K9LTW-Ch14

K9LTW – a fiction by MKHurder

Chapter 14: The Quiet Between

one day after the blast

The compound still smelled of smoke. Burnt canvas, scorched wood, and the faint metallic tang of blood clung to the air like a second skin. The fires had been stamped out, the wounded collected, the dead carried away. Yet Bearcat itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something unseen to break the silence.

McCready walked the perimeter twice before sunrise, boots crunching over disturbed dirt where stretchers had been laid. He paused at the cleared patch, staring at the faint stains left behind. The sandbags were torn, the canvas flaps still hung loose, but the wire held. For now. He adjusted his helmet, eyes scanning the treeline, listening for the jungle’s patient heartbeat.

Inside the compound, the squad moved like men underwater—slow, deliberate, silent. They sorted supplies, patched gear, reinforced the perimeter. A vet tech examined Bodie’s paw while Donnie tightened the harness, his face drawn and unreadable. Bodie’s ears flicked, his eyes alert, but his movements were slower now, his body showing the strain of constant patrols.

---

Morning Routine

The med tent was quiet. Bodie lay on his side, panting lightly as the tech cleaned a shallow cut. Donnie hovered nearby, arms crossed, jaw clenched. He didn’t speak, but his eyes never left the dog. Every time the tech touched Bodie’s paw, Donnie’s fingers twitched, as if ready to intervene.

“Nothing serious,” the tech muttered, glancing up. “He just needs rest.”

Donnie nodded but didn’t move. Rest was a luxury he no longer believed in.

Outside, riflemen stacked fresh sandbags, their movements methodical. One soldier paused to watch Donnie through the canvas flap, then turned away. Everyone knew Donnie hadn’t slept. His eyes were hollow, his face gaunt, his hands trembling when he tightened straps or checked Bodie’s gear. But no one confronted him. Not yet.

---

Midday Briefing

The squad gathered near the map crate. McCready stood over the spread terrain sheet, a single lamp casting a pool of light. He pointed to patrol routes, fallback zones, and suspected enemy trails. His voice was calm, clipped, each word measured.

Some men nodded. Others stared. A few bowed their heads.

Donnie stood apart, Bodie at his side. He didn’t speak. He just listened, one hand resting on the dog’s back. His gaze flicked between the map and the treeline beyond the sandbags, as if expecting the jungle itself to lean in and listen.

McCready’s eyes lingered on him. He saw the tension in Donnie’s shoulders, the way Bodie leaned against his handler as if absorbing the weight. Donnie’s team hadn’t taken a break since they returned from the fateful patrol. He wouldn’t or couldn’t shut down. He didn’t call him out—not yet. But the moment was coming.

---

Afternoon Repairs

The wire was checked. Traps reset. The jungle loomed, quiet and patient.

A small cluster of men sat near the perimeter, faces lit by the last light. Shock, anger, exhaustion—all etched into their expressions. One soldier cleaned his rifle with slow, deliberate strokes. Another stared into the trees, unmoving.

Donnie walked the line alone. Bodie limped slightly, but kept pace. Donnie’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, his rifle slung but ready. Every rustle of leaves made his jaw tighten. Every birdcall sounded like a warning.

Behind him, McCready watched. He saw the way Donnie’s boots dragged, the way Bodie’s tail drooped. He knew what exhaustion looked like. He’d seen it before—in men who pushed too far, who carried burdens alone until they broke.

---

Evening Confrontation

McCready found Donnie near the sandbags, watching the treeline.

“You’re not the only one hurting,” he said.

Donnie didn’t answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the jungle. Bodie shifted, pressing closer to his leg.

“You keep this up, you’ll burn out,” McCready continued. “And when you burn out, you take him with you.”

Donnie’s jaw clenched. His hand tightened on Bodie’s harness.

“I go,” he said finally. “Bodie goes. That’s it.”

McCready studied him for a long moment, then nodded. He didn’t argue. Not yet. But the line had been drawn.

---

Night Fires

Small fires glowed across Bearcat. Men sat in clusters, talking low, cleaning gear, watching the wire. Their faces were lit by flickering orange, shadows dancing across helmets and fatigues.

Donnie sat apart, Bodie curled beside him, head resting on Donnie’s boot. His eyes were open, staring into the flames, but his mind was elsewhere—back in the blast, back in the chaos, back in the moment Jet fell.

He didn’t sleep. But he didn’t patrol either.

For the first time in days, he stayed still.

---

note: all images are AI constructs made from my prompts.

(to be continued: Chapter#15 – The Edge of Sleep)

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

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Related Links:

• Four-legged-fighters
• Vietnam Dog Handlers Association
• Military Working Dog Heritage Museum
• Top Dog – Lucca

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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