by Laura Acton
He grabbed the bureau to haul himself up, and his right leg refused to bear his weight. Using the furniture and walls, Dan managed to limp to the bathroom as bile burned his throat, and the bedsheet trailed behind him. Somehow, he made it to the porcelain god, dropped to his knees, and provided his offering. In a world of agony, Dan drifted in and out as his body shook as fever and the coldness of the room overpowered him.
Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead and created salty rivulets down his face. Swiping at his stinging eye after one trail found its way past his lashes, Dan moaned as the gunfire ringing in his head raged. He squeezed his eyes shut, endeavoring to call a cease-fire. Time and place slipped from him, and when Dan next raised his eyelids, his gut clenched as he fought to control an all-consuming fear and revulsion.
Locked in his past, Dan forced himself on up his feet. If he didn’t rise, he would die, and his brothers would be killed. He couldn’t live with the thought of failing them even if it meant he had to do something hideous … kill boys who ranged from twelve to seventeen who had been radicalized and had no compunction killing them. Tonight, it is them or us, and God forgive me, I refuse to allow any of my brothers to die.
Dan picked up his C14 Timberwolf and used the sniper rifle as a crutch. His boots sunk in the snow with each step, but he kept going. He must find a new high position, and he refused to let his most-likely busted leg stop him. Shivering due to the frigid weather and a rush of adrenaline, Dan set his jaw, unwilling to make a sound as pain radiated through his leg.
He approached a tree near the destroyed building, which had been his previous perch. The one he jumped from right before an RPG fired by a preteen terrorist blew the structure to hell. Trying to reach the lowest branch of the tree to pull himself up, Dan failed his first attempt, dislodging snow from the branches.
Wiping the wetness from his face before trying a second and third time, Dan became more frustrated after each failed effort. The firefight going on in the village told him if he didn’t make it on the fourth attempt, he would be too late to protect his unit … and save Brody.
Using every last ounce of his strength, Dan crouched and pushed up, leaping with outstretched hands to grasp the branch above. Gloved fingers wrapped around the desired limb, but his elation at success became only fleeting as a loud SNAP informed him of his failure. He and the broken branch crashed to the ground.
Although he landed in a snowbank, his shoulder struck a hidden rock with such force when his right leg gave out that he couldn’t contain the scream which burst forth as his bone popped out of joint. Dan lay in a bed of white as snowflakes drifted downward, and he sucked in ragged breaths.
In too much agony to stand or move, his inability to defend his five brothers and persevere when they needed him most, crushed his soul, allowing darkness to envelop him. Dan’s sapphire eyes filled with sorrow as images of Brody, Blaze, Winds, Patch, and Baboon cycled through his mind. He choked out in a gravelly tone laden with remorse, “I’m sorry. I failed.”
Cabin – Main Room – 4:00 a.m.
The crash and scream woke Loki and Scott out of a sound sleep. They converged outside their rooms, each with widened eyes of surprise. In unison, they turned and spotted Dan, the broom from the washroom, and a rack of antlers pinning him to the floor. Flummoxed by what occurred, both raced to Dan’s side, dropping to their knees.
“Dan!” Scott noted his cousin’s open, unfocused eyes, but the impressive antlers of a fourteen-point buck impaling the floorboards on either side of Dan’s left arm along with the slow-growing puddle of blood demanded Scott’s attention. A quick scan revealed the points only gouged the inner and outer bicep and nicked the skin above his collarbone, thankfully not impaling Dan.
Scott seized the rack and yanked the pointed tips from the wooden floor before tossing the massive boney structure out of his way. “What the hell did you do? Those damned antlers could’ve killed you.”
Once Scott removed the deer’s rack, Loki noticed Dan’s unnatural arm position. “I think his shoulder is dislocated.” Loki probed the area gently, producing a moan from his teammate. “Sorry to cause you pain, buddy.”
“I’m sorry,” Dan mumbled as he peered up at his brother, who appeared out of nowhere.
Reining in his unjustified anger, Scott spoke with concern, “Nothing to be sorry about. Stay still and let us help.” After examining the cuts, Scott shifted his gaze to assess the right shoulder. “The gouges are minor. We’ll clean them in a bit. The bone is definitely out of its socket.”
