by Gigi Aceves
It’s GONE…
I’m ALONE….again.
John jumping in front of me, literally, saving my ass shocks me to say the least. Then, searing heat and pain hit me like a bullet train. Sure John took the brunt, but he was so close to me, I didn’t stand a chance against a 9mm bullet. It hits me on my shoulder, the impact causes me to lose my balance. As I fall on my knee, another pain shoots through me, and I know, my shoulder is fucked.
Suddenly, I hear gun fire and shouting coming from different directions as Diego quickly looks at the door. I’m sure stunned out of his mind, because Gunny’s letting it rain. I waste no time, adrenaline spikes up my blood, and just as I’m about to stab him, he turns abruptly, and my knife misses his fucking neck, instead I hit him on his shoulder, causing him to drop his gun. I let go of my knife as we both lunge for the gun, we continue to jostle, elbowing each other in the face, stomach, anywhere we can land a blow. I finally grab the gun, but before I can put my finger on the trigger, he yanks it, breaking my pointer and middle fingers. Motherfucker!
He’s able to get it from me, scrambling on his feet as I hustle to do the same. We’re both standing now, sweat dripping on our faces, both gasping for breath, a standstill filled tension bounces off of each other. He takes two steps away from me as I look down to my left to see exactly where my knife is. He deliberately raises his hand, aiming the gun straight at me. The very thing I’ve put all my trust and respect in during most of my life, could very well be ending my life.
He fires, wearing that sneer on his face, while my heart pictures Roxy in white, walking down an aisle covered in white and red rose petals; but not knowing if at the end, it’ll be me….waiting for her, probably not.
I’m angry, because of her…
I feel regret, because of her…
My heart slams shut.
My mind takes over.
Protecting my heart.
The moment the bullet pierces through my flesh, the force sends a fiery-painful sensation through my entire body. I fall…I fall down hard, my knees hitting the floor, looking at my chest as blood slowly covers my shirt, and a kick on my left shoulder (brought to you by the fucker standing in front me) causes me to fall back with my arms spread out. I close my eyes, but not before slightly moving my hand over my knife. I can feel him walking toward me as I hear her pained sobs, while I say a prayer for God to give me the strength to finish this piece of shit off. I sense him kneel next to me, the barrel of the gun right under my chin.
“I get my revenge, I win fucker! Too bad you won’t see how I’ll fuck her….”
That’s all it takes for me to ram my knife into his neck, and he falls on his side. A sense of relief washes over me, knowing she’s safe settles my heart somewhat…not entirely of course, because nothing…nothing can repair my heart now. Not after this.
Not after I failed….
Not because of my incompetence, but because of her inability to trust me….
Even with the battle my heart is waging against my head, making sure she’s safe is still at the forefront of my mind. Until I hand her over to LT, then and only then, can I rest, not a minute too soon. It’s wishful thinking on my part, knowing I can’t absolutely forget anything about her; though I’ll die trying. I can’t forgive or forget how she managed to break, not only my trust, but my heart.
Moving is out of the question, my shoulder burns, and my chest hurts like a bitch. I manage to call out her name, but I get no response. It’s as if she’s in a different place, a place where I can’t reach her. As sounds of gunfire echo in the distance, I pray for a miracle, and just like that, sweet mercies from heaven start raining down on us, because she turns my way as I call out her name for the second time.
As her beautiful eyes zero in on mine, a quagmire of emotions jolts my being. Hard as I try to control my love for her, my heart knows its mate, no matter how much I want to deny the truth. Her love filled eyes jump start my already weak heart to submit to her presence….to drown in her love, but anger is a bitch. It darkens the light, it destroys the beauty, and it shreds every bit of good in a person. So, when my eyes land on hers, I quench that desire to lavish in their beauty… I fight against the peace they used to give me.
“Grab the gun,” between gasps, I say.
Succumbing to her pull is just as hard and painful as every gasp of breath I’m taking. Even though her tears are cascading down her face, she does as I say without question. If only she’d listened then….but now….now it’s a little too late.
