by Megan Green
I pull off my helmet and lean against a building. I yell out to the rest of my troop, letting them know I’ve stopped to rest.
Rhodes runs back to me. “What’s up?”
“Too fucking hot. I need a break for a sec.” I slide down the wall and plop onto my ass. Rhodes slides down next to me and pulls his helmet off too. He unscrews the lid off a water bottle and takes a huge gulp. He passes it to me without a word.
I grab it greedily and finish it off. “Thanks, man. Can’t even think straight. This heat is killing me today.”
Sarge comes over to see how we’re doing. “Okay, boys? You look like hell, Porter.”
I’m so out of it I don’t even really register this comment for a few seconds. “Thanks, Sarge. You always know just the thing to make a guy feel better.”
He shrugs. “Ain’t my job to make you feel good about yourself. You want that, you should have joined the peace corps. How many fingers?”
He’s waving his hand in front of my face. I can’t focus on his fingers. All I see is a flesh-colored blur before my eyes. “Umm, four?”
He swears under his breath. “There’s only two, son. We need to get you indoors and cooled down. I think you’re getting heat stroke.”
He whistles and the other guys jog over to us. “Porter’s not doing so hot, fellas,” he says when they reach us. “Help me get him into that building over there. Hopefully they’ve got some cool water and a fan. We need to get him back to base, but that should help tide him over until then.”
Chris and Joey pull me up by my arms. Draping one across each of their shoulders, they prop me up between the two of them. Even in my disoriented state, I’m embarrassed. They’re just as hot as I am. And now they have to drag my ass with them.
I try to get my feet underneath me so I can walk myself over there, but they just won’t cooperate. “Hold up, guys. Just gimme a minute and I can walk. No reason for you guys to overexert yourselves and end up in the same boat.”
They stop for a second but don’t let me go. Now that they’re not moving, I’m finally able to get my feet to cooperate. I’m still holding on to them, but at least I feel a little steadier.
“Dude, it’s not a big deal. We need to get your ass inside,” Chris says, tugging my arm toward our destination.
He should know better than that. I don’t rely on others to take care of me. Watching my back for snipers is one thing. But I don’t need to be carried just because it’s a little hot outside.
I pull my arm from his grasp, swaying slightly on my feet. Okay, that probably wasn’t the best idea, but I’m able to steady myself before I collapse. “I’m fine, Chris. It’s like fifty yards to that building. I can walk that far on my own, ya know. Been walking for years without your help. Sure as hell don’t need it now.”
I know I’m being a dick. I know Chris is just looking out for me. But for some reason I don’t care. My overheated brain thinks I need to prove to everyone I can do this on my own.
Chris moves to grab my arm again. “C’mon, m—”
I yank my arm out of his reach and shove my shoulder against him, pushing him away from me. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Fine, you stupid asshole. Fucking collapse and die out here, I don’t give a shit.” He turns and stomps away, walking toward the building.
Joey looks at me. “Dude, you can walk on your own. But I’m staying here with you just in case.”
I suddenly feel like the biggest ass on the planet. I need to apologize to Chris. I nod to Joey and then look at Rhodes and Sarge. “Go on ahead and make sure he doesn’t break anything. You know how he gets when he’s pissed.”
“Yeah, well, he has good reason to be pissed at you, asshole,” Rhodes says under his breath as he and Sarge walk away.
Great. Now the whole troop is pissed at me. What the hell is my problem?
I take a few steps toward the building the guys went into when another wave of dizziness hits me. Fuck. I need help. After all that, what do I say? Oh hey, you know that fit I just threw? Well, turns out I do need some help. Wanna be a pal and just forget all that even happened? Yeah, right. That’ll go over smoothly.
Turns out I don’t need to say anything. Joey reaches over and grabs my wrist, slinging my arm back around his shoulders. “You’re a stubborn asshole, you know that?” He says, rolling his eyes.
“You have no idea. Thanks, man. Dunno what the fuck my deal is,” I say, slouching against him a bit. I can still walk, but having the support helps tremendously.
“This fucking place gets to everyone eventually. We all have our days where we hate the world. No biggie.”
