Fallen Heroes

They had no idea where they were. They had been in similar situations, being in the army does that to you. Being in Baghdad, they had come prepared for that. They had come prepared for bullets and bombs going off. They had even come prepared for dying – at least that's what they told everyone. When the bomb went off, however, it was a completely different story.

The sound of the explosion was still ringing in his head when Marcellus woke up. He looked around, unable to hear anything that was going on. He saw bodies and blood and guts splattered all around the street. The fronts of the shops that lined the road had crumbled to dust. As he watched, a roof of one of the shops fell through. Marcellus felt himself coughing, but he couldn't hear it. He waited for the odd ringing in his ears to subside, so he could accurately know just what was going on. By the look of it, the bomb had been very powerful. Also by the look of it, he was the only one from his company who was alive at the moment.

Slowly, the ringing of his ears died out. The adrenaline from the blood sank back; the sounds of the falling debris, and the excruciating pain returned to him in full measure. He screamed, although he had been taught not to do that. He threw away his heavy rifle; what use was that now? He was dying, alone, a bloody mess, on the streets of Baghdad. He sank back, trying to lie down and find a position that would be slightly more comfortable in these last few moments of his life.

That's when he heard a terrified coughing, and a feeble moan of pain. He recognized the voice; Dominicus was alive! Marcellus could make out from the sounds that he wasn't very far off from where he lay, but he wondered if he should call out just yet or not. Was it safe? He waited a moment, but the moans of pain from Dominicus continued. Marcellus could take it no more, so he shouted towards the source of the sound.

"Dominicus! Nick! It's Marco! Can you hear me?"

The silence of the night pressed at Marcellus from all sides. As he screamed, for a few moments even the moans of pain were stifled. Then, a voice spoke. A small, tired, drained voice answered Marcellus in the night. "Marco!" it was Dominicus, "I'm hurt! I'm bleeding, from everywhere, man! Shit, I'm scared!"

"Yeah, man," said Marcellus reassuringly, "hang in there buddy. I'm right here too. Someone's bound to come over soon. Just hang in there." He could do nothing for Dominicus, not in the current shape he was in. All he could do was make sure that Dominicus knew how to keep his calm. 'Believe! Believe! They're coming for you, they'll get you out, alive and in one piece! Believe that!' Marcellus kept saying that to himself.

Dominicus wasn't speaking; Marcellus knew he had to keep talking to him. He wanted both of them to be able to make it out of there, alive. Somewhere, somehow, the task started to seem tough.

"Hey, Nick," said Marcellus in a soft voice. "You with me, man?"

"Yeah, Marco. I'm here."

"Where'd you land, after the explosion? I ain't able to place you right, brother."

"I'm up here. Lying on top of some miniature rubble hill," said Dominicus in a choked voice. "Swell view, though," he said after a pause, with a forced touch of humor.

"Yeah, I'm sure of that! How's the weather up there?" joked Marcellus, but he wasn't sure if Dominicus heard him or not.

Marcellus laughed at Dominicus' little joke, but it hurt. He had to stop quickly, even though the laughter went on inside. He missed Dominicus' jokes right now. He tried to sit up, so that he could hear Dominicus a little better, but the shrapnel in his legs did not allow him to do that very easily. After struggling to sit up for about a minute, he gave up and flopped down on the comfortable pile of rocks again.

The silence of the night pressed on them again; tired, lonely, and scared, the two friends lay. Marcellus knew Dominicus wouldn't be able to start the conversation, and he didn't want his friend to be lying there, wounded, in the darkness and the silence. Mustering all the courage and the cheerfulness that he could in his voice, he called over to Dominicus in the darkness.

"Hey, Nick!" Marcellus called. "Buddy, you remember that play we did as kids?"

Dominicus was groggy from the pain, and it took him some time to register that someone was talking to him. From a great distance it seemed he could hear someone calling his name. 'Nick! Hey Nick, wake up!'

Marcellus kept calling out Dominicus' name, even though for quite some time he got no answer from the darkness. After what seemed like ages, a faint voice answered, "Marco, that you? I'm sleepy." There was a slight pause, and Marcellus knew if Dominicus fell asleep, he would not wake up. In a desperate attempt to keep Dominicus focused, Marcellus started laughing. Hysterical laughter surrounded the rubble, and even though it hurt Marcellus to laugh, he didn't stop. It worked, and a little later he heard Dominicus' voice.

"What you laughing at?" said Dominicus, and Marcellus was glad to hear the tinge of strength in the voice.

"Random things, from our childhood days," said Marcellus. "You remember that god-awful play that we did?"

"What play?"

"Aah, I can't remember the name," said Marcellus, getting almost choked by yet another bout of laughter. "The first one that we did together, man. You got hit by a rotten tomato chucked at you by your big brother. What was that play, man?"

"Mother, May I," said Dominicus. "That was the name of the play. Mother, May I! Your stupid idea it was too!"

A small laugh had escaped from Dominicus as he remembered that horrible play the two of them had made; the story about an ambitious kid, trying to persuade his overly strict mother to buy him an electric guitar. The story hadn't been so bad either.

"If only, Marco, you could act," said Dominicus, fighting yet another snigger. "Maybe then, I wouldn't have smelled of raw eggs for two days!"

Marcellus was laughing again at the memories. "How was I supposed to know your brother would be carrying that arsenal of tomatoes and eggs, man! I mean, you hear about stuff like this only in movies!"

Dominicus was laughing at the memory now too. "Remember, Sue Allen? The girl who played Mother?" asked Dominicus. "She got smacked by a tomato, you remember that? Half her face was red 'coz of the tomato juice, while the other half blushed in fury!"

"Yeah," said Marcellus. "I remember that! God, we were such lame kids!"

