Dark Mountains

by Amanda Meredith

  “You need to stay still, Cole. You aren’t healed yet, honey, and moving might cause more damage.” I blinked once as she reached down to hold my hand again. I would’ve sighed if I could have. It felt so good to feel her touching me.

  “I love you so much, Cole,” she murmured. I blinked once and tried to smile, but the tape around the ventilator pulled at my skin.

  I scrunched my eyebrows in frustration. Libby must’ve understood because she reached down and grabbed the bed’s controls. She pushed the nurse’s button and smiled at me.

  “It’s about time we got all this stuff off of you, huh?” She winked at me as the nurse came into the room. “Corporal Andrews is awake and would like these restraints removed now.” I tried to smile again, even though it was pointless to try. The tape pulled at my face again but I kept smiling. I had one hell of a woman.

  Chapter 13

  “All I remember was being assigned the covert op. I don’t even remember leaving for it.” I was sitting up in bed, slurping down the red Jell-O Libby was feeding me. It tasted horrible but it was better than nothing, so I didn’t complain. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call before it… didn’t mean to scare you.”

  It had been two weeks since I’d woken up. The new skin on my arms and neck were healing nicely, though I now had to wear a tight neoprene vest and sleeves. I tried to talk in small sentences, only having to use small breaths. It hurt to breathe deeply and it would take at least another three months for my ribs to completely heal.

  “Cole,” she scolded. “I understood. You’re a soldier and we’re at war.” She smiled and set the Jell-O down. “I was a little upset that no one notified me for a week after you were hurt though. It took a while to understand that they didn’t find you for two days after it happened. And the DNA identification took a few more but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that you’d been alone for a week.”

  “Bet you got here fast when they called,” I murmured. I knew better than to try and chuckle, though I wanted to.

  “Well sure. I threw all my clothes back into my suitcase and jumped on a plane. Good thing I was already in Chicago. They have non-stop flights. It would’ve taken forever to get here from home.” She sighed, carefully sitting down next to me. “I didn’t even open my suitcase until I’d been here almost a week.” She wrinkled her nose and I smiled. I knew Libby.

  “What did you forget?” I knew it was something. She shook her head, refusing to admit but then sighed. She knew I’d bug her until she told me.

  “Underwear.” She said the word as if she hated it. I chuckled, but instantly regretted it. “A whole suitcase of clothes and no damn underwear. I had a nurse pick some up for me but they were the wrong size. European sizes are different than American ones and not properly labeled.” She complained. I tried not to imagine her squeezing into a pair of tight underwear. As much as I wanted to, my body hurt too much to want to react.

  “How’s it going with the station, with you being over here so long?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh I worked that one out just fine. I found a cameraman living here on base and hired him. I’ve been doing special reports on injured soldiers and the effects on their loved ones. I got some really great stuff. A few of the stories even got picked up by the major Louisville affiliate.”

  “Really?”

  “My producer called yesterday. There’s now a trailer outside the studio to collect supplies for troops and their families. It’s only been there a week and it’s nearly full. I found a support group that will be making sure the supplies get where they’re needed. I just couldn’t believe it Cole. All those supplies donated, just in our area. It’s a small town and most of it is poor but they gave regardless.”

  “They’re good people,” I murmured. She smiled and nodded.

  “Anyway, so my producer wouldn’t mind, even if I wasn’t cranking out stories still. He told me to take as much time as I needed.”

  “Is he a vet?” I asked softly. Libby nodded.

  “Korea,” she murmured. “I suppose he understands more than most, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I’m starting to see why.”

  After two more skin grafts and another surgery to remove shrapnel from my face, I was finally able to start physical therapy. I had to use a walker to take just a few steps before the pain in my leg had me crying out. The nurses assured me that with time it would become easier and easier.

  When it was time to remove the bandages from my face, I had hesitated. Libby held my hand and assured me that what lay underneath the gauze wouldn’t matter. The doctor carefully peeled it away and gave me a reassuring smile before handing me a mirror.

