Note from the author: This is my promise to not publish after midnight again. I’ve been posting image prompts, notes, outlines, I even posted the content prompt I left for myself for the next chapter. Having promised, of course, I won’t completely live up to it, but now that it is a commitment – well, I’ll have to at least considered it before I publish, or hopefully-and this is the real goal-I will fully proof it first. Apologies to all if the narrative took on an unexpected look. ๐๐ซฃ๐ If you happen to notice changes, it’s not you. It’s me.
K9LTW – a fiction by MKHurder
Chapter 9: The Trap
Waking to the Jungle‘s indifferent silence
The jungle had its own way of speaking. Sometimes it was chatter โ birds calling, insects buzzing, leaves whispering in the canopy. Other times it was silence, heavy and deliberate, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Donnie had learned to listen. Bodie had taught him more than any sergeant ever could: silence wasnโt peace. Silence was life. They listened long and hard before moving.
They were two klicks out from Firebase Bearcat, threading a narrow trail that skirted a dry creek bed. The canopy above was thick, the light filtered and green, the air damp enough to cling to skin. Reyes walked point with Rook, his rifle angled low, eyes scanning the tree line. Donnie followed with Bodie at his side, one hand resting on the leash close to the dogโs harness. Rook padded behind Reyes, ears flicking, nose twitching. The rest of the patrol moved in a staggered column, boots sinking into soft earth, packs shifting with each step.
Donnie felt the change under his skin before his other senses caught up. The bird calls thinned. The insect hum faded. Bodieโs head tilted, ears pricked forward, tail stiff. Donnie raised a fist. The column halted. Reyes froze mid-step, squinting into the brush. Rook sat, eyes flicking from leaf to leaf. The silence pressed down like a weight. Donnie wondered at Rook’s delayed reactions. He would mention it at debrief.
Tripwire Trigger
The wire was thin. Fishing line, maybe. Strung ankle-high across the trail, nearly invisible. They saw it a heartbeat too late.
โDown!โ he shouted, grabbing Bodieโs harness as the dog lunged. The two flew as one. The explosion was small, directional โ a homemade blast meant to disorient. Dirt and leaves flew. Reyes was thrown sideways, landing hard but alive. Rook spun mid-air, landing in a crouch, eyes locked on the brush. Donnie dove behind a log, heart hammering, hand still gripping Bodieโs harness.
The jungle erupted.
AK fire cracked from three sides. Muzzle flashes strobing behind leaves. Rook ran left When Reyes yelled “BREAK”, heading away from the threat and at the same time beginning to flank the enemy. Donnie fired from cover, short bursts, the recoil sharp against his shoulder. Reyes found cover in a root tangle, blood on his cheek, rifle steady. The air filled with smoke and splinters, the smell of cordite sharp in Donnieโs nose.
Even in their headlong plunge out of the line of fire Bodie still froze in alert, nose pointed. Donnie followed the line of his muzzle and saw the shooter โ perfectly placed to catch them in retreat, half-hidden, rifle raised. Donnie, thanks to Bodie, was faster and fired once. The jungle swallowed the sound. The figure dropped, rifle clattering against roots.
The firefight was chaos. Bullets snapped overhead, chewing bark, kicking dirt. RPGs began to rain fire on the squad. Rook kept moving through the brush, his handler guiding, rifle spitting fire. To stay still with no real cover under this much enemy fire was to die, even the rookie knew this. Donnie shifted positions too and often, firing in bursts, Bodie pressed against his leg. Reyes gritted his teeth, blood soaking his collar, but his rifle stayed steady, muzzle flashing in rhythm.
Smoke grenades hissed to cover the squad’s withdrawal. Donnie saw Reyes go down, and moved to his mate’s position, pulled Reyes up, arm around his waist. Rook and Bodie led the way, ears forward, tails low, weaving through brush and root. The jungle blurred behind them, gunfire fading. They reached a shallow ravine, breathless and bleeding, the smoke curling behind them like a closing curtain.
Reyes collapsed to one knee, coughing. Donnie checked Bodieโs paws โ one torn, bleeding lightly. Bodie didnโt flinch. He sat, ears forward, eyes scanning the canopy. Rook lay beside Reyes, chest heaving, tongue lolling, but eyes sharp. The jungle had gone still again. But this time, it wasnโt waiting. It was remembering.
“You okay, Reyes?”
“Yeah. I just tripped. Thanks for the assist, boss man.” he answered. Donnie and Bodie seemed to never make a mistake. He didn’t realize that Donnie was likewise unsure of himself at times. He just hid it better. Donnie would later tell him “Don’t ever show the grunts a weakness. Never. You hear? If they lose confidence in you, you might find yourself alone with no one but yourself and Rook to rely on. Capiche?”
Reyes returned Donnie’s stare and nodded, his face set in a death head’s grin.