He’s right of course. I’ve talked all of them through some shitty days. And I’ve had them myself. But I’ve never lashed out at my best friend like that. Especially over something like him trying to help me.
We walk in silence for a few more steps. It’s slow going with my extra weight dragging Joey down.
“Hey, what’s that—” he starts to say, pointing toward the roof of the building next to the one we’re heading to.
His words are cut short by the sound of rapid gunfire. We both hit the ground and belly crawl toward a car parked on the street. The shots are coming from the rooftop but also from somewhere behind us. Who knows how many of them there are. Shit. There aren’t supposed to be any insurgents here. We’re just supposed to do our walkthrough every week and move on.
We reach the car and take cover. Joey already has his weapon out, returning fire. My brain feels a little clearer, but I’m still sluggish. I need to get my head out of my ass and protect my brother.
I pull out my gun and look up at the roof behind us. A head pops up from behind the wall, firing off a few shots. He’s aiming for a group of civilians huddled behind a merchant stand.
I shake my head, forcing my vision to clear. The gunman still has his sights set on that group of innocents. I lift my gun up to my shoulder, looking down the scope. I’ve got him lined up perfectly when I hear Joey groan next to me. I drop my gun and turn my attention to him. He’s clutching his shoulder, moaning.
“I’m hit. Fuck, I’m hit.” His face is screwed up in pain, his eyes squeezed tight. I lay him flat on his back, grabbing some gauze from my pack and pressing it tightly against the wound.
“You’re gonna be alright, Roberts, you hear me? You’re gonna be alright.”
More gunfire sounds in the background. I grab Joey’s other hand, placing it over the bandages. “Keep as much pressure on that as you can,” I say sternly. I pick my gun back up and line up my shot again. The gunman on the roof has set his sights on a new target now. I look to where he’s aiming and see Chris. Chris’s back is turned, his gaze on the gunman on the opposite roof. I look back at my gunman. He raises his gun to his shoulder.
Fuck that. There’s no way in hell this motherfucker is taking out my best friend. I scream as I rush out from behind the car, firing the whole way. I see the gunman collapse, his body hanging over the side of the wall. I continue to fire, still moving toward him. This fucker is going to be dead. DEAD.
His body finally falls from the roof, crashing into the sidewalk below. And still, I don’t stop. I run over to him and start kicking the shit out of him. I’m stomping on his stomach when I feel arms come around me.
“He’s down, man. He’s gone. Breathe. C’mon, breathe with me.”
All I can see is red. I push against the arms that are holding me, not ready to let this guy go. He shot my friend. He shot dozens of innocent people. He tried to kill Chris. He tried to kill me. He needs to pay.
The arms around me are resilient. The harder I push, the stronger their hold becomes. “Breathe, Ryan. C’mon. You need to calm down. We need to get you to safety.”
The words are right next to my ear. I recognize the voice. Chris. I inhale slowly. What’s that they always tell you? In through the nose, out through the mouth? I try it a few more times, feeling myself start to cool off a bit.
I look at Chris. I se
e his goofy-ass grin and I lose it. I bury my face in his shoulder and the tears start to fall. “I’m so sorry, man. So fucking sorry. I saw that asshole with his gun on you and all I could think was you were going to die and the last thing I fucking said to you was to leave me the hell alone. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t let that happen. I lost it. I was so scared. So goddamn scared.”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders. We sink to the ground together. He doesn’t say anything, just lets me cry. No smart-ass comments. No anger at what I said to him earlier. He just holds on to me while I purge all my fear and anger. Once it’s all out of me, I pull back from him. I wipe my face, looking around. The rest of the guys are helping out the residents of the village. There are people down everywhere. “Shit. Look at all this. And I’m over here crying like a fucking baby for no reason.”
I stand, wiping my hands on my pants. I put my hand out for Chris. He takes it and I pull him to his feet. “I am pretty damn awesome, man. I’d cry if I thought I was gonna lose me too,” he says, bumping me with his shoulder.
I laugh softly. Shaking my head, I look over at him. “Don’t ever change, Chris. Please.”
