Darwin

by Amanda Bridgeman

  Colt stared at them for a moment. “Yeah, something tells me you ain’t going to deal me into the next round either, huh.” She started getting up from the table again.

  “Sit the fuck down, Colt,” McKinley ordered.

  The corporal stared back at him unimpressed.

  He looked up from his cards. “Keep your panties on, corporal. We’ll deal you into the next round. I’ll be quite happy to take your chips off you.”

  Some of the men sniggered. Doc glanced at Carrie, his eyebrows raised as if to say: Did you see that? McKinley said she could stay! Colt stared at McKinley a little longer, but then slowly sat down at the table.

  They began to play the round, and before too long, Smith and Louis had folded, leaving Hunter, McKinley and Carter in the game. Hunter seemed to have the most chips, or in this case, toothpicks, obviously left over from previous games. McKinley and Carter were eyeing each other carefully. Shortly after, Carter folded, leaving McKinley and Hunter trying to stare each other out, which was difficult as they sat side by side. Eventually, they laid their cards down, and Hunter was declared the winner.

  He laughed wickedly as he scooped the toothpicks up.

  “You preppy fucker!” McKinley spat.

  Hunter laughed again. “Yeah, well, this preppy fucker just beat your juvey ass, McKinley, so suck on that!”

  “Fuckin’ goddamn Kiwis, Saffers, Aussies! Get a fuckin’ accent,” McKinley continued to sneer, while the group gathered enjoyed the banter.

  “Hey, the South African accent is the best fucking accent on the planet, mate. Don’t you fucking worry about that, eh!” Carter boasted confidently.

  McKinley stared at Carter. “I’m sorry, what? What did you just say? You sound like you got something stuck in your mouth.”

  Carrie couldn’t help it but she actually broke a smile on McKinley’s comment. Doc noticed. She jammed her lips together hard, quickly trying to bury the smile, much to Doc’s amusement.

  “I hate to love you and leave you, gentlemen,” Hunter said gathering up his toothpicks, “but I’d better relieve the flight deck.”

  “Doc, you up?” Louis asked, dealing out again.

  “Thought you’d never ask,” he beamed, taking Hunter’s spot beside McKinley, and pulling a load of toothpicks out of his shirt pocket.

  “I thought I fucking banned you from this game, Doc,” Carter said, seemingly displeased with the new player.

  “You still bitter about that?” Doc asked, gathering the cards on the table in front of him.

  “He’s still bitter,” McKinley said.

  “I fucking had it in the bag, Doc! And then you come along and in one fell swoop take the fucking lot!”

  “That’ll teach you to bet your entire stack on the one hit. It was an accident waiting to happen,” Doc shrugged.

  “Yeah, bullshit, eh! Someone cheated. Someone told you my hand,” Carter spat, looking down at his cards.

  “Whatever,” Doc said nonchalantly, studying his cards and moving a few around.

  “You playing Welles?” Smith asked her

  Carrie shook her head. “No thanks.”

  “C’mon, why not?” he asked, giving her a friendly smile.

  “Not my thing,” she shrugged.

  McKinley looked up from his cards at her, then over to Smith smiling. “That means she’s no good at it, so in order to save face she’s not going to play.”

  “Think what you want, McKinley,” she said with a bored tone.

  “Ain’t no thinking. I know it,” he smiled smugly.

  Carrie went to say something back, but saw Doc looking at her, so she bit her tongue. She watched the round in silence. Smith folded early again. Carter wasn’t far behind and clearly not pleased about it. Colt held her own against the guys, staying in the game longer than Louis and McKinley who eventually folded. So it came down to Colt versus Doc. The toothpicks kept going in. They kept staring over their cards at each other. Eventually, they laid their cards out on the table and Doc was the winner.

  “Sorry ’bout that Colt!” he said, with a satisfied smile.

  “Damn!” Colt whispered.

  “You son of a bitch, Doc!” Carter complained again. “You’re not playing cards with us. Fuck off!”

  The medic laughed, enjoying the fact that Carter was pissed. McKinley, too, had a smile on his face.

