Rip's Adventure 3

Time drags on ever so slowly.  Days turn to nights and nights turn to days.  The only difference is the  light and darkness.  No one sleeps and everyone is half awake.  How long have they been here?  They don't know and every body is depressed.  The sense of foreboding is strong and palpable.  There are other people around but close connections like brother and brother and husband and wife are impossible. 
     Rip, Tom and Orson hang out, but the depression hovering overhead takes the joy out of their friendship.  They talk of many things, however Cpl. Shirah, this hellhole, and the establishment  dominate the conversation.  Who are the beings that have brought them here and what do they want?  The generals have never been seen but the soldiers know they exist.  Why don't the show themselves? 
     "Tom, when we are in battle, do you fire your weapon?" asked Rip.
     "You know, now that I think about it, I don't have one." he replied.
     "Me either." chimed in Orson " don't think I have seen the other side fire either."
    "That's strange, who is killing us?"  asked Tom.
    "Instead of fighting, next time let's find out." said Rip.
     They did not have long to wait.  Waves of the enemy soldiers poured over the earthworks.  The sound of their screaming was to loud to concentrate.  Even after fighting them for so long, the noise was unbearable.  Trying to stay alive and follow the path of the lasers was a lot for the trio to do.  The blasts of light came so fast it was hard to trace the origin.  They did notice one strange event.  There was a small group of the opposing force that were not fighting, but just looking around.  Just as Tom, Rip and Orson were doing, so were they.  Then something truly disturbing.  Only a few had weapons but they were not using them.  One of these was Cpl. Shirah.  The laser blasts were getting farther and farther apart and the retreat order was given.  Someone of the other side must have realized what was going on and gave the retreat signal.
     This war was tiresome and everyone just  relaxed where they were.  As soon as they could recover some energy, they would head back to their spot.  Now though they just lay down on the ground and breathed a sigh of relief that they had not perished.
     "Did you see what I saw?"  asked Rip?"
     Tom and Orson nodded in agreement. Knowing what they saw, gave them hope that they could come up with a plan.  Whatever it turned out to be, they knew it had to involve the group on the other side.  But how?
     "I think that we need to sneak over there at night."  said Tom the braver of the three.
     "That's to dangerous." said Rip, the more cautious of them.
     "Maybe so,"said Orson "but we don't have a choice.  First we have to identify who they are."
    "How?" asked Rip.
     "I am thinking."
     They were interrupted by the sounds of the Tennessee Waltz wafting over the dark landscape.  That made everyone forget what they were doing.  Like a Pavlov dog, they all had a glow on their faces.  It was going to a wild time in the camp tonight.  Every so often, the establishment would bring in females to keep them company.  Rip used to think that it was to keep everyone happy, but now he was not so sure.  It was if the establishment knew what they were discussing, and it could be even more sinister than that.  Either way he was glad for the diversion. 
     Being so long without companionship makes even the most homely, attractive.  Such was the thought of the woman who was paired up with Rip.  After the ravishing was finished, Rip tried to talk to the woman.  "What is your name?" he asked.  She just looked at him and smiled.
     "Why don't you answer?"  She just rolled her eyes and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.  She motioned again, this time on her knees on the soft dry dirt.  Rip joined her and she began to write in the smooth soil.  "Are you trying to write?" Rip stupidly asked.  She smiled again and wrote some more.  He could not make out what she was writing, but he was so excited he squealed like a hog.
     "What are you up to Rip?" asked Cpl. Shirah, coming up from behind the two.
    "Just having some fun, Cpl., just having some fun."  Before the Cpl. got there, Rip shuffled his feet to erase the writings.  He could hardly contain his excitement and blamed it on the wild sex.  Cpl. Shirah looked at him with disgust and moved on.  When he was out of earshot, Rip tried to get her to write again.