Tears welled in Dan’s eyes as he realized Brody survived, but he worried about the others when they didn’t appear. “I tried … I did. The kid fucking blew up my perch. I had to jump. Couldn’t climb the tree … branch broke. I failed to protect you guys. Did anyone else make it out alive? If Patch did, tell him my leg might be busted, my ears are ringing, my head is pounding, and I dislocated my damned shoulder again. I hurt like hell.” Dan’s eyelids lowered as pain lines etched his features.
Loki’s and Scott’s gazes met over Dan’s body as he spoke.
Brody knelt, only partially recharged. Theodore summoned him after Dan fell when he tried to scale the wall holding on to the buck’s antlers. Danny’s words brought forth Brody’s memory of their mission in the mountains of Afghanistan the January before he died. A hellacious one, which left Dan with a fractured tibia, dislocated shoulder, and migraine due to the explosion.
They had no choice but to hike miles to their exfil site when Plouffe refused to send in a QRF after the shit hit the fan. And given the various injuries they all suffered, and the loss of Patch’s med-kit, Dan had to endure immense pain as he hobbled out under his own power with a make-shift crutch.
Brody also realized Danny must be in serious trouble if he could see him, and his mind was stuck in a mission from over three years ago. His priority would be to reassure Dan first, or else the brother of his heart might be tainted by the darkness, which always lurked ready for any opportunity to attack. “Danny, you didn’t fail anyone. We are all alive. Everyone. When the building blew, Blaze told us to bug out and find you.”
“Who is he talking to?” Loki questioned Scott.
Scott’s hand hovered over Dan noting heat radiated off him. “He’s burning with fever. He’s in all probability hallucinating. Something must’ve triggered a memory.”
“No one died?” Dan said with disbelief.
“Not a single one. A bit banged up like you.” Brody reached out to squeeze Dan’s left bicep. “But, Danny, you’re not in Afghanistan.”
“I’m not?” Dan relaxed at the touch, which meant sweet relief would be coming shortly … his brothers always took care of him.
Loki peered up at Scott. “Should we try to move him in this condition?”
“Not yet. Grab me a cold damp cloth, please. If we cool him, maybe he’ll snap out of wherever he is.” Scott moved to the opposite side to carefully probe the dislocation. “We’ll need to pop his bone back into place.”
“No, you are not.” Brody decided to go slow, believing it would be better if the guys relocated Danny’s joint before he returned to the real world.
Loki rushed to the bathroom to soak a washcloth in the sink and gather the bandages. He noted the contents of the toilet and flushed. Returning, he crouched on Dan’s right side and laid the wet cloth over Dan’s forehead. “He puked before coming out here. Have you fixed a shoulder before?”
Wondering if the migraine or something else caused Dan to vomit, Scott addressed Loki’s question. “I understand the mechanics, part of my field training, but no, never done one. We gotta sit him in a chair so I can position his arm correctly, or I might tear muscles.” Scott rose, hurried to the kitchen, and returned, pulling one of the wooden chairs with him.
Having difficulty processing incongruent things around him, Dan couldn’t make sense of Scott and Loki being on a mission with him, but somehow, they were here. A spark of doubt surfaced, and he queried, “Where am I?”
>
“Dan, you’re in a cabin. I need to move you. Are you with me?” Scott touched Dan’s cheek, trying to draw him back from wherever he went mentally. He recalled Blaze telling him one piece of Dan’s training to deal with pain was to go to a happy place … but he didn’t sound happy.
His gaze shifting away from Brody, Dan focused on Scott. Stabbing pain in his head caused him to wince and moan. He tried to curl up, but his cousin put a restraining arm on his chest, holding him down. Dan blinked, and his world tilted crazily, causing his nausea to increase.
After sucking in a few breaths to quell the desire to hurl, Dan turned back to Brody, only to find him gone. “Huh? Brody? Where are you?”
Loki blew out a breath, unsure what to say in response.
“Danny, it’s me, Scott.” When Dan’s gaze wandered from him, Scott said, “Hey, hey, concentrate on me.” Reconnecting gazes, Scott moved his hand to the back of Dan’s neck as he witnessed Blaze do several times and applied slight pressure. “You’re going to be okay. You’re running a fever. Brody isn’t here. He can’t be. Do you understand?”
Confusion lit Dan’s face.