  “Nobody told me about the poker game, gentlemen!” Harris’s booming voice came over Carrie’s shoulder.

  “Captain, we were just coming to get you!” Louis lied.

  “You still losing, Carter?” Harris asked, walking up to the table.

  “Don’t you mean is Doc still fucking cheating?” he replied.

  “Give it up, man,” Doc said, shaking his head and shuffling the cards.

  “Move over.” Harris ordered Carter, Louis and Colt to move up one, then took a seat opposite McKinley.

  Carrie decided she’d watched enough cards for one evening.

  “I’m outta here,” she told the gathering, crossing paths with Packham who entered for dinner. “Kick some ass, Colt!”

  “I’ll certainly try!” Colt replied, eyes staring intently at her cards.

  *

  Harris watched Welles leave the mess hall, but not before she’d smiled a goodbye at Doc. There was something about Carter’s snowflake comment earlier that had stuck in Harris’s mind. He wanted to shut down any linkage between a male and female soldier immediately, regardless of whether it was a joke or not. Luckily, the conversation at the time had moved on, so it wasn’t a big deal, and he noticed now that although Doc smiled back at Welles, he went straight back to his cards. There’s nothing to worry about, he told himself.

  Packham took a seat at the table beside theirs, scoffing down her meal. The rest started playing the round of cards, and one by one they folded, until only Carter and Doc remained.

  “Right, Doc, you fuck,” Carter blurted out. “Game on!”

  Doc shot his goofy poker smile at Carter and winked. They stared each other out for a while, upping the ante, then finally showed their hands. Doc was again the victor.

  “FUCK!” Carter hissed, beating his hand on the table, while the others laughed.

  Colt looked at Carter like he was psychotic, “Yeah … okay,” she said. “I’ve had enough fun for one night. I’ll leave you guys to it.” And with that, she left, and Packham followed, dropping her empty plate on the counter.

  Louis leaned back in his chair and watched them walk away.

  “What are you looking at?” Smith laughed quietly at him.

  “Colt ’as a juicy ass,” Louis breathed in a husky voice.

  Harris immediately turned and glared at him. “I did not just hear that!” He looked around at the other men and saw they were all looking over at the door watching her walk out. Doc quickly darted his eyes back to Harris’s, and then down to the cards he was shuffling.

  “DID I?” Harris said again loudly to the rest of them.

  They all looked back at him.

  Louis held his hands out in innocence. “C’mon captain, it’s just looking! You put them on this ship.”

  “No, Command put them on this ship, sergeant!”

  “Still, captain,” Smith shrugged, leaning in as though he were telling him a secret, “they’re not the ugliest soldiers they could’ve given us, are they?”

  Harris gave the private a stern look.

  “Smith ’as a crush on the princess,” Louis grinned, white teeth glowing against his dark skin.

  They all looked over at Smith, while Carter laughed. “Who? Carrie the Kid?!”

  “I do not!” Smith objected.

  “I’ve seen you looking at herrrrrr!” Louis teased.

  “I have not!”

  “Well, she is good with pistols, Smith!” Carter said dryly, then both he and Louis broke into laughter. Despite their best efforts, McKinley and Doc broke smiles as well.

 
Harris sat back in his seat, glaring at them. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

  “Captain, you can’t bring women onto a ship full of men and think we’re not going to check them out?” Carter debated.

  “I think they’re your fellow soldiers and should be thought of only in that regard,” he replied firmly.

  “Please!” Carter said in a disbelieving tone.

  “I’d definitely take Colt,” Louis said nodding, then nudged Carter with his elbow. “Which one for you?”

  Harris turned his glare back to Louis.

  “Fuck, I don’t know. I prefer blonds,” Carter answered. “I’d probably go the English bird with her long legs. What say you, McKinley?”

  McKinley scoffed as though they were all beneath him.

  “I reckon he’d go Packham, too,” Smith said, eyes narrowed in study.

  McKinley gave Smith a look of displeasure.