“Oh G-God! I…I’m, s-so s-sorry!”
“M-move. Stay over there, away from me. G-get the gun, and a-aim it at the fucking d-door.”
She kneels next to me and holds my face, wanting to connect with me either by touch or looking at me. Her eyes speak all the regret she feels, her fear is just as relentless as the tears flowing down her face.
Shaking her head, she says, “No! I’m not leaving you. I-I’ll stay here next to you. Please, don’t ask me to leave.”
I’m bone tired….I’m hurting….there’s no fight left in me, and she refuses to listen. With her back to the door, my greatest fear is someone coming in and shooting her. The amount of fear that courses its way through me, leaves me weaker. At the very last moment, she fucking fights me.
So….weak….
So….fearful….
Not for me, but for her.
She speaks her litany of love for me, exposing herself, opening up…letting herself go….finally.
But my brain slams my heart shut again….
“Please, don’t leave me. There’s only you for me, love. The burn I feel when you’re around me, and the love we share, I can’t live without it…don’t want to lose it. I didn’t tell you, because of this…you’re hurt because of me. I only want to protect you.”
She leans in and kisses me. This kiss, though, feels as if her world is falling apart at the seams, while mine fell apart a long time ago. With each brush of her lips against mine, as though she can’t let go of me, even for a second, while I remain still…unmoving. As if even a moment of separation means a lifetime of distance that no one can bridge, but me, while I think I can’t be that bridge for her anymore. I’m almost powerless to resist her, because the same burn she talks about is the same exact thing I feel when she’s next to me….absorbing me….owning everything about me…
And yet she did let go….
She broke my trust….
“Y-you n-need to move. Y-you can’t h-have your back f-facing t-the d-door,” I say against her lips. “J-just in c-case someone c-comes. MOVE!” It takes everything in me to get the message across.
Just as she’s about to move, I hear the door open, and my heart drops. At this moment, I feel so inept….impotent, because I can’t do shit to protect what’s mine….or what used to be mine. I’m just waiting for the sound of gun fire. Her reaction is to plaster her body on me, shielding me, her shaky hands cradle my head as she gazes at me, emotions flowing freely, so do her tears as she continuously says she loves me. Her eyes almost puts me in a trance, and right now, I want so badly to tell her I do love her too, but instead, I look somewhere else. Anywhere, but at her. I can’t say the words she desperately wants to leave my mouth, because just like when she couldn’t decide whether to tell me the truth or not, I find myself being there too….at a crossroad.
My mind focuses entirely on the mission, that is to keep her safe, but my heart…my heart is hard as stone.
Unforgiving.
Unfeeling.
Unmistakably cold.
“I.Love.You. If my time stops right here, I’m okay with that, tell me you love me too, please.”
I have nothing…
NOTHING.
She sees it in my eyes, because fresh new tears fall one after another, and I still have nothing. I close them, not willing to see hers, not willing to hear the words that might leave her mouth…the mouth I used to cherish…I used to love. Blackness wants to take over, but I fight, for what
I don’t know, until hearing familiar voices in the room brings relief, knowing she’s safe and my mission is….OVER.
“Clear!” Two voices say at the same time.
Finally, that one voice I’ve been wanting to hear….LT.
His voice controlled and calming, “I gotcha, Roxy. Let go, sis; I need to check him out.”
With shaky voice, she says, “I’m afraid to let go. Love, look at me, please.”
My right eye that I can still open, lands on LT’s green ones. “Get her out, LT…t-take her somewhere safe.”
“I will, Cody; after I check you out.”
I cough out painfully, “I’ve seen enough….she’s seen enough. Don’t let h-her see me l-like this…not like this.”
“I want to be with you….I need to be near him, Damien. Please.”
I don’t want her here. I don’t want to see the agonized longing in her eyes anymore. I just need her to be far away from me, just in case life leaves me, my last act of love….or kindness or whatever the fuck for her is to have her not witness it.
