by Sikes, A. J.
“I think she’s going into shock!”
Jo shook herself and crawled across to join him beside Sergeant G.
“She needs fluids. She’s bleeding internally. Matty, where’s our IV?”
“Bag’s right here! Top pouch!” he yelled back from the console.
Jed pitched forward and grabbed the trauma bag from beside Matty’s leg. He dragged it back to Sergeant G and opened the first pouch his hand touched on top. It had bandages and other small packets in it, but no IV.
He unzipped the top flap and grabbed at the clear bag held there by a velcro strap. He tugged the strap open and held the IV out to Jo.
“You have to do it, Jed,” Jo said, cradling her injured arm. “I can’t trust my hand to stay steady.
Jed shook with fright. He’d trained for this before, but it had been years. He knew the don’ts, but could barely remember the dos.
“Cut her sleeve open,” Jo said. “Shears are in the bag, there.” She pointed at the flap he’d pulled the IV from. Jed grabbed the shears from their strap and cut a slit in Sergeant G’s sleeve right above her elbow.
“Iodine,” Jo said, and her voice was the calmest sound Jed had heard in as long as he could remember. He reached for the bag, but it was too dark for him to make out which pouch was which.
“Pen light is in the top pouch, the first one you opened.”
Jo’s coaching settled his nerves and he breathed in and out, feeling his lungs swell first, and then shrink in a smooth rhythm. The pen light was where she said it would be. He flicked it on and found a box of iodine wipes.
“Wipe the whole area, and use more than one if you need to. We can’t risk introducing infection.”
He did as she said, cleaning Sergeant G’s arm again before he got the IV ready to go in. When he had the needle above her vein, the boat rocked in the water. He thought for sure he would miss or collapse the vein, but Jo’s even voice and confident coaching got him through the shakes.
Jed breathed in and out, steadied his hands, and laid the needle against Sergeant G’s vein. He gave a push and watched it slide under her skin. Pressure against the needle told him he was above the vein. He angled down, pushed again, and felt it slide home.
Jo told him to open the drip.
“Start it slow.”
He did, and together he and Jo held their patient steady as the boat pushed through swells in Long Island Sound. Jo soaked a bandage with a bottle of water and swabbed Sergeant G’s forehead. Jed put his hand on Jo’s shoulder and thanked her.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Jo. Oorah.”
“Oorah, Jed. You did good.”
Sergeant G rolled her head to face him. He thought she said Errr before her eyes closed and her face went still.
“Sergeant G! Sergeant!”
“She’s good, Jed,” Jo said. “She’s breathing steady. You did it.”
Jed held the IV bag up in one hand and sat back on his ass. He looked at the woman who saved his life, and whose life he finally saved.
You did good, Jed. You did good.
☣
The coastline of Long Island was a dark slice at the bottom of the sky as they pushed farther out from the city.
Lights flashed on the water ahead and Jed thought it was a nautical signal. He just didn’t know which one.
“Could be someone good, could be someone bad,” Matty said. “I’m turning our lights off and moving out of their path. Just in case.”
A loudspeaker crackled to their starboard, but they were too far to make out the message clearly.
“What’d they say?” Jo asked. “It sounded like enemy.”
Jed handed her the IV bag and picked up the 240, moving to starboard. He set the bipod on top of the boxes there, hoping he’d know for sure who they were before he needed to fire.
Matty had their lights off and was idling the engine. The loudspeaker crackled again in the darkness.
“Are you friendly? Confirm ID.”
“Sounds military to me,” Jed said. “I bet they’re okay. Get us closer, Matty.”
“You sure, Jed? That asshole we chased all over the city might’ve been military himself. That didn’t make him okay.”
“I trust these guys,” Jed said. “They sound legit. Get us closer. If they’re bad people, I’ll light ‘em up.”
Matty grunted something, but he brought them around to aim toward the other vessel. As they turned, a spotlight flared and blinded Jed. Three motors roared to life in the dark water and in seconds they were surrounded.
