Fade - Fighting Fate #3

by Maree Green

  Dr. Anderson watched the monitor for a while before glancing back at me. “Now, Amy. Push.”

  Taking a deep breath, I squeezed Amber’s hand and pushed.

  Staff surrounded me. Dr. Anderson nodded. “Good girl. That’s perfect. We’re nearly there.” Intently watching the machine, she paused with her hand on my thigh. “Okay, here we go . . . ”

  Amber clenched my hand harder.

  “And push.”

  Although I could feel something happening down there, I had no idea what. All I knew was that the room suddenly exploded with activity. Medical staff were everywhere. Then came the sound of the tiniest little cry I’d ever heard.

  Before she was whisked from the room, I managed to catch a glimpse of the tiniest little arms and legs flailing in the air.

  Dr. Anderson sighed. “It’s a girl . . . ”

  Chapter 54

  Daniel

  Deployed time: 25 weeks

  MIA: 15 weeks

  Amy, I don’t know what day it is exactly, but from what I can get off the other prisoners, I’m sure it’s now somewhere around the time I should be coming home to you. I can’t even begin to tell you what this is doing to me. I’m broken.

  Daniel.

  My breath labored and my hands shook. Pain ripped through my gut as my stomach tightened, yet again. Heaving, my body arched, hands clenching in the dirt, knuckles scraping against the rock.

  Wesley, my new cellmate, groaned from the other side of the cell. He was no better than I was. We’d both been this way for two days now. It felt like a slow, torturous death.

  Collapsing onto the dirt, I rolled to the side and curled up into a fetal position. I’d never felt so sick in all my life. Everything hurt. I honestly thought I could be dying. It wouldn’t surprise me. I probably had food poisoning.

  Then the coughing started, reminding me it could be so much fucking worse. It tore at my insides, ripped every muscle, with each sharp contraction that hit. Wesley followed, his body sliding farther down the wall until he resembled me on the floor.

  Noises came and went. I heard sounds of locks being clicked, doors being opened and closed, and sharp commands in an Arabic tongue. But I couldn’t move.

  Something splashed on the floor beside me, followed by something nudging me hard in the back. I thought it was a foot. The voice grew louder. I groaned, and the voice went away.

  I didn’t know how long I lay like that on the floor. Wesley didn’t move either. I hoped like hell he was still alive. Too much time felt like it had passed to be real, but then I heard more noises, and a bucket appeared in front of my face. I sighed as a soft hand caressed my forehead.

  “Come.”

  Forcing my eyes open, I found a girl’s face staring back at me. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought it might have been the same girl I’d seen in there before.

  She tugged on my arm. “Come.”

  I tried to shake my head. Come where? I didn’t understand.

  “I help,” she said, tugging again.

  Using every ounce of energy I had left, I shifted my body, trying to let her help me. Together, we moved to the other side of the cell, where the cloth that was my bed lay. Urging me back down, she propped my head up with some towel and went to retrieve her bucket.

  I watched her wring the cloth out before bringing it up to wipe my face. The frown on her brow held deep concentration and sadness. “Sick,” she said. “Very sick.”

  Yeah. It seemed that way to me too.

  When she was done, she held out a little cup with some brown liquid inside. Pressing it into my hand, she gestured with her hand to drink. “Take,” she said. “Help.”

  Under normal circumstances, there was no chance in hell I’d drink that shit. But I was beyond caring. I hurt, and I wanted it to end. Even if it meant it killed me.

  Raising the cup, I threw it down, grimacing when the liquid burned all the way down my throat.

  Dropping my head back again, I let go, all my energy used. The girl watched me for a while, slowly dabbing the cloth over my face.

  “Mali,” she said. I opened my eyes. She pointed at her chest. “Mali,” she said again.

  The fuzziness in my brain was trying to tell me something important, but I couldn’t decipher it. Eventually, I figured it out. Her name was Mali. Taking a deep breath, I tried to place my hand on my own chest, but failed. “Daniel,” I said, my eyes barely opening. “I’m Daniel.”

  Between blinks, I saw her look over her shoulder, watching for the guards. She leaned forward, carefully wiping the cloth through my hair. “You free Yazidi girls,” she whispered.

  In my haze, I almost missed it.

  My focus sharpened. “Yes. I did.”

  She locked her gaze on mine for a long while. Then she nodded. “I help.”

  I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but I prayed it meant she was going to help me get the hell out of here.

