Knife (9780698185623) Read Online Free PDF Page B

and the operators did so, spreading their belongings along the floor and canvas seats as if they were claiming territory in a dorm room. The other twenty men, of the other squadron, would do the same on the remaining two C-17s.
    Shaw found a couple seats next to the shitter. He grabbed the seat closest to the plastic door and settled in to the canvas, Ambien in hand. He tried not to sleep a whole lot and didn’t feel like tripping, so he aimed to trade. Some guys would give almost anything for the pills. Most men wanted as many pills as possible, but hounding medics would give off the impression of an aspiring doper, so they would get thrifty and trade among themselves. Hagan stood in front of Shaw right away. Hagan did not believe in caution.
    â€œNeck pillow,” he said. “Neck pillow for your poppers.”
    He thrust the black-padded crescent at Shaw, hadn’t even sat down yet. Shaw nodded and tossed Hagan a pack and Hagan lobbed the pillow at Shaw’s chest. Hagan took a seat across the aisle. He sat smiling and lusting at the packets, like they had naked women pasted on the plastic. Shaw sat on the pillow and waited for his ass to go numb as Massey moved Shaw’s pack off the seat next to him and yelled over to Hagan.
    â€œDid you trade with him, Hog?” Massey pointed his thumb at Shaw.
    Hagan nodded and Massey asked for all of Shaw’s packs. Shaw gave Massey the four he had left after trading and Massey held them up for Hagan to see.
    â€œOh, fuck you, butt buddies.”
    Hagan flicked them off from across the aisle and Shaw laughed.
    â€œGive him a couple more, Mass,” Shaw said.
    Massey threw two packets across the aisle and shouted over the awakening engines. “Don’t take more than three at once or they’ll kill you.”
    Hagan grabbed the three packs and mocked swallowing them all together. “Better these than Hajji.”
    The ramp closed and guys started clearing space with their feet, calling spots on the floor and laying down their sleeping nests. Massey let himself sink into the canvas seat and drummed his fingers on his thighs. He looked at Shaw.
    â€œI feel old, man. Tired.”
    â€œWe are old,” Shaw said. He put a chew in, a lighter one so he’d have less to worry about if he fell asleep, and tried to get comfortable in the canvas with the pillow under his ass. “And did you pop already?”
    Massey nodded.
    â€œThen there you go, bud. Shit’ll make you drowsy before you nod off.”
    Shaw offered him his pouch and Massey shook his head.
    The metal clicks of belts buckling spread through the cabin of the aircraft and conversations died down. Everything seemed quiet for a second and then the frame of the bird shook as the engines fired up and drowned out the remaining voices. Guys shifted in their seats and ran things through their hands: rosaries, pictures, bullets that had been shot into their bodies and dug out by doctors, and other small stuff that wouldn’t make much sense to anyone who wasn’t holding it for luck. Shaw saw one guy holding a small pink blanket and running his fingers over a matching beaded bracelet on his wrist. Shaw remembered hearing about the daughter that’d just made the man a father a couple weeks ago. Dalonna had his eyes closed with some pictures on his lap and Cooke ran his fingers softly over his weapon, like it was an old guitar. Everyone looked at peace, calm.
    Shaw didn’t have anything to run through his fingers, but he was into smells during the fall in the South. The air is sweeter that time of year to a Yankee, especially when there’s still a little heat left before the winter arrives and the leaves are starting to burn. He couldn’t get enough of it the last couple weeks in September, had the windows open in his room at night and rolled down in his truck all the time. It was clean air. Pure. So he inhaled hard and tried to find any fresh air through