What Goes Around Comes Around

What Goes Around Comes Around

         "Hey Quinn, slow down," Corporal Burcher shouted from the back seat. She was a cop from Kansas City, Missouri and always concerned about safety.

         "Go fuck yourself, Burcher. Let me drive," Quinn replied as he raced over the dirt paths leading back to Camp Lemonnier from Petite Douda. James Quinn was several years younger than the cop but the same rank and hated when she tried to boss him around. While she did everything she could to stay in the law, he had fun breaking it whenever he could. He had lived in a small town in Kansas his whole life and was used to crazy back-road driving where he got to do whatever he wanted.

         The meeting with the village elder had gone well. Everyone was ready to get back to camp and finish the reports so they could go to their rooms and rest. The dust filled the car through the windows, even if they had been closed it would have come through the air conditioner. The smell of the Douda Dump came with the dust, burning trash and animal carcasses spread through-out the car sliding up the team's nostrils. When they had first arrived the smell made them sick, causing the morning's eggs and biscuits to bubble in their stomachs at this point they had grown used to the smell. They still, on occasion, made jokes about the hot Djiboutian smell, referring to the hot country they were forced to work in for a year.

         "Sergeant Erickson, would you tell him to slow down?" Burcher pushed the Staff Sergeant sitting in the passenger seat. The sergeant was between both of their ages and a very agreeable team leader. He was very laid back and everyone on the team liked him which made for a fun working arrangement.

         "Quinn slow down a bit, we're almost there anyway." SSG Erickson said a little unconvincingly as he adjusted his aviators.

         "Roger, Sergeant," Quinn replied, annoyed at Burcher for being so persistent.

         The team rounded the corner still going a bit fast. Quinn began to slow as the camp came into sight. He knew some military police would be hanging around the gates watching for people doing stupid stuff. The tires hit pavement with a jerk as the land rover jumped onto the main road that ran in front of Camp Lemonnier.

         "Who wants to do today's sitrep?" SSG Erickson asked the team members as they approached camp.

         "I wi-" Burcher started but was cut off when Specialist Carter who had been quiet most of the ride yelled.

         Something slammed hard into the vehicle sending it spinning off the road. Quinn fought to control the land rover as it spun around throwing everything that was not strapped down. After several spins the vehicle finally stopped close to ten feet from the road.

         "What the hell was that?" Quinn yelled as he looked around the vehicle at the other passengers.

         "Is everyone alright?" SSG Erickson asked.

         Carter and Burcher both replied saying they were ok and Quinn nodded back to his team sergeant. The four exited the car looking to the road to see what they had hit, the African smell they knew so well hit even harder as they left the protection of the land-rover. The team walked over to the road finding pieces of their headlights here and there. Finally they saw what had hit them laying on the opposite side of the street. A large camel struggled to pick itself up off the ground, and made a pained grunting sound as it failed once again.

         "You hit a freaking camel, Quinn," SSG Erickson said a little annoyed.

         "No, it hit me sergeant," Quinn replied with a laugh. "The paperwork we're going to have to do because of this stupid thing is going to drive me crazy. You'd think with a new vehicle getting smashed every week the camp would have premade paperwork just for these accidents."

         "It's hurt!" Carter said moving towards it ignoring its scared grunts. "We need to get it to a vet!"

         "Carter, get away from that thing, it'll bite you," SSG Erickson yelled at the specialist. "We can't help it and they are definitely not going to let us take it into the camp."

         "We have to do something," Carter yelled angrily. The specialist was one of two females on the team but was not nearly as tough as Burcher and worked half as hard as anyone on the team. She was never really made for the army but realized too late as she was already committed to her contract.

         "I can shoot it if you want," Quinn said with a laugh. "Or I can hit it again with the truck."

         "Fuck you Quinn shut the hell up," Carter said becoming more upset.

         Burcher put a hand on Quinn's shoulder to keep him from going near the camel. "Leave her alone Quinn," She told him quickly.

         "Carter we can't help it," SSG Erickson said again. "We need to get back to camp, come on." SSG Erickson turned back toward the land rover.

         "Sergeant Erickson, at least let me bandage it up," Carter pleaded vigorously. "We have the stuff to at the very least splint its leg!"

         Both SSG Erickson and Quinn looked at their watches at the same time. Quinn and Burcher looked over to their team sergeant waiting for his answer.

         "Fine. Make it fast so we can get back," SSG Erickson finally answered.

         "Son of a bitch!" Quinn cursed at no one in particular. "I'm going to wait in the land cruiser and start the reports so we're not stuck in the goddamn office all night." He walked past the rest of the team to the vehicle.

