The artwork was a commission drawn by deermary over on Furaffinity.
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Alice leaned up against the edge of the berm, breathing through her nose and keeping as still as possible. She looked through the sight of her rifle with her right eye, keeping the other one open so she’d have a sense if someone approached from that side. She was well covered though, and it was unlikely the enemy knew she was here. With the end of her weapon resting on a mossy log atop the berm, she prepared for what would likely be a long wait.

Every few seconds, she silently adjusted the rifle to the left, and then the right. She was responsible for watching the grassland between her and the tree line, and relief wasn’t going to come for at least eleven hours. It was quiet here, other than the odd breeze disturbing the grass and foliage, or the chirp of distant birds. As she watched the peaceful meadow, adjusting herself to find the most comfortable spot, Alice couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift elsewhere.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to; an inattentive soldier often became a dead soldier. Still, this particular post was a tertiary scout position, well behind the furthest forward lines, and it rarely saw any action. After all, that’s why she was the only one out here at the moment, in the middle of the day.

Her wandering attention landed on the events of last night, as she mutely observed shadows falling sporadically on the grass from the partly cloudy sky above. She moved her weight to one foot, allowing the other to rest. It pounded painfully in the too-small boot.

What a fucking prick, Alice thought, anger rising in her gut. I hope Tom gets blown up out there.

The fact was, she wasn’t even supposed to be on this stupid extended watch. It was just punishment for the party last night. That’s why she hadn’t even been given a spotter. This wasn’t a real sniper post; it was a time-out corner. And she had that cunt Tom to thank for it. He was the only one of her squad who got asshurt that she and the rest were up celebrating. They had every reason! Their patrol had uncovered an attempt to install a machine gun entrenchment near Echo camp. Tom was the only one to refuse to join in their get-together after. He went and got some Captain Stick-Up-His-Ass to break them up, and the rest was history.

Oh fucking well, she thought, momentarily returning her focus to her “task” and sweeping her scope across the vast field. At least I didn’t end up on tree felling duty for Foxtrot camp like the guys. She had escaped the worse of it, she supposed.

Shifting her weight to the other foot, it seemed like a poor consolation. What kind of jackass punished a group of soldiers for some harmless fun celebrating a job well done, anyway?

Something moved in front of her, and she detected it with her other eye. Leaning back from her scope for a second, she saw a Monarch butterfly flutter down and land on the end of her rifle’s barrel. It flapped its wings slowly, apparently content on its metal perch.

She smiled at it, forgetting for a second her woes. It was like the kind of thing you read about in a war poem: the author would be making some pretentious point about juxtaposing the serenity of nature against man’s cruelty or some stuffy shit like that.

A gunshot rang out, making her jump in surprise. Her training didn’t allow her to panic, and so she lowered herself, putting her cheek back on the stock of the rifle and peering down the sight. The shot was pretty far away, from the direction of the forest across the meadow, but that was all behind their forward lines. Her ears perked as best they could under her helmet, and silence prevailed as seconds passed.

Then another shot sounded, a bit closer, then several more in quick sequence. If her ears were correct, and they usually were, she was hearing the sound of at least two different weapons. One sounded like her army’s standard issue infantry rifle, and the other…

Another shot, and this time she was sure. The other weapon she heard was of the caliber used prominently by the enemy. Their snipers often utilized it; one must’ve made his way between the lines and decided to take shots at something. One of her fellows must’ve returned fire.

Out of the corner of her non-scope eye, Alice detected movement in the trees. Adjusting at once, she scanned the edge of the forest, looking for the slightest sign of an enemy sniper. If he made it all the way here…

A shiver ran up her spine, and she contained it as best she could. This was supposed to be as safe as place as there was on the front. A time-out corner, she had called it. Now an image swam to mind unpleasantly of her taking a shot through the forehead from somewhere in the trees.

One more shot, and this one was right at the tree line somewhere. She zeroed in on its location, and placed her finger on the modified trigger. Tall grass was disturbed at the tree line. Someone was moving through it, and she tracked the movement, ready to fire.

Someone popped up from the grass, running perpendicular to her line of sight. Immediately, she squared her sight at the center of the target’s mass. Whoever it was wasn’t wearing a helmet, and didn’t appear to see her. He was fleeing, that was obvious. His uniform was torn and dirty, but appeared to be that of an enemy scout.

Hesitating no longer, Alice fired. Her shot was north of its target, and hit the running man in the neck. He dropped like a stone into the grass, and largely disappeared from view. Yes! she congratulated herself. He never had a chance!

Just as she was patting herself on the back, several more shots rang out from the trees. There was more movement, and it was clear someone was now behind one of the trees she could see clearly from here. This person was apparently aware of her, for perhaps he just saw his comrade get smoked in the grass.