“No worries there, bro. Why change perfection?”
I throw my arm around his shoulders and pull him against me. “Love you, man. For real.”
“I know it. Always known it. And back at ya. Now quit with the sappy shit. We got some people to help.”
I roll over and try to lift my eyelids. It feels like someone has glued them shut. After quite a bit of effort, I finally manage to pry one of them open. My gaze falls on the window next to my bed. What the hell? There’s no window next to my bed. In fact, my bunk is in the middle of two others. Where the hell is Joey’s bed?
At the thought of Joey, the details come rushing back. The attack. Joey being shot. Chris being the shooter’s next target. Me losing it on the asshole after he fell from the roof. My right eye pops open and I try to lift myself onto my elbows. My head starts to swim and I immediately fall back to my pillow. Okay, that probably wasn’t a good idea. I turn my head to the other side, trying to get my bearings. I must be in the infirmary. Why am I here? I wasn’t shot. Where’s Joey? He should be here, not me. Shit! The thought of Joey not being here hits me hard. If he’s not here, does that mean…I can’t even finish the thought. Please don’t let it be true.
I sit up again, moving more slowly this time. I make it up onto my elbows this time. Sit and rest for just a minute. What the hell happened to me? I need to find the doctor and get some damn answers. After my head stops spinning, I push up and sit on the edge of the bed. Better. But I don’t dare try to stand on my own. Last thing I need is to end up flat on my face with nobody around. Instead, I reach to the table next to me. I grab the metal tray on it and shove it to the floor. Metal clangs against the tile. There. That should get someone’s attention.
And less than ten seconds later, two nurses and a doctor come running to the room. They see me sitting there and pull up short.
“Oh, you’re awake,” the taller nurse says to me. Wow. What a genius. I want to congratulate her on stating the obvious but I stop myself. It’s not her fault I’m here and my head hurts like a bitch. No reason to take my frustrations out on her. The doctor moves from behind them and walks over to me. I don’t recognize him. Or the nurses, for that matter. I may not be on the medical team, but I know most of them by sight at the very least. When the doctor reaches me, he starts checking my vitals. I open my mouth to ask what’s going on, but no sound comes out.
“LeeAnn, can you go grab some more water, please?” he asks, and the short, blond woman scurries out of the room. The taller woman, the one who spoke earlier, moves to my side and bends to put up the tray I threw to the floor. It’s not until then I notice the pitcher that must have been on it, water now spreading across the floor. Whoops. I try to apologize but still can’t make a sound.
“Shhh,” the doctor says to me. “Don’t try to talk yet. You’ve been out for a few days. I’m sure your throat is drier that the Mojave. We’ll get some water in you, and then you can try again.” He’s still making his way around my body, checking my pulse, listening to my lungs, feeling my stomach, checking my eyes. I look down, trying to find a nametag, but I see none.
He must see me looking. “I’m Dr. Simmons. You’re in the military hospital on Bagram. Came in a couple of days ago after you collapsed from heat stroke.” He finishes his exam and the nurse returns with my water. I accept it graciously and take a few huge gulps. I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful in my life. It takes everything in my power not to just chug the whole thing. But I know drinking too much water too fast will only make me sick. Instead, I clear my throat and ask what happened to Joey.
“Joey? Oh, you must mean Corporal Roberts. He’s doing okay. Usually in the bed right next to you, but decided he was feeling well enough to take a trip to the mess hall for breakfast.”
I exhale the breath I’d been holding since I asked the question. I should have known the asshole wouldn’t go down that easy. He’s too stubborn to let himself get killed by a single gunshot. Bastard always said if he goes down, it’ll be in a blaze of glory.
“Speaking of breakfast, you want to try to get something in you? We’ve been keeping you nourished, of course,” he says, gesturing to the IV next to my bed. It’s the first time I’ve noticed I’ve got several tubes running into my arms. “Plus, you were dehydrated as hell. Thought we might lose you for a while. Definitely one of the worst cases of heat stroke I’ve seen. I’m surprised you didn’t collapse long before you did. Anyway, how about trying to get some food in there? Nothing too crazy. Maybe just some oatmeal or a scrambled egg. How does that sound?”