Leaning in close, Scott clarified, “Loki, you, and I are on a ski trip in the Blue Mountains. We’re snowbound in a remote cabin. Your leg is infected and likely causing your fever. You threw up … somehow fell and dislocated your shoulder. I know you don’t feel well, but I’m gonna do what I can to help. First thing I gotta do is reset this shoulder.”
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of the migraine’s agony, Dan came fully to the present. “Screwed up.”
“Yeah, I did … royally,” Scott declared, still kicking himself for the crash.
“Not you, me. Should’ve made sure my meds were in my backpack. My skull is splitting with a migraine,” Dan slurred in a soft voice, each syllable a siren blast in his head.
Scott repositioned, preparing to lift Dan. “Let me stop some of the pain by getting your right shoulder back in joint. Gonna put you in a chair.” Peering at Loki, he asked, “Ready?”
“Just a sec.” Loki finished tying the gauze wrap on Dan’s bicep, he would clean the wounds later, but for now, the blood wouldn’t drip all over the place. He removed the cloth from Dan’s head, placed a hand under Dan’s armpit, and another under his thigh. “Ready.”
The two lifted and sat Dan in the chair. Loki held him upright as Scott worked Dan’s right arm into the correct position. Dan screamed and nearly passed out when Scott jerked it into place. Scott hurried to his room, returning with a clean pair of thermal underwear. He fashioned a sling and secured Dan’s arm close to his chest so he couldn’t move the injured appendage.
When he finished, Scott knelt, bringing himself to eye level with Dan. “Do you remember why you came out here or how the antlers fell on you?”
Half opening his lids, Dan’s gaze went up the wall and back down to the rack on the floor. “Must be another TTM. They mess with my thinking. Old mission … perch blew, had to climb a tree to save them.”
Scott asked, “Dan, what is a TTM?”
Loki answered, “Trauma-triggered migraine. They can come on seconds or hours after a trauma. Using his skull as a battering ram on the spruce tree or hitting the hearth probably triggered his headache.”
“Had one after I shot Ray,” Dan whispered and shut his eyes again. Even the firelight, which was the only light, intensified his agony.
Scott peered at Loki. “Delusion or real?”
Shaking his head at his recollection of that day, Loki related, “Real. The shot was necessary to prevent the hostages, Boss, Bram, and Ray from being blasted to pieces by a bunch of grenades. I behaved like a first-class jerk to Dan afterward. I’m still ashamed of my actions.”
Though speaking increased his suffering, Dan uttered scarcely above a whisper, “Don’t be.”
“Don’t be what?” Loki murmured, taking the cue sound hurt Dan because he winced every time they spoke.
“Ashamed. S’okay. Only protecting your family,” Dan responded between breaths.
“What can we do for you?” Scott rose, wishing like hell they could drive to the nearest medical facility.
“Quiet, dark.” Dan didn’t want to move but realized he couldn’t remain in this chair without someone holding him.
“Okay, let’s take you back to bed.” Scott raked a hand through his hair, moving his cousin would likely hurt him more, given his state.
“No, couch. Room too far.” Dan couldn’t imagine moving more than the two feet or so to the sofa as his world swam before him.
Loki nodded. “Would be better in this room and closer to the fireplace.”
Scott agreed, and the two did all the work getting Dan situated on the couch. Scott strode to the kitchen to pour Dan a glass of water, to ensure he didn’t become dehydrated on top of everything else, as Loki went to grab Dan’s blanket and pillow off his bed.
Dan sipped from the cup Scott held when Loki reentered and began to tuck the blanket around him. Using his left hand, Dan pushed at the covering. “No, too hot.”
Laying the cover over the couch’s back, Loki settled for placing the pillow under Dan’s head, and his friend released a soft hiss followed by a sigh. Viewing the deeply-etched pain lines on Dan’s face, Loki wished he could do more to help. Noting their primary heat source died down, he first checked the weather station on the wall, hoping for better news. He swallowed hard when he found out the temperature dropped another ten degrees. Returning to the hearth, he put two more logs on the fire since they needed to keep warm.
Scott went to retrieve the sterilized cloths they used yesterday and a bowl of water. He returned and bathed his ill cousin’s face with the cold rag before rinsing again, wringing the fabric out, and lying it across Dan’s forehead and eyes. “I’m going to clean your scratches now, but will wait until after you eat breakfast to do your leg.”