A hand emerged from behind the trunk, red furred like hers. It made a series of deliberate gestures and signals, and she stopped looking through the scope. This was one of her soldiers, giving her the “Don’t shoot; I’m friendly” signs.

She poked her head fully above the berm, and bellowed as loud as she could: “COME ON OUT! I GOT HIM!”

It was hard to tell at first, but it looked as though her messaged had been received. Two people emerged from hiding, jogging toward her out of the trees. Briefly peering through her scope again, she verified that these were friendlies. Shouldering her rifle, she climbed out of her nest and broke into a light run, on a course to meet them. She was giddy with excitement, impressed with her shot from a hundred and fifty yards or so.

The two soldiers diverted toward where she had dropped the scout, and as they reached him, one bent down in the grass next to him. He was doing something with his hands, maybe checking him for orders or taking his weapon. As she moved toward them, Alice couldn’t help but notice the kneeling soldier was still fiddling with something, and she slowed to a power walk in order to see better.

He was bobbing up and down, while the other soldier looked on. Wait a moment…

He was doing chest compressions. She came to a stop fifteen feet away or so, and sure enough, she could see the rough outline of the man she shot, and her fellow soldier earnestly attempting CPR on him. The other grunt was looking right at her in horror. She didn’t recognize either of them, but the one standing up was a Corporal.

“What did you do?” he asked quietly as she walked forward again, dreading what she was going to see. “Did you shoot him?”

“I…” Alice’s attempt at an answer was cut off by the full view of her victim. He was one of them, all right. He was a fox as well, and with a terrible pang of guilt, she realized she knew him. This was Tom, her squad mate. She saw the hole in both sides of his neck, and realized why he dropped so fast: she had torn through his spine. There was an additional wound in his gut that bled through his shirt, but her’s was definitely the kill shot. He must’ve died before he hit the ground.

The soldier kneeling by him ceased his life-saving efforts, falling backward onto his butt. He looked up at her, blood on his face and hands. His expression was that of disbelief, and not understanding.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded, panting and shaking his head. “Why?”

All Alice could do was stare, her eyes moving between him and the dead, unseeing face of her former pain-in-the-ass comrade. “I didn’t mean to…” she said, for that’s all she could think of. She hadn’t meant to. His uniform was filthy, and the red bloodstain must’ve played a trick on her mind. He hadn’t looked like himself from all the way back in her nest.

The eyes of both soldiers were uncomfortably fixed on her. The first climbed to his feet, and stood considerably taller than her. He was still shaking his head, incredulous. He was a Sergeant, she now saw.

“We need to report this,” he said. “We need to get back to camp.”

Alice was snapped to her senses. “I thought he was an enemy scout… I heard shots.”

“There was a sniper,” the second soldier said, moving to her side. “He got him in the stomach. But we got him.” He gestured at the trees. “The guy’s body is back there.”

Alice was wide-eyed, and she couldn’t muster up a defense for herself.

“Give me your weapon,” the sergeant said, extending a hand.

She didn't, and instead backed up slightly. “I didn’t know…”

He drew his own rifle to his shoulder, and pointed it directly at her chest. She was so surprised, she froze.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Private,” he said. “Surrender your weapon. You just killed one of our own. You need to come with us.”

She was still rooted to the spot, but the other soldier moved suddenly, crossing the distance between them and seizing her rifle in both hands. He wrenched it from her, tearing the sling from her shoulder and retreated from her with the weapon. The sergeant stepped forward in that instant, gripping one of her wrists in one hand while he dug in one of his cargo pockets for something with the other.

“Give me your other hand,” he said gruffly, and she complied, still in total shock. She was just looking down at Tom, who lay silently in the grass. There was a massive crimson pool underneath him. Something clicked behind her, and her wrists were squeezed together tightly by what she recognized to be a zip tie.

Without speaking, the sergeant put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her forward. He moved purposefully along the tree line, with the corporal in tow, carrying both his and her rifle. They marched in silence, as nobody seemed to have anything to say. What was there to say, anyway?

They were moving toward Echo camp, likely where these two boys were from. They likely just wanted to report to their chain of command, even though she herself was based out of Delta camp.

Alice just hung her head the whole time. Shock was turning into horror with every step, and guilt tore through her flesh, wringing her insides. How had things gone like this, and so quickly? Her life had been turned upside down in a single split second.

The perimeter fence of Echo camp came into view after twenty minutes, and they walked right through the guard station. Drawing stares from the dozens of men walking around, they proceeded inward, past tents and makeshift buildings, on their way to the very center. There was a command building there, and that was the obvious destination.

The three of them stopped outside the main building’s entrance, and the sergeant leading her spoke up.
“Keep her here,” he said to the guards flanking the door. “We need to speak with Major Darren.”

“What happened?” One of them, a Private First Class, inquired.