“B! Get her out of here.” LT’s patience lasts only for about five minutes, and he’s in contain mode.
“Roxy, let the medic work on him if you want him to survive. He’s bleeding out, sweetheart,” Brian’s soft voice might bring some sort of clarity to her.
“Bry, he won’t even look at me. Please, tell him to answer me. He’ll listen to you. He always listens to you.”
New whimpers and even louder sobs thaw my heart, but my mind pours gallons of fresh arctic water over it, encasing it with solid…thick…ice. Protecting what I should’ve protected a long time ago.
“Cody, stay with me, buddy. We’re just waiting for the medics to patch you up. Ambulance is on standby, okay?” LT states.
“How b-bad?” Coughing out the question tasting blood once again as I ran my tongue over my lips.
“Focus on the good, Cody. The pain you’re feeling is weakness leaving your body. You’ll survive this, focus on that, got me?”
A sudden chill envelopes me. My entire body is fighting to live, while my heart is in limbo…not wanting anything…not hoping…not needing. Memories of my childhood play clearly in my mind, a picture of my father teaching me how to shoot, my mother’s loving arms surround me before I board the bus for boot camp, the quiet times around the Christmas tree as I open my gifts while my parents watch me with love and adoration in their eyes. A vision of my parents, my father on my left, my mother on my right. My dad leans forward as my mom’s hand hovers over my chest, then as clear as day, I hear my dad’s soft whisper.
“Fight, Son…for us.”
All too soon, the memories I hold dear in my heart stop as I’m being poked and prodded.
“I need 16 gauge IV catheter on board ASAP! We have a sucking chest wound, apply dressing to seal it. Heart rate is 120, BP 90/60, respiratory 40, another gunshot on upper shoulder, multiple lacerations, and possible head trauma. Let’s stabilize him, so we can load and go.”
More poking…jerking…and while they’re doing everything they can to make sure I survive, I’m making sure my mind is solid…unwavering in its quest to fight…to fight for me….because of them….
For once in my life…it’s for me.
“On my count, on three, one…two…three,” a voice I’m not familiar with says.
A stiff board on my back, a brace securely attached on my neck, strapped in tightly, I’m being hoisted up on a gurney, and immediately, I’m moving.
“Cody, we’re moving, buddy. Hang tight for me,” Gunny whispers in my ear.
I can hear the commotion around me, then white fades into black…voices in the background start to sound muffled, and coldness wraps its glacial claws around me.
“BP dropping. Cole, radio it in, our guy needs priority one.”
“UCSF this is unit 102, male 24-26, multiple GSW, vitals not stable, IV established, Morphine 2mg, oxygen via a non-re-breather oxygen mask, trauma team on standby, ETA ten minutes, over.”
Blackness….then, blindingly, bright white light appears before me. There’s no face just a figure…a figure that’s glowing as a delicate hand hovers over me, and heat encases my entire being from the tips of my toes to my burning scalp. Then, thump….thump….
Once…
Twice…
Then, darkness again. What once was a scalding heat running its course throughout me, is replaced by unrelenting coldness seeping through my every pore.
Heat….
Life….
Coldness…
Death….
The next thing I know, I’m being moved, again. A familiar confident voice catches my attention. Opening my right eye, I try my hardest to focus on Gunny.
“We’re here, Cody. If there were ever a time I wanted you to dig deep, this is the time. I’ll be here waiting…I need you back, Marine.”
An unfamiliar voice says, “Sir, this is as far as you can go. Someone will come find you to give you an update.”
All too soon his warmth leaves me….and I’m moving, again….
Darkness….
Light….
Cold….
Pain….
I feel as though I’m having an out of body experience. I hear things, but can’t clearly see anyone or anything around me. Every inch of my body hurts, but I remain focused on Roxy’s face in my mind. The image of her breathes life in me…through me…all around me. I know, I’m fucked up. My trigger finger is broken, I have multiple gunshot wounds on my chest and shoulder. My leg hurts like a motherfucker. Damn fuckers did a number on my ass. However, as long as she’s okay, all this pain, it’s all worth it, because at the end of the day, losing her is not an option. Not now…not ever.
