by Lynn Lamb
“Yeah, we decided not to hide anymore. That’s easier said than done, apparently.”
“Well, what did you expect? He’s a real stud,” she said.
“MOM,” I said in an effort to make her stop talking like that. I was sure my face was already red enough.
“I’m not saying that I am after your man, but if I was just a few years younger…” she said.
I disappeared to my cabin to get out of the spotlight. I spent a few minutes cleaning up after the kids and realized that this would be the first time in years that I would actually be alone. Bailey would stay with Annie, just in case. I waited for a knock on the door that didn’t come. I changed tactics, and turned on my walkies’ volumes to high. I sat with last night’s unfinished glass of wine.
I missed him already.
Besides a few calls on the public channel between the trucks, there was nothing. I knew that he would bring our private walkie with him, but he wouldn’t use it unless he had to.
Hours crawled by like a race between a snail and a turtle. I didn’t change my clothes because at some point I would need to go out and face the fallout of Jackson’s mission. The fallout from the kiss was far more benign, as it turned out.
I snuggled with Hershey on the long couch. He was always there when I needed him. Screw “man’s best friend,” he was definitely this woman’s best friend. Between the documentary DVD I was trying to focus on and the glass of wine, my eyes were leaden, but I refused to fall asleep. I stood and walked to the door to get a dose of freezing air on my face to keep me awake. As I did, one of the walkies went off. Hershey’s ears went forward, and he stared at the machine that made the offending noise.
“Take ‘em in T2, now,” said a strained voice. I couldn’t make out who it was over the static. They must have been on the edge of being in-range. Voices were going in and out, and I wasn’t waiting for the knock on the door. I pulled on my jacket, Agenia’s jacket, and ran with the walkies and my camera into the frigid night’s air. The Villagers were all settled in for the night, and I couldn’t see a soul.
It was my nightmare.
∞
I was panicking trying to move towards the big tent. When I got there, Mason and Fitz were sitting there monitoring with their radio sets.
Mason looked at me and said. “Three men down.”
“Who?” I screamed at him as I sat down to listen in. “TELL ME.”
“Laura,” said Fitz, “Down can mean wounded; not dead.”
“God damn it, tell me. I am no idiot. Odds are that it is someone…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Adam ran in. “Who?”
“They won’t tell me,” I told him.
“That’s because we don’t know. You two need to shut up if you are going to be in here,” said Mason in complete annoyance.
“Adam, can you get Ammie?” I knew I didn’t need to tell him to try and keep her calm.
“Yeah, be right back,” he said.
I considered waking Annie, but knew it would make her a nervous wreck.
“I need to get the medics ready,” I said, my mind finally coming into focus.
“They have been ready and on call since the convoy left,” said Fitz. “Laura, I need you to stay clear-headed. We are going to need you tonight. There’s coffee on the table over there. Pour yourself a cup, and pull yourself together.”
I wasn’t in the mood to be told to pull myself together. But if Ammie came in and saw me like this, she would lose it. I got some coffee and rejoined the two men.
“This is why we don’t allow families in war zones,” said Mason.
My fist began to fly at him, but Fitz caught it in time.
Ammie and Adam looked on in horror.
“It’s okay, come on over here,” I coaxed them over as I pulled my mind into focus and my arm away from Fitz. “I’m not going to beat this ass up, at least not right now.” Mason glared at me, and I glared right back.
“Hit me if you think it will make you feel better,” he tried to provoke me.
“I would, but I hate to make a big man cry.”
The radio’s static blared, and then there was another voice that was inaudible followed by a blast of some sort. Something bad was going down out there, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it.
“Laura… okay… shot,” said Jackson over our private channel.
“You are shot?” I asked over the walkie.
“Let me have that,” said Mason trying to grab my walkie away from me.
“Over my dead body. Fuck off,” I told him.
“Try it little girl,” he said.
Why didn’t I hit him while I had the chance?
