When Abrams arrived he had one of his people take a look at Mitchell. Then the private had rest of his squad join him combing the aspen grove, to search the bodies and make sure all of them were really dead.
Once that was finished he returned to inform Matt that his people would take over guarding the area for a few hours. “Get these prisoners back to camp and report in to Davis. It’s up to the sergeant whether he wants to give you the rest of the day off or have you come back out here.”
Matt nodded and called for his squad to form up and get the prisoners on their feet. Then he hesitated and stepped a bit closer to the Marine. “Was letting them surrender the right move?” he asked in a low voice.
Abrams and made a noncommittal noise, then turned and began barking orders to his squad.
Shrugging away the lack of response, Matt went over to the Marine looking over Mitchell. “What’s the good news?”
The man smiled. “Thankfully it is good news. It’s a through and through, but not in any vital area. If the shot had been less than an inch up and to the left he’d have bled out in minutes. As it is he’ll be out of commission for a while, and for the first few days we’ll want to be very careful he doesn’t reopen the wounds. If possible I’d suggest he stay here for now, since moving him won’t do him any favors.”
Matt glanced at Eddy, and the man straightened. “I’ll stay here with him.”
He nodded and clapped his squad mate on the shoulder. “We’ll bring you some camping gear and other stuff to make you more comfortable.” He turned to Mitchell. “I’m glad the prognosis is good. Hang in there.”
With Gutierrez in the lead the squad headed back towards camp with the nine blockheads in tow. Matt brought up the rear, weapon ready in case any of them tried anything.
In spite of their wounded squad mate his people were in a good mood after their victory. Matt was fully on board with their raised spirits; they’d taken the enemy out without losing anyone, and that was always worth celebrating.
There was a bit of a hubbub in camp as they came in with prisoners. People stopped whatever they were doing to stand and gawk, and there were more than a few cheers. Davis came out to watch the show, and Matt couldn’t read anything from his expression as he walked over to him to report in.
“Prisoners?” the sergeant asked.
“They surrendered.”
“Yeah, that’s usually how prisoners get taken.” Davis spat off to one side. “Caught yourself a bunch of them.”
Matt hesitated. “Did I make the right call?”
“As opposed to what, gunning them down after they’d tossed away their weapons?” The sergeant shrugged. “Can’t really say. We’ll send them on to the higher ups to deal with. Maybe they can question them or arrange a prisoner transfer or something. Or maybe they’ll string ’em up and finish what you started. Either way taking prisoners is usually the right call if you can do it safely.”
Davis motioned, and his Marines came forward to claim the prisoners. They wasted no time getting the nine blockheads into a truck, and within minutes were rumbling up Highway 31 and out of sight.
After that the sergeant gave his people a once-over, nodding in approval. “You all did good today, irregulars. I wasn’t wrong to trust you to protect that slope. Now, are you ready to get back out to your post? I’d like to free Abrams up to do some scouting in those hills, where the blockheads came in. See what he can see about why the enemy chose that spot for their first attempt to slip through.”
Matt glanced at his people, getting a few nods. “Yeah, we’re good to go.”
“Off you go then. And good work.” Davis nodded in dismissal and started for his command tent.
Matt hesitated, then followed after him. “Can I talk to you, Sergeant?” he asked in a low voice.
Davis glanced over. “Isn’t that what we were doing?” Matt shifted uncomfortably, and the man shrugged and held open the flap to his tent, motioning for Matt to go in ahead of him.
Matt stepped inside, and at the sergeant’s ushering settled into one of the two camping chairs off to one side near the wall, gripping the flimsy armrests. Davis plopped down into the other one and sat waiting patiently until Matt was ready to begin.
“You’ve seen plenty of action. As a leader you’ve probably had to deal with a few of your people getting bent out of shape.”
“What exactly are we talking here?” the sergeant asked with a deep frown. “Anything I need to worry about?”
“No, he’s in control,” Matt said quickly. “He’s not a danger to himself or the squad. It’s just, well, he shot up a couple of the blockheads after they started surrendering. He didn’t seem bothered by it when I called him out on it, either.”
“He wouldn’t be the only one in camp who doesn’t want to accept a surrender,” Davis said. “Did he disobey orders?”
Matt shook his head. “I’m just worried. He’s gone through a lot of bad stuff since the Gulf burned, and now he’s really gung ho about killing the enemy. Almost to the point I think he enjoys it. I’m worried about what that’s going to do to him down the line. What it’s already doing to him.”
The noncom sighed. “Give me the details,” he said. “All of them. Who’s your guy and what’s his malfunction?”
Although Matt didn’t really want to toss Pete to the wolves, he was here now and the sergeant probably wouldn’t appreciate him clamming up about specifics. He was the one who’d brought up the problem, and if there really was something to be worried about Davis needed to hear it.
So he started, haltingly at first, describing Pete’s willingness to help the town right from the beginning, how he’d lost his mother to hunger and sickness during the winter and his dad had been killed by the raiders in the spring. Then he, reluctantly, described the instances he’d seen from the young man that gave him reason to worry.
Through it all the sergeant stared ahead at the wall of the tent, expression curiously blank, and after Matt finished the silence stretched out between them. “Send him home,” the Marine finally said.
Matt blinked. “But we need everyone we can get. Besides, like I said he’s in—”
“No, he’s not in control,” Davis cut in, turning to give him a piercing stare. “You came to me because your instincts told you there was a problem and you trust my experience, right?” Matt nodded reluctantly. “Well let me tell you what that experience is. This is not a pleasant business we’re in, necessary as it is, and it takes its toll on us. When that toll’s too high, when a soldier’s head isn’t in the right place, they die or they get the people depending on them killed.”
The older man looked away, as if remembering something he’d rather not from his past, and sighed. “It sounds like you have good reason to worry about your friend Pete, and I can pretty much guarantee you don’t want to keep putting him in combat. You’ll be doing him and yourself a favor by taking him out of the middle of it.”
Matt had been afraid of that. He trusted Pete with his life, but he didn’t want to put the young man in a position he couldn’t handle. “He probably won’t go,” he said quietly.
“Then I’ll pull him back to base camp and find something for him to do here until he gets his act together.” Davis stood and put a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “But first I want you to talk to him. Get in his head, yank out whatever’s got him bent out of shape, and then I’ll keep him here where I can keep an eye on him until I’ve decided he’s healed from whatever’s hurt him. If he can.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Matt stood and offered Davis Pete’s rifle to hold onto. “I’ll leave it to you to decide when he’s ready to get this back. In the meantime I’ll be down three men with him reassigned to camp, Mitchell wounded, and Eddy looking after him.”