The Long Silence
The silence after a firefight was never clean. It carried echoes โ the ringing in ears, the phantom crack of rifles your psyche told you was still incoming, the smell of sweat, blood, cordite and smoke that clung to uniforms. Donnie crouched beside Bodie, pressing gauze to the torn paw. His hands shook, not from fear but from adrenaline burning itself out. Bodieโs eyes stayed fixed on the tree line, ears twitching at every shift of leaf.
โYou did good, boy,โ Donnie whispered. โYou did what you were made to do.โ
Reyes leaned against a tree, bloodied but alert. His stare at Rook was different now โ respect, earned and quiet. From his previous runs with Rook, none exactly what you would consider great work, he had doubted himself and the dogs that morning, thought himself a burden to the team. Now he saw their role as lifelines. They kept the squad breathing. Then he realized that he was the choke point, not Rook. Rook met his gaze, tail thumping once against the dirt, then stilled. He vowed to do better, but most importantly, he refused to quit.
The patrol regrouped, counting heads, checking wounds. Two men were missing. The jungle swallowed names as easily as it swallowed sound. Donnie felt the weight of silence again. Not waiting. Not peace. Memory. The jungle remembered every step, every shot, everybody left behind and reminded all present of the cost.
The Ravine
They moved slowly, cautious, every sense stretched thin. Bodie limped but kept pace, nose working, ears flicking. Donnie had bandaged the paw and then used the GI’s inventive protection for their favorite K9 feet – one set, wool, socks, OD-green, universal size, and medical tape to keep them in place. He only needed one and Bodie walked funny for a few minutes before they set out again. The K9 didn’t protest or try to remove it. But it was something he needed to get used to first so it wouldn’t distract him from his job.
Donnie adjusted his grip on the harness, steadying the dog as much as himself. Reyes walked stiffly, his arm, scraped raw in their scramble to disengage, was bound with tape. Infection was also a killer here. One hand on the leash. In the other, his rifle slung at the ready. The others followed, eyes wide, breaths shallow.
The trail wound deeper into the jungle, the canopy closing overhead. Light dimmed, shadows thickened. Every rustle felt like a threat. Every silence felt like a trap. Donnieโs mind replayed the explosion, the muzzle flashes, the alert that had marked the shooter, the kill shot. He knew they had survived because the dogs had seen what they couldnโt. Because they had listened when the jungle spoke. They still weren’t fast enough to save those two troopers. This fight of attrition was suddenly becoming too costly to Donnie’s way of thinking.
At dusk, they found a temporary hide โ a loop of brush and root that offered cover. Flashlights with red lenses glowed faintly, casting warm light on tired faces. Men quietly tended gear, checked rifles, cleaned wounds. Bodie curled at Donnieโs feet, eyes half-closed but ears still alert. Rook lay beside Reyes, head on his handlerโs boot, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm.
The jungle pressed close, but for a moment, there was stillness. Not peace. Not waiting. Just the bond between men and dogs, forged in sudden fire and sudden silence.
Reflection
Donnie sat with his back against a log, Bodieโs weight warm against his leg. He thought of the morning, of Reyesโs doubt, of the silence that had felt like waiting. He thought of the wire, the explosion, the trap that had closed. He thought of the dogs โ Rook charging, Bodie freezing, alerting, leading. They had done what they were made to do. And because of that, most of the men behind them were alive.
What of those left behind? The ultimate taboo. You don’t leave anyone behind, alive or dead. The jungle would remember. So would they.
The lantern light flickered against faces drawn tight with exhaustion. Reyes shifted, wincing, but his eyes stayed sharp. Donnie stroked Bodieโs fur, feeling the steady rise and fall of the dogโs breath. Outside the loop, the jungle whispered again โ not waiting, not peace, but something else.
It was a reminder. The war wasnโt over. The traps would come again. More men would die before the silence would return.
So too, would these grunts return to the cauldron of war. Those bodies out there demanded it.
(to be continued: Chapter#10 – Not outlined yet)
To start from the beginning: K9LTW-ch#1
to read another of my fictions in progress: DohReyMe&theKitties3-Ch1 or the Prequel – Doh – Rey – Me
Related Links:
- Four-legged-fighters
- Vietnam Dog Handlers Association
- Military Working Dog Heritage Museum
- Top Dog – Lucca
Bonus Fiction Feature:
If you read any of the fiction I create here to the end, you will be able to download a free copy when It’s complete. If I get a referral from you, I’ll throw in the fiction – Burtt the Blade.
From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders
More from Popi’s Collection of Facts & Fiction
- Burtt the Blade – fiction
- Doh – Rey – Me – fiction – book – written here
- Mystery of Willow Woods – fiction – short Story – written here
- The Last Signal – part one – fiction – book – written here
- Rift Guardians – chapter#1 – fiction – book – written here
- DohReyMe&theKitties3-ch1 – fiction – book – written here – in progress
- Shorty’s Path – non-fiction auto biography book
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