The plane ride had been agony from the moment it had begun. Dawn had lost track of just how long she’d been awake now. Two days? Three? Even the exhaustion that wracked her body could not overcome the terror that had settled upon her heart. It had been a nightmare of a day that had started days ago, and she felt utterly alone in its grasp.
There was a small twitch of movement next to her and she turned her head to see Candace shuffle her feet next to her, the older woman just as anxious and tense as she. They had been notified almost at the same time and had been discreetly escorted to the airport together, with only the barest information that they could be given: their husbands had been in combat and had sustained life-threatening injuries, with both of them being transported to a major medical hospital in Germany. Not a word since they had departed, and the absence gnawed at her like a hunger.
“It’s been eight hours since we took off,” Candace murmured. “They’ll have news for us once we land. At least we’ll know for certain then.”
Dawn wanted to nod, but couldn’t find it in her to agree. She had barely been married to Marc, only a little over three years and much of that having been spent separate. She had struggled with the question of what she would do if he never returned, and had never truly been able to forge a clear answer for herself. The agony of not knowing had been terrible; knowing that he now lay on the knife’s edge was excruciating.
“Mrs. Reyes? Mrs. Brody?” The captain of the aircraft stood beside their seats with a beleaguered, yet professional air about him.
“Yes?”
“Just letting you both know that we’ll be landing shortly,” he replied. “When you arrive, there will be an escort waiting to take you to the instillation immediately.”
“Thank you, sir,” Candace replied. She had done the speaking for the both of them throughout the flight, Dawn hardly finding the strength to even raise her head.
“My pleasure. Let the attendants know if you need anything, we’ll do what we can.”
“It’s very much appreciated, thank you.” Candace kept a smile as he walked away before glancing out the window and letting her visage fall back into worry. She reached out for the younger woman’s hand and gave what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “At least we’ll know.”
Dawn was aware, but still couldn’t find it in her to be ready for the unthinkable answer.
Their descent did not come soon enough for their standards, but the plane eventually began to dip further down to the earth and at last came to ground, the late hour allowing them little difficulty in reaching the terminal. Each second now was torturous, Dawn wanting nothing more than to spring out of this wretched seat and get any scrap of news she could or else she’d have a heart attack-
A kick in her stomach and she forced herself to take a breath. It had not been all that long ago she had been hospitalized herself, and the precious life she carried within was as worried as she was. It would not do well to panic, lest more problems arise from it. But if Marc- if he didn’t- how am I going to endure this?
“Come on,” Candace said giving Dawn a small nudge. “Up and out, they’ll be waiting for us. Let’s go.”
The order was beneficial, preventing her mind from being any further muddled by its own worried machinations. Dawn rose and left the plane, the flight attendants there at the exit to give the pair of them cheerful smiles and waves as they departed. It would be a long walk out of the terminal, and Dawn’s joints complained with every step. She was more than just ‘merely’ tired at this midnight hour.
“Mrs. Brody, Mrs. Reyes?” They had seen him the moment they had left the gates behind them, his crisp, clean uniform and calm appearance a stark contrast to the slovenly, tired souls that wandered the airport in the late hours of the night. “I’m Chaplain Thompson, I’m here to take you to Landstuhl. We have a car waiting for you outside. Do you have any luggage with you that needs to be picked up?”
“Just what we have on us,” Candace answered, even her professional demeanor beginning to break at the sight of him. “I know it’s not the best place to ask, but-”
“Are they still alive?” Dawn asked, her voice finally finding its way into the world, a croak after its long lack of use.
Thompson’s expression clouded only for a moment, but still enough to bring a chill to the place. “It would be better if we wait until we’re in the car,” he answered. “If you have no need to wait for anything, would you please follow me?”
Dawn felt her heart grow brittle, ready for the moment in which to shatter. She didn’t know just how much longer she could hold it down, all her emotions roiling within her like a sea in a storm. Nevertheless, with a little push from Candace, she was able to walk out the door and into a waiting car that swiftly pulled out from the airport and onto the road.
“I hope the trip wasn’t too rough for both you,” Thompson remarked as he took his seat across from the exhausted pair of women, taking a small pause to bring a bottle of water to his lips. “I know all of this must be a miserable experience for you both. We should reach the hospital in a little less than an hour.”
“Enough! Just tell me already, please!” Dawn snapped, amazed she had managed to keep herself composed for this long. “I can’t stand it, just- is Marc alive? Is my husband alright, is her husband alright? Just spit it out!”
