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    Dogs of War
    Dogs of War
    Dogs of War
    Ebook57 pages55 minutes

    Dogs of War

    By Nicolas Wilson

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    About this ebook

    Two explosive ordnance disposal soldiers, a man and his canine partner, nurse each other through injuries received on-duty.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNicolas Wilson
    Release dateMar 16, 2014
    ISBN9781497791343
    Dogs of War
    Author

    Nicolas Wilson

    Nicolas Wilson is a published journalist, graphic novelist, and novelist. He lives in the rainy wastes of Portland, Oregon with his wife, four cats and a dog. Nic's work spans a variety of genres, from political thriller to science fiction and urban fantasy. He has several novels currently available, and many more due for release in the next year. Nic's stories are characterized by his eye for the absurd, the off-color, and the bombastic. For information on Nic's books, and behind-the-scenes looks at his writing, visit nicolaswilson.com.

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      Book preview

      Dogs of War - Nicolas Wilson

      Dogs of War

      by Nicolas Wilson

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Dogs of War

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Other Works by Nic

      Coming Soon

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter One

      I couldn't stop thinking about the bomb last week. I was close enough to feel the heat of it, close enough to smell the explosives even before the scent of burning overtook it. I didn't need to be close to hear Hercules' and Hector's screams as they died, as the fire swallowed the air coming out of their lungs and their first cry of shock and pain cut off abruptly as heat burned its way down their throats. The next yelp was smaller, shorter, weaker than the first; I was close enough to hear that one, too.

      I stumbled on a little crack in the road, and tried to remind myself that Iraq was no place to be distracted.

      EOD, came over the radio, from Sergeant Brent, I thought, and my ears perked up, because that was us.Iraqi civilian reports an IED ahead.

      My partner in EOD, Samson, winced. How many times have I told them? Radio silence around IEDS. I fucking told them.

      Most Iraqi bombs anymore were more sophisticated than that, and wouldn't accidentally go off from a stray radio signal. But Samson was good at his job, and didn't want the occasional stray Iraqi blown up, even if that only happened some of the time.

      Brent was standing at the front of the truck with an Iraqi kid. Instinctively I took in the air around him, smelled for vapor wake- to see if the kid had been near explosives. It wouldn't be the first time a fresh-faced kid tried to lure us toward the bomb he got paid to set. But he was clean- or at least clean for an Iraqi kid in Muqdadiyah. It was still a war zone; power, in the places they had it, was intermittent, and access to fresh water wasn't in everybody's cards.

      Samson spoke enough of the language to ask the kid if he could show us where it was. The kid nodded his head, vigorously, and ran in front of the stationary Stryker.

      Take care, Brent said as we passed, and Samson winced; EOD techs tend to believe in luck, since that's usually the only thing standing between them and the monster. Wishing somebody luck was as likely to be unlucky; he'd rather get a Break a leg. But he didn't say anything. The loss of Corporal Carasco- Hector- and his partner weighed all of us down.

      Hector was still in the ICU. He'd probably make it, if you count living the rest of his life inside donated skin, and waking up every other night screaming in constant pain living. Herc didn't even last long enough for a MedEvac. Medics carried his corpse out on foot.

      I smelled it the moment we were out of the exhaust cloud from the idling truck. Either the bomb was a mess, explosives spilled all over, or my nose was even more attentive after Hector and Herc. The scent of it was strong enough that I couldn't tell if it was coming from the right or left side of the street. I said a little prayer that it wasn't both.

      My knees shook. I imagined what it was like to meet the monster in the hole, its black fingers curling

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