Jed held a hand up to block the spotlight. He couldn’t see who it was, but he did see what they were sailing in. Three SOC-R craft floated in a perimeter, each with its armaments aimed in their direction.
“Friendly!” Jed shouted, lifting his other hand off the 240. “US Marines! We got wounded!”
☣
The welcoming party escorted them through Long Island Sound until their motor sputtered. With help from one of the SOC-R teams, they transferred Sergeant G and the supplies from Tucker’s boat onto the other craft.
“We’re from Plum Island,” one of the Marines told Jed once they were underway. The whole crew wore protective gear, so the man’s voice was muffled, but it still had the command and confidence Jed was familiar with.
Sounds a lot like Sergeant G.
“Where’s Plum Island?” Jed asked.
“End of the sound. That’s where you’re going now. You’ll be de-conned, treated, and interviewed. If you’re lucky, they’ll give you a new uniform. If you’re unlucky, they’ll feed you.”
Jed wanted to laugh at the joke, but he couldn’t. He looked at Sergeant G, who was lying on the deck, still and calm, like she could be dead or alive. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest told him what he needed to be true. He got the other Marine’s attention and pointed at Sergeant G.
“She saved my life, man. You gotta help her. Make sure she comes through.”
“We have good doctors there. She’ll get the best she possibly can.”
Jed couldn’t let it go.
Doesn’t anybody care if she’s okay?
Jo was sitting next to him. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
“You saved her life, Jed. Oorah?”
Jed thought for a moment, feeling everything they’d been through that day like a smothering weight. He watched the team of Marines crewing the SOC-R as they sped over the water.
“Hey,” he said to the one who’d spoken to him. The man stood behind a .50 cal turret. He turned to Jed and told him to get some rest.
“I will, but you gotta know—we had to leave some people behind,” Jed told him in a rush. “There’s people back there. The sucker faces have ‘em. We couldn’t get everybody out.”
“Operation Liberty starts tomorrow morning. If they’re alive, we’ll find them and they’ll be safe. Now make use of that fourth point of contact, Private.”
Jed wanted to tell him the people were underground, but the guy had clearly ended the conversation, and the tone of his voice told Jed he’d already used his get out of hell free card.
As they raced through the sound toward Plum Island, Jed whispered into the night, saying a prayer for the people still in the city, and the people who had died so that he and the others could get out. Then he said a prayer for the people who would be going back tomorrow morning.
Good luck, and God bless you. The people we couldn’t get out, they’re down in the sewers and maintenance tunnels under buildings. If you see her down there . . .
If you see Meg, please get her out.
Acknowledgements
A lot of people helped make this story possible. Top of the list, my thanks to Nicholas Sansbury Smith for inviting me along as his editor on the Extinction Cycle, and for the heads up about the Kindle Worlds. My gratitude also goes to the team at Amazon for their support in making these stories a reality.
Additional and eternal gratitude goes to the men and women of t
he United States Marine Corps, and to firefighters and first responders everywhere, for your service and your sacrifice. Special thanks go to SSGT Cynthia Terrones (USMC), and to Lieutenant Jon Theisen (Philadelphia FD, retired) for their expert advice and valuable commentary as beta readers. Special thanks as well to US Army OEF Veterans Joshua Ghan and Specialist Claire Ghan, for their assistance in clarifying the types and uses of commo available to our modern military.
Thanks also to the many Marines (active and retired) who replied to my posts on Quora asking for help in crafting as authentic a story as I possibly could. If I got anything right about the Corps in Penance, it’s thanks to them. As for the stuff I got wrong, that’s on me for not asking the right questions ahead of time.
Last but absolutely not the least, my gratitude to Michael E. Andre of the 2/9 “Manchu” Scout Platoon. If it weren’t for my brother from the Northeast, I wouldn’t know my hockey terminology. Scouts out, Mikey!
I hope you enjoyed Penance and encourage you to check out all of the Kindle Worlds Extinction Cycle stories. A lot of talented writers have expanded Nick’s original best-selling series into a world of action, sacrifice, and survival.
You can download Nick’s original series here.