“That’s for the Major’s ears only,” came the response. The guard acquiesced, and took hold of Alice while her two companions headed inside. She stood quietly as several soldiers looked at her while they passed by.

After only a couple minutes, the door opened, and her arresting sergeant poked his head out at her. “Come in, Private,” he said with dead seriousness.

She did, and found herself ushered forward as soon as she crossed the threshold. The sergeant pulled her helmet roughly off her head as she entered. She was maneuvered to a desk off to the left, where sat an older fennec.

“Sergeant Holden’s just let me know what happened out at Nest Three,” he said, his voice strangely high. “You may go, Sergeant,” he added, looking over her shoulder.

“Tell me what happened,” he said kindly.

“I don’t know, sir,” Alice said, her voice shaky. She did her best to stand at attention despite her tied hands. “I heard several gunshots that I perceived to be from the enemy. I saw movement in the bushes, and them someone came running out.”

“Did you identify who it was?”

“No, sir. I thought from his uniform that he was an enemy scout. Once I made that determination, sir, I fired.”

The fennec Major nodded sadly. “This is very serious. According to Sergeant Holden, the man you fired at was a Private Niles. He was one of us.”

She nodded, looking at the floor. “I know, sir,” she said miserably. “He was in my squad.”

“Really?” That seemed to surprise him. “And you didn’t recognize him? That’s a damn shame…” His voice trailed off. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.”

She nodded again, not looking at him. She felt like crying, but that wasn’t what she did. Perhaps she was just too out of her mind.

“I wish there was something I could do for you,” he continued. “But this is going to be up to your commanding officer. Who do you belong to?” She told him.

“Under Colonel Miller?”

Alice swallowed hard. The fierce face of her wolf commander flashed to the front of her mind. “Yes, sir.”

The fennec sighed. She could guess why, given the Colonel’s reputation. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to refer this to him, since both you and the deceased were under his command. We’ll have a jeep come and pick you up and bring you back to Delta. Meantime, I want you to take a seat in the waiting area by the door.”

She looked at him finally, and there was pity written on his face. She mumbled another “Yes, sir,” before turning on her heels and walking alone to the few wood chairs near the reception desk at the door.

Sitting down, and leaning forward, wishing she could put her head in her hands, Alice couldn’t remember ever feeling worse in every way possible. She was guilty for killing her squad mate, of course, but it was far more than that. All she had done was talk shit about him, and now that made her feel even worse. Not only that, but there was no telling what Colonel Miller was going to do to her when he found out.

I’m going to prison, an intruding thought said. I’m going away for a long time. Maybe forever.

She didn’t have long to wallow in misery, because just a few minutes later, she was hauled into the passenger seat of a jeep driven by another private, a kid named Walters. They set off under the cool breeze and pleasant sunlight of the early afternoon, a day she certainly would’ve enjoyed if things were different. She found herself longing for the punishment watch she’d been on, and fantasized about waking up to find she’d fallen asleep at her post. It would make logical sense, she told herself, attempting to will that into becoming reality. She had been bitching about Tom, so it made sense to have a nightmare about him.

She didn’t wake up, of course. They rumbled along an uneven dirt road through the thick forest, bouncing up and down in their seats as they headed for Delta camp. After a few minutes more, an odd smell found its way to Alice. It was smoke, and it was strong.

Walters seemed to detect it at the same moment, for both of them began looking around for the source.

A distant boom echoed from somewhere in front of them, and they both snapped their heads forward toward the source. It was then that Alice noticed a plume of black, billowing smoke above the trees in the direction of her camp.

“Do you see that?” she said to Walters. He was looking right at it.

“Yea,” he said back. “That’s not Delta camp, is it?” He sounded frightened. Several more, equally far away explosions sounded from the same direction.

“Step on it!” she half-shouted at him. “They might need us!”

Walters punched it, and they flew toward their destination as fast as they could. As they got closer, it became more and more obvious that the smoke was coming from Delta camp, and that only made them more anxious. For Alice, it was a welcome change from the abject misery she’d been stuck in. She couldn’t stand the thought of losing any more of her squad, but perhaps if the Colonel was incapacitated…

They turned a final corner in the forest road, and saw the carnage that had been Delta camp. Gunshots rang out in a mixed cacophony, and she could see at least a dozen buildings and tents on fire.

They drove right through the perimeter fence, where no guards were currently stationed. They must’ve been fighting, and as the camp became properly visible, she could see people running everywhere. Shots still sounded from somewhere, and Walters pulled forward, though it was unclear where he was going.

“Pull over!” Alice shouted. “We need to—”

She was interrupted by a hail of bullets striking the front of the jeep. Several passed through the windshield, missing them by inches in some cases. Walters yanked the wheel hard to the right, and she nearly flew into his lap as the vehicle turned so sharply it nearly flipped over. The wheels broke loose in the dirt, and as he tried to correct, the jeep slid right into the side of a burning building. The front end smashed through the wall, and part of the fiery roof collapsed on the hood, threatening to set the whole car on fire.

