“Prophet?”
“What?”
“Whattaya see for LZ Pansy?”
“I'm only gonna tell you part: Peacock will come back.”
~ ~ ~
I sleep a couple hours after guard: wound into a ball in my field jacket, curled into the muddy hole we are digging, covered by my poncho, which serves only to channel the water to my feet. When I wake up my boots are soaked through, which must explain the dream I am having about pissing my pants in a dark cloakroom, the pee running down my legs and into my rubber boots.
“Hey, my man, eat this and you can go back to sleep.”
It is the medic coming around with malaria pills. I take one but my wet feet keep me from trying to go back to sleep.
The sun is shining, reflecting off puddles of water here and there, and I flash on a junkyard full of broken windshields. Seeing the hil
