Excerpt: stories from a dark alley

Excerpt from "Blood of the Air" --

"I'll tell you where I am unlucky," Petersen added, half-laughingly, half-confidingly. "In love."

Caje looked up sharply, his expression unreadable.

"It's true," Petersen said. "I'm not the kind of guy some nice girl wants to bring home to meet her folks. I'm too big or too rough or...." He grinned suddenly. "Maybe if I wore glasses or something. Dames go for that kind of thing, don't they?"

Women were a frequent downtime conversation subject, a normally safe topic they all had in common. It didn't surprise Saunders at all. However, Petersen had no way of knowing his timing couldn't have been worse. Saunders watched Caje growing more and more uncomfortable, short fuse getting shorter. Saunders wanted nothing more than to spend the next five minutes relaxing, but he hitched himself up straighter, watching for trouble. Not that Sgt. Petersen couldn't handle himself if Caje did blow up -- his sheer bulk guaranteed that, if nothing else -- but a scuffle or raised voices out here put them at too great a risk. Saunders wasn't about to take that chance just because of a carelessly timed conversation.

"Hey, LeMay. How's speaking French work?" Petersen asked. He'd scooped up a handful of tiny pebbles, was tossing them one by one into bushes.

"What does it matter?"

"I'm just asking. I was down in Italy, picked up a little Italian, but I just can't get the hang of French. Maybe when we get back, you and me can hit the town. There's some pretty girls there. With your language skills--"

"No," Caje said, and turned his back on the sergeant.

Petersen stared stonily at him a moment, his eyes narrowed. "Why not? You're not light on your feet, are you?"

Caje swung around angrily, eyes blazing. If he'd had a cigarette in his hands, Saunders knew the scout would have just crushed it beyond recognition.

Petersen held up his hands, palms facing outward. "Sorry. You must be married then? One of those faithful types?"

"No," Caje said coldly. "But if I was married, I would be one of those 'faithful types.'"

"That figures," Petersen said. He tossed another pebble into the bushes. "Where's the fun in that?"

Saunders decided he'd better head off this conversation fast. "We're not over here for fun, Petersen. We're here to win this war and get home in one piece again. That's all."

Petersen looked between Saunders and Caje, then shook his head and said sourly, "Couple of squares, you two, you know that? I could build a house that'd last a hundred years on your principles and morals. But I'll tell you one thing, I sure wouldn't have a good time doing it."