CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
On the Beach, Oceanside, Arsenault
The three friends, Jak Daly, Felicia Longpine, and Manny Ubrik, had finished their breakfast at the Four Seasons and were discussing the latest news. They were now in their eighth month of OTC, had just finished their company-level command exercises, and were looking forward to battalion staff and command training and then graduation. They were in the best physical and mental condition of their lives, and to top it off, they were in Oceanside on the first day of a seventy-two-hour liberty pass.
Daly laughed suddenly. “Hey, you know that class Dr. Mitzikawa told us was in the lesson plan, ‘Hand Receipts and Inventories in a Hostile Environment’? Remember, the first day of class?”
“Yeah, we had that block of instruction, didn’t we?” Manny Ubrik looked bewildered. “Or maybe we will have it. Why do you bring it up now?”
“I don’t remember it,” Felicia said. “Most of that stuff went right out of my noodle as soon as I passed the exam on it.”
“Well, we didn’t have it.” Daly leaned forward toward the others. “I asked Mitzikawa about it because I was curious. And you know what he told me? He said there was no course like that! He just threw it in to play a joke on us! Can you imagine that!” Daly laughed.
“The guy does have a great sense of humor,” Ubrik said. “I found his classes some of the most, er, ‘entertaining’ of the course. He makes military logistics sound like fun.”
A waitress came by and refilled their coffee cups.
“After eight months at Camp Upshur, I’m beginning, well, I don’t know how to put this,” Daly said, “but I’m beginning to feel, well, as though I like this place, the courses, the instructors, the tactical officers, hell, even the staff!”
“You would,” Felicia remarked sourly, “since you have that ‘special’ relationship with the commandant.” She knew now she’d hear the story again of Daly’s interview with the brigadier, and it was getting a little old but she couldn’t help ribbing Daly over it.
“Well”—Daly shrugged—“an outstanding Marine like me, you know?”
“I know what you mean,” Ubrik interrupted hurriedly, to forestall another recital of Daly’s interview. “We’ve grown into OTC and it’s grown on us. The staff and instructors here have led us through eight months of hell and they’ve done a superb job. They’ve shown us what we’re really made of. I’ve never felt better about myself in my whole life than I do now!”
“It is pretty amazing, if you consider how many really good people have dropped out since our class began. But, yeah, we’re great,” Felicia went on quickly. “Now, if you guys will get down off your Dragons for a moment, I’ve been thinking about what we’re gonna do while we’re here in Oceanside. First, I want to—”
“Good people,” Daly echoed Felicia’s comment, “some of them I considered better Marines than I’ll ever be, but”—he shrugged—“you never know how the coin is going to flip on you. Well, today let’s hit the beach, soak up some rays, enjoy that crystal clear water. And let’s race each other out to the buoy today.” The buoy floated about a kilometer off the beach, and on previous visits the trio had swum out there several times. Felicia had proved to be the best swimmer, but Daly was determined to beat her.
“Took the words right out of my mouth! Let’s do some ‘beachcombing’ tonight.” Felicia winked at Daly.
“Damn straight! We’ll lie out there and admire the waves in the starlight.” Daly winked at Ubrik.
“And tonight, while you lovebirds get sand in your Skivvies, I’m going to the Odeon and take in a live performance, have a few drinks if you guys are back by then, or hit the sack early.” Ubrik grinned self-consciously but the other two had come to respect his cultivated tastes in the months they’d known him.
“You would.” Daly grimaced, pretending disgust. “What’s on?”
“Oh, they’re performing Dean Shermer’s version of The Monkey’s Paw tonight. Shermer’s a great playwright, I love all his stuff. His Out of the Fire, a wonderful retelling of the Faust legend, won a Gargoyle Award last year.”