I got up with the walkie and went to the other side of the table.
“Jackson, are you there?”
No answer.
“Jackson, please,” I pled.
He was gone, but I sat for another hour, waiting for one word, just one syllable.
January 18
The trucks rumbled in at about two in the morning. From that moment on there was pure chaos. I couldn’t make my way past the wall of people waiting for them to come in. I got separated from Ammie and could only hope that she was still with Adam.
The scene reminded me of news coverage of families waiting for information after an airplane crash. People were yelling and some were crying when they saw the bloody bodies of people we didn’t even know.
Minutes passed like hours, until I saw Jake carrying a lady in his arms. Malcolm and the medics were attempting to triage the wounded.
It was my turn to do what I do. I jumped on top of the hood of a truck while Sampson stood close by to make sure I didn’t slip. When Fitzpatrick passed me, I told him to turn on the emergency signal for twenty seconds. He looked at me with a question mark on his face, but ran off to comply.
From my place on the truck’s hood, the alarm was close enough to my ears to make me wince. I put my hands over my ears and crouched down. When the sound stopped, almost everyone froze in place, looking around for instructions.
“I am up here. I need you to go back to your tents. We will come and notify you if we need you, and that includes people with loved ones who were on the mission,” I ordered.
The Villagers reluctantly followed my directions. That’s when I saw the make-shift stretcher carrying Mark’s bloody and broken body. Malcolm was at his side, moving along with the soldiers carrying their wounded warrior. I felt the blood drain from my face. His head moved, and I knew that he was still alive. I ran over and grabbed his bloodstained hand, but they were moving too fast and my hand slipped and lost contact.
“He’s not wearing his dog tags. Laura, what’s his blood type?” Malcolm asked.
“He’s O positive,” I said knowing that I couldn’t even donate blood for him.
“Get on the camp channel and try to find any type Os,” he told me.
I ran to the tent where I had left that walkie.
“Villagers, we need everyone with type O blood to come to the big tent for donations. Please, anyone with type O blood,” I begged.
Within minutes, we had three donors.
“Laura, the Doc sent me to get you to ask for B positive, too,” said Sergeant Baldwin. “For Ramirez, he’s bad.”
I put out the call for that when I realized that I was B positive.
I went over to Erica Hansen, one of the nurses, to donate my blood to give Staff Sergeant Jose Ramirez a chance to live. I had been a frequent donor before the war, and I knew the drill.
“I am sorry, Laura,” said Erica. “But I can’t take your blood. You obviously don’t weigh enough.”
“Erica, take it,” I ordered. “I’ll eat something, and I will be fine. I am not going to let a man die over a few pounds.” Erica looked dismayed at my order.
“Let her give the blood,” said Jackson as he limped into the tent leaning on Specialist Woolf for support. “I’ll take responsibility for her.”
I wanted to run over
and fling my arms around him, but instead I sat down on the bench and held out my arm.
“This is highly ill-advised,” she told me, but she stuck the needle in my vein anyway.
I watched as Mason took dressing off of Jackson’s thigh and looked at a wound.
“It’s just a graze,” Jackson shouted to me over the insanity. “I’m fine.”
When Erica pulled the needle from my arm, I jumped up too fast. Blackness tried to make it into my line of vision, but I refused to allow it. Erica grabbed my arm, but I pulled it away and went to Jackson’s side.
“That’s my tough girl,” he told me.
“Yeah, your tough girl tried to take a swing at me earlier,” said Mason.
“Heh, I’m sure you deserved it,” Jackson told him.
“He did,” I said. “What happened out there?”
“They fought back,” said Jackson. “Is Mark alright?”
I shook my head, and Erica came and took over Jackson’s care.
“He’s in surgery,” she told us. “Colonel Jackson, I need to clean the wound. It’s going to sting.”
I took his hand. He turned and looked in my eyes as she worked on him, never flinching once. When she was done, he exhaled strongly and squeezed my hand gently. Then Erica redressed the wound.
