Green Inferno

Harry Lime's War Blog:

07.12.2010

We've been out here in the shit for days now, but it feels like seasons. Years, even. The quaint topography has grown into a twisted jungle canopy that feels like its growing denser around us. The heat is rising, the sun baking us, turning our skin to ash. The air is so thick that I have to choke out every breath that fills our collective lungs. Soon, what remains of us will be skeletal debris inside the flames of a green inferno. I know this because he knows this. It knows this, and the jungle knows this.

The platoon is dwindling. Karosene Joe disappeared first. All that we found that was left of him was his trusty Silverado flask, the one with the skeletal cowboys dancing drunkenly across the base. The paint thinner Kentucky moon shine it was once filled with, "The Kerosene" as Joe dubbed it, in keeping with his namesake, was had all but spilled from it unscrewed top.

"Painkiller" Jayne was next, a couple hours later. His fine black leather medical kit was ripped apart like grated cheese, and his scalpel was soaked in a neon green splash none of us could identify. It wasn't human, whatever it was.

"Sloop" John B. "Ratchet" Quagmire. Even the good, God fearing Corporal "Corinthian" Cleaver, a man whose combat record made Patton's ghost weep like a sinner in the hands of an angry Christ...

I fear they're all dead.

Now, its just me, the loathe "Howlin'" Harry, a coward more equipped with flight than might, and "Stagman" Landham, an unhinged Native American of nondescript origins with a passion for politics, scary laugh, and a history in the adult film industry he's tried to keep quiet since he got here. The two of us, despite our mutual differences, must stay together despite all odds. He's sleeping now. Soon, it'll be his shift, and tomorrow we can get out of this God forsaken Guatemalan hell hole.

Wait. I... I thought I saw something in the trees. Not a person, but a glimmer of light and then... maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. They took all us marines through the crazy paces when we signed up. I know I'm not shell shocked, not yet, but could this be a sign its starting? My mind is finally faltering. How else would I be hearing Jayne's whispers as I write this. I can't wake Landham up. Not yet. Not if I'm truly unhinged, as I think I finally am. No, I'll just walk over to the bush and see... see what's going on. After all, maybe Jayne got away. Maybe he found rescue, contacted home base. I'm just going to take a quick peak.

But wait. Its only now I realize that the Indian next to me isn't sleeping anymore. You'd have to be breathing to sleep. I'm not even going to grab for my gun, I'm just going to keep writing this blog and if it isn't finished, tell Jane for me, tell her I----

______________________________________________________

... I mean, I saw "Predators" over the weekend, and it was fucking awesome. Not flawless, but a badass sequel that, yes, is probably slightly better than Predator 2. But it doesn't have Mike Harrigan, so its not that much better. A near-classic sequel, and there you go.

ALSO, I got a job writing for DVD Verdict.com. I'm going to start on a probationary period to see I fit what they're looking for, but I feel pretty optimistic about it thus far. Apparently I have MTI Home Releases and Michael Dudikoff in my near future, according to a certain Newfoundland based Judge I know through Facebook (Steve T Power). I say... bring it on! I've loved the site since I was 14 and consider it an honor and a privilege to even get a shot at being on the team.

Tomorrow I have a job interview, finally and thanks to the help of my brother (who I owe a debt of gratitude if it pans out), which is pretty darned exciting, so I'm getting stoked for that.

This weekend I managed to work my way through over half of Silent Hill 3, which is scaring the bejesus out of me and lighting a fire in my pants to write and direct an experimental horror short with my OU video production cronies, Here's to hoping I can pan that abstract ambition out. I'm also eying the finish line for a Young Adult noir short story I've been working on for the past month or so, but am having a great deal of trouble finding my footing after a weekend-long vacation. Hence, the new blog AND some twenty minute writing exercises with my mucho talented life partner.

And finally, I have fully recovered from my experiences dog sitting for my parents. I have blogs chronicling my output which shall be posted later this week.

That's It.

Ain't Got Time To Bleed.

Harry Lime