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Michael Malone - Weebly

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swept you up in it. But then guys went wild on gun-door<br />

fire too, coming down into an LZ to unload grunts or<br />

pick them up; a lot, dumb assholes, going back in<br />

zipper bags. Guys went wild with the noise and terror,<br />

spasming on the guns so much you couldn't tell if they<br />

were shooting or getting shot. The birds flying the<br />

copters couldn't stand to touch the ground, the ground<br />

could scarf you up so fast. It was no place to be. And<br />

yet earth had saved Maynard Henry once, easing him<br />

down in the orange monsoon ooze when he had<br />

crawled, squirming, under sprawled bodies to hide<br />

himself. Over him the bodies, wet and warm like<br />

another layer of earth, had kept him alive when death<br />

had passed over, its black muzzle rooting for any who<br />

might have escaped, but missing him, pressed into the<br />

mud. Lucky, he said, remembering.<br />

Yeah, guys freaked on the ground. He could see<br />

the face of one, a fat braggart child's face, the eyes<br />

crazy with uppers and downers, telling him about a<br />

slope female corpse, how "I propped her up and I<br />

spread her gook legs and I got my whole clip off right<br />

up her gook cunt. Pow pow pow pow. Pow pow pow.

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