I was helpless, my ears ringing, my eyes streaming tears. A leg landed a foot from my head, mangled, despairing. The smell, tangy, almost like copper, contaminated my senses. It was all I could think about; that and ‘just play dead’. And that’s what I did. As men and women screamed all around me, dying, cursing and being plain blown apart, I dragged myself further into the foliage of the fallen tree. Hiding. Eyes closed, my ears were bombarded with sound. The tap tap tap of a machine gun. The whiz then bam of grenades and mines. And the screams. Screeches. Curses. Torturous cries of dying humans. Most of them like me; not knowing just what they were fighting for but doing their best to survive anyway. 5

I woke with a start, the pungent smell of blood drenching my nostrils. My eyes flitted frenetically searching for light in the late dusk. I looked up through the leaves of the tree which had been my sanctuary. Listening, I barely heard the firing of guns way off in the distance. They’ve gone. They’ve missed me and moved on. Wow. For a split second my heart soared up, up to the heavens. As I crawled as softly as I could from my refuge I felt it plummet straight back down to earth. Bodies were strewn haphazardly around me, draped over rocks and logs, some hanging half out of trenches. All mutilated, maimed, some disfigured past all recognition. All these people. Women. Men. They had all died fighting as I had slithered into the undergrowth and played dead. Traitorous brain. Look where you’ve got me now. 6

The next few hours were a blur. I tripped my way as silently as I possibly could through the bush, diving to the ground at every crackle of bark. I had to get back to head quarters. It was now that the fear gripped me tightest. Like a hawk it clutched me in its talons. The dark of night swarmed everything. Not daring to use my torch I could hardly see where I was going. The wind played tricks with my ears. One second the far off fighting was in the distance, next it was only a few hundred meters away. I found myself hating everything. The war, my captain, the army. I hated the war especially. But then again, that was my job. I did what I was meant to do. 7

Something yanked at my leg and I was abruptly pulled to the ground. A hand wrapped over my mouth, preventing the scream which would have followed. A man’s face came into my view. He held a finger to his mouth. I nodded and slowly the hand was taken away from my mouth. My eyes zoomed straight to his American badge. I knew his had taken in my Australian one. 8

“Follow us,” he murmured. 9

We were off, dashing through the bush. I was following the man. Two more followed behind me. We were lucky that we were in Camo. Our flight through the bush was oddly calming. It was weird because I’m a loner. I stand on my own to feet. Nearly all my missions involve just me.  Apart from the soft put put put of machine guns far away and the tension of my three new comrades there was little to differentiate this scuttle from a childhood bush-romp. The hours waned on and slowly the sounds of the machine guns grew almost inaudible. We stopped briefly every once and a while to catch our breath. I was lucky that I had been fit before I was drafted to this stupid war. I would have never had kept up with the soldiers else-wise.  The American in front of me dropped to the ground. I was pulled into a bunker, well hidden, innate. The door shut heavily behind us. 10

A dull neon light flickered on and the barren racks of a store bunker were illuminated. The American took a swig from his water flask and handed it to me; I had lost my own at some point in time. 11

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was firm. He sounded like someone who was used to being answered. 12

I took a gulp of water and corked the flask. Stand at attention, my brain told me and I did so.  Lie, was its next command. “I am Sandy Parker of the Second Australian Infantry Squadron, Sir.”13

“Right. You’re no regular infantryman. Who are you?”14

I told you not to lie, my brain went on to tell me. What? I protested. Tell him the truth. “Sandy Parker of the Australian First Militia Squadron, Sir.”15

“That’s more like it. No draft soldier runs like you do. What were you doing?”16

“Who are you?” I fired back. Answer question with question. It was an old lesson. 17

I could hear the too men behind me shift. 18

“At ease,” the man murmured to his men. “I am Captain William Rickins of the American First Squadron.”19

A captain, eh? Still, I am not an American soldier he has no authority over me. “Ah, the famed First Squadron,” I said. “Supposedly the finest fighters in the western world. You’ll forgive me if I don’t salute.” I knew I was treading on dangerous soil but I’d rather be doing the treading than be trodden on. Once again I could feel the two soldiers behind me shift anxiously.20

“Of course. The Australia First Militia Squadron is known world-wide for its rebellious, somewhat undisciplined nature. What were you doing?”21