“Please, just- I need to know,” Candace added, her voice more even but still brimming with that same sense of fear and worry. “Just tell us. We’re alone here.”
Thompson looked at them both, his willed composure breaking down for the time being as he regarded both of them. “I understand. Just…” he took a breath and allowed himself one last reprieve. “Well, then… Mrs. Reyes, Staff Sergeant Reyes is still alive. He’s in ICU and is day by day. We don’t really know how he’s doing –he’s still weak and he lost a lot of blood- but he is fighting and he is still very much alive. He does remain in critical condition, so you’ll only be allowed a brief visitation period with him when you arrive.”
Alive. He’s alive! “What happened to him? You said blood loss? How bad?”
“Both of his legs were severed in an explosion. He lost a lot of blood very quickly and the shock was tremendous. He faded in and out of consciousness the first few hours, but he kept coming to. Again, he still is very much critical. He’s not done fighting yet.”
Dawn tried to fathom what she would see when she arrived. Her beautiful, magnificent husband, her champion; brave, strong, powerful, now so weak and barely clinging to life. He could still make it out, but it would be an uphill battle- and after that, what a struggle he would have to overcome! What she felt inside her at the thought of it was not anxiety, nor was it happiness, but at least it was not the dread of not knowing anything at all.
The silence was filled by a great, damp sniff and Dawn’s thoughts turned away from her husband and she turned to see Candace beside her, the tears already beginning to form and threaten to spill over. “So, then,” the steadfast woman said thickly, “I’m guessing because you didn’t say it… so Tom’s dead, then.”
Thompson took a breath and looked directly at her, his own eyes now heavy and held down by the weight of testimony. “Mrs. Brody, I am truly sorry,” he said, “but your husband has passed away.”
Candace gave a nod and the first tear fell down her face in a crooked streak. Another series of nods and her face began to crumple, her ever-sturdy composure slowly coming apart as the tears multiplied and continued to pour down. “Alright,” she said, her voice tight, “at least I know.” And then she allowed her grief its time, falling into her hands as she wept.
Dawn tried her best to comfort her friend, putting an arm around and holding her tightly as she did what she could to ignore the thick, bubbling guilt that had already come rising to the surface.
The rest of the trip was spent in subdued silence, not a single word said among them. When they at last arrived, Chaplain Thompson remained alongside Candace as she was led elsewhere, presumably to allow time in solitude so as to cope with the news. Dawn, however, was greeted by one of the nurses who worked at the hospital, and was led deep into the confines of the quiet building and onto the upper floors.
“How is he right now?” she asked.
The nurse, a wearied-looking woman with frazzled hair, hesitated before answering. “Chaplain Thompson did tell you that your husband was still in critical condition, correct?”
“Yes.” Dawn felt her breath catch.
“He’s battling a fever right now-”
“Does he have an infection?”
“The doctor will be able to tell you more in detail. There’s- there’s a lot of damage, ma’am,” the nurse replied. “It’s not a guarantee that he’ll make it.”
“He will.” Dawn’s words were fierce, more for her own comfort than for anyone else. “Marc’s a fighter. He’ll live, and don’t you doubt it!”
The nurse gave a nod and led her out of the elevator and down the corridor towards a room near the end of the hall, pausing at the threshold before turning to Dawn and saying, “Let me make sure you’re cleared to come in first. It’ll only be a moment while I speak with the doctor.”
He was right there on the other side of the wall. Dawn rocked back and forth on uneasy footing as the adrenaline clashed with exhaustion and tearing her to shreds inside. She wanted nothing more than to rush through that door and hold him tight just in case it might the last chance she’d ever get and she couldn’t stand not being able to really be with him if it were to be their true farewell-
A heat across her body and Dawn felt a thrill of horror as she caught her hands aglow, her emotions running haywire and causing her well-buried powers to reach for the surface. Fight or flight instinct, and in the exact wrong place! She thrust them into her pockets and forced herself to take a breath, then another, and another. She felt the fire in her blood lessen and the green glow across her palm faded away. She could withstand this, even if it meant holding down with every ounce of her willpower to make it so.
“Mrs. Reyes?”
“Can I go in?”
The doctor, a blonde-haired woman with a gangly appearance held up her hands to stop her from entering for a moment. “Not quite yet, hold on,” she said. “I’m Major Stennis, your husband’s under my care right now. I’ll let you in for only a brief second, but if he’s asleep, I ask you to let him stay that way. He’s been through a lot in the past few hours, so don’t wear him out.”
“OK. Can I go in now?”