Rip Two

    Rarely did they see the enemy.  No man's land was only a couple hundred yards wide and everyone stayed behind and below the dirt barricades.  When they did see them, there was no time to study their appearance.  Dodging green lasers and someone trying to knife you was not conducive to studying.The enemy did not seem that different though.  A few may have two heads or double limbs and maybe different colored skin but everyone bled the same.  No one seemed that interested in killing anyone though.  It just seemed as if everyone was trying to survive.  This was not a war that anyone had a vested interest in other than staying alive, so mostly they all stayed in the trenches.
     Entertainment has changed little since war began eons ago.  Makeshift card tables were set up all along the trenches.  Five card no draw was the favorite game.  There was no money, so anything went, from bragging rights to the shoes on their feet.  Rip was the most popular player, for he would entertain the solders with stories.  Some were disturbing, but most were of a young man in Dutch Pennsylvania.
     He was a lazy gent that had no ambition whatsoever.  He would go to the local tavern and drink well into the night, hoping that his nagging wife was asleep when he got home.  He was never that lucky though.  After tending to the children all day and having to save a cold supper that she had slaved over she could not go to sleep.  So when he finally staggered in, she was pissed.  The young man was tall and gangly, with arms to long for his body, a small head and a pot belly made him popular with the children of the village.  Before he went to the tavern he would tell the children in the town square of his Indian exploits.  In his eyes he was the only one that could fight the Indians and win.
     His wife married him because he had money, but laziness and bad business dealing left her disappointed and broke.  The more she nagged, the more he stayed away.  Since he could not spend the night at the tavern, he began to wander into the mountains on the outskirts of the town.
    "I wish that I could escape this place and go into the mountains with that fella." mused Tom.
     "Me too, Tom." replied Rip, "What you got?"
     Orson and Justin threw their hands away in disgust.
     "Pair of sixes, Jack high."  Tom said.
    "To bad," smiled Rip.  "I have three deuces and a couple of Queens."
    All of a sudden, Tom jumped up, overturning the table showering cards in all directions.  Every one scattered, thinking that Tom was upset about losing the hand.  But when he threw Jack across the yard, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, except Jack.  Jack was the smallest of the group and had eight legs.  He had slowly eased up behind Tom and pinched him on his bright red butt.  Tom was afraid of nothing but spiders and Jack took advantage of that every chance he got.
     "One day Jack,  one day."  Tom sheepishly said.
    Jack gave that mischievous grin and everyone laughed.

Rip's Adventure

 At the loud piercing scream of pain, Rip looked over to his right.  The soldier's arm disintegrated and he passed out.  This was supposed to be a more humane war.  Guns and bullets were obsolete and the pain with them.  Such was not the case.  Just ask anyone who survived the lasers.  There was less blood, but the wounds were more severe.  What did not get cut off clean, fried and fell off later. Other than that, war was the same as it had always been; men screaming in fear and pain, praying and a lot of cussing.  The smells were the same, unwashed bodies, bad breath, the wind bringing in the Oder of the latrines  and rotting flesh. 
     Most men signed up for war to protect home and country, but this war was different.  The army was a collection of different beings from planets across the galaxy.  They did not even realize what happened to them.  Just woke up one morning and were at the battlefield, with no memory of the past or how they arrived here.  All of them responded to their name, but that was all they knew.
     "Get down, Rip, don't forget where you are!"  Orsen yelled.
     "Thanks" Rip replied.
     "Did you know him?" asked Orsen.
     "No, he just got here I think, what about you?"  Rip replied.
     "No, but I think he was from Earth.  They should really train us better before they just throw us in here."  Orsen said,
     "We are just bodies to them, they could care less if we live or die." replied Rip.
     "Yeah" said Orsen, and with that the settled in for the night.  The two lost souls watched the fireworks on the horizon and dreaded the morning.
     The only thing worse than war at night is war in the daylight.  In the pre-dawn light hell was slowly coming into view.  Broken ships and vehicles were ghostly images.  As the dawn brightened the real horrors came into focus.  Hundreds of bodies strewn around, stacked on top of each other.  Some with heads, some without, some with arms, some without.  Some cut into and some with no visible wounds at all, but all were dead.
     "Such a waste, and for what?"  Rip heard Orsen say under his breath.  No need for a reply so Rip just nodded his head in agreement.  However it caused him to think, what is this for?  They never saw the officers and very seldom did they see the enemy.  Just day after day of being trapped in this hell, watching men die or worse, getting wounded and not dying.  Listening to the screams, cussing and praying was enough to make a man crazy.
     Rip and Orsen were humans from earth, but their friend Tom was not.  His bright red skin and stocky build made him an imposing sight.  He was a fierce warrior, afraid of nothing and always heading for the front.  He was a gentle giant though that protected his friends.  He had been hit a couple of glancing blows from the lasers and suffered no harm.  They are saving me for hand to hand." he said and gave a great guttural laugh.  Rip, Orsen and Tom had formed a close relationship over the last few months.  That was frowned on by the establishment and corporeal Shirah set out to destroy it. 
     Cpl. Shirah was a jackass and lorded his will over the men.  He was a short, fat bald ass and had the long ears and buckteeth to look the part.  "You three are to split up or die!"  he hee-hawed.  Too many warriors becoming friends was a threat to the establishment and would not be tolerated.  The heavy fighting of the last few days had led to cpl. Shirah not being able to follow up.  Not only was he a short, fat balding ass he was a nasal whiner.  "Chicken shit" was Tom's assessment of him.  The cpl. had been here a long time and should be used to the war by now.  However loud and boisterous he was, he could not hide the fear in his eyes.  The more he compensated for it the more apparent it became.