“Never heard of him,” Felicia said, “but, Manny, you are a fine work of humanity.” She laid her hand gently on Ubrik’s arm. “If it weren’t for that honey of yours back home”—she grinned at Daly—“I’d have you down there on the beach with me tonight instead of some oversexed jarhead who talks constantly about fire and maneuver, maximum effective ranges, and whose idea of romantic music is ‘Prettiest girl I ever seen / Was takin’ a shit in my latrine.’” They all laughed.
“And with you two spending the night on the beach, maybe our bungalow will be quiet enough that I can get a good night’s sleep,” Ubrik added archly.
“What do you hear from Solden anyway?” Daly asked, not envying Ubrik spending the night alone.
Ubrik shrugged. “All is well. They’re anxious to have me back, of course, and Jodie is still waiting patiently.”
“He gets a transgram a week from home,” Daly said. “He reads them to himself for hours and won’t let anybody else know what’s in them. He’s got them all tied up in a bundle, and when he dies, I’m going to open it up and read them.”
Ubrik snorted. “A letter a week? Don’t I wish. I’d show them to you, Jak, except you don’t know how to read.” Daly punched Ubrik lightly on his shoulder.
“Ah, Manny, you’re a wonderful guy,” Felicia sighed.
“Who’s Jodie? Your mother?” Daly laughed; it was a private joke between them. “Only a mother could love an ugly duckling like you, Manny.”
“You bastard!” Ubrik grinned and they did high fives all around. He had never enjoyed the company of anyone as much as he did that of his two companions.
Dawn on the Beach
The buoy’s light blinked steadily on the gentle waves as the sky began to lighten. Daly stretched luxuriously. It was going to be another beautiful day at Oceanside. A thin line of clouds hung low on the horizon, which was already beginning to glow pink and red with the coming dawn. But otherwise the sky overhead was a vault of stars. Beautiful, Daly thought. He rolled over and laid a hand on Felicia’s thigh. She was still asleep beside him. He wondered if he should wake her. A slight grumbling in his stomach told him breakfast would soon be in order. Goddamn, he thought, life is great! Then he felt a slight pang of guilt. There he was, having the time of his life in Oceanside, while his buddies were risking their lives on Ravenette. Well, what the Corps wanted of a man it got, and the Corps wanted him here.
He fumbled among his clothes and found his watch. It was half past 5 hours. The Four Seasons would be open in thirty minutes. He looked forward to washing up in the bathhouse and then walking up the boulevard with Felicia to the Four Seasons. Manny Ubrik was an early riser, maybe they’d meet him up there.
Suddenly the sound of the waves lapping gently on the beach was replaced with the strangest sucking, rushing noise as if vast quantities of water were flowing away from the beach! Then Daly noticed he couldn’t see the flashing beacon of the buoy anymore. At first he thought it had automatically shut itself off due to the increasing light as dawn began to break over the ocean, but the beach lighting was still on; the shoreline behind him was still dark except for the streetlights of Oceanside, which gleamed brightly.
Mildly curious, he sat up to get a better look. “Oh, holy shit!” he exclaimed in amazement. He jumped to his feet. Before his eyes the water was rushing rapidly out to sea. The receding flow had lowered the buoy below eye level, but now that he was standing up, there was the blinking light, high and dry on the seabed, a full kilometer out from shore!
Daly grabbed Felicia and shook her. “Get up! Get up, goddammit!” he yelled. He yanked her to her feet so hard he must have hurt her because she protested painfully, but he did not even notice. “Run! Run for the high ground!” Daly began pulling her up the beach.
“Wha—? Our things, Jak! We can’t just leave—” Then she saw what Daly had seen and they began running for the street, running as hard as they’d ever run in their lives. “Head for that building!” Felicia screamed, and Daly veered toward a six-story structure about a hundred meters back from the beach. He didn’t know at the time that it stood six stories high or what its purpose was, all he knew was that it was close by and it was high. Maybe even high enough.
Behind them, far out in the ocean, a gut-wrenching roar was growing louder with every passing second.