The convoy slowed and stopped. The general lumbered out of the Humvee, his large belly protruding from his highly decorated uniform. The soldiers guarding him were all under-weight and malnourished. Yet they served his renegade army with fierce loyalty. I wanted to shake my head in disgust as he lit the cigar hanging from his lips but I stayed perfectly still.
In the Humvee behind him, more soldiers got out as well as a German shepherd. This would delay my escape. The defeated army had started using dogs with nearly every patrol once they realized how well trained our snipers were. The dogs could smell us from longer distances and were well trained in tracking. Our escape routes often had to be changed on the fly.
I heard a shift in the sand beside me and risked a glance. A desert cobra had slithered into the room and lay coiled on the ground next to me. I fought the urge to get up and run instead lying as still as I could as it stared. My childhood fear still welled up inside me and I found myself glancing around the room for Libby’s Pa. I took a slow breath as the snake realized I was too big to eat and slithered into another room. Jackson Michaels was half a world away and this was no time for childhood fears.
I moved my eyes back towards my target, now leaning on the hood of the Humvee as he smoked his cigar. I checked the wind speed again and lined my sights up on his greasy forehead. I let my breath out slowly as my finger gently closed over the trigger. In the space between my heartbeats, I heard the scream of a rocket launcher as my finger slowly squeezed the trigger. Another heartbeat in slow motion as I saw the missile barreling towards me from behind the target as his head flung back in a spray of blood and brains. I jumped up, flinging my rifle to my back and risked a glance back to see how much time I had. There was none.
The missile rammed into the outer wall below my hide-spot before a ball of fire and concrete slammed into me. The force of the blast threw me against the far wall. A section of the roof crashed down, snapping my leg underneath its massive weight. I screamed, knowing it no longer mattered if anyone found me. I saw the face of Jackson Michaels laughing in the smoke before I saw nothing at all.
***
Libby woke up screaming. Her sheets were tangled around her legs and the pillow was lying on the floor. Her eyes tried to focus on the room, adjusting to the darkness. She could have sworn she’d heard her pa laughing. But no one was there.
She was in a hotel in Chicago, working on a story. She was safe here and her father was over 500 miles away. She’d called her mom that morning and her pa had just left for his shift at the mine.
“How many times has he hit you this week, Momma?” She remembered asking her mom.
“Now Libby, he hasn’t done that in a long time,” Carol Ann had stuttered.
“Don’t lie to me, Momma.” Carol Ann had sighed into the receiver.
“I can handle it, Libby.”
“Momma, you have to get out of there. He could kill you!” She’d pleaded with her.
“He wouldn’t do that, Libby,” Carol Ann had reassured her.
“Yes he would, Momma. He’s not right.”
“Libby,”
“Momma, when I get home I’m coming to get you. You can stay with me.”
“I can’t Libby. He’ll come after both of us then.” Carol Ann had sighed and Libby was covering the mouthpiece with her hand so she wouldn’t hear her crying. “If I stay, he won’t bother you.”
“Momma,” Libby had cleared her throat, willing the tears back. “I won’t have you using me as an excuse to stay with that monster. I can take care of myself.”
“Libby, stop.” Carol Ann’s voice was firm. “Cole isn’t here to keep an eye on you right now and I won’t push your pa over the edge.”
“Momma,”
“That’s enough, Elizabeth,” she commanded. “I don’t want you coming over or trying to talk me into leaving. You just stay away from here.” Libby had tried to interrupt but was cut off. “Libby, I won’t have him coming after you. I will do everything I can to keep him away from you. Even if that means not seeing you.” Libby could hear her crying as she spoke. “I have to go now, baby. I love you.” The line had gone dead before Libby could argue.
Shaking her head to clear the memory, she reached over and flipped on the lamp next to the bed. The picture she’d set on the nightstand was an old one. Her and Cole when they were ten. Covered in mud and holding bluebells out to the camera. Cole’s mom had taken the picture.