  Very slowly, I raised it up and looked at my face. The ugly, thick scarring was gone. There were still a few lines but they were very faint.

  A few days later, we were on a plane heading for D.C. I was being transferred to Walter Reed for physical therapy. I still couldn’t walk more than a few steps so I would be staying at the rehab center. Libby had assured me that she would stay with me and help me get around the house but I had refused. I also knew if I stayed at the hospital, I could stay fully focused on my therapy. I also wanted to be more than capable of keeping Libby safe once we got home.

  I’d started regaining my memories about the explosion and had started having recurring nightmares. The wall of fire rushing towards me with Jackson’s face in outlined within it. The flames swallowing me whole while he laughed. I knew he hadn’t really been there…that he’d had nothing to do with the snake I’d seen. I knew, through my therapy sessions that all soldiers were required to go to when injured, that it was just my subconscious, bringing up the things I feared the most in that adrenaline filled moment. Jackson Michaels hadn’t really been in Iraq but I knew, deep down, that we hadn’t seen the last o

  We landed in D.C. and when the cargo door lowered, I could see my parents and sister waiting for me on the tarmac. I nodded at Libby, and though she frowned at my decision, she handed me my walking cane and reached under my arm to help me stand. She had protested when I told her I wanted to walk off the plane but I had stubbornly refused

  I hadn’t seen my parents yet. The Corp couldn’t afford to send entire families around the world to their injured soldiers and my parents couldn’t afford the trip. Libby had made sure to update them hourly while I was unconscious. After I woke up, I called them every day. My pride had me wanting to look strong for my dad and I didn’t want to appear as injured as I actually was for the sake of Momma and Emma Lou. I leaned heavily on my cane and held onto Libby’s arm with my other hand. Very slowly, nearly stumbling a few times, I made my way down the ramp.

  Momma was crying as Emma Lou held her hand. I locked my eyes with my dad, seeing he was fighting back tears. Once I made it down the ramp, he let out a breath and rushed up to me, wrapping me in a bear hug. My breath hissed as he squeezed and I let go of my cane to hug him back. I could feel his shoulders shaking. I’d never seen my dad cry. I didn’t say anything and he took a big breath before pulling away from me. Ignoring my cane on the ground, he leaned under my other arm, allowing me to put my weight on his shoulder. Libby still had my other arm and between the two of them, I made it to the rest of my family.

  Momma wrapped her arms around my middle as she wept. Libby squeezed my hand before letting go so I could hug her back.

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Colton Timothy Andrews!” She blurted between sobs.

  “I won’t Momma,” I whispered back, feeling strange to be the one comforting her. “I promise.” Momma finally got her crying under control and stepped back. I was leaning heavily on my dad’s arm now. My leg was burning from standing so long.

  “You look like crap.” My sister’s voice had changed since I’d seen her last. I looked over at her and smiled. She had definitely grown up while I’d been gone. She’d been off at college on my last leave so I hadn’t actually seen her in a few years. We emailed and called often enough but it had
n’t prepared me for who I was seeing. She’d filled out, evening the proportions of her tall frame and grown her hair out. She’d also gotten rid of the glasses she’d worn since first grade. My gangly, little sister had become a woman. So now, I had another woman to worry about men chasing after. I ground my teeth before relaxing.

  “And you aren’t such a chicken-legged little brat anymore,” I retorted. She smiled then and there was the little sister I’d left behind. Her dimples were still there, as was the slight gap between her front teeth.

  “I’m glad your home, Cole,” she whispered as she hugged me.

  “Me too, sis.”

  “Well, son,” Dad coughed, trying to force the tears away. “We ought to get you over to the rehab center and settled in.” Dad had never been one for emotional moments. He grabbed the wheelchair that Libby had brought over while I hadn’t been looking. I really didn’t want to sit in it but my leg was really on fire now.

