War Read online

  Shit! What was it about this particular man that made War forget all the laws he should follow? Why did he want to wrap his arms around Russell and keep him safe from every bad thing in the world?

  Panic danced in his heart for a second. It wasn’t because Russell was a guy. War might have only fucked women when he’d been alive, but after living for centuries he’d learned that it didn’t matter what sex the person was. It only mattered whether he wanted them or even loved them. As far as he was concerned, people got too caught up in each other’s lives.

  Yet this was the first time he’d ever wanted to interfere in a mortal’s life, to take him away from all the problems and horrors haunting him and show him the beauty existing in the world. He’d sweep Russell up and take him to his tent in Mongolia if he could. He’d teach him how to ride and let him wander the steppes to absorb the solitary emptiness of that place. Maybe that’s what Russell needed.

  “If I could, I’d take you away from all this. Too much noise and activity. I think you need quiet. A place no one will bother you for days, so you can work through whatever is going on in your mind.”

  War kept talking, describing his tent and herd of horses. He spoke about the vastness of the plains he rode whenever he was home. He continued until his throat ached and the sun peeked through the blinds. The hospital began to come alive and grow busier. It was time for War to leave, yet he could barely bring himself to reach out and squeeze Russell’s hand.

  “I’ll be back,” he promised.

  Was it his imagination or had Russell tightened his fingers around War’s? Buoyed by the perceived reaction, War left with a lighter heart. Maybe things would be okay.

  Chapter Four

  Six months on and Russell was ready to leave the institution the military had stuck him in. His mind had healed enough for him not to go catatonic every time he saw the colour red. He’d learnt all the right things to tell the doctors to get them to leave him alone. Oh, everyone believed he was better. Everyone except the voice he heard in the night.

  Whether it was his subconscious or another delusion he’d created, the voice saw through all his lies. Russell had shattered all those months ago when Jimmy and William, the medic, had died. Nothing would ever fix the broken shards of his mind. Fuck, there were still parts missing and Russell didn’t know if he’d get those back or find them. He did admit to himself that maybe the military sent him back to his unit too earlier. They were still fighting in the mountains of Afghanistan, and just being next to the cliffs and drop-offs had terrified him. Russell worried the fear of falling off them caused him to freeze and that’s why Jimmy and William died. He didn’t react fast enough to save either of them.

  His imaginary night-time confidant seemed to understand the shambles Russell’s life had become. So many nights, while lying in the dark, he’d listened to whoever it was that spoke about the vastness of the plains and the horses of Mongolia. Russell wasn’t sure why his mind had picked Mongolia as the home of his heart, but slowly over the months it became the place he wanted to visit. If only to see whether or not reality matched his dreams.

  His final evaluations were done and Russell sat in his room, waiting to hear from the doctors about his mental fitness. After all the hoops he’d jumped through, they had better damn well sign his release papers.

  While staying in the hospital, Russell had made plans to travel across the world to Mongolia. It was going to be a hard sell to his parents, but he’d do whatever he had to do to convince them to let him go without a chaperone.

  “All right, Sergeant Heinz. All your paperwork seems in order. I’ll sign your release forms and we’ll get you out of here as soon as possible.” His doctor breezed in, smiling cheerfully, holding up a sheaf of papers. “Do you have someone to take you home?”

  Nodding, Russell dredged up a grin, hoping the doctor wouldn’t notice that his heart wasn’t in it.

  “Yeah. My dad’s on his way up from the parking lot.”

  “Great. It’s good to see you’ve managed to overcome your mental health issues, Sergeant. I hope I don’t see you back here.”

  They shook hands and Russell watched the doctor leave the room, stopping for a moment to greet Russell’s dad.

  “Glad to hear they’re letting you out of here, Russ.”

  His dad’s jovial tone grated on Russell’s nerves, but he couldn’t show his annoyance. As hard as the past year and a half had been on him, it had been just as difficult on his parents. He’d seen the toll his serving and being wounded had taken on them. They looked older, with far more grey in their hair than there’d been when he’d left.

  “So am I.”

  The nurse bustled in with a smile. “Here are your prescriptions. Remember to make an appointment to see a psychologist closer to you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He took the papers from her, knowing he wasn’t going to take the pills.

  Russell hated how the medicine made him feel. Even while he’d stayed trapped in his mind, at least he’d experienced emotions. Fear, anger, and guilt were only a few, but he had grasped the fact that they existed. When he took the pills, he didn’t feel anything. It was like he was wrapped in cotton. The world around him moved in slow motion and he was stuck in glue.

  Everyone else thought it was wonderful when he didn’t have an episode at the noise of thunder or the colour red. Russell couldn’t explain the fact that he got lost in the medicine. Any atom of personality or whatever made him Russell disappeared when the drugs kicked in and he became even more of an empty shell than he was..

  “I hope you have a good life from here on out, Sergeant Heinz.”

  “Thank you.”

  Russell didn’t bother to correct her about his rank. He’d been medically discharged a week earlier. The army wasn’t going to risk it in case he freaked out again. If he were to go catatonic again, the men in his unit who counted him to watch their back could die.