Cole had been gone two years now. He tried to call or send an email as often as he could but she hadn’t heard from him in three weeks. He’d warned her that something big was coming up and that he might not be able to contact her for a while. She was trying not to be nervous but the fear was beginning to eat away at her.
“Oh Cole,” she whispered, running a finger down the frame. “Where are you?”
Chapter 10
Darkness. I was in complete darkness, trapped in thick glue. When I tried to move, a raging fire swept through my body making me scream in agony. Except I couldn’t scream. The sound died in my throat with nowhere to go. I could hear things, like whispers down a long tunnel. I strained to listen but the noise faded into the black.
Sometimes I dreamed. Libby, strolling down the shore of our lake. Drinking coffee as she leaned against the railing on the balcony. Holding her belly, round with child. Rocking an infant in front of the fireplace.
I had nightmares too. I saw the blackness swallowing me whole, stealing my breath, choking my cries for help. Snakes slithered across my body, sinking their fangs into my skin. My screams were met with silence as they wrapped their scaly bodies around my neck, dragging me to my death. I heard that same evil laughter as they slowly killed me, echoing into the void.
***
Libby opened her eyes slowly, savoring the dream before it disappeared. Her hand rested protectively on her belly where in her dream, a child had been growing. She tried to hold onto the dream as it faded. She sighed, wishing it had been reality as she threw off her blanket.
She padded down the hall and filled a glass with cold water at the sink. Sipping it, she imagined what life would be like when Cole finally got back. How soon it would be until that dream became a reality.
Her cell phone rang, startling her. She dumped out her water and glanced at the clock. No one ever called her at two in the morning. A sliver of apprehension trickled down her spine. She reached for the phone on the third ring.
“Hello?” Horrible laughter echoed on the other end. Her father’s voice. Libby gasped and blinked. The phone was still ringing. She hadn’t answered it yet. She shook her head, promising to quit drinking coffee before bed. She took a deep breath and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Elizabeth Michaels?” The voice was stern and articulated. Not her father.
“Yes, this is Elizabeth.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry for calling so early but it was imperative that I reached you.”
“It’s alright.” She tried swallowing but her throat had gone dry.
“Ma’am, my name is Staff Sergeant McMurray with the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion. I’m calling in regards to Corporal Colton Andrews.”
“Oh God.” Libby slid into a chair as her knees buckled. “Not Cole, please not Cole.”
“Ma’am?” The Sergeant was still speaking. “Ma’am?”
“Is he dead?” Libby was gasping for air, barely holding the phone up.
“Ma’am, please,” he tried cutting in.
“Is he dead?” She repeated.
“No, ma’am. Corporal Andrews is alive.” The phone slid from Libby’s hand and clattered to the floor and she struggled to breath. She could hear the sergeant’s voice calling for her. She bent down and picked up the phone with a shaking hand.
“Ma’am, are you there?” He asked.
“Yes, I’m here,” she whispered. “What happened?”
“Ms. Michaels, you were listed as next of kin on Corporal Andrew’s paperwork with his parents after that.” Th
e sergeant explained. “He has you listed as his fiancé.” Libby tried not to cry at the information. Of course, Cole would do that. It was the only way guarantee the Corp would contact her.
“Yes, that’s right,” she finally answered. “What happened to Cole?”
“Ma’am, Corporal Andrews was very seriously injured in combat a week ago…”
“What?” Libby shouted the sound echoing in her hotel room. “He’s been hurt a week and I’m just now being notified?”
“Ma’am, Corporal Andrews was not wearing his identification at the time of the incident and was not able to be located right away. He was not conscious and able to confirm his identity. We notified you as soon as we could get DNA verification.”
“Oh my God.”
“We can fly next of kin to the nearest base if they are willing and able to go.”
“Of course I’m willing,” she sputtered. “Just where is it that I’m going?”
“He is being treated at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany.”
“Germany?” She squeaked.