         Burcher teamed up with Carter and the two used materials from the vehicle to splint the camel's legs while trying to keep from getting nipped at by the stinky animal. Finally the two got the animal fairly bandaged up and cleaned some of the blood out of its matted, flea infested fur. Another team vehicle came to pick up the four soldiers and all of their equipment. Soon after a tow truck was sent from the camp motor-pool to drag the damaged vehicle back to camp. The rest of the night the team worked on their paperwork from the day's mission, not to mention the police reports for the accident. Everything died down from there. Carter complained to the company First Sergeant about the treatment of the animal and asked to be put on a different team, SSG Erickson was quick to approve it and Carter was sent to another office on camp. Several days went by with the team accomplishing missions just like any other day. The vehicle had been replaced a couple days later with an almost identical land rover. The team laughed about how similar it was but complained about a weird smell that the previous vehicle didn't have.

         "New vehicle, compliments of a camel." Quinn said laughing.

         "Don't crash this one Quinn," Burcher said teasing her teammate.

         "Shut the fuck up, Burcher," Quinn replied with a grin, "Tell the camel not to crash into me. We only have so much crap in our first aid kit that works for retarded camels."

         Burcher and Quinn loaded some soccer balls into the truck. The children in the surrounding villages loved soccer and could never have enough soccer balls. Quinn moved around the vehicle checking the tires and popped the hood to look at the oil dipstick. When everything seemed good to go he gave the ok to leave.

         "Good god, it takes us longer to get out the gate than it does to get to Damerjog." SSG Erickson said as they waited in the line of vehicles to get checked out the gate.

         Once out, the vehicle flew down back roads past the Douda Dump and the Douda villages. The dust from the nasty Djibouti roads filled the vehicles air conditioner. Usually farmers and goat herders walked the streets, sometimes leading their herds with them. Today there were only a few groups of kids out playing. Most would wave and shout as the Americans drive by.

         "Burcher, you can take notes during the meeting while I talk to the village elder about this school project," SSG Erickson instructed the corporal. "Quinn, get some pictures of the building location and any pictures you'll need for your reports this evening. Go ahead and blow up a soccer ball or two for them also."

         "Roger, Sergeant," Quinn replied. "Is Mo meeting us there," He asked referring to one of the interpreters.

         "No, Mo was going to camp, I think Ish is going to meet us. Next week when we come back with the Major we'll bring Mo and Djama," Erickson replied.

         "If you can get a close number of people in the village I can add that to my report, and we don't have a picture of the school headmaster in there." Quinn said as he took a left turn onto a long dirt road that would lead them the rest of the way to Damerjog.

         SSG Erickson wrote in his notebook the information Quinn needed. He was about to ask a question when suddenly the group heard a loud bang. Quinn yelled as his steering wheel went crazy and he lost control of the car. In mid turn the front right tire had caught a nail and burst. The vehicle spun wildly off the road. The back right tire slammed against a rock causing the top-heavy truck to begin a roll. Quinn had been driving close to 50 MPH. The vehicle kept rolling until it slammed hard into a tree. Quinn screamed out as his door was bent inward, the folded metal cutting into his leg, cutting deep into the muscle and nicking the artery. The vehicle was finally still but upside down and so turned around it took the team members a while to get their bearings.

         "Are you guys okay," SSG Erickson asked. He released his seatbelt and dropped to the ceiling on the car. Then quickly shoved his door open.

         "I'm fine," Burcher said. "I just bumped my head. I'm pretty sure my arm is going to bruise also." She undid her belt dropping onto the ground and pushing her way out of the vehicle.

         Quinn groaned, "I think my leg is stuck. It hurts!" He tried to move it and a feeling like nails being shoved into his leg ran up his nerves. He cried out in pain, seeing red for a couple seconds. He felt warm, sticky blood slide up his leg and could already feel his uniform pants sticking to the wound.

         "Burcher," Erickson shouted. "Get over to his door, we need to get him out of the truck. On the count of three open his door and I'll lower him so he doesn't drop."

         "Fuck that," Quinn screamed. "Leave me here, I already know that's going to hurt like a son of a bitch!"

         "We have to get you out of here, Quinn. We can't leave you hanging upside down no matter how much we may want to." Erickson said joking. The joke was wasted on Quinn due to the spurt of pain that went coursing through his body.