  Carter smirked. “Nah, I reckon he’d like to show the princess a thing or two with his pistol!”

  McKinley turned his look of displeasure to Carter.

  “Are you deaf? Am I not fuckin’ sitting here?” Harris continued.

  “Doc, what is your selection?” Louis continued.

  The lieutenant looked up from the cards he was shuffling. “My selection?” he chuckled, shaking his head at Louis’s choice of words.

  “I know which one he’d prefer,” Carter said smugly, eyeing him. “Then again, lover boy here would probably fuck all three of them!” Carter and Louis started howling with laughter as Smith tried to stifle his and McKinley grinned.

  Doc glanced over at Harris, registered the look on his face and gave a half smile. “I think our game of poker is over, gentlemen!” he announced.

  “I think you’re right!” Harris said, as he stood up and snatched the pack of cards from Doc’s hands.

  “Oh, c’mon man!” Carter moaned.

  “I suggest you change your topic of conversation, gentlemen,” Harris said as he turned and headed for the door.

  “Which one do you think the captain prefers?” Louis asked quietly, drawing a giggle from Carter.

  Harris stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly to glare at Louis. The table was silent. Louis pulled an innocent face, putting his hands in the air as if to say, What? Harris saw Doc shake his head at the sergeant’s stupidity.

  Harris glared at Louis a while longer, who slowly but surely shrank into his seat, before he turned and continued for the door. As he walked off he heard McKinley warn, “Oh, you are going to pay for that one, Louis!”

  And he was right. Harris would let him stew tonight, then make him pay for that in the morning.

  *

  Carrie was in bed attempting to read a book, but struggling. Her mind kept wandering off, rehashing the day’s events, and thinking about what would happen on the Darwin when they got there. She felt as though some progress had been made with the team today, but only a little. She’d had the chance to show them what she was good at, but she’d also been forced to show them her weaknesses. She closed her book and put it beside her pillow. Tomorrow is a new day, she thought, and it will be the day I board the Darwin. That’ll be my chance —

  “Hey,” Packham greeted her softly, entering the room. She plopped herself on Colt’s bed, waiting for Colt to finish in the bathroom.

  “How was your day on the flight deck, sergeant?” Carrie asked.

  “Interesting,” she nodded, shooting her a look of intrigue.

  “Oh, yeah! So, what was with that mysterious comms signal?” Carrie suddenly felt a little more alert.

  Packham shook her head. “We don’t know. It looks like it was from them, but we lost it and there’s been no other trace of it. The UNF still can’t get a hold of the station, so we’re continuing as planned.”

  Carrie nodded, thinking it over, then proceeded to get the lowdown from Packham of her day on the flight deck. They still wouldn’t let her touch anything, but apparently Hunter had opened up a little, so she managed to get a conversation out of him.

  “He’s not so bad,” Packham shrugged.

  Colt emerged from the bathroom. “Sergeant Packham,” she exclaimed. “You survived flight deck, I see.”

  Packham smiled, then turned back to Carrie. “How’d you go with McKinley today?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have heard about the confrontation in the gym!” Colt jumped in excitedly.

  “Yeah, I did.” She nodded, smiling.

  “Who told you?” Colt and Carrie asked at the same time.

  “McKinley came up to the flight deck, and he and Hunter sat up the back talking about what went on. I think they’re buddies. They were talking low, but I could still hear.”

  “So what’d McKinley say?” Carrie’s interest sparked.

  “He said something about you and him having words but that Doc stepped in, and that you girls were useless on the mats.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Carrie started to seethe. “Did he tell Hunter about me outshooting him on the range?”

  “He said you were alright on the range.”

  “Hmph. Half the story then!” Carrie muttered.

  “It’s okay, though, ’cause later Smith came in and he gave a different version of you on the range. I believe he used the word, smokin’,” Packham grinned.

  “Ha!” Carrie laughed, feeling a little vindicated. “What’d Hunter say to that?”

