“Lieutenant? I need you to sit down and let me check your vitals.” A young woman pulls on my arm, but I shake her off.
“Danny?” My voice seems too quiet. “Danny?” I roar louder, wincing in pain.
“Cole!” Our CO is in my face. “What happened?”
I push past him. I can answer these questions later. Right now I have to find him. Drew would expect me to find him, make sure he’s okay.
The chaos of emergency personnel shoves past me. The closer I get to the back of the truck, the worse the carnage. My fellow soldiers are lying on their sides, blood soaking through their uniforms.
“No.” My voice is inaudible to me, but I know I said it.
Panic tightens in my chest, restricting my breathing. Through my double vision, I see his fair hair. His helmet is off. He’s lying on his side with one arm twisted behind his body.
The fist he hit me with is swollen on his chest.
He’s not moving.
“Danny!” I rush forward, but my head tilts. The nausea has caught up with me, and I stagger to the side to vomit. No food comes up. It’s only foam and mucus.
“You have a concussion…” Another set of hands grips me, but I shake them away.
I pull up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before falling to my knees. The noise of my ragged breathing is in my ears. It’s a roar louder than the shrill of my blasted hearing.
Everything is chaos. Medics are dragging bodies out of the truck and lining them up on the sand for treatment. I strain my eyes to where I last saw him. I need to know if he’s still alive.
“Gray.” Something catches my leg as I try to pass, stopping me.
Looking down, I recognize Warren, one of the infantrymen in our squad. I drop to my knees, seeing at once his injuries are critical.
“Are you in pain?” I pull his torso in my arms, his back to my chest as I scan the area for a medic. “I’ll take you to where they’re treating the others.”
“No…” His voice is breathless, and I can feel his body sagging. “It’s not worth it. I’m not going to last much longer.”
“Don’t say that.” I wrap my arms across his chest, squinting my eyes against the gaping wounds, the blood soaking his pants. “They can help you.”
“Will you help me?”
“Of course. I’m trying to—”
“Just stay here a minute.” He exhales heavily. “Just get me through. To the other side.”
I hold him tighter against my chest, refusing to hear his words. The noise around us seems to fall back. It seems to dim and slow as I hold o
nto him through his final breaths.
Men jog past us, carrying stretchers and setting up triage. Nobody seems to notice as I hold a boy from Arkansas in my arms, sitting on the desert sand, watching as he takes his final breath miles and miles away from home.
His body goes slack, and I know he’s gone. My eyes sting, and I look around. I have to find someone to take him into the truck, to take him home.
As gently as I can, I lie him down on the sand. My hand is on his chest, and I lean into his ear, even though he can’t hear me anymore. “I’m getting help. I’ll be back.”
Dropping my head, I wipe my hand across my brow. I’ve never seen it this bad. I guess I’ve been lucky. I’m not sure I can get anybody to come check Warren, but I have to try. I have to let someone know about his death.
I take two steps when I collapse again. My head is getting heavier. It’s pounding in my ears now, and I’m starting to feel weak. I’m at the back of the truck when I see him.
“Danny…” My voice breaks as I rush forward, dropping to one knee at the side of his body.
His hazel eyes stare at the sky, seeing nothing.