“I need to find out how Mark is doing. And Bri,” I said.
“Bri was in my vehicle. She twisted her ankle, but she’s fine,” he told me. “Let’s go and find out about Mark.”
I ducked under his arm to help him walk, but I could feel myself sway a little under the weight of his body.
“Okay, lightweight. Maybe you should sit.” I gave him a look. “Okay, okay. Just don’t punch me.”
“I’ll do my best, but you never know,” I said.
We asked around and found out that there were two surgeries going on in RVs two and three, but no one seemed to know who was in which.
“You need to get into the cabin and rest,” I told Jackson. I walked him over after retrieving Annie, Billy and Bailey, who were displaced from their beds in the RV. We all went to the cabin together.
“Will you two babysit Jackson while I find out what is going on?” I asked them. Bailey giggled.
“No, you need to sit for a while,” Jackson said. “Annie, she…”
I was out the door before another word could pass his lips. I felt nauseous and went behind an RV and threw up. I kicked snow over it and went to find someone to tell me what was going on.
∞
I was able to flag down a frazzled looking Fitz.
“I need to know what’s going on,” I told him.
He grabbed my arm and led me back to the big tent. Some of the MT were being given basic first aid by other soldiers, and I finally spotted Bri. I grabbed Fitz’s arm so that he couldn’t get away and dragged him over to where Adam was wrapping Bri’s ankle. I pulled her in for a long, tight hug.
“What happened out there? Did you see Mark?” I asked.
“Two very different questions,” she said. I always knew when she was hiding tears under bravado, but I didn’t want to say anything that would release her emotions until she was ready.
“Let’s start with Mark. How bad is he?”
“I saw him go down. Ramirez helped me pull him out, but that’s when he was shot. I shot that bastard who did it, and he went down. I pulled Uncle Mark out the best I could and went back for Ramirez. Jackson carried Mark to a truck and Owens came for Ramirez. That’s all I really know about them. Aunt Laurie, it was a blood bath, worse than anything we saw getting up here from Arizona and that was bad.”
I gently pulled her in and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, Bri. Sometimes I hate this world.” She knew what I meant.
Jake came over and pulled me into a tight hug, and I released my tears on him.
“Doc Riley just came out of surgery with Ramirez. He didn’t make it,” Jake said.
I cried even harder.
Fitz, Jake, Adam, Bri and I waited for another hour or so before Malcolm came into the tent with Katie.
“He’s going to live,” he told us.
Tonight, we lost one soldier and thirty-nine Wanderers. Eight of them lived and were in the camp undergoing various medical procedures.
∞
“Thanks, Annie, Billy,” I said to my two babysitters. “How’s he doing?”
“We have been checking on him. He’s sleeping now,” said Billy as he got up and stretched.
“We should be getting back to the RVs and clean up. I can’t imagine what they are going to look like,” said Annie.
After warning her to let the medics lead in the cleanup, I updated them on Mark’s condition. When they were gone, I checked on Bailey and made sure she was sleeping soundly. Her curled up little body slept with no knowledge of the carnage that was just on the other side of her door. How can I keep her from losing her innocence in this world? How could I even keep her safe?
I pulled in the overstuffed chair from the living room and placed it next to the bed. The minute I entered the room, I saw two ocean blue eyes looking up at me.
“Hi, honey,” Jackson said. “Sorry, that pill Erica gave me wiped me out. Have you heard anything about Mark?”
“Only that he will live,” I told him.
“I’m glad. You know that I don’t hate him, right?” he said.
“I know,” I said. “And you do know that you are not to blame for what happened to him, to anyone, don’t you?”
“It was my mission. I am to blame for any loss, just like you blame yourself when anything goes wrong in the Village.” I couldn’t argue that one. “We had everything planned, just like any mission we would have gone on before the war. But there were too many of them to make it an easy sweep. We were thrown because those who fought back were suicidal. You can do a lot of damage when you don’t care if you live or if you die.”
