
In 1968, an Air Force loadmaster has spent three years flying the war dead home from Vietnam, and his career rests on never asking what is inside a box. Moved to a night route whose cargo no crewman may see, he keeps the habit until a stopover in the middle of the Pacific, when he turns on the hold lights. The seats are filled with dead American soldiers in dress greens, embalmed, made up to smile, and wired to battery packs that let them walk.
One of them is the neighbor boy he watched grow up three doors down, whose mother buried a sealed coffin in May. Instead of flying home, the loadmaster is ordered into the Central Highlands with a detail that steers the dead ahead of the living into minefields, tunnels, and enemy fire.
Each new battery means another hole punched in the brass tag at the boy's collar, and when the tag is full, his last walk will be down a mined slope where the spent dead are left standing. The loadmaster has until the end of summer to put one soldier in the ground, on a hill where every man has already made his bargain with the dead.
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๐ Fictional Work Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes only. The events, characters, and organizations portrayed are entirely fictional, and any references to governmental bodies, entities, or individuals are not intended to represent reality. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real-life events or organizations is purely coincidental.
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