Chapter Six: Weaponry, Wait for the Gunfire

“You know him, don't you?” Delevan asked Ben, his mouth closed. The man who had shot Ben was sitting in front of their cell, staring at them.

There was silence from Ben. He had a strong feeling, this was true, but he wasn't sure how he knew the man. He could remember voices from his past that he didn't fully remember,

(Please, not my wife...)

but he didn't know who they belonged to.

( He moved from Vietnam to the Americas back in uh... 1982...)

“Vietnam,” Ben whispered when the man went outside, “That's where we are, isn't it?” He looked at Delevan when a different soldier went in the man's place. “What happened?” he asked, “Did we get transported back in time or something?” There was something about this idea he found amusing. He never believed in time travel.

Delevan shook his head. "It's much more than that." Despite his curiosity, Ben didn't ask any more. He didn't really want to know that much.

- - -

"So how do you..." Bob Burley started to say when he picked up the gun lying next to the dead soldier. The gun fired, and Burley dropped it on the ground. "Never mind." He looked at the ground. It looked as if it had been painted red. "There's a lot of dead people here," he whispered quietly. He was scared to death, although he wouldn't like it in those terms. He preferred scared for his life. Even after the death of many of his patients, death still frightened him.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Irving muttered, picking up two guns (A pretty good feat, considering he only has one hand) and threw one at Michael. Michael's finger almost pulled the trigger, but he used his other hand to stop it from shooting at him. "Careful with that," Irving said. Michael shot Irving a look, then shifted his eyes to the gun.

"I hope this is as easy as the movies," Michael said quietly, hoping Irving wouldn't hear him. The man knew a lot about guns, and Michael was afraid to say something wrong near him.

"Trust me," Irving said after hearing Michael, "it's anything but easy."

"Thanks for such encouraging words," Michael said in a dark tone of voice. "Now what do we do?"

"We wait," Irving said. Then, knowing it was going to sound crazy, added: "We wait for the gunfire." The others just stared.

- - -

Payback. That was the word that popped up in Ben's head when he was trying to remember who the Asian was. It was coming back to him now. George Benedict was the name the man supposedly went under when he moved to America. The man was one of Carter's victims. The day he held him hostage was the worst day in Benedict's life. Ben had killed the man's family, and this was payback. Payback that he knew he deserved.

- - -

The gunfire started right on schedule. Flashes of light and the rumbling sound of bullets flinging out of the gunners’ armaments suddenly poured through the area as the foretold gunfire shot through the strangely located forest. It was like Vietnam all over again. In a way, it was more than just a similarity. The soldiers' uniform looked so familiar, it couldn't have been anything but Vietnamese. Irving had nothing against them. He wasn’t racist. Deep inside, he knew they were also victims of the war. But at that time, he was so blinded by anger and contempt at what they had taken away from him, he would have attacked them if Michael hadn’t pulled him back.

“What are you, crazy, ol’ man?” Jeanna almost screamed at him while still keeping her voice low. Her respect for the old man had dropped slightly compared to the first time they met.

“No,” Irving said, breathing loudly, “I’m past that.” And he was. It all started with one phone call.

- - -

The man who came to be called The Iron Giant put down the phone with anxiety. He had just received a call from the government saying he had been drafted for the war. Known for being “tough”, Irving acted as if he had been wanting this to happen. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

“What was it?” his wife asked in her usual stressed-out voice, sounding as lazy as ever (From what Irving had watched as a kid, he had once believed that it was supposed to be the role of the husband). She wasn’t like that before their marriage. Ralph had sometimes wondered if the whole “nice” thing was just an act.

“I’m going to Vietnam,” Irving replied in a neutral tone. His wife’s reaction was not so far from what he had expected.

- - -

Zayla was looking at the sky, confused. The stars were there now, and this area definitely had more light than the area closer to the highway. It wasn't like that before Ben went missing. What does that mean? she repeatedly asked herself.

Then Irving finally spoke. “It’s time to go,” he said, still whispering. And so the others followed, Victor the last in line.

- - -

Author’s Note: This chapter was kind of rushed since my internet connection broke down (I do most of my work on Quickedit), so the quality might be lower than the other chapters.