  Chapter 55

  Amy

  Deployed time: 26 weeks

  MIA: 16 weeks

  From: Amy Benson -amyb0307@gmail.com

  To: Daniel Stephenson -djstephenson96@gmail.com

  Date: Fri, October 7, 2016 at 4:48 PM

  Subject: Angel

  Daniel,

  Today our little angel turns one month old. She is still the most beautiful little thing I have ever seen. Every day she continues to grow, ounce by ounce. She barely needs the machine to help her breathe anymore. She’s a little fighter, just like her Dada.

  Today she weighed in at 2lb 3oz. The doctors tell me it won’t be long until she’s ready to try breathing on her own. I can’t tell you how excited I am to think of her sleeping in her own little crib like a healthy full term baby. She’s everything to me. Until you come home, she’s all I have.

  I’ve tried to think of the words that would express just how much I miss you. This last week has been worse than any other. Knowing you should’ve been home by now breaks my heart. I love you more than ever. Please come back to me.

  I will wait for you xxx

  Amy.

  I saw him the second I pulled into Daniel’s mom’s drive. It was cruel, really. Hope lived inside me every day of my life, so seeing a marine standing on the front porch was surely going to have me wishing it was Daniel.

  As I parked and tried to compose my racing heart, I watched him slowly make his way down the front steps. I didn’t miss the way he slightly favored his left leg.

  Stepping out of my car, I met his gaze with a cautiousness that spoke of protection. I couldn’t stand to hear any bad news right now.

  “Mrs. Stephenson?” he asked.

  I swallowed. “Yes?”

  He stepped forward and offered me his hand. “My name is Darryl Johns. I was in Daniel’s squad in Syria.” Stepping back, his expression turned hesitant. “I was there when he went missing.”

  My breath shook. It was happening. I was finally going to find out exactly what he went through. I tried to collect myself, but it was hard. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to cope with whatever he told me. “You were?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “They won’t tell me anything other than there was an explosion and he disappeared,” I said, tears pricking my eyes.

  He frowned. It was clear this was difficult for him as well. Emotion flared around him. Nodding, he twisted the cap in his hands. “We were in Raqqa, aiding in an extraction,” he said, swallowing hard. “A group of Yazidi women and children.”

  I remained silent. I just needed to hear it all, then I could breathe.

  “We got them out okay, but we were ambushed on our way out. Daniel was clear of it, but came back when my team got cut off. He—”

  I pressed my hand to my mouth. I knew what was coming. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I needed this. I needed to know.

  Darryl struggled to compose himself. “He saved me. I’d hurt my leg, and he got me out of there. He pushed me over a wall just before the explosion hit.”

  Oh
, God.

  “I don’t . . .” Darryl paused, his gaze moving past me, toward the curb. His eyes widened before he took a step backwards, the blood draining from his face. “What is this?” he asked, confusion taking over.

  Looking back, I saw Ryan striding up the drive. I instantly understood.

  “Corporal Johns,” I said, needing to reassure him. “This is Daniel’s brother, Ryan.”

  Darryl looked at me, trying to make sense of my words.

  “They’re identical twins.”

  I saw understanding come to him, but I could tell it still freaked him out. He stared at Ryan the entire way up the drive.

  “What’s going on?” Ryan demanded when he reached my side.

  Darryl couldn’t stop staring at him.

  I shifted on my feet. “Corporal Johns served with Daniel in Syria. He was there when the explosion hit.”

  Ryan went deadly quiet.

  “Darryl,” I said, sickness creeping into my stomach. “Please. Tell me everything you know. Do you know what happened after the explosion? Did you see him at all?”

  Darryl’s gaze slowly found its way back to me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I couldn’t tell you. It was chaos. Debris went everywhere. I was dragged to safety, while Sarge and Nelson searched for Stephenson. The enemy closed in pretty quick and pushed us back. We tried to hold our ground until he was found, but the women and children were in danger, and we were ordered out.”

  He looked down at his shoes, disappointment taking over.

  I braced myself. “Do you think there’s any chance he could still be alive?”

  Corporal Johns forced his gaze to meet mine again. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t tell you, ma’am.”

  Lifting my chin, I pleaded with my eyes. “Tell me,” I said. “Personally, do you think there’s a chance he could still be alive?”

  I knew it was a shit question to ask, and an even shittier position to put someone in, but I needed to know.

  Corporal Johns struggled before me. “I . . . I really don’t know, ma’am. I think . . . ” His nostrils flared. “Personally, I don’t see how anyone could’ve survived that explosion.”

  It was like a knife to my heart. “But you did.”

  Slowly, he nodded. “I did.”

  Silence fell on us all. I didn’t know what else to say—what else I could possibly ask. It was out there now. Ryan had been saying it for months. And now Daniel’s squad said the same thing. Everyone thought he was gone.

  So why couldn’t I?