“I was on a mission,” I said. I’d be damned if I would tell him the details.22

“Why were you the only one left? We came in too late. The fight was over. We checked the dead. Where were you?”23

“I was the only one left because that is my job. I was hidden. That, Sir, is also my job.”24

William raised an eyebrow. One on his men behind me spoke, “Surely she is not the one, Sir.”25

“It appears that she is,” William replied. 26

“I’m what?” 27

The two men finally came into view to stand beside William.28

“Sandy this is Sergeant Kile Hicks and Sax Withersbury, both of the American First squadron,” William said.29

I took them in. Kile was a dark man, barrel chested and incredibly buffed. He towered over both William and Sax. Strong and silent, my brain told me. Yeah, I agreed. Sax on the other hand was a lanky youth with broad shoulders and wiry muscles. A tattoo of some sort drifted down his neck and under his collar. William was the shortest of the three, but built like a footballer. His square chin and set face commanded respect; something I wouldn’t give to him until he earned it.30

“Nice to meet you guys but I’d best be off,” I said. “You know, places to be, people to kill, all that messy business.” I turned to go.31

“Bird sits on a post,” William said.32

Turning on my heel I raised an eyebrow. 33

“I shot it down,” I replied. Strange, my brain told me. Why does he know the catch words?34

“Really? It lives.”35

I ground my teeth together. This man knew my catch words. “And will keep on fighting,” I finished. “So,” I sighed, “what do you want?”36

“We are your new partners.”37

“No way,” I replied with a glare. “I ride solo.”38

“We have orders to find you and help you in all future missions until such a time as we are not needed,” William said.39

“Then you are dismissed. You are not needed.” I could feel the tension between us rippling through the air.40

William put his hand inside his jacket. Draw! my brain commanded. Instantaneously I pulled two guns from their sockets, both aimed at the Captain’s head. Four guns, two each from Sax and Kile were aimed at my own. After several apprehensive seconds the Captain pulled an envelope from his jacket. 41

“Settle,” he said. His men relaxed their grip and re-sheathed their weapons. I did the same. “It’s for you.”42

I took the envelope. It was indeed addressed to ‘Box Jellyfish’; my code name. I studied the envelope for any hidden clues then ripped it open. Inside was a letter. It was in code. Short. Precise. My eyes scanned it, reading the code as if it were letters; that’s all it was for me. It was orders for both me and the men standing before me. 43

‘Boxer,44

Cease you current mission I have a matter of greatest importance for you. We have intercepted intelligence that the enemy force in Sector 3506 is ready to be deployed. They are a specialised force and are predicted to be very formidable. Your mission: get in there and delay their advance. Trash the place, do something, what that something is I leave up to you.  I cannot disclose more detail in this letter but the success of this mission is imperative. You need these men. Be careful though, they have been hand picked for their suitability for this mission and as thus they are more rebellious than most. They are highly dangerous. The American position in this war is essential but we still have some doubts of their allegiance.45

All luck and speed to you,46

Croc.’47

After memorizing its contents I folded it back up. "Lighters are good like that," I said as I lit a lighter underneath it. I held the burning letter until the heat was too close then dropped it, still burning, to the floor. The captain looked at me. For a moment there was no way of reading his face then a small, amused smile spread over his face. 48

"So," he said, "are we under your command now then?"49

If I hadn't have been standing straight already I would have stood a bit straighter. "Yeah, something like that," I replied.50

The captain was slow to salute. His soldiers rushed to salute moments after he did. I could see that they were still going to be firmly his men. Making them follow me was going to be an ordeal. That instant I knew that it was best to have the captain on my side and alive. Most importantly alive. If he wasn't alive I knew they wouldn't follow me. "Right," I said. "I don't suppose you guys were sent with maps as well?"51

"Of course, Ma'am," William said. He started to get them out of his pack.52

"Wait, none of that. I don't want to be called Ma'am, or Sir, or Captain. It's Boxer. Call me Boxer." No doubt they already knew what my code name was.53

William nodded understanding. "Box Jellyfish, Boxer."54

"That's right. Now where are those maps?"55

As we poured over the maps that head quarters had supplied I knew that I was going to have a fight on my hands... not only against the enemy, but with my own men. This is going to be interesting, my brain told me. Yeah, I replied, it is.56