Never Fall Down: A Novel by Patricia McCormick

to come rescue us.
     
    Now bullets also coming from behind. Real soldiers, finally, they shooting at Vietnamese and coming to save us. But some kid so scared, they go crazy; they try to escape, they run from these new bullets from behind, run to the Vietnamese side to get away. They got shot in front from Vietnamese, in back from Khmer Rouge.
     
    After, only six Little Fish survive. Me and Siv and Kha and three others, we huddle back at the camp, our bone chattering, waiting for the Khmer Rouge to tell us “good job.” But they don’t pay attention; they only want to talk to themself or maybe sleep. Later, the head guy, he walk past our group; now everyone asleep but me. “These little fish, we got to get more of them,” he says to another guy. “They good for catching the big fish.”
    I think about, long time ago, catching frog with Hong, how you put little frog on the string and wait for the big one to come eat him. And I understand now. We not real soldiers. We just bait.
     
    One day after fighting Sombo tells me to come with him. No big deal. Kha and Siv, they know I’m a little bit Sombo favorite, so they just close their eye to nap. When me and Sombo, we get to the edge of camp, I see group of kid. Little girl who carries the rice and other kid I never saw before. Sombo says we leaving this camp now to become a new group. I ask what about Kha and Siv, but Sombo, he doesn’t say anything. He says only march, and he keep his shark eyes on me so I don’t look back.
    Like brother to me, Siv and Kha, And not even a chance to say good-bye.
     
    Many day walking, through rice fields and also forest, hottest time of the year, no rain, the sun like fire on our skin. Our leg like wood, our mouth like dust. All of us carry a heavy gun; but the girl who carry the rice on her head, she also has a hard job and is just little kid. Sometime her knee wobble under this heavy load, and sometime I carry the sack for her. Always this girl walk behind me now. “You have like magic power,” she tell me one time. “All this shooting and never do you get hurt. So I stay near you and maybe nothing bad will happen to me.”
    Finally, after two day walking, we get to the new camp. New job now for the Little Fish. We stay in trench, deep trench, near the road, wait for Vietnamese to come. We hear them coming, we jump out and shoot. Like before, real soldier stay behind. Little Fish go out front.
    We dig this trench ourself, then hide there, take turn sleeping. But three boy in my trench, all of us, we too scared to sleep. One boy, he sings very quiet, a baby song, like lullaby, a song for learning the numbers, over and over. The other boy, he pick small bugs from his hair and eat. I lie in this trench and think: maybe this is my grave.
     
    All night is very quiet. Only maybe some cricket. Then you hear it. Bird screeching very loud. Next you feel it. Earth shivering. Because tanks are coming. Bird is the first warning. Bird knows to fly away from this fight coming.
    Because Vietnamese, they have tank, cannon, many soldier, and rifle that shoots one hundred bullets with no stopping. We just kid with old gun. Shoot only one bullet each time.
    Never before I been so afraid. At the camp you afraid all the time, because any time you can die. From starving, from diarrhea, from ax. But I learn a way to stay alive there. I learn to play my music, do what the Khmer Rouge say, never make them mad. And somehow—some good luck, some good thinking, also maybe some good trick—I stay alive.
    Now no good thinking, no good trick can help. And I think: why I stayed alive? Only so I can die today?
     
    We jump out of the trench and into so many bullet it’s like rain. But we too scared to shoot, only hide in the grass. Then I feel wetness on my cheek, something warm. I touch; and on my hand is blood. I look at the singing boy and see that half of his face now missing; and all on my neck, in my hair, is blood and brain and tiny piece of bone.
    The