“To Ethan,” O’Brien said with a great degree of sincerity and cheer. “Provider of all this bounty”!

“Ethan!” Jones cheered, as the two raised their first mugs to toast.

“Having the Sheriff Bob’s fetch us money and then escort us to this most respectable bar, well Jonesy, it does not get any better than that.

“No it does not,” Jonesy agreed, draining what was left of his beer.

“You see what happens,”O’Brien continued after taking a draught of beer. “Do your duty and you will be rewarded.

“Here is the evidence,” Jonesy agreed, holding up his refreshed mug of beer.

O’Brien drank to that, as a couple of passing young women caught his eye. With the brashness and libido of a soldier, he could not let them pass without casting his line. “We’ve just come back from fighting with Ethan,” he said, smiling and puffing out his chest a bit as he pointed to the cloth Cadet badge on his sleeve.

The two women looked at him, and then Jonesy, and continued on without slowing.

“To women!” O’Brien lifted his drink, in no way deterred. “They’re never as choosy at closing time”.

“No they are not,” Jonesy agreed, as he settled into his chair to indicate he was prepared to wait.

“I wonder if we can get a burger here”? O’Brien wondered, as he leaned over, looking towards the bartender.

It turned out they could, and the two enjoyed burgers and fries with their fourth beer. As they finished, O’Brien let out a huge belch in complement to the chef. He was feeling pretty satisfied, when a young man from the other side of the bar approached he and Jonesy.

“My girlfriend tells me you two have been fighting alongside Ethan”.

Both O’Brien and Jonesy looked the guy up and down, measuring him, as hardened soldiers will do.

“That’s right,” O’Brien replied eventually, feigning disinterest as hardened soldiers will do, and turning his attention back to his beer and having a drink.

“What was it like”?

“Like? You don’t want to ask that question,” O’Brien said, now finding solace in his beer”.

“The young man looked at the two ragged soldiers for a moment. He hadn’t noticed their pain when he first approached. “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, turning to leave. “Thank you for your service”.

“What’s it like to stand at the gates of hell? You may as well ask me that”. O’Brien replied, raising his voice so as not to lose his audience.

“Did you see any fighting”?

“Fighting!” O’Brien exclaimed. “What do you think you’re looking at here? I am a Cadet sir, trained by the Warriors of Tasha. Does the word ‘Front line” mean anything to you?

“You were on the front line”!

“Standing right beside Ethan and MIchael. I never saw another line ahead of us. Did you see another line, Jonesy”?

“No, I did not,” Jonesy replied.

“Wow!” their new acquaintance exclaimed. “You were with Ethan. You guys are gangster. What about those Demons we’ve been hearing about? Did you fight any of them”?

O’Brien’s expression turned serious. His trained eye scanned from one side of the bar to the other as if just the mention of Demons might conjure up skulking enemies within.

“Where’d you hear about Demons?” he asked, his voice as serious and alert as his expression.

“Oh. I don’t know,” the new guy replied, his voice sounding a little anxious like maybe he spoke out of turn. “Just rumors I guess”.

As much as his chair comfortably allowed,O’Brien leaned in to his new friend. The young man leaned in towards O’Brien.

“We fought them,” He began, barely above a whisper. He wore a horrored expression. From behind his eyes, he recalled the encounter. The new guy wondered if he had asked too much. After what might be close to a perfect pause for dramatic effect and another sip of beer, O’Brien continued.

“The day started like any other day. Jonesy and I were knee deep in minions and Nephilim, and that was right after our breakfast too. Of course they had Jonesy and me lead the charge. Like I said, it was just like any other day.

“As always, the fight was vicious and bloody. You haven’t seen the gang by any chance?” O’Brien asked before continuing.

“No. Just heard stories about it”.

“Well, let me tell you,” O’Brien continued, feeling he had just gained a little latitude. “Those stories are true and worse. It’s not enough, you have to deal with the minions. They’re mean, but the Nephilim are giants, towering over you. Capable of tearing a man in two! That’s how the day started’.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

As hoped for, O’Brien was drawing in a small crowd now. Not that he was a great story teller, but there wasn’t much going on in those days. The bar was a dive. Nothing more than a shanty with a handful of patrons. May as well spend the night listening to a drunk Irishman.

Truth be told, O’Brien could tell a pretty good story, and he didn’t mind being in the spotlight at all. The listeners tightened up the group and moved closer to O’Brien to make sure they heard everything. Even Jonesy was curious to hear what happened.

“First, we went in with our AK 47’s. Pow. Pow, Pow, Pow. Pow, Pow. Then as usual, they closed in on us, me and Jonesy cut off from the rest of our squadron, right in there in the middle of it all. With our hatchets drawn, we were fighting for our lives in close combat. It was then, when we were at our most vulnerable it happened”.

Now, O’Brien had grown silent again. Perhaps, he simply could not face the memory. The crowd moved in even closer.

“What happened?” Jonesy asked, impatiently.

