“Dude, it’s ok. No one would have blamed you even if you’d kept wailing on that guy until he really was doneski. It happens. Playing to the crowd like that, not to mention cheating… someone else would’ve taught him a lesson eventually if you hadn’t done it.”
John rolled over onto his side as if showing his back to his brother as well as positioning himself into the bed’s perfect depression.
“Night, bro,” John said coldly.
Moto could tell there was no use pressing him any further, and began to rustle around uncomfortably in his bed, shaking the top bunk noticeably.
“What the hell are you doing down there?” John barked.
“It’s hot, dude,” Moto grinned to himself. “I’m goin’ sans pants.”
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
The familiar blaring of reveille jolted John and Moto back into consciousness. John stuffed his face into the mattress and pulled the pillow over his head, convincing himself that he had enough time to rest a bit longer.
Moto released a long groan of displeasure and mumbled in a raspy voice, “When I go AWOL, I swear it’s going to be because that stupid trumpet finally broke me.” The cold, morning air quickly made him regret his decision to sleep in the nude. “Why do they have to wake us up at the butt crack of dawn when there’s not even anything for us to do?” he whined.
John noticed that several of their squad members had still not returned from the previous night out. Many of them would come running up the hill several minutes late, still buckling their belts with shoelaces flying free. John had almost fallen back into slumber when Andrew came flying into the bunkhouse from his early morning jog. John forced himself awake and glanced down at the remaining blood streaks on his stomach. He realized that he couldn’t enjoy the luxury of stalling until the last possible moment as he and Garrett usually did; waiting until the absolute last minute to emerge from their bunks. He climbed out to begin his morning routine, but John didn’t intend to suffer alone. After his feet had clumsily found their way to the bottom of the ladder, John yanked the covers from Moto’s bed so hard that they flew to the tent’s opposite wall.
The culture of the overseas U.S. military had changed drastically as more and more time lapsed with the U.S. troops being stationed abroad. Unlike previous wars, World War 3 had America and its allies at a heavy numerical disadvantage, leaving any and all able-bodied young men stuck overseas for unreasonable stints of service.
Though there had been numerous early warning signs, no country intervened as China cultivated the most dominant military force in modern history. Rumors about the inhumane tactics that the Chinese had adopted to grow their forces were a common topic of conversation in coffee shops across the states.
China’s previous policies on limiting the number of children per household, coupled with technological advances allowing parents to choose the gender of their children, had resulted in a significant imbalance between sexes. Females in China made up an estimated 20% of the overall population, with the majority of them now being over the age of 40.
In the years leading up to the war, the anti-bullying sentiment of the West evolved into an all-out anti-violence movement which Americans had accepted as an obvious step in leading the way to a better world. That way of thinking eventually grew into an overwhelming anti-military sentiment, resulting in a popular trend of decreased funding for all militaristic endeavors. Politicians gave in to tremendous pressure to not only halt all advancements in technology that could in some way result in massive losses of life, but also to do away with almost all such technology which had already been created. Politicians with more than a shred of ambition quickly adopted the policy as one of their main platforms after polls consistently reflected what an easy sell it would be to the self-proclaimed civilized nations. A promise of decreased spending and a balanced national budget, even while lowering taxes, seemed almost too good to be true. The show of good faith toward the rest of the world meant more money in a voter’s pocket while still being able to feel as if they’d contributed to the greater good. The U.S. withheld much of its arsenal for a time but eventually matched the sacrifices of other world powers as they joined the cause.
During that same span, it was rumored that China had mandated the comparatively few remaining young women into conceiving at least once every three years. The political cartoons that depicted the Chinese women as militarized cattle were found to be little more than slightly humorous in the States, and raised no concerns. Though many of the rumors were a gross exaggeration, there were well-documented incentives for the Chinese women to conceive. Many of the young women didn’t oppose the policies at all, and commonly embraced the opportunity. Most considered their sacrifice to be a service to their country and willingly prostituted their bodies beginning at a young age.
The Chinese didn’t initially intend to take advantage of the world’s collective attempt at peace. Apologists would later argue that they had little other choice. With a significant decrease in their spending toward military research and development, China had been on board for a better world. It didn’t take long, though, for Chinese leadership to realize that sacrificing many of the jobs in the industry of which they’d become pioneers was going to result in a lasting blow to their economy.
China didn’t quickly give up on the cause, but the world power eventually slid into near insignificance, even as its population swelled beyond measure. The end result, after some ill-advised decisions by some opportunistic neighboring countries, was an overnight resurgence in the Chinese economy.
The obvious solution for having too many young men eventually became apparent. There had been plenty of examples throughout history showing a struggling China how to rapidly grow their economy and return their factories to capacity production. Soon, the plethora of men would be put to good use. The derelict factories were utilized to their fullest potential again as workers began mass production of rifles, Jeeps, and all the other goods that the rest of the world had cumulatively cut spending toward. By the time anyone took notice of what was occurring, it was China’s own de-Hollywoodized version of the clone wars.