Honestly, it sounds as appealing as eating sawdust, but I know I have to start somewhere. “Sure. Scrambled egg sounds okay. How about a piece of toast too?”
“Sure thing. I’ll have it brought right up. You take it easy. I’ll come back and check on you in a few hours. You feel any pain or discomfort, you let one of the nurses know and they’ll come grab me.”
I nod, leaning back on my pillow. Now that I know Joey is okay and where I am, I’m forced to acknowledge just how exhausted I still am. How can that be? Apparently I’ve been asleep for a few days. But my body feels like I haven’t slept in months. I decide resting my eyes just until my breakfast gets here might not be the worst idea.
“Dude, wake up. I’ve got chow.”
I wake with a jolt. Joey is sitting next to me in a wheelchair, a plate of food on his lap. I look around. It feels like I’ve been asleep for hours again, but I know that can’t be true. It wouldn’t have taken that long to get breakfast. My body protests when I sit up.
“Holy shit, it’s good to see you.” I reach out, grabbing his arm. He leans forward, clutching my shoulder with one hand. His other arm is held against his chest in a sling.
“You too, man. Although I guess I’ve been seeing you for a few days. But it’s good to see you awake. You scared us for a bit. They kept pumping you full of fluid, but you didn’t want to wake up. Doctor was thinking maybe they got you here too late. That your organs had already started shutting down and shit. Chris has been up here every second he can. Sitting here telling you that if you die he will bring you back, just to kill you himself. He’ll be so stoked to know you’re awake now.”
I laugh. “Sounds like Chris. Dude always thinks he’s a bigger badass than he is. How are you, man? That was a pretty bad hit.”
He grins. “I ain’t gonna let any little gunshot keep me down. You know that. They did some surgery to fix some tendons. Bullet hit me in the shoulder, just under the collarbone. Apparently it bled like a motherfucker too. Had to have a few transfusions. But I woke up just fine the next day. Been trying to get outta here and back into action. But they keep insisting I have to stay until I’m ‘healed.’” He guffaws, like the idea of him not already being one hundred percent is ridiculous. I see him wince a little as he laughs. He’s in more pa
in than he’s letting on.
“Well, enjoy the air conditioning and rest while you can. They’ll get you back in action before you know it. Then you’ll be begging to come back and sit on your ass.”
He chuckles, leaning forward again to slap me on the shoulder with his good arm. “It’s good to have you back, man. Now eat that shit before it gets cold and even more nasty.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, giving him a mock salute. I look down at the gelatinous eggs on the plate in front of me. I hate this powdered shit. But food is food I guess. I scoop up a forkful and shove it in my mouth. They’re already cold. I grimace as I swallow. “Good god, why’d they save my life if they’re just trying to kill me with this dreck?”
Joey laughs and jokes as I force down my food. The nurse comes in to check on us. Joey is all but falling out of his chair while laughing at my face. She gives him a stern look and tells him it’s time to get back in bed. She helps him out of the chair and onto his cot. Turning to me, she sees I’ve finished my food and takes the plate from my lap. “Sorry, I know those eggs are awful. If you do well with this, I’ll make sure you get something good for lunch.” She gives me a wink and leaves the room.
“God, you were dead to the world an hour ago, and now you’ve got the hottest nurse here hitting on you. Do me a favor, okay, man? Go back to sleep for four or five more days. Give me some more time to make my move.”
I laugh as I lay back against my pillow. Haylee pops into my mind. That picture she sent me. I’d give anything to see it right now. With her beautiful face and the sound of her voice in my head, I close my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep again.
Joey and I are sitting on opposite ends of his bed a few days later. He just pulled out a deck of cards and suggested we play Bullshit. I laugh, remembering the night I played this with Haylee, Chris, and Emma. Haylee had been so reluctant when she first arrived that night, but after a few rounds of Bullshit, she’d loosened up and seemed to be enjoying herself. Seeing her laugh and smile so much was exhilarating.
