Kill Zone (A Spider Shepherd Short Story) - Plot & Excerpts
Afghanistan. Spider Shepherd squatted on his heels outside his tent, drinking his first brew of the day from a battered mug as he watched the wind stirring dust devils from the dirt floor of the compound. The dust covered every surface, leaving everything as brown and drab as the wintry Afghan hills that surrounded him. Unshaven and wearing a tee-shirt and fatigues worn and sun-faded from long use, Shepherd drank the last of his brew and tossed the dregs into the dirt. ‘Why does a brew never taste right out here?’ he asked. Sitting next to him with his legs outstretched was Geordie Mitchell, an SAS medic who was a couple of years older than Shepherd. ‘That’d be one of those rhetorical questions, would it?’ said Geordie. He had a floppy hat pulled low over his head. His hair was thinning and his scalp was always the first area to burn under the hot Afghan sun. Shepherd stood up and stretched. ‘It just never tastes right, that’s all.’ ‘It’s because we use bottled water, plus the altitude we’re at affects the boiling point of the water, plus the milk is crap.
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