         "Fuck! Do it then just hurry the fuck up," Quinn yelled grabbing the steering wheel and squeezing, trying to ignore the pain. He reached over and undid the seat belt as SSG Erickson grabbed his shoulders to keep the door from digging into his leg more.

         "Now Burcher!" Erickson yelled as he moved under Quinn better to support him.

         Burcher yanked the door hard. Quinn yelled out, cursing everything in sight as he felt the door tear out of his thigh. He saw red and felt pain in every crevasse of his body. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth losing focus of the situation going on around him. He faded in and out of consciousness hearing bits and pieces of what was going on. He finally regained consciousness while laying on the ground under a large tree that sheltered him from the sun. He looked around to figure out where he was. The smell of gasoline hit him and he realized he was only 50 or 60 feet from the vehicle. He moved his arms around on the ground and felt a blanket of some sort underneath him. They must have used it as a stretcher to move him. Pain still ran through his leg which was now wrapped tight with a tourniquet to stop the bleeding. He tried to sit up and his head exploded with pain so he lay still groaning a little.

         "He's awake, SSG Erickson," Burcher yelled over to the team sergeant standing a couple hundred feet away fighting with his cell phone.

         Erickson walked over and looked down at the soldier on the ground. "How are you feeling, man?"

         Quinn gritted his teeth  and lifted his head slightly, "Oh, you know, just one of those days, what the hell happened?" He asked before dropping his head back onto the ground rather hard and trying to catch his breath.

         Burcher waited for him to catch his breath before looking to Erickson then replying, "You went into shock and your leg is cut up pretty bad. I think you have a couple broken ribs and definitely have a concussion."

         "Look, man, I'm going to start walking towards Damerjog and try to find Ish so we can get a vehicle or find a phone to contact camp," Erickson told him. "Burcher is going to stay close to you but she's going to try to find cell service so she'll be walking around here, don't worry we won't leave you alone."

         Quinn coughed causing more pain to send his head spinning. "Eh," he started, "I've had worse, I'll be ok. What's the worst that can happen? I die? Ha." He meant to joke but sounded somewhat helpless as his laugh turned into a painful cough.

         Erickson grinned at Quinn's forced optimism. "You're right, bro, everything is going to be alright." With that he left and started walking the direction they had been driving.

         Burcher sat with Quinn for a couple more minutes before walking away to find cell phone service. After several minutes Quinn noticed how quiet it was between his coughs. He tried to lift his head up and look around but failed once again due to the pain running through his body. He wasn't sure if he'd ever felt anything this bad. He faded in and out of consciousness. The heat from the sun was radiating off the hot sand, humidity causing sweat to carry dirt down his face and neck.

         "Burcher?" He tried to shout but it turned into a cough. He tried to shout again but stopped as a wave of dizziness caused his head to hurt even worse. "Son of a bitch." He cursed under his breath. "I hate this fucking continent."

         He lost track of time as he laid there cursing everything he could think of. He started to wonder what time it was when he heard something moving toward him. At first he thought he was imagining it due to a wave of dizziness. The ground vibrated pretty hard so he knew he hadn't imagined it and it couldn't be a person. He reached down, checked that his M9 was still strapped to his side and pulled the pistol from its holster.

         "I swear to god, if a mother-fucking animal tries to eat me I am going to be so pissed off!" He said to himself as the footsteps got closer.

         He moved his head slightly trying to find out what was coming toward him. He smelled the animal long before he saw it, the smell reminded him of cows back in America and for a split second he was comforted by thoughts about home. Suddenly a large hoof landed on the ground next to him. Quinn cursed as the surprise made him jump and he hurt even more. He ran his eyes up the animals leg and noticed a makeshift splint. He kept turning his head. Looking even though he didn't need to, to know what this animal was.

         "Fucking camel," He shouted. "Go away you smelly piece of shit." He was in too much pain to realize the irony of this animal finding him laying here. He groaned as he felt more and more pain. The sun had moved now and the tree was no longer keeping it out of his face. Sweat ran down his forehead into his eyes.

         The camel almost seemed to notice and moved in front of the injured man. It folded the front leg that wasn't splinted and awkwardly laid down in front of him shading him a little from the sun. It made a loud mooing noise from the pain in its own leg.

         Quinn laughed suddenly, realizing this was karma coming back to kick his ass. "I get it you smelly fucking animal. I didn't want to help you and now for some reason you're here to watch me suffer." He laughed and coughed all at the same time groaning.

         The camel moved its head closer to the man, its breath reeked from who the hell knows what it ate. Blood had been trickling down some cuts on Quinn's head matting up his hair and making it itch.