  ***

  Sitting on the bed in Daniel’s room, I stared without seeing. I felt so empty, so confused and disorientated. Since giving birth, I’d had Mae to focus on—to distract me from everything else. I’d been content with my unwavering belief that Daniel was still alive. I was happy to stubbornly wait until the end of time for him to come back to me.

  But what if he really was gone? What if he was never coming back to me? Was that any way to live my life? Forever alone? I knew I’d always have Mae, but was it fair for me to deny her a father figure?

  I thought of Ryan. He’d already told me he’d be there for her as long as she needed him. In whatever way I wanted. Deep down, I knew what that meant. So far, I’d just chosen to take it as a nice gesture from a kind uncle.

  A light rap on the door brought me out of my thoughts to see the man in question standing in the doorway.

  “How are you doing?”

  My shoulders sank in defeat. “I don’t know. I feel confused.”

  He nodded and walked into the room, lowering himself to sit beside me. Taking my hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know you don’t have to come up with all the answers right now, don’t you? It’s okay to just give yourself time. To let everything you learned sink in.”

  I listened to him carefully. Since the day he’d come to visit me in hospital, he’d been nothing but kind to me. There’d been no more mention of Daniel not coming back. No more pressure to move on at all. He’d simply made himself available to me. Whenever I needed anything.

  He’d visited the hospital every chance he got to see Mae, doting on her and buying her anything and everything he thought she might need when she finally came home. And he listened. Any time I needed to talk about Daniel. He listened.

  It was Ryan’s change in attitude that made me decide to make the move to live in Daniel’s room. Knowing Mae would be coming home soon, I wanted to be closer to her family. Closer to Daniel. Ryan hadn’t even batted an eyelid when I told him. He just nodded and helped me make it happen.

  Squeezing his hand back, I gave him a tired smile. My grip on everything I believed in was slowly starting to slip. I didn’t know what to think anymore. I was tired of constantly having to be so strong. I wanted someone to lean on. Someone to hold me and tell me they’d take the weight.

  Just for a little while.

  Chapter 56

  Daniel

  Deployed time: 30 weeks

  MIA: 20 weeks

  Amy . . . Please forgive me . . . I tried. I love you more than my own life.

  Screams still echoed inside the walls. Hope and strength had been replaced with desolation and despair. I didn’t know what my purpose was here. My captors didn’t speak to me or acknowledge me in any way.

  Other prisoners came and went. The new ones brought reports of torture or execution of the ones who’d left. The only positive story I’d heard was of Miguel. He’d been released to his government. I’d cried when I heard that. He was the lucky one.

  Days didn’t matter much, but each time someone new arrived, we still asked. According to the one who arrived today, it was November 5th. That meant I’d been in captivity for almost five months. It also meant my baby was due to come into the world in less than six weeks. It tore my fucking heart out.

  I didn’t pray much these days, but sitting there, slumped against the wall, I closed my eyes and asked for a miracle. Please let me make it home to see my baby. Both of them . . .

  The new guy wept in the cell next to mine, his body huddled in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees as he rocked, repeating his mantra, over and over again. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.

  Another prisoner, close to insanity from captivity, screamed, unable to cope with the despair. Just shut the fuck up!

  Screwing my eyes shut tighter, I tried to block it all out, praying for my miracle.

  The main door clunked open with a loud, grating bang. Everyone fell silent. Except for the new guy. He was too far gone.

  The usual guards appeared, rifles in hand. Behind them, trailed the girl. Mali. I’d seen her a few times since the day she’d spoken to me, but not close enough to speak again.

  I watched her as they let her into the empty cell on the other side of me. Until yesterday, it had been occupied by a Russian by the name of Anton Sokolov. He’d only been in here for forty-eight hours before being traded. During that time, he’d managed to spill a considerable amount of his own blood, which was likely why Mali was back again with her bucket.

  Forcing myself to my feet, I stretched my body out. I didn’t do much exercise anymore. I didn’t receive enough sustenance for that. I barely got enough to keep my vital organs working.

  One of the guards stood watch near the door. I knew if I approached Mali I would be asking for trouble. Mostly for her.

  As she scrubbed the floor of the cell, I started walking the perimeter of my own. Twice, she met my gaze with an intense look. Something about it made my heart rate pick up.

  With methodical movements, she worked, moving closer and closer to the bars that separated her from me. My legs shook, but I continued to walk. When she was almost done, and I thought I had missed any opportunity I might have had to talk to her, I saw her tuck a tiny piece of paper under the metal bars. If I hadn’t been watching her like a hawk, I would’ve missed it, she was that quick.

  Two seconds later, the guard barked at her to finish up.

  She stood, scooping up
the bucket as she went, giving me one last glance before being escorted out the door.