Strays by C. Alexander London

Author:C. Alexander London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2013-10-05T04:00:00+00:00

The village wasn’t much to look at. High hedges ringed it on three sides, and only the moldering ruins of an old Buddhist temple could be seen poking over the top. Its spire was crumbling, its statues long gone.

The tangle of hedges opened into a central clearing with a long, low concrete building at the far end. It had a front porch with high columns. Other buildings with tin roofs were scattered around the big building, and narrow paths cut between them. The smallest buildings had thatched roofs; they were more like huts, made from the same mud that was caked on the soldiers’ pants and that was packed into the roads. The muddy ground was puddled with footprints, but Chuck and the others couldn’t see any of the people who had made them.

“They’re here,” said Double O as they fanned out in a line and walked across the clearing. They held their weapons low but ready. “They’re just hiding.”

Ajax was on high alert, walking close to Chuck’s side, his nose twitching in the air, pulling in all the village smells — wood smoke from cooking fires, rotting garbage and decay, human waste and sweat. It was a poor village, but it smelled lived-in.

“It’s creepy,” said Billy, “knowing we’re being watched.”

“Well, Sir Knight,” said Doc. “What now?”

“Hello!” Chuck called out. “Anybody? We need some help!”

The dark doorways stayed dark. The village answered with silence.

“I guess they never read that book of yours,” said Billy.

Chuck looked down at Ajax. The hair on his back was sticking up. His tail was pointed. He was signaling that there were people there. His low growl told Chuck there were a lot of them. Why wouldn’t they show themselves?

The Americans were there to help, after all. They were supposed to be the good guys in this part of the country. Of course, the VC had friendly villages all over the south of Vietnam. It was hard to tell who was a good guy and who was a bad guy, when they all dressed the same and spoke the same language and lived in the same villages.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” said Double O, stopping and letting out a long sigh. He bent down and set his gun carefully on the ground, then stood again and raised his hands in the air, palms open. “We come in peace!” he yelled.

Doc nodded. He didn’t have a gun to put down, but he held his hands up high too, to show he meant no harm. Chuck looked at Billy, who shook his head slightly, his eyes wide.

“No way,” he mouthed.

Chuck nodded slowly and set his own rifle down on the ground. “Sit,” he commanded, and Ajax sat. “Lie down,” he said. Ajax looked up at him, puzzled. “Lie down,” Chuck repeated.

Ajax groaned, but he settled down into the mud, fighting all his instincts to hop up and bark and snarl.

“Good boy,” Chuck said.

“I changed my mind,” said Billy. “This is crazy. This could be a VC village. Communist sympathizers.

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