Both boys were laughing at all the memories, rolling around in the rubble as they remembered their past. Marcellus was glad that now, finally, a little bit of life had been injected into Dominicus as well as in himself. He knew he had to continue talking now, though. He couldn't let go of Dominicus now, and he knew just how close Dominicus was to slipping away into oblivion.

"You were a comedian too, weren't you, Nick?" asked Marcellus. "You did funny stuff and said funny stuff too, ain't that right?"

Nick smiled fondly at the memory, and said, "Yeah, man. That was a long time ago though. A good ten years back, wasn't it? Wow! Never even gave that memory a second thought till right now! What happened to that comedian in me?"

"I dunno, brother," said Marcellus. "You were damn good too. I remember Sue Allen used to come to all of your gigs, to listen to your stuff."

"Yeah?" said Dominicus, feeling strangely glad about Sue Allen's silent presence at all his gigs.

"Yeah. She used to sit way at the back, didn't want you to see her for some reason. She liked you, but I think she took it as a hazard to come too close to you. What with the tomatoes flying about all around you," and both boys got lost in the peals of laughter again.

"Hey, Marco," called out Dominicus as he calmed down again. "You still paint and write the way you used to?"

"Naw, man. You think the army allows me to do anything like that these days? Someday, though, I'm gonna pick it up again. I still got my brushes with me."

"Man, you shouldn't have left all that. You were great!"

"Aah, cut the bullshit, man. I wasn't that cool, just loved doing what I was doing with that brush in my hand. Or that pen," said Marcellus wistfully.

"You know what this reminds me of?" asked Dominicus, a little while later.

"What, us lying here in the rubble like this? No idea, what?"

"You seen that film, Lions for Lambs? Remember those two soldiers lying in the dirt just like this?"

"Yeah," said Marcellus. "Although, I didn't really get that movie."

"Well," said Dominicus, "neither did I." The satisfied smile on his face was obscured by the dark, but Marcellus felt that smile nonetheless. The smile shone through the darkness like a spot of hope, and he thought maybe, just maybe, they could get out of this one alive.

Dominicus seemed to sense what Marcellus was thinking. He knew how futile thinking along those lines was. Somehow, Dominicus knew the reality of the situation much better than Marcellus did; he knew they were going to die, that nobody would be able to come to rescue them in time.

"Marco," said Dominicus, "I ain't scared no more. How hard can it be now?"

"What are you talking about," asked Marcellus. "How hard can what be?"

Somewhere, Marcellus knew just what Dominicus was talking about, but he didn't want to acknowledge that right at that moment; but Dominicus had the situation figured out much better than Marcellus.

"Dying, man," said Dominicus, seemingly an eon later. "I'm not scared of dying anymore."

"What you talking about, man! The sky's getting paler over there, see? It's gonna be light soon! Hang in there buddy, we're gonna make it."

"I can't see, man," said Dominicus. "The shrapnel hit my eyes. I'm bleeding from the face, I think. I'm blind. Some comedian I'd make now, eh?"

Marcellus couldn't say anything. He was hurt himself, much worse than what he thought. Still, at that moment, he could feel Nick's pain and not his own.

"What about that view you were talking about, then?" asked Marcellus. "You could see that, couldn't you?"

Dominicus smiled a sad smile that no one saw, and said, "No man, I was kidding when I said that. I guess that comedian is truly alive inside me."

"No, Nick! We've almost made it man. Trust me on that! We're almost there, just hang in there. Don't you let go now," screamed Marcellus at Dominicus.

"I'm tired," sighed Dominicus. "Dunno how long I can hold on man."

"Keep talking, Nick. Just keep talking!"

"No can do man, ain't got the energy for that anymore."

"Alright, then you just lie down and listen, ok? I'll talk, and you listen. Can you do that?"

A faint grunt of assent came from Dominicus, and Marcellus knew time had truly run out. Still, he had to try, to save this friend of his. Marcellus talked about their childhood, he talked about Sue Allen, he talked about their big houses, and Dominicus' dog. Rowdy, they used to call him. A big shaggy thing he was too, and Marcellus remembered just how much Dominicus loved Rowdy.

"You think Rowdy's gonna be in heaven, waiting for us, Nick?" asked Marcellus. "You think dogs are allowed there? Rowdy was a good guy, I'm sure he'd be there in heaven, if only they'd allow him. God, I loved that goofy dog of yours! You remember the insane things he used to do?"

Marcellus didn't get any response from Dominicus. He feared the worst, but he ploughed on bravely in spite of it.

"He used to run away, every chance he'd get. I never got it, where and why he used to run out. I mean, it's not even like he used to like staying outside all the time; sooner or later he was bound to come right back! Sly bastard he was..."

Marcellus' voice was starting to get choked. He realized there were tears mingled with the blood and sweat running down his face, but he tried not to let that show in his voice. He went on, "and that time when he chased evil-tempered Brown down the road? You remember how happy he was, just to see old Mr. Brown chasing his stick at the giant furball, before turning right round and running!"

Marcellus couldn't go on. He knew Dominicus was gone. He knew Nick wouldn't have kept him waiting for an answer for so long. He didn't care about the tears that were flowing steadily now, down his face. He didn't care about the pain.

"Rowdy's gonna meet us at the gates, man," said Marcellus. "I just know it, he knows us too well. Nick, take my word for it! He's waiting for us at those gates right now!"

He turned around to face the side where he had heard Dominicus' voice coming from, and although he couldn't see anything, it felt nice to be lying with his eyes on his best friend; the man who had saved his life twice before. He didn't know if the night was almost over; he knew that he was ready, for that final journey.

"Nick," he asked quietly into the darkness, "does it hurt?"

Marcellus got no answer. He quietly closed his eyes, and the world went dark around him.