Invasion

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How did it ever come to this? thought eighteen-year-old Private Stephanie Roberts as she stared out at the dusty sandbagged roadblock that marked the new boundary carved into America.

Stephie, the youngest infantryman in the squad of nine and one of only two women, climbed aboard the truck. “I don’t trust you,” the hulking Animal said to her. At five-seven and 125 pounds, Stephie and her rifle were security for the lone machine gun attached to her squad. Attached to the machine gun was a 250-pound asshole who sank onto the bench seat beside Stephie. The white, former junior college football lineman was nineteen, but he had an emotional age of six. “I don’t trust split tails,” he whispered with breath that made Stephie wince, “so just stay the hell outa the way of my gun, or I might have to kill you to kill Chinese.” Her squadmates ignored her clash.

“Suits me fine,” Stephie replied. “And you stink.”

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