The two of them bailed out of their respective sides, Walters stepping over the door and Alice falling ungraciously to the dirt. She hit the side of her face, unable to catch herself. As she tried to stand, more fire hit Walter’s side of the jeep, and she saw him collapse to the ground like a sack of potatoes. She could seem him, from the gap under the jeep. He was facing her, open mouthed and surprised. Half of the top of his head, including one of his eyes, was completely gone. A puddle of blood formed under him and spread out.

Gasping in panic, Alice scooted backward on her rear, desperate to get away from there. She slid around the side of the building, where the incredible heat felt as though it would set her ablaze just by proximity. Snatching her head around, there were bodies everywhere, some were her people and some weren’t.

Gunshots still echoed around, but they were fewer as the seconds passed. Oh god. Had they lost?

Someone came sprinting around the corner of the building, and nearly tripped over her. Her heart flew up into her throat, but it was a friendly, a coyote. A staff sergeant, and he looked down at her in total confusion before pulling her to her feet. Now that she saw who it was, she felt intense relief. She knew him; he was in command of the Military Police for the camps Delta though Foxtrot. His reputation preceded him, and she could hardly be safer with anyone else.

“Keep your head down!” Staff Sergeant Ayers said. “We’re pushing them back, but they’ve still got a little nest over by the command building!”

Alice obeyed, and followed her savior back the way she came. They turned away from where the jeep wreckage was, taking a roundabout way toward the center of camp. The staff sergeant had a submachine gun, which he carried at the ready. They skirted around toward the command building, using the still-slowing gunfire as a guide.

He turned a corner, and then immediately jumped back behind the cover of a tent when a smattering of bullets attempted to greet him. He put a hand on Alice’s chest, and pushed her backward onto her butt.

“Stay here!” Ayers hissed, and then, staying low to the ground, darted out from behind the tent again, sliding behind a pile of sandbags not far away. From there, she observed him poke his head above just enough to take aim and return fire.

His every shot hurt her ears, and she moved back from the engagement. After several exchanges between he and his target, he stood up suddenly. Abandoning his cover completely, he peered out at something, and lowered his gun. He stepped forward and out of sight, and she could only assume that it was safe to come out.

So, clambering to her feet with difficulty, Alice followed out from behind the tent, and took in the full scene at last. No shots rang out at all now, and there was panicked chatter from every direction.

The command building was a smoldering ruin. It was just a blackened shell with a collapsed roof, and there didn’t appear to be anything or anyone surviving within. Ayers was over by an overturned jeep, and was inspecting the bodies of two individuals. Hyenas, by the look of them. Standard infantry for the enemy.

Alice waddled awkwardly over to the staff sergeant, stepping over chairs, tables, boxes, and equipment that lay scattered everywhere.

“Pieces of shit,” he growled as she neared him. He yanked one of their weapons, a portable machine gun, out of the death grasp of its former owner. He let it fall to the side, and spat on the face of the conquered soldier. Then turning to her, he seemed to really regard her for the first time.

“I know you, don’t I?” he said. “Why are your hands bound?”

In spite of herself, and everything that had happened, Alice felt herself blush, and words failed her. She looked away from his intense gaze, preferring to stare at the partially burned ground.

“Private!”

She looked up at him obediently. He was looking her right in the face, and she just wilted under his stare.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she forced out. “I was out on watch, and there was a friendly fire incident. I was being returned here when we stumbled on the attack.”

The staff sergeant’s eyebrows raised and nearly disappeared under the rim of his helmet. “What the fuck happened? Wait—” He stopped himself. “We’ll deal with that later. What’s your name?”

Feeling slightly disappointed that he didn’t know it already, she spoke. “Private Grant.”

“Grant?” Staff Sergeant Ayers looked away for a second, appearing to think. “Alice, right? You’re in Roberts’s squad, aren’t you?”

With a little flutter in her stomach, she answered. “Yes, sir.”

He looked around, taking in the scene and seeming to think again. “Alright,” he said after a second. “Come with me. I saw the Colonel just a bit ago. We’ll let him decide what to do with you for now.”

They set off together toward the far end of the camp. Along the way, he asked her what happened, and she recounted the tragedy with shame.

“Fucking shit,” he said in a low voice. He shook his head. “That’s awful.”

She wasn’t sure what position he was taking, but as she wondered, he clapped her on the shoulder.

“Chin up,” he told her. “It’s fucked up, and I’m not going to tell you it’s ok. That was as bad a mistake as you could’ve made. That said, it’s over. You can’t take it back. Just take your punishment on the chin, and move on. That’s all you can do.”

“Yes, sir.”