  “He just said, ‘That’s not what Arizona told me’. Apparently that’s McKinley’s nickname. Anyway, Smith just said, ‘Yeah, that’s ’cause Arizona got his ass whipped!’. Hunter just blew it off and said, ‘No-one beats Arizona. I’ll believe it when I see it.’”

  Carrie rolled her eyes as Packham chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom.

  “McKinley’s such an asshole,” Carrie said still seething over his comments. “I would love to smack him in the mouth.”

  Colt glanced at her as she pulled back the sheets on her bed. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

  Carrie lay there staring at the bunk overhead, literally fantasizing about punching him. Colt obviously noticed this.

  “Welles, just let it go,” she said, climbing into bed. “There’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Yeah, there is. I will prove to him that I’m every bit as good as he is.”

  “But you’re not going to be as good as he is in some things. It’s called life,” Colt said staring at her. “Just be good at what you’re good at, and let him be good at what he’s good at. It’s not a merry-go-round, it’s a seesaw.”

  Carrie looked over at her, confused.

  Colt rolled herself over and hiked herself up on her elbow. “He’s a guy, Welles, and a big one at that. So he can fight better than you; so he can lift heavier shit than you. So what? Let him. There are certain things that they are always going to do better than us. You just need to sit back and when the time comes, step up and do what you can do better than him. Like with your shooting. That’s what I did,” she shrugged, “when I was stationed in East Africa and they got wind of some major terrorist plan to bomb the UNF HQ there. They looked into it, discovered the threat was a reality, and my team got sent to defuse the bomb. It was a massive job. The terrorists had rigged up this big fucker across four city blocks. The only problem was that the receiver for this whole thing was planted down a tiny drain. My team couldn’t tear the drain open in case it set it off, and none of the men could fit their hands down there. So they looked to me.

  “Now up until then, they didn’t let me do shit, but because I had smaller hands than them, they had no choice. So I put my hands in the hole and I defused the son of a bitch. It wasn’t easy, it took several hours, but I did it. I did it, and they sat there wiping my brow for once! I defused that bitch and saved their asses and they knew it. So, do I care that they’re bigger and stronger? Hell, no! Let them lift the heavy shit, let them fight the big guys, I ain’t trying to match them. ’Cause I know
that there’s always going to be a time when there is something that they can’t do, and they will look to me to do it for them. What goes around comes around, Welles. There’ll be a day when they call on you to do what they can’t do. Just like on your Santos mission. Ain’t no-one denying that you kicked ass on that one.”

  Carrie lay there thinking over Colt’s words.

  Colt, sensing no rebuttal, snuggled down into her bed, rubbed her face and yawned. “I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.”

  “’Night,” Carrie said softly as she reached up and touched her lamp off too. Deep down she knew Colt was right, but she also knew she had a stubbornness within that was going to be hard to shift. She wanted to be as good as the men, in everything they did. It was like some kind of mental block that prevented her from seeing sense. And the truth was, she didn’t like to admit defeat either.

  She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Just focus on the Darwin. Tomorrow will be the day. You will board that station, and you will show them what you can do!

  9

  War Games

  Harris was leading the team on the morning run. It was no surprise that after a few laps, Doc and Hunter were right behind him. They were the fittest of his soldiers; all-rounders who generally did well at everything. McKinley and Carter were not far behind them, which was also par for the course. Their fitness was pretty good, but what really kept them up there was their basic all-round toughness, their sheer resilience and never-give-in attitude. What Harris was still getting used to, however, was that Welles was sticking with them. She was fit and determined, he had to give her that.

  The rest of the team were bunched in a group just off the pace. As he passed each member he eyed them as he did with every run. Doc and Hunter ran side by side, almost step for step, a mirror image of the other. McKinley always looked focused, serious, as though he were running toward the enemy, while Carter looked a little bored, like he was simply carrying out a chore that had to be done. Brown’s scowl indicated he would rip someone’s head off for the chance to stop running. Louis, on the other hand, ran like he was dancing to some music in his head, pumping his arms and blowing out rhythmic breaths. Smith always looked to be on the same wavelength as Brown, like he was begging to hit that finish line.