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Remember me…Even when I’m gone

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– Sitting around the small makeshift table of crates and boxes, gunfire erupting in the distance. Lifting his gaze, Hawkins squinted into the fading sunlight. It was going to be darker, quicker than he originally thought, as he picked up the small makeshift plate and ate a crumbling piece of the MRE bread, over a day old, it was the last remnants of what they had to eat, and no one else really wanted the stale bread anyways. Sours and Bruce continued playing cards, as QuinCannon and LittleSun, chatted about home. –

 

-Bruce leaned over and grabbed his canteen, tipping it back, as he swallowed the tepid water. Placing the cap back in place, he grabbed his MP3 player and connected it to a small speaker. A familiar song came over the speaker, as the group finished what they had been doing, and begin grabbing their gear, weapons and armor. – The Wrong Side of Heaven – , Five Finger Death Punch..

 spoke to god today, and she said that she’s ashamed.

What have I become, what have I done?
I spoke to the devil today, and he swears he’s not to blame.
And I understood, cuz I feel the same.

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, righteous side of hell.

I heard from god today, and she sounded just like me.
What have I done, and who have I become.
I saw the devil today, and he looked a lot like me.
I looked away, I turned away

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, the righteous side of hell.

I’m not defending, downward descending,
falling further and further away!
Getting closer EVERYDAY

I’m getting closer every day, to the end.
The end, The end, the end, 
I’m getting closer EVERYDAY! 

Arms wide open, I stand alone.
I’m no hero, and I’m not made of stone.
Right or wrong, I can hardly tell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side of hell.
I’m on the wrong side of heaven, and the righteous side, the righteous side of hell.”

– As the music faded, they all stood facing each other, their circle complete, each man left with his own silence as he internally faced his fears and demons. Putting that all aside, the switch was being flipped, each man, each Ranger turning into what they were meant to be on the Field of Combat; War.-

– Hawkins raised his gaze, the hazel eyes flitting, from one person to the next. Making eye contact with each one man, he affirmed his confidence in each, with a strong, subtle nod. As each man nodded back, they all turned, one by one, and went to their appropriate gun truck, taking their place and loading their weapons. Hawkins would lifted his own M-4 Spartan, and tap the magazine atop his helmet. Slapping the magazine into the well, he yanked the charging handle back and listened as the BCG stripped a round from the magazine and loaded it. Death was ready, and the self proclaimed American Horsemen, were enroute to carnage that would either make them, or break them. Walking out into the fading light, the monocular Night Vision hardware was pulled over his right eye, and activated. It was time to stalk the night, and dare something to go bump…..

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