“Not hungry … will puke.” Dan started to shiver. “Cold.”
“Okay. Maybe some weak tea.” Scott tugged the lightweight blanket off the back of the sofa to spread over Dan.
“I can make broth. I’ll set the water to boiling again too.” Loki perked up with something to do, which might provide a little relief.
After Scott pulled the chair near Dan, he unwrapped the temporary dressing Loki put on. Upon closer inspection, Scott was relieved to find they indeed were minor gashes. Though to be on the safer side, he asked Loki to bring him the garlic-infused oil to use as an antibiotic. He set about washing the cuts on Dan’s collarbone and arm before dressing them properly. As Scott completed his task, Loki reappeared with half a mug of chicken broth.
“Ma’s famous chicken soup, minus everything except the broth.”
Dan opened his glassy and feverish eyes partway when Loki removed the rag from his face. He tried to push up to drink, but all his energy appeared to dissipate, and he sunk back down. “Tired.”
“I’ll help.” With care, Loki slipped one strong arm behind Dan’s back and elevated him enough so he could sip from the mug he held for him. “Good, huh?”
“Mmm.” Dan managed four mouthfuls of the tasty broth before his stomach revolted, and the liquid spewed forth on to the blanket covering him.
Loki laid Dan down as Scott pulled off the soiled coverlet. The two worked to clean up Dan and brought another blanket from the bedroom. Scott rinsed the cloth again and placed it over Dan’s eyes and forehead as Loki hovered nearby with a hang-dog expression. “Loki, not your fault.”
“I know. I just … this bites.” Loki clamped his mouth shut, remorse growing when Dan whispered.
“Sorry. My fault.”
“Hey, none of that now. If I had been faster in the lockers, this might be me. You rest, okay.” Loki stared at Scott, his anxiety ramping up, worried for Dan. Nothing good ever happens in the woods.
Scott took Dan’s pulse when he noted his respiration rate was more than twenty breaths per minute. Dan’s usual low heartbeat skipped away at ninety-si
x beats a minute. Though he intended to wait until after breakfast, Scott scooted the chair down to the end of the couch. “Gonna check your wound.”
Dan did not acknowledge him.
With caution, Scott pushed up Dan’s pants leg. His cousin hissed in pain at the soft touch when he undid the wrapping, but Scott kept going. Lifting the pad, Scott barely stopped the ‘oh fuck!’ from passing his lips. His eyes shot to Loki’s as he set the bandage aside, leaving the wound uncovered. Motioning for Loki to follow him, Scott stood and headed for the kitchen.
Battling for Daniel
24
November 24
Cabin – Main Room – 4:30 a.m.
Unseen to mortal eyes, three guardian angels stood gaping in shock after viewing Dan’s leg. To the earthbound, it appeared to be an abscessed wound, filled with yellowish-green pus, surrounded by hot, inflamed tissue, and red streaks extending from the site up his right leg, indicating the infection reached his bloodstream. All quite frightening, but nowhere as horrifying as the vision presented to Brody, Theodore, and Leonardo.
A black coil wrapped Dan’s shin, wiggling itself inside at a slow rate. The putrid odor of sulfur and rotting flesh, Samael’s taint, filled their noses when Scott lifted the bandage. Mortals would be concerned about the loss of his leg or life, but the angels were terrified Dan would lose his soul.
“Noooooooo!” ripped from Brody in a mournful lament as powerful and heart wrenching as Dan’s had been the day Brody died. Lurching forward, Brody seized the end of the tentacle and pulled. His hands burned as if plunged into acid, and blackened as the flames of Hell seared him, but he refused to release his hold. “Danny, I won’t fail. Samael can’t have you. Evil won’t win.”
As his aura burst forth, washing the ethereal plane in a golden hue, Brody’s battle cry echoed across the heavens, “Custodes de Innocentio … Solidarity!”
Leonardo gaped as Theodore rushed forward, adding his blue energy to Brody’s gold with a call of “Solidarity!” His eyes widened further as one after another, angels appeared, each adding their auras to the mix as they became one in the fight against evil. He recognized Ripsaw, Buzz, Dutch, Yankee, Shy, Baboon, Gambit, Unicorn, Robbie, and generations of Brodericks among the multitude of others he couldn’t name. The beautiful prism of lights emanating from the combined ethereal forces became blinding, causing him to squint.