  “Now Cole, you’ve done enough work for one day,” Dad chided, gesturing for me to sit. I didn’t argue. I knew he was trying to give me what I needed but was too prideful to admit. “You just sit on back and let your old man take care of you.” I nodded, grinning a little. Pride be dammed. You never said no to your dad.

  I all but fell in to the wheelchair, sighing when the pain lessened. Libby smiled and patted my shoulder as my dad pushed me away from the plane to the waiting bus. I tried not to let my embarrassment show as the handicap ramp lowered. Running the controls in the bus was a marine wearing full military dress. As the ramp lifted, he saluted me and I saw that his hand was completely prosthetic. Feeling my embarrassment melt away, I saluted back.

  “Welcome home, sir,” he whispered and I felt my smile return.

  “Thank you, Private,” I answered and released my salute. “At ease, soldier.” He relaxed with a smile and turned to sit behind the wheel. It was a short drive from the airfield to the rehab center.

  Momma and Emma Lou spent most of it catching me up on the goings-on I had missed in the past few years. Emma Lou was more than happy to update me on her many boyfriends that she’d deemed unworthy while my parents cringed. Libby tried to fight back a laugh as Emma Lou went on and on. It was a little overwhelming hearing that my baby sister had dated so many people and not been serious about a single one.

  Dad tried to change the subject a few times by bringing up how work was going at the mine but Emma Lou was on a roll and didn’t let him get a word in edge-wise. I was relieved when the bus pulled into the rehab center, effectively ending Emma Lou’s love-life report. After a 15-minute drive, my head was now pounding, matching the throbbing in my leg. Dad must have figured out I was uncomfortable. He managed to talk Momma and Emma Lou into heading back to the hotel.

  “Let the boy get settled, Sheri,” he chided her. “Been on a damn plane for 12 hours already.” I hugged everyone again, wincing when they touched tender spots on my neck and arm. Libby wheeled me down the hallway to the room that would be my home for the next few months.

  The sparse furnishings and bare walls reminded me of a college dorm room before the students moved in. There was a small kitchenette with lower than normal cabinets and countertops. The perfect height to reach from a wheelchair. The unmade bed also had a hoist and pull-bar attached to the ceiling above. Everything about the room screamed disability but also gave the impression of perseverance. For those of us that had to stay here, life would never be the same. But life would go on. The changes to the apartment proved that our injuries could be coped with, that our wounds wouldn’t prevent us from living.

  Libby left me sitting just inside the doorway as she went to fetch my bags from the hallway. She shut the door behind her and came up behind me, laying her hand on one of the few uninjured parts on my shoulder.

  “Will you stay tonight?” I whispered, suddenly feeling quite small.

  “Of course, Cole.” She came around to the front of the wheelchair and knelt beside me. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can stay here as long as you like.” I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. I wanted her here, beside me every day, but I knew getting stronger was something I had to conquer myself. Yet this first night, when everything was so new and so different, I needed her here.

  “I don’t want you to think that we have to…” I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence. We had never talked about our relationship and what it meant. The last real kiss we’d shared was at the house before my deployment. Not that I could do much more than that in this condition anyway. “I can sleep on the couch.” I finally finished and blushed when she chuckled.

  “Cole,” she lifted my hand and brushed her lips across my knuckles. “We’ll have plenty of time to figure out what we have together. I know what you mean.” She stood and held her hands out to help me out of the chair. “You are my best friend and I love you. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that…” she smiled as I stood. “For now.” She chuckled again when I blushed deeper. “You’ll sleep in the bed and I will sleep on the couch. You don’t have to be alone tonight.”

  “Thanks, Libby.” She smiled again, bringing a walker over for me to use.

  “Why don’t you go freshen up?” She nodded towards the bathroom. “I’ll run down to the nurses’ desk and get your therapy schedule for tomorrow. I’ll be back in a jif so just holler at me if you need help, ok?” I nodded and Libby gave me a quick kiss before heading out the door.