“The swarm came,” O’Brien began. His voice was haunted by the memory. Drawing on everything he had heard about Demons, he continued “At first they were just like bees. Of course, their sting was lethal. Now, all of a sudden, we’re fighting Nephilim with one hand, and swatting away Demons with the other”.

“Then, they started growing, as they do when the swarm gets agitated, and that’s when you can see they were once living, breathing, Nephilim. They stare at you with those dead human eyes. The viciousness of those eyes alone is enough to send brave men running, but what could we do? Me and Jonesy were caught right in the middle of it. We had to stand our ground. What we did was we pulled out our Bowie Knives, which is something Ethan insists every Cadet carry with his, hers, or their…” O’Brien paused to signal how progressive a thinker he was, “hatchet”.

“Now I see you looking around, hoping to see our weapons hanging from our belts, but the truth is, we lost them in the battle. I assure you, we had them during the battle, and more than one Demon felt their sting”.

“How did you fight all of them off,” the new guy asked. He was clearly fascinated by O’Briens story.

“Yeah?” Jonesy added.

“We didn't. Not that day. Me and Jonesy fought to our last breath and that’s how they found us when the days fighting drew down. Me on the ground passed out with exhaustion, and Jonesy standing guard over me.

“Wow,” Jonesy uttered, taken by the ending of the story.

It wouldn’t be much of a reach to say he was as impressed as the rest of the audience with the story, maybe more. He had never imagined himself to be as heroic and self-sacrificing as he in actuality, turned out to be. His opinion of himself changed instantly and considerably. He raised himself a little straighter in his chair and projected a prideful, maybe a little stoic, look.

“That’s exactly how it happened,” he said, just rolling with the punches and not making a big deal of things. That’s how they could see what a badass he was.

“Are you going back?”

“Of course we’re going back. The battle’s just beginning. We’re headed back right after a little R & R,” O’Brien replied.

“But, they told us not to...” Jonesy began.

“Not to take too long,” O’Brien cut in. “That’s how much they need us”.

“Wow!” the young man exclaimed, completely blown away by the story and feeling privileged to have met the Cadets. “I wish I could go”. Then,”Guys,” he says to the crowd, “I say we pool our money together and make sure these Cadets don’t have to buy another drink for the rest of the night.

The Cadets were agreeable to the idea, and soon the beer was flowing. Now everyone was friends, and they cleared a little space for dancing, and O’Brien started things off by dancing a jig.

Everything was jolly until closing time neared, and O’Brien had danced all his beer up into his brain, and he became honery.

“You don’t think I could kick your ass,” he slurred belligerently to no one in particular. “I could kick your asses. All of you”!

“You there,” he said, pointing to the biggest guy. “Prepare to get your ass kicked. Just let me finish this beer first”.

“Now. Now,” says the young man he was pointing at, who happened to be the one to approach O’Brien and Jonesy in the first place. He had a kind face. A bit of a hick, but gentle looking. “You don’t have to fight here. You’re among friends now. Let me buy you another beer”.

“Friends?” O’Brien replied, looking at the crowd around him. “You're my friends?” he repeated. His eyes turned glassy. “I love you. Everyone of you,” he said, now full of love, and tried to kiss the girl standing closest to him. She wasn’t drunk enough yet, and pulled away. Maybe later.

O’Brien, prone to tears, was now openly crying. “I do it for you. I do it for you,” he gushed. O’Brien loved nothing more than a good cry, especially when he was on his face drunk. “If only my Mother could see me,” he said, as he made his way through the patrons, hugging and trying to kiss all of them.

Finally, the end of the evening arrived, and by that time O’Brien and Jonesy had decided they were going to head back to the battlefront, having forgotten they were told not to return. Determined as the first time they braved the Wilderness, they allowed their new young friend to join them for pizza before they set off. Not before procuring some weapons of course. Where they expected to find weapons at three in the morning, did not seem to concern them.

At the pizza parlor, the talk turned to returning to the front.

‘I sure wish I could join you guys,” their new friend anguished.

‘Why don’t you? Got no balls?” Jonesy asked.

“No. It’s not that. I don’t think I can leave Penny. I love her.

O’Brien thought about this for a moment. “You know”, he said finally. “There’s nothing that makes a woman more in love, than a man in uniform. You could be wearing this,” he said proudly pointing at his cloth Cadet badge. “Trust me. She’ll wait for you. I don’t like to brag, but Jonesy and I have women waiting for us at every stop from here to New York, and they’re faithful too, aren’t they Jonesy”?

“No, they are not?” Jonesy replied.

“You see?” O’Brien exclaimed. “What do you say? What’s your name is again”?

“Seth”.

No first names, Cadet”.

“Perkins”.

“Alright Perkins I am empowered to grant you Cadet status right now,” O’Brien pronounced, slamming his palm on the table.

“No, you are not,” Jonesy said.

“What do you say, Perkins? Are you man enough to be a Cadet”?

That’s how the evening ended. For the second time, O’Brien and Jonesy prepared to fight, marched into the Wilderness. Having learned from their first mistakes, they took precautions. Both had a case of beer under each arm. The young man, Perkins, had decided to join them. He was carrying the leftover pizza. Still no weapons.