  After the nurse issued a few final instructions, Russell gathered his stuff and left the mental ward. As he stepped through the doors out into the bright clear day, he vowed never to return. He would do whatever he had to do to keep from going back there, even if it meant lying or pretending to be okay.

  “Your mother will be so happy to see you outside that damned place.” His dad grinned and slapped his shoulder. “We need to stop at the pharmacy and get your meds, son.”

  Filling the prescriptions might be a good idea. Knowing he had the medicine might ease his mother’s mind. It wasn’t going to stop the argument he was going to have with them about travelling to Mongolia, but it might help a little.

  “I can’t wait to see her as well.”

  They pulled out of the parking lot and, as he looked back at the retreating facility, he spied a man standing alone on one of the rolling hills surrounding the grounds. The sunlight gleaming off his red hair caught Russell’s attention. The man raised his hand in a farewell gesture as if he knew Russell could see him. Russell didn’t return the wave, unsure if the stranger was real or a figment of his broken mind.

  He settled back in the seat and closed his eyes. Pretending not to be crazy was tiring work. Far more tiring than he’d thought it would be. His muscles ached from the constant tension and worry about the possibility that he would flashback and freak out.

  His head pounded, not only from the lingering after-effects of the medicine, but from the battle between real and fake. If anyone knew, they’d put him back in the hospital and he wouldn’t be able to take it any more. Russell needed to get away from the world for a while. Not in a ‘losing his mind’ way, but he wanted to find a spot totally different from the world he lived in at the moment.

  “Russ, we’re home.”

  He woke up to his dad shaking his shoulder. Stretching and yawning, Russell stared at the ranch house he’d grown up in. A fresh coat of white paint was the only thing different about it. Bright orange marigolds and yellow daffodils bloomed in the flowerbeds in front of the house. The huge oak he’d bui
lt his first tree house in peered over the roof and he longed for those more innocent days when he could play among the limbs and forget about the world outside.

  Russell climbed out of the car before grabbing one of his bags. His dad carried the other one in. Stepping inside, it was like Russell had gone back in time. The scent of chocolate-chip cookies baking mingled with the lemon scented cleaners his mom used on the furniture.

  “Oh Russ, you’re home.”

  His mom enveloped him in a strangling embrace. He buried his nose in her grey curls and breathed in her familiar smell of baby powder.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  But it wasn’t home for him any more. He couldn’t stay there and pretend his life hadn’t changed in fundamental ways. Russell’s mind wouldn’t let him be happy in his childhood home.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and lie down? I’m sure this entire experience has been tiring. The cookies will be ready in ten minutes and I’ll come get you.” His mom broke the hug and patted his cheek before she gathered his father with a glance. They headed back towards the kitchen.

  He picked up both bags and went to his room. It showed how well his mother knew him when she suggested he go lie down. He was tired, and simply wanted to rest for a while. He dropped face-first on the bed. Thank God, it didn’t have that antiseptic hospital smell. His sheets had been line dried and smelt of sunshine. Closing his eyes, he relaxed each muscle, convincing himself there weren’t any surprises hiding in the corners. As he drifted asleep, the image of the red-haired man appeared and his worries disappeared. Somehow, the stranger made him feel safe. He was too exhausted to analyse why.

  “Honey, wake up. It’s time for dinner.”

  Russell opened his eyes to find his mother sitting on the bed next to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder.

  “How long did I sleep?” He rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

  “Five hours. I know you didn’t sleep well at the hospital, so I figured it’d be best to just let you rest.” She smiled as she brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

  “Thanks, Mom.” Russell turned his face away from her, trying to make it look like he was looking at his watch.

  “What’s wrong, Russ?”

  Tension shoved any contentment out of his body.

  “What makes you think there’s something wrong?” He hedged as he fiddled with his watchband.

  “I’m your mother, Russell Heinz. You might not have been around for a year or so, but I’ll always be able to tell when something bothers you.”

  Heaving a sigh, he looked at her. Was it a good time to tell her he was leaving? Probably not. He should wait for a day or two, but his flight to Mongolia left at the end of the week and he wasn’t going to miss it. Of course, telling her he was going on a trip could convince them he really was crazy.

  “I can’t stay here.”

  Russell met his mother’s inquiring gaze. What did she see when she looked at him? He was thirty pounds lighter than when he’d left. Some of the loss had been replaced by muscles. The rest was from his stay in the mental ward. For a couple of months, he hadn’t been interested in eating.

  “Where are you going?” Her tone held no judgement, just a touch of concern.

  “Mongolia.”

  She blinked and he knew she hadn’t been expecting Mongolia as his destination. Her frown told him she was confused.

  “Why?”

  He laughed. “I know. It’s not really a tourist destination, is it? I mean, when people think of going on trips, they don’t normally think of Mongolia.”

  “You’re right about that. Again, why do you want to go there?”

  After climbing to his feet, he paced. Russell tucked his hands in his pockets as he walked. His mother stayed where she was.