  I slowly made my way to the bathroom and sighed in relief when I saw that it was set-up perfectly for me. There were bars and chairs everywhere. Lowered sinks and an easy access shower. So far, I’d only been allowed sponge baths. Not being an invalid, I found this thoroughly degrading to have to rely on someone sponging me down to stay clean. I unconsciously scratched at the neoprene on my chest. The doctor had said in another few days my skin grafts and other injuries would be healed enough for a regular shower. Another week or so and I’d be allowed to use the pool for therapy. I nearly shivered at the thought. After 4 years in the desert, the thought of spending hours in a pool seemed like heaven.

  I walked back to the living room just as Libby was returning with the paperwork for my therapy sessions. She brought them over to me and I scanned through them. I’d be spending no less than six hours a day being tortured. I grimaced but I knew if I ever wanted to get back to some semblance of what I had been, that it would take a lot of hard work.

  Chapter 14

  I was finally heading home. Three months of intense physical therapy, a few more surgeries, a lot of frustration and I was now able to walk with only the occasional aid of a cane. I still had a mild limp that got worse when I stood for too long but I could completely take care of myself. It was time to get back to my life.

  The Marine Corps had offered to extend my career if I wanted to continue serving. I was thankful but took the honorable discharge. I had a different life in mind than training young men to be the best snipers in the US military. I’d had enough of seeing and causing death.

  Sheriff Gellars was waiting for me at the station when I pulled in. He’d lost some weight since I’d seen him last and for some reason; his face didn’t look as strained as I’d remembered.

  “Good to have you home, Cole,” he smiled as I got out of the truck. It made me proud to be able to walk over to shake his hand without limping too badly.

  “It’s definitely good, Sheriff,” I answered as I shook his hand.

  “Call me John Paul,” he corrected stepping back to look at me. “How’s the leg holding up?”

  “Better than I thought it would,” I answered, leaning against the wall of the station. “Not bad enough that I couldn’t chase down a bad guy if I needed to.” John Paul chuckled and leaned against the wall himself.

  “I heard your dad saying that the Marines offered you a pretty decent position as a staff sergeant. Didn’t feel like training grunts?” It was my turn to chuckle.

  “I’ve got a home here,” I answered. “And Libby.”

  �
��And Libby,” he mused, scratching his chin. “She pretty much hasn’t left your side since the explosion, huh?”

  “No,” I nodded. “I don’t know if I’d have made it without her.”

  “She’s special, that girl,” John Paul commented as he lit a cigarette.

  “Yes sir,” I blushed, feeling like I was interviewing to be with Libby instead of for a job. “You sure you need another deputy, John Paul?” I changed the subject before he had the chance to ask any more questions. “Lynch isn’t exactly crime central of Kentucky.”

  “No, it sure ain’t,” he chuckled. “Moonshiners, teenagers out past curfew, domestic disputes, the occasional drunk getting a little too stupid. That pretty much sums it up.”

  “So why offer me a job?”

  “Well for one, you served our country and deserve a good job when you get home,” he answered, flicking his cigarette and grinding it into the gravel with his toe. “And second, I’m starting to feel too old for this shit.” He reached down, picked up the cigarette stub and tossed it into the trash. I need a good deputy that people know and respect. Sheriff is a voted position, but nobody else ever runs. Basically, this is a warm up to be Sheriff on down the road.”

  “I don’t expect that,”

  “Nobody ever does, Cole,” he answered, slapping me on the back. “You want to make a life here, with Libby, I suspect. You grew up here, got roots. People know you and you know them. You’re pretty much tailor made for the job.” He led me into the station, flipping on the light as we walked in. “We just need to get the paperwork filled out and order your sidearm.”

  “I’d like to keep my own if that’s okay?” I murmured, still in a bit of shock from all he’d told me.