“Corporal Andrews isn’t stable enough to transfer stateside,” he answered. “We can fly you coach class to Germany and provide accommodations at Ramstein Air Base. It’s very close to the hospital. Do you have a passport ma’am?”
“I do. I’m in Chicago on business but I always bring it with me.” Libby’s voice cracked as she spoke. She heard the clicking of a keyboard again before he spoke again.
“There’s a flight leaving O’Hare in two hours, can you make it there in time?”
“I can,” Libby answered. Her hands were shaking again.
“Your tickets, flight schedules and base passes will be waiting at the main entrance. We’ll have a car waiting for you in Frankfurt.” Libby hung up the phone and stared at it for a few minutes. Then snapping out of it she grabbed her suitcase and started throwing things in it. She called for a cab, grabbed her cell and the picture off her nightstand before sprinting out the door. She stopped at the front desk to check out, filling out the address form to mail anything she had forgotten to grab. Then she called her producer to tell him she was now on her way to Europe.
Libby caught her plane on time and arrived in Frankfurt nearly nine hours later. A young woman in a marine uniform was holding a sign with her name on it when she finally got through the gate at customs.
“Ms. Michaels, I’m Lance Corporal Carlton. I’ll be taking you to Ramstein.”
“Thank you, Lance Corporal, but I’d rather go straight to the hospital.”
“If you wish, ma’am,” she answered. “This way.”
Libby followed the woman through the airport to a car waiting in the lot. Libby was thankful the Corp had sent a car; the signs were all in German and the streets all went in the wrong direction. Between that and sheer exhaustion, Libby was sure she would’ve gotten lost or in an accident trying to find the way herself.
“You might want to rest while we drive,” the Lance Corporal suggested. “It’s about an hour and a half drive.”
“No,” Libby whispered, though she was utterly exhausted, she was too worried about Cole. “Do you know Cole?”
“Corporal Andrews?” The Lance Corporal gave her a sympathetic smile. “Everybody knows Andrews.” She smiled again. “He’s one of the best squad leaders in the 2nd. And a crack shot. He gave a sniper training course a few months ago… hit a 2-centimeter target almost 2 miles away with high winds. Dead center…” she trailed off when she saw a tear sliding down Libby’s face. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Call me Libby, Lance Corporal,” she whispered, wiping the tear away. “I’m sure Cole has a much better gun now but he used to shoot tin cans from that far away with his old 30.06.” She smiled when the woman’s jaw dropped in shock. “He tried teaching me but I could only shoot about half as far with the same accuracy.”
“I’m so sorry, Libby,” the Lance Corporal whispered.
“Do you know how bad it is?” Libby questioned as she watched the trees flash past.
“Some of the guys from my unit were talking the other day. One of them has a cousin in Andrew’s unit,” she paused before continuing. “Look, Libby. They don’t fly family over here unless it’s pretty serious.” Libby only nodded and stared out the window. She wouldn’t lose hope. Cole needed her to be the strong one now.
Chapter 11
Libby was surprised at how quickly her escort got her through security and to the intensive care unit of the hospital. Her heart began to race as she signed in at the nurse’s station. Lance Corporal Carlton squeezed her arm in sympathy before turning away. Libby watched her walk down the hallway for a moment, feeling utterly alone. A young nurse with a German accent led her to a room down the hall that was darker than the rest of the unit. Libby tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she stepped into the room.
There were so many bandages on his body that she wouldn’t have been able to tell it was him if she hadn’t seen his name on the chart hanging at the end of the bed. Wires and tubes seemed to be coming from everywhere, leading to multiple monitors and machines. Cole’s body was trembling, his arms and legs twitching beneath padded restraints. Libby stopped, bile rising in her throat. The nurse continued to pull her forward towards the bed.
“He looks better now than when he first got here,” she murmured, laying a hand on Libby’s back. Libby’s hand was shaking as she reached out to touch Cole’s fingers. His hand twitched and she pulled her hand back quickly.
“It’s a pseudo-seizure,” the nurse explained.
“A what?” Libby’s voice was shaking.