“How were you supposed to know that?” I asked him rhetorically. “Everyone we have come across has wanted to live. Well, except for Rolette, but he was insane. Maybe they were, too.”
I lay down next to him gently, as to not shake the bed and hurt him. He didn’t seem too worried about his wound or the pain. He took me firmly in his arms and made love to me. We found comfort in each other’s arms, trying to forget what we had seen and done since this horrible war had ruined any semblance of safety we could ever have again.
Part VII: Where Do We Go From Here?
January 19
“Take me to the winery,” I told Jackson as soon as he opened his eyes.
“Errr, give me a minute,” he told me.
I got up and started to dress. I looked in the mirror, and my face was sheet white; part and parcel of giving that much blood, I suspected. I brushed out my tangled hair and pulled it into my now signature ponytail.
Then, without giving it any more thought than brushing my teeth, I picked up a pair of scissors from the vanity, grabbed my hair at the base of the ponytail and began to chop through the thick strands. The ponytail stayed intact, and I threw it on the ground.
“What the…” said Jackson as he jumped out of the bed and attempted to put weight on his wounded leg. “Ouch. Why?”
“Because it was cumbersome, and I don’t need it,” I said. “It’s okay if you need to rest more. I can get someone to go with me. I am planning to ask Reverend John.”
“No way, not with you acting this way. Get us some coffee and give me a minute,” he said. He looked at the red mane on the floor and shook his head. “I love you, crazy woman.”
“There are some clean uniforms in the closet,” I told him as I went to the kitchen. “The pants from last night had to be chucked, but I put the shirt into the washing machine.”
∞
Jackson limped alongside me as I made my way through the Village campgrounds. I ignored the stares at my newly sheared hair and Jackson’s obvious wounds; not to mention seeing us together after yesterday’s revelation of our relationship.
&nbs
p; We stopped by the RV where they were keeping Mark. I tentatively opened the door and Malcolm immediately came out to talk to us.
“He’s resting comfortably,” he said. “He had two bullet wounds, and we got them out cleanly. It will be days before he is on his feet again, but I am confident he will make a full recovery. He asked for you, Laura.”
“Can I see him?”
“He’s asleep right now. Come back in a few hours,” he said before returning to his patient.
“Now, Annie’s RV,” said Jackson. “You have to start eating.”
“Laura,” said a woman’s voice from behind me. “Wait up.”
“Hi Jessica,” I said. “We are kind of in a hurry.”
“I just wanted to tell you how nice you look with the shorter hair. If you come by my tent when you have time I can cut it into a real cute pixie, or whatever you want,” she said. Her attitude about Jackson and me was gone now, and her sincerity was clear.
“Thanks, I will,” I told her before she jetted off to the big tent.
“You are still the most beautiful woman in the world,” whispered Jackson.
“I’m not sure what that means anymore, but thanks,” I said.
Ammie was with Bri, and they were walking towards us.
“Hey, Gimpy,” Jackson greeted Bri.
“Look who’s talking,” Bri retorted.
“Hey, check it out,” Ammie said pointing at me. “It was way over a year this time. You owe me three bucks, Bri.”
“Ha, I left my cash in my other pants. Do you take credit cards, American Express Platinum, maybe? So, this was the longest your hair ever got, wasn’t it?” asked Bri. “Hey, can I have the hair? Maybe I can make myself a red wig. Freaked ya out, didn’t it, Jackson?”
“This is something you do, I take it,” said Jackson.
“What was your first clue? Yeah, he freaked, but I played it cool.”
∞
I told Reverend John what we needed, and he was glad to help. It was pretty quiet during our trip to the winery, but finally Jackson spoke up.
“I don’t think that you need to go in there, Laura. The Padre and I can do what he needs to do without you.”
“No, I need to know. I need to see,” I told him.
