Demon Camp: A Soldier's Exorcism by Jennifer Percy Page A

inside, she grabbed one of the men by his uniform, pushed him in the laundry room, and said, I know, I know. Don’t say anything. I know.
    She keeps Steve Reich’s Night Stalker helmet in the living room. It looks like a helmet built for deep-sea diving or space exploration. She was disappointed the army didn’t let her keep the night vision goggles. When Halloween comes around, sometimes she puts on a fancy dress, slips the helmet over her head, and wanders the streets, masquerading as the dead.
    The parents of Marcus Muralles, when they learned of their son’s death, requested that the street names in their neighborhood no longer be named after trees but after dead soldiers. Elm. Maple. Oak. Why not the dead? Now his mother can see the sign for Muralles Street outside her window, just across Interstate 74, into the Marin Estates apartment complex. Sometimes they go visit the street. She takes pride in picking up litter on the street named for her son. Because Muralles was buried far from Ohio, in Arlington Cemetery, she’s never been able to see his grave. Instead she hired a woman to take photos of the grave and she looks at these photos instead.
    Leslie Ponder covered Tre Ponder’s grave site with brightly colored marshmallow Peeps.
    Shamus Goare had a little brother named Cory who worked at an industrial factory. One year and two months after the Chinook crashed, Cory died. A machine pinched his head. The brothers were born thirteen months apart and they died fourteen months apart. Their family called the two of them mashed potatoes and gravy. Cory’s wife thinks he wasn’t paying attention because he was too sad about Shamus’s death. Judy blames Marcus Luttrell for not killing the goat herders. She mentions that her son’s body wasn’t burned up as badly as the others.
    Because a crew card had been mailed back to Savannah listing the names of every soldier on the Evil Empire, Captain Brady’s wife believed her husband was dead. For forty-eight hours she lived in a soft, mournful world. The card was never updated with Major Reich’s name.
    When Brady returned home from the war in September 2005, he found an e-mail from Jill Blue in his in-box. When Major Reich went on dangerous missions, his e-mails rerouted to Brady. The e-mail was addressed to Major Reich. It was the only e-mail. He didn’t want to open it.
    Stephen, tell me you are okay? Tell me it wasn’t you? I need you now more than ever. I love you.
    Some members of Captain Brady’s platoon got out of the military. Some stayed and served and were killed. Some stayed and saw their buddies killed and then got out because they were thinking: When’s my time?
    At the SEAL 160 Ride, a memorial service honoring the fallen soldiers of Operation Red Wings, Captain Brady saw Jill Blue. It was the first time since Steve Reich died. He reached his arms out and held her. She said nothing.
    “I just want you to know,” he said, “that Major Reich died to save the wounded, and to bring our men home, and he did it out of a sense of duty and he will always be memorialized and remembered for his courage.”
    “I don’t care what you think,” she said. “I don’t care that my husband tried to save all those people. In fact, I think your motto is pretty stupid. Night Stalkers Don’t Quit . What does that mean to me? How does that help me? Is that what you guys do? Do you guys just keep doing things until you’re all dead? Because now my husband is dead. He’s dead because of you .”
    That’s when Captain Brady started having terrible dreams. No dream bothered him as much as this dream. The one he had on the fifth of August 2011.
    In the dream Major Reich stepped aboard a Chinook helicopter and he paused to look back at Brady. Then he started to burn. Major Reich was bursting into flames. His lips peeled back like wilted petals. “Brady,” Reich said, “I’ve got this one.”
    The next day a Chinook MH-47, the same chopper as the Evil Empire,