My second day in the desert

Heat, paranoia, the incoming danger that follows when you are behind enemy lines. My squad was deployed in the middle of nowhere which the knowledge of any time they will attacked. Setting up our positions, hiding, keeping for the most time radio silence. That feeling of dread, each time I remember it. It pierces through me, eating away my false sense of security.

We were all trained by the best of the best. But that's training, this is real. Any mistakes, any sneeze, even a murmur can compromises the mission. All I had will we waited for a single mistake from their part, was that jingle. The jingle I memorized as a kid. The Candle Cove jingle, it soothed me in that desert wasteland. It keep me focus, it keep me safe. As if I was watched by a guardian angel. Now that I reminisces, it wasn't an angel that was guarding me. It was that thing from my childhood. My imaginary friend, the faceless one, ha, ha,ha. I need to find a better name for it, if even it has one. I feel sorry for all its victims. Past, present and future.

No way out. Feels different when you know, you are no longer on the top of the food chain. Even though, I don't know if it eats. Getting off track here. It was a waiting game. I could hear that tick tock in my head. Slow and loud tick tock. Tick Tock. Then a boom.  They knew. They used a RPG. Crap. Fuck. That's all I could think of. One of our sharpshooters shoot. Head shot. I started to give support fire. All routine for a war zone.

Everything becomes a blur. Only pure instincts follows. Oh, no. I remember something. He and a girl was there. D and that little girl. It looked that they were playing. D was more like a older brother to the little girl. The girl was dancing in a joyful manner. They both were having fun.  I only got a glimpse of them, but it had to be burn in my memories. Why they were there? I know, I talked to D before. In that bar and I seen him in my childhood. I see no reason why he was there?

D can't be that accountant, unless he's a vampire or something. I did my research about Dante. He checks out. He has a past, he had parents and have a brother. That's normal. Dante could looked like D, but he isn't. He is just a red herring.

The end of my second day in that desert, we won. We lived. None of us could hurt. Only for that glimpse, nothing out of the normal. I don't know, maybe it's a detail somewhere deeper in my past or more into the events in my desert that holds answer.  My squad died, that's what Brandon said. Or more specific, I said in one of our past, I don't know what else to called it, incarnations of our sessions. Maybe, just maybe.