The numbers for the Chinese military were historic and images of their soldiers training in formation terrorized the free world. The pictures and videos that had leaked into the media were claimed as fakes at first. Seas of people executed precise drills in near perfect unison. The only perceivable flaw was in the wave caused by the slight delay it took for the sounds to reach those who were farthest from the speakers. Each stomp of a boot and slap against a rifle sent ripples of fear throughout the peace-loving world.
It was an uphill battle for everyone in opposition to the world’s largest military force. Decade-old technologies and boots to dirt with rifles in hands was all it took for the neighboring countries to be quickly absorbed into the new China. The first to go was Mongolia. The actual fighting was brief and, though the sudden attack was more than a blip on the worldwide radar, most of the world’s reaction was to simply begin talks of diplomacy. The aversion and avoidance of needless killings and violence that the Chinese demonstrated during their advance was largely applauded, and many considered it a victory that the world had avoided the use of outdated tactics and hellacious devastation as its first option.
Soon after, though, the borders of China began to creep south through Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam. Despite repeated promises of peace by the President of the People’s Republic of China, the newly infamous war hero known as Hung Ju-long grew in both power and title as he expertly swept through country after country. Rumors began to swirl that the Chinese president had become nothing more than a figurehead. The world’s concern grew as the Chinese territory continued to swell, but with the U.N. no longer in place, the opposition of each singular victim was all the antagonistic country had to overcome. With each passing victory, the next country in line would face even more insurmountable odds. Hung Ju-long drew heavily from the tactics of Nazi Germany and found much success in the met
hods. It wasn’t until the country’s expansion reached the 38th parallel that the free world’s voters began to take full notice.
Upon crossing the South Korean border, the Chinese army was surprised to encounter a largely American opposition. The U.S. troops stationed at the border were originally intended to help intimidate North Korea into participating in the world’s peace movement. After the successful Chinese aggressions, South Korean officials were nervous that North Korea may follow a similar model and strike while South Korea’s own military had willingly weakened. The United States answered their plea, and doubled the American presence in an attempt to deter any threat. It wasn’t until the Chinese had plowed through the thousands of American citizens with seemingly little effort that the threat began to demand the world’s attention.
Months of mass recruitment and propaganda littering the landscapes had gone unanswered until the plea for volunteers transitioned into an all-out draft after the massacre. Families were being pulled into the war in a more immediate and intimate way than they had ever feared.
Almost overnight, news channels began to cover the secretive practices of China who, over recent years, had slowly cut off almost all outside trade. Other countries no longer held power in the form of threats to cut off fuel, food, or any other Chinese imports. China had grown strategically self-sufficient, and it was now obvious why.
Despite the sudden, overwhelming media interest, China was still able to enshroud their practices from the public’s eye. No one knew what they were capable of or how far they were planning to go. Any troops that the Chinese lost in battle were more than replaced by the absorbance of the survivors from the overtaken countries. As it was in Nazi Germany, the new recruits were only able to protect their loved ones by holding firm to the ideals of the new authority and by ratting out any neighbor who was unwilling to do so.
Though they were met with more opposition at the obvious borders, the Chinese attacks did not slow. When resistance swelled against them in Russia, a sudden influx of Chinese troops would instead arrive in Cuba. When attention was diverted to Northeast Africa, Hung Ju-long would instead infiltrate the borders of South America.
Soon, the world began to take necessary steps to stop China’s seemingly infinite army. The rest of the world had not yet forgotten how fortunate they’d been to survive the Nazis of World War II, and countries were quick to ally in opposition of the growing Chinese threat. For the first time, in fact, there was no neutral country. As more and more countries jumped on board and began drafting men into service, the few remaining holdouts were guilted into action. No one wanted to be burdened with the albatross that they would undoubtedly carry throughout history if they were to try and spare their own young men.
Those who had just recently unified in peace were now joined together to defend that same cause by a willingness to engage in tremendous violence. The Chinese forces were so transcendent that the rest of the world could not afford to have anyone sit idly by. Never before had such a power been achieved, and never before had a line been so perfectly drawn across the globe, dividing its adversaries.
Many historians had been teaching for decades that there was an inevitable war, plague, or starvation looming that the world would soon have to endure. More people were currently living in the world than had ever lived and died before them. The sustainability of the earth’s resources had long ago been surpassed. The question of when and how the earth’s population would be brought back down was seemingly very close to being answered.
And so, once the entire world had been prepped for battle, the talks of diplomacy grew more effective. No one wanted to witness the greatest loss of life in the history of the world, but all were prepared for it. Both sides knew that, if the negotiations soured, the unavoidable consequences would echo throughout history. And so, they waited.
After months of fruitless mediation, officers struggled to keep morale up for their troops who found themselves stationed indefinitely on the other side of the world. The former teachers and students were stuck waiting--waiting and knowing that their fate lay in the hands of the rich men who spent their days behind a desk and slept comfortably in their own beds each night.
