The Fort (Aric Davis)

sun. The fort rarely got hot, not truly hot, but it was all but roasting inside this morning. Luke groaned and sat up, then finished the last of the warm Coke he’d brought the day before. It was flat and hot, but better than nothing. Then he took the gun Scott had taken and slid it into his pocket, walked to the ladder, and began to slowly climb down.
    It was early, but not too early, and he knew that if he didn’t go to that house soon and knock, he’d lose his nerve. If his mom had finally called him in as a runaway, getting picked up with a gun was going to be bad. Letting his friends down because this seemed even scarier now than it had before would be even worse.
    He was, after all, the only one of them who could do this. The cops didn’t believe them, their parents didn’t believe them, his friends were locked away. So Luke felt as if he had no choice but to knock on that door and then decide if he knew what was going on. Still, as he stepped from the ladder to the forest floor, he felt pure terror. His world was changing, and not for the better. The gun had grown yet heavier overnight, and this felt all too real.
    He strode through the trees, feeling as though he’d spent the last few days as a ghost, unsure of what he was looking for or why he was even alive at all. The woods were vibrant and alive, and even with the potentially dangerous task before him, Luke felt more in tune with the world than he could recall ever having felt in his life. By the time his feet were on the blacktop headed to Hooper’s house, Luke no longer felt scared, nor did he feel like some comic-book version of himself. This was real, and it was something he needed to do.
    The house loomed before him in a way that Luke figured was happening to no one else. The closer he got to it, the more mysterious it appeared, turning from just another house in the suburbs into something more than the sum of its parts. If we’re right, that will always be the house where a kidnapped girl was held. The neighbors will tell stories until it’s eventually torn down, and whether they rebuild or it remains an empty lot, for as long as this street remains, that will be a marked spot. It was almost like seeing something that shouldn’t have been there, like something impossible. Finally, deciding he was making too much out of it, Luke walked to the front door.
    His heart was thrumming in his chest as he knocked on the door with his left fist. His right hand was wrapped tightly around the pistol in his pocket. He waited a few seconds and then heard a loud thump from inside the house, along with someone groaning. The door swung open quickly, and Luke knew at once that he’d picked the right house, and that he’d also made a horrible mistake.
    The man standing in the doorway was wearing an army uniform that was ill fitting. Too tight across the belly and chest, but loose in the arms. The pants had been slit up the right leg, and Luke could see puffy, black-and-blue flesh with red tendrils of infection crawling up and out of sight. The man was holding a large black pistol, with an impossibly huge hole at the end of it. His finger was on the trigger, and the gun was shaking. “VC motherfucker,” the man said. “Zipper-head cocksucker.” He grabbed Luke’s arm, and Luke was fumbling with the gun as he was dragged into the house. The man slammed the door behind them, and no one saw any of it.
    Luke landed on the floor, and he fought his pants for the revolver. Finally the gun came free and clattered to the floor. The man looked at Luke over his gun, and then to the pistol, back and forth. Luke dove for the weapon, and the man said, “If you touch that heater, I’ll put one in your back, Charlie.” His voice was gravelly and thick, like he had a mouth full of syrup and marbles. Luke left the gun where it was and sat up, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
    “Where are the rest of you?” the man asked, and Luke just shook his head. “Where are the rest of the VC? Where are they? I know you were on that sniper team. But guess what? I’m not dead. You missed, VC motherfucker.” The man spit on the floor. It was thick and yellow, as though the infection in his leg were eating him up from the inside. Luke ignored it and began trying to inch slowly toward the gun. “Tell me, you fuck. Slope motherfucker. How many are you? What is the plan?”
    Luke grabbed for the gun. There was a noise in the room like thunder,