Stryker: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale Read Online Free PDF

entire thing was about but decided to match silence with
silence. As they stared at each other over two beer mugs, Keynes sighed and
said, “You like my truck?”
    “Yes,” Stryker answered, still wondering
what this was all about.
    “That’s my retirement present to myself.
I’m putting in my papers after twenty years of service. Do you want to know why?”
    “I don’t really care.” He was growing
tired of whatever game the sergeant was playing.
    “I get that you’re angry with me because
I treated you harshly,” he said, holding one hand up when Stryker was forming a
reply. “Just hear me out. I’ve only known two men who didn’t break down in some
way or another over the course of basic. I’m looking at one of them right now.”
    “Who was the other one?”
    “You’re looking at him right now.”
    “Is this supposed to be a compliment?”
    “It’s a statement of fact. You’re the
first recruit I wasn’t able to break and remake, and I’ve seen a lot of
recruits. To tell you the truth, I love making Marines. It’s a noble thing to
do; but it takes a lot of energy and I guess meeting you convinced me that it’s
time to go. I’m close to mandatory anyway, so I’m leaving.”
    “Look at me,” Stryker said. “Do I look
breakable to you? I’ve not met three people in my life that I might be afraid
of. I’m not breakable.”
    “That’s why we’re here. I want to talk to
you about your future in the Corps. I want you to consider applying for Force
Recon. Just look at me. It has nothing to do with strength or size. It’s that
you have the two qualities a Recon Marine has to have. You don’t have an ounce
of quit in you, and you’re smart.”
    Stryker looked away for a moment but
felt a surge of excitement at the idea of joining the most elite fighting force
in the world. He had long wanted to be Recon, but thought he had to complete a
tour in the Corps before he could apply.
    “I’m not sure that’s possible.”
    “It is.” Keynes pulled an envelope from
his back pocket and laid it on the table between them. Stryker opened it and
unfolded the document. After reading carefully, he looked up and said, “These
are orders for assignment to Recon.”
    “They are.”
    “How did you get them?”
    “I made some calls. As former Force
Recon, I still have many friends over there; so I called in some favors. If you
want in, you’re in. If not, tear up the orders. You’ve got some leave now so
use the time to study up on Recon and don’t let yourself get out of shape.
Right now, you’re a pretty well-honed knife. If you join, you’ll become a razor
blade. The problem is, even though you got through basic, it didn’t do what it
should have done for you. You should have been challenged by it and you
weren’t. You breezed through it without even straining yourself and you’ll
never know what kind of man you can be if you don’t find something that
pressures you to your limits. But think it over and let me know next week.” He
raised his mug in a toast, and they both emptied their mugs and ordered
another.
    “Okay, and thanks for doing what you
did.” Stryker felt odd; he suddenly liked a man he gladly would have beaten to
death a few minutes earlier.
    “I didn’t decide to give you the orders
until this morning.”
    “Why? This must have taken weeks to get
through.”
    “I saw you stop and pick up two recruits
that had given up at the end of the Crucible. You held them up as you ran until
they found the will to finish.”
    “Other guys did that too.”
    “They did. But they did it because the
guy who was struggling was their friend. They were people they enlisted with,
or guys they hung out with. You didn’t hang out with anybody.”
    “I’m sort of a loner. And I guess I’m honored
by the idea that you went to this much trouble to get me in.” Stryker shrugged,
then added, “thank you.”
    “You helped men because they were trying
to become fellow Marines. They helped