Even if she’s broken my heart.
The next thing I feel are hands all over me…tugging…pulling…poking…what the fuck! As I cautiously open my right eye, bright lights hit my eyeball which cause me to flinch, closing my eyelid shut.
I mumble, “Love…” I try to move, “Love…you…too?”
Someone holds me down and whispers in my ear, “You’re in the hospital. Who are you looking for?”
I slowly swallow and say, “My…lo…love…” I can barely speak. Something is on my face over my mouth. Talking makes my chest hurt…everything hurts, but the need to see her is worse than the pain I’m feeling, right now.
I try my hardest not to go under without seeing her. I’ve been shot before, almost bled to death, but not seeing her…not touching her…it breaks me even more…it leaves me to bleed even more. The bullet hole, somewhere in my battered body, has probably grown in size for every second I miss seeing her beautiful face. The only person that can plug every hole in my body that can soothe any hurt is not within reach.
Another female voice says, “Male approximately 26 to 28 years old, gunshot to the chest and shoulder, lacerations, and contusions on the face and head, left eye swollen shut, knee cap swollen, probably fractured or broken. Pulse weak, vitals tacky, decreased consciousness, and labored breathing. Jesus, you’d think he came from a war zone.”
A male voice says, “He has a sucking chest wound and a massive right side hemothorax. I need a thirty-six chest tube, and chest x-ray stat.” I hear the male voice start barking orders, “Did we establish an antecubital IV lines? It’s a through and through shot.” Another round of pulling…tugging, then the male voice continuous rambling, “Someone get me the sonogram. I need to know if our guy has pericardial tamponade.” The male voice ceases.
A female voice says, “X-ray to trauma bay one. Stat!”
More pulling…more tugging. I feel like fucking Humpty Dumpty, but damn it; I didn’t have a great fucking fall. I’ve been fucking shot!
The male voice shouts, “Shit, give me a large gauge needle attached to a 20ml syringe. I need to drain the blood around the heart. Call the OR; this guy needs surgery to stop the bleeding, ASAP!”
The next thing I know, I’m moving, or someone is moving me. My eyes are
heavy, but my consciousness flashes a pretty picture of my love…my Roxy. Only God can explain this, but I can sense her. The stronger the feeling permeates my entire being, the closer I think I’m getting to where I’m supposed to be. Where the hell am I going, anyway? Are they taking me to her? Am I meeting my Maker?
Oh, God, not yet.
Give me one more glance…
One more touch…
One more kiss…
Just One More.
The only place that can give me peace is in her arms…in Roxy’s arms. I hope I’m heading to Roxy, because she’s the air that fills my lungs, the blood that flows in my veins….she is my life.
My mind flashes pictures of what happened to her. If she had only listened, but she NEVER listens. Then, pain…excruciating pain…caused from not knowing if she’s safe engulfs my entire being. Fear restricts my heart, it clouds my thinking….it breaks my soul.
But, I feel her…I felt her, right?
I feel as if I’m floating around in a sea of blackness, then a flash of light blinds me, and then, nothing. Even though I go in and out of whatever state I’m in, my prayer never stops. I’m begging God over and over again to keep her safe.
God…my…life…for hers.
Subconsciously or consciously, as soon as I hear the whoosh of the door closing, the connection is instantly cut…Am I dead? I’ll feel connected to her if my heart’s still beating, right? Or, I’m alive, and she’s dead? No! I’d rather die than her…not her.
“He’s crashing! Let’s get going folks…he’s flat lining!” A fading voice says.
Then, I feel it…my heart gives…my body is beaten up and broken, but what I know is true…my heart’s last shout…its last call is to Roxy. My heart may stop, but before it ever does, it beats only for one person, because our love…my love for her is undeniable…irrefutable…unmistakable.