At this point, commanding officers didn’t even enforce the usual protocol. Soldiers were free to wander aimlessly, and pass the time in whatever manner they chose, so long as they showed up to the few remaining head counts. As the living conditions and available food diminished, so too did the frequency of inspections and visits from supervisors. Service, though involuntary, was considered by many to be an easy paycheck for simply keeping one’s nose out of trouble. Everyone knew how stagnant the negotiation talks had become but also knew that neither side wanted to fire the shot that signified the end of the world. As a result, the cultures at the front lines across the globe were slowly blurred, and the world that had been in utter turmoil sat in comfortable disarray.
It was now a common occurrence for the opposing sides to cross paths at popular night spots and commiserate. The undercurrents of hatred and racism would oftentimes boil over at the local bars, and the resulting brawls were eventually organized into a profitable, underground business.
John and Moto had quickly discovered the ripe opportunity in their new Puerto Rican home and had gained a stronghold on the untapped market to multiply their checks with the help of their former accountant friend, Marty.
After the morning’s assembly, the brothers spent this morning the way they spent almost every morning following a successful fight. The two had hung hammocks tucked a couple of hills away from their encampment, a perfect spot for recovering from the previous night. They had established a nice little bricolage of forgotten logs far enough from the garrison to avoid getting volunteered into some tedious chore a superior had dreamed up.
“This is actually kind of a sweet deal, John, living off Uncle Sam’s dime, chilling every day, drinking and fighting every night. It’s like college, but free.”
“Yeah, I guess it could be worse,” John said as he rubbed his swollen knuckles. “I’ll be sure and remind you tomorrow morning when you start bitching about the bugle again. I’m just glad we didn’t get stuck in the Middle East.”
“Yeah, yeah. Oh, hey, I almost forgot, I’ve got a good one for you!” Moto said.
“Oh please no,” John sighed. “We were having such a good morning.”
“Trust me, you’ll be repeating this to one to everybody,” Moto spun around upside down with the edges of the hammock clung tightly to his chest so that he wouldn’t fall out as he faced the ground. He groaned as he concentrated on maintaining his balance while lowering his zipper to relieve himself, and he began. “Okay. If quizzes are quizzical, then imagine how my testicles feel.”
“One day soon, you’re gonna belly flop into your own piss if you won’t just stand up and pee like a normal guy; and you slaughtered that joke, by the way,” John said as he waved over his acting agent, Marty.
Marty’s shoulders sagged heavily as he ducked tree branches while navigating down the heavily-traveled path.
“No, no. Wait I’ve got it. If tests are testicle, then what about my balls?” Moto laughed.
“You’re done,” John said. “You’ve really got to start thinking these through before you open your mouth.”
Moto zipped up his pants and turned his hammock right-side up before silently mouthing the beginning of his joke with a puzzled countenance.
“Your pockets look a little light, Marty,” John started. “Just turn around and come back after you’ve got it.”
“Listen…” Marty started before being interrupted.
“No good sentence ever starts with ‘Listen’. If I’ve ever earned an honest day’s pay, my nose is telling me it was last night. The only thing that will make this crooked schnoz of mine feel any better is to catch a stiff whiff of my cut of the cash. So how about you go and do what I pay you to do?”
Marty avoided eye contact as he worked his way over to John’s hammock. “John
, they’re not paying. Apparently, the guy you buried in the sand last night has friends in high places, and he still hasn’t come to. They said to tell you that they’re using your winnings to pay for his hospital expenses.”
John was no longer kicked back in his hammock, soaking up the sun. “Are you serious? If they don’t want their guys being hospitalized, maybe they should find a fighter that’s on my level. It’s insulting, some of the kids they put me up against out there.”
“So what are you going to do?” Marty asked.
“Well, I guess I’m gonna have to do your job. I’m gonna find whichever ass has my money, and do whatever I hafta do to get it.”
John cussed under his breath while he fought to balance in his hammock and lace up his boots. Moto, anticipating his brother’s need for backup, quickly followed suit and began to throw on his gear.
“Where are you going, John? What could you possibly accomplish right now by doing this? You know no one goes over there in the middle of the day,” Marty called out. “I’m pretty sure whoever is in charge is not gonna be an Ally.”
It was too late. John was already upright and navigating the narrow forest trail as he set off with Moto straggling behind.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
“The Pit” was little more than the basement of a large, dilapidated wooden building that had been rejuvenated with the sudden rise in the local male population carrying wads of cash that burned at their pockets. The building appeared to have been built ages ago, and it was apparent that the original function of the structure was something very different from what it had recently become.
Posted all over the exterior of the building were Chinese propaganda posters, hinting at the already obvious fact that this region wasn’t exactly friendly territory to the American ideals. John and Moto always knew that they were entering enemy territory when they made the trek over for a night out, but today was their first time to visit prior to sundown. That fact and the glaring absence of other Americans made the establishment seem significantly less welcoming on this day. The posters included text in Chinese as well as Spanish for the local population, but it added no understanding for the Chow brothers. The familiar face of Hung Ju-long was being depicted as the savior of a needy people. The fact that his face was the one being plastered across the globe indicated that there might be some truth behind the rumors that he’d usurped the president’s power, though he had allowed the president to keep the official title.
And the Blood Ran Black Page 2