  “I don’t know. During my episode, when I was mostly caught up in the shit swirling around my mind, all I could think of was Mongolia. Of course, I didn’t know the dreams were about that particular country. At first, I thought I dreamt about Kansas. You know, all plains and open prairie.” He ran his hand through his hair. “When I came back to reality, I looked at pictures on the net, and everything lead me to Mongolia, not Kansas.”

  She plucked at the comforter. “You’re going alone?”

  He crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. “I have to do this, Mom. I’m not sure why, but I don’t think I’ll be completely healed until I spend time wandering around over there.”

  His mom squeezed his hands and her smile held sadness with a hint of understanding. “I’m not sure I totally understand why you need to go to Mongolia, but I get why you can’t stay here. Too many memories of the way things used to be. You’re a different person than you were when you left home, Russell. I can’t stop you from going.”

  “You could tell them I’m mentally incompetent and have me institutionalised again. But I swear I’m not crazy or in danger of having another episode.”

  Okay, he was going to hell for lying to his mother. While he wasn’t crazy, he was on the edge of falling off the cliffs in his mind. Russell held it together by the skin of his teeth. One wrong word and he’d find himself in a sea of red. But he needed to go, so he lied.

  “We’d never do that to you, Russ. You’re not crazy. I don’t ever want to hear you say that word again. When would you leave?”

  As he stood, he glanced around to locate his small duffle bag. He grabbed it and dug through the clothes until he found his laptop and the folder holding his itinerary. Russell handed the folder to his mother.

  She read the time for his flight out of Kansas City and sighed. “You’re leaving in four days.”

  “Yes. As soon as the doctor told me I could be released today, I went online and booked my flight. The sooner I can leave, the sooner I can decide what to do with the rest of my life.”

  It wasn’t a total lie. Russell hoped, after clearing his mind of the overwhelming need to see Mongolia, that he’d be able to focus on his future.

  His mother sighed and set the folder aside. “Like I said, we can’t stop you from going. I’ll talk to your father and we’ll give you a ride to the airport.”

  “Thanks for not making this difficult for me.” Russell hugged her.

  “You were planning on arguing with me until the day before your flight, weren’t you?” She patted his cheek. “Russell, I might not like the idea of you travelling in some foreign land without anyone else with you, but you’re an adult and have the right to do what you want. Now let’s go have some dinner.”

  Dinner was a happy affair with laughter and reminiscing about the past. His younger brother and sister and their families showed up to welcome him home. There wasn’t any talk about his recent hospital stay or any discussion of the war. His family did their best to keep upbeat and happy for him. Was it all a show? Pretending to be normal had become the usual act for him.

  Drifting along, he didn’t comment much as they discussed things he didn’t know anything about. While he’d been gone, he’d missed out on so many events in their lives. War took so much away from people, not just the men and women who went to fight, but their families who had to continue on without them.

  They chatted about all the things they wanted to do with him and Russell waited for his mother to say something, but she’d apparently decided to avoid the subject of his leaving until the next day. In a way he was glad because he wasn’t up to the shouting and arguing that was bound to happen when it came up.

  About four hours later, the welcome home party broke up and his family went their separate ways. He gave his parents hugs before heading upstairs. After going through his nightly routine, he climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. He waited for excitement or nervousness to hit him.

  He was really going to Mongolia, a country he’d never even thought about before his injury and most recent break with reality. Now it was all he could think about, and usually his almost obsessive need to be there would keep him up, but he could feel his eyes growing heavy.


  Rolling over on to his side, he grunted. His bed at home was softer and far more comfortable than the hospital one had been. It was going to take time to get used to it, though he wouldn’t be there long enough to worry about it at the moment. As he fell asleep, he wondered if he’d dream about the rolling steppes of Mongolia again or, since he finally had all his plans in order, would he quit dreaming of the country?

  A deep breath and Russell smiled. His mind had brought him back to the hill in the middle of the Mongolian steppes he’d begun to call his own. He opened his eyes and gasped. The red-haired man from the hospital grounds stood in front of him. Russell stumbled back a step.

  “So you’re a figment of my imagination,” he muttered.

  A shrill shriek cut through the grass-scented air around them and the man held up his arm. Russell jumped when a bird dropped from the sky and landed on the man’s wrist with a hard thud.

  “What the hell?”

  The bird turned its golden gaze on him and mantled, spreading its wings in an aggressive posture. It was beautiful, brown and white with a hooked beak and long talons. Every inch of the bird spoke of deadly strength and an odd pride. If a bird had thoughts beyond survival, this one knew it was the top of the food chain.

  “I’m sorry Singqor scared you.”

  Russell’s attention went to the man holding the bird. “I thought you were real.”

  “I’m as real as this place is.” The stranger flung his free arm in an encompassing gesture to include the grass plains they stood amongst.

  “But we’re in my dream, so I know it’s not real.”

  “My name is War.” The man bowed and the bird shifted, unhappy with the movement. “This is Singqor. We would like to welcome you to Mongolia.”

  “I’m not there yet.” Russell paused, his eyes narrowing. “I remember you. You came to see me when I was injured, and before that while I lay on the ledge. But I called you Red and I thought you were real then.”