The Time Loop

Private Kiriya -2

The soldier I was shouting to was already dead. My order died in the air, a meaningless pulse of static. I squeezed my trigger again.

My buddy Yonabaru caught one of the first rounds they fired back—one of those javelins. Hit him straight on, tore right through his Jacket. The tip came out covered in blood, oil, and some unidentifiable fluids. His Jacket did a danse macabre for about ten seconds before it finally stopped moving.

There was no use calling a medic. He had a hole just below his chest nearly two centimeters across, and it went clean through his back. The friction had seared the wound at the edges, leaving a dull orange flame dancing around the opening. It all happened within the first minute after the order to attack.

He was the kind of guy that liked to pull rank on you over the stupidest s**t, or tell you who’d done it in a whodunit before you’d finished the first chapter. But he didn’t deserve to die.

My platoon—146 men from the 17th Company, 3rd Battalion, 12th Regiment, 301st Armored Infantry Division—was sent in to reinforce the northern end of Kotoiushi Island. They lifted us in by chopper to ambush the enemy’s left flank from the rear. Our job was to wipe out the runners when the frontal assault inevitably started to push them back.

So much for inevitable.

Yonabaru died before the fighting even started.

I wondered if he suffered much.

By the time I realised what was going on, my platoon was smack dab in the middle of the battle. We were catching fire from the enemy and our own troops both. All I could hear were screams, sobbing, and “f**k!” f**k! f**k! f**k! The profanities were flying as thick as the bullets. Our squad leader was dead. Our sergeant was dead. The whir of the rotors on the support choppers was long gone. Command were cut off. Our company had been torn to shreds.

The only reason I was still alive was because I’d been taking cover when Yonabaru bought it.

While the others stood their ground and fought, I was hiding in the shell of my Jacket, shaking like a leaf. These power suits are made of a Japanese composite armor plating that’s the envy of the world. They cover you like white on rice. I figured that if a shell did make it past the first layer, it’d never make it past the second. So if I stayed out of sight long enough, the enemy would be gone when I came out. Right?

I was scared shitless.

Like any recruit fresh out of boot camp I could fire a rifle or a pile driver, but I still didn’t know how to do it worth a damn. Anyone can squeeze a trigger. Bang! But knowing when to fire, where to shoot when you’re surrounded? For the first time I realised I didn’t know the first thing about warfare.

Another javelin streaked past my head.

I tasted blood in my mouth. The taste of iron. Proof that I was still alive.