         "What the fuck are you doing, camel?" Quinn shouted as it moved its head over his. Suddenly a giant tongue dripping with saliva stretched out of the camels mouth and began to lick Quinn's head. As it licked, some of the blood was removed and the itch was relieved a little.

         "Oh you nasty fuck!" Quinn yelled gagging from the smell. He lifted his pistol then realized what was going on. The camel was trying to help him, he doubted it would do any good but didn't think he was in any danger. He lowered his gun and looked wearily at the animal. Something about it seemed ethereal but he could feel the shade of the large animal and smell the filth.

         The camel moved its leg and roared in pain, that was when Quinn really got a good look at the animal's leg. It had been cut open by the crash and was now covered in green puss and blood. It was emitting its own awful smell. It had been nearly a week and a half and the camel definitely wasn't doing very well on the injured leg, it looked skinnier than any he had seen. For the first time he felt a little guilt about injuring the animal. He looked at his own leg then back up to the camel's.

         "Well I suppose it's only fair if you wanna try to shoot me." Quinn said with a slight grin.

         For nearly an hour Quinn lay on the ground next to the camel. He had finally gotten used to the awful smell and dozed off when he heard a vehicle off in the distance. He opened his eyes and looked to where the camel had been laying only to find that it was gone. He turned his head frantically looking for his companion. The sun was almost set but was the perfect height to shine right into his blood and sweat covered face. For a split second he thought he saw the animal off in the distance limping away slowly, surely it couldn't make it far in that condition.

         "Camel!" Quinn shouted at the fading figure, "Get your smelly ass back here!"

         Another wave of dizziness hit him as the vehicles got closer. He heard footsteps running toward him and thought he heard Erickson's voice.

         "He's dehydrated." Someone standing over him said. "He definitely received a concussion too."

         The pain and fatigue overtook him and the world around him faded to black as he felt arms lift him onto an actual stretcher. He welcomed the much needed rest and let the darkness take over. A couple days later Quinn woke up in the camp's hospital. He was laying in one of the least comfortable beds he had ever felt. He groaned as the pain came flowing back through his body and looked around the room.

         "How are you feeling?" Burcher asked, she had just switched shifts with Erickson, the team members had been watching over him as he slept in the hospital.

         "You wanna quiet down a bit, Burcher?" He asked reaching up and grabbed his head as the loud voice seemed to hit him like a hammer.

         She laughed and walked out of the room to catch SSG Erickson before he left, bringing him and the doctor back into the room.

         "Hey bro," Erickson said looking at Quinn as he looked around the room.

         "Hey sergeant, Burcher, how long have I been asleep?" Quinn asked looking from person to person.

         "Just a couple days. You have been having some strange dreams though. You kept talking about a camel." Burcher told him bringing over a plate of food.

         "It was there, Burcher." Quinn said taking the plate. "Did you see it? It tried to help me but couldn't. Maybe we can still go find it and get it some help before it dies!" Quinn finished suddenly putting the plate down and trying to get up, only to be stopped by more pain in his leg.

         "Whoa, Quinn settle down, there was no camel there," Burcher said.

         Quinn looked at her. "Yes it was, it was right next to me!"

         "You were hallucinating, I was with you the entire time." She told him as she pushed him back down onto the hospital bed.

         "No, I know it was there. It was in pain like I was, it needs medicine. It had an infection," Quinn said quickly. "I know it was there," he repeated.

         "Quinn, it wasn't there," Erickson told him. "Burcher never left you alone, you were just in shock and seeing things."

         The doctor stepped up and handed Quinn some medicine. "Take this with your food it will help the pain. Your leg is going to be alright but you'll have to be on crutches for a few days and you'll probably have to be sent back to the States due to the severity of your concussion."

         Quinn sat hopelessly looking from person to person wanting to press the issue of the camel more but knew it wouldn't go anywhere. He gave up finally and ate his meal, the medicine made him fall back to sleep. After several days of packing and sending his gear back to the States Quinn was sitting on the airplane leaving Djibouti. He laid his head against the window and tried to sleep as the plane took off, flying over the rocky desert-filled country. He perked up a bit as he saw a group of camels running below the giant plane. As the plane gained altitude it became harder to see them but he thought for a moment he saw one laying down as the rest were out running, one leg was awkwardly outstretched and its head was laying against the ground unmoving. Sadness shot through the soldier as he thought about the camel and how he had done nothing to help it. Mixed with sadness about leaving his team, wondering how the deployment will go without him. Quinn closed his eyes for a minute and his exhaustion took over sending him to sleep.