Eight of Swords [Reversed]

On The Front Lines—MORNING

The next morning finds me waving my men on through a battlefield. They are in the desert racing on foot towards the city. I am robotic, swiveling, firing, and egging the men behind me. The air is thick with fire, smoke, aircraft and shrapnel. I duck behind the burning skeleton of a jeep. I am encouraged by the ever-closer walls of the city, and turn to my dwindling number of soldiers.

“Com’n, guys! Almost there. You can almost smell the Baba Ghannouj.”

I jump out from behind the jeep as Iris’ dune buggy swings past and flips in the sand.

“Noooooo!” I yell taking a hesitant next step. A chopper passes low over me. There is an explosion.