“A pseudo-seizure,” she repeated. “They have the physical symptoms of a seizure except that the EEG is completely normal. He’s being kept sedated but his muscles are still able to twitch.”
“What is wrong with him?” Libby asked, reaching again for Cole’s hand as it continued to quiver. His hand stilled when she finally touched him. “In layman’s terms, please.”
“There’s quite a bit wrong at the moment, I’m afraid,” the nurse answered as she pulled a chair closer to the bed for Libby to sit in. “We’ll start off with his head and work our way down.” Libby nodded, unable to speak.
“Corporal Andrews sustained a traumatic brain injury as a result of an explosion. The impact caused his brain to bounce in his skull and swell. Luckily, in Corporal Andrews’s case, he sustained a skull fracture as well but it has actually helped relieve the pressure on his brain by giving it more room to expand. Dr. Heinrich did drill a small hole to insert a probe for monitoring the pressure. It started dropping yesterday so the swelling is going down.”
“Will there be any permanent damage?” Libby’s voice was barely a whisper. Broken bones, damaged organs, scarred emotions, they could all heal. Brain damage was permanent. Irreversible.
“You never know with a brain injury, Ms. Andrews. But it wasn’t too severe and the swelling started going down quickly. The MRI, CAT scan and SPECT scan all looked fine. It looks like the only issues he may have to deal with would be psychological.”
“What else?” Libby asked with a stronger voice.
“Corporal Andrews…”
“Please, call him Cole,” Libby whispered, as she stroked his hand.
“Cole’s right femur was broken and had punctured through his thigh. The bone nicked the femoral vein, which again, was lucky.”
“How so?”
“Had the bone nicked the artery, Cole would’ve lost his leg and more than likely, his life. The artery wouldn’t have been able to deliver the oxygenated blood to the lower leg and the tissues would have started to die very quickly. But it was the vein that was nicked so the lower leg still received oxygen before the blood was lost. It seems that Cole was in and out of consciousness while he was trapped and was able to use his belt to create a tourniquet above the wound and use a bootlace with part of his shirt to apply continuous pressure to the wound. It would’ve been extremely painful to put pressure on the leg but he mana
ged to stay conscious long enough to control the bleeding.” She pointed towards his leg, which was thickly bandaged.
“Will he lose his leg?” Libby almost couldn’t ask but she wanted to know everything.
“He had surgery yesterday to put a rod inside the bone. Since it was an open fracture everything inside the leg has been exposed to the elements, the chance of severe infection is very great. He’s on some very high-powered antibiotics but we’re keeping a close eye on it. There’s a slight chance, especially if he develops a bone infection, but the doctor shouldn’t have to amputate.” Libby let out the breath she’d been holding and squeezed Cole’s hand. She took another deep breath.
“What else?”
“He has 3 broken ribs; one of them punctured his spleen…” Libby gasped. “They didn’t have to remove it though.” The nurse explained. “The rib basically kept the bleeding to a minimum. When he got here, they removed the rib and the bleeding wasn’t too serious. It basically healed on its own.”
“What are these other bandages?” Libby pointed at various parts of Cole’s body. He seemed to be hurt everywhere, except for the hand she was stroking.
“Cole had some pretty severe gashes and burns,” she explained. “A few of the ones on his arm and the back of his neck will require skin grafts. A broken nose and some shrapnel embedded in the cheek muscle. A plastic surgeon will remove it later.” She paused, seeing the tears sliding down Libby’s face.
“His wounds are pretty serious…mainly the brain injury and leg but he isn’t nearly as bad as we’ve seen here.” She seemed to shudder involuntarily as she explained. “The seizures are a bit complicated though. The doctor thought with the brain-swelling going down that they would taper off but they seem to be happening more frequently. In fact, this is the longest time he’s gone between them today, since you got here.” She smiled. “You know, it’s been my experience that there’s some things medicine can’t fix.” Libby looked away from Cole for a moment. The nurse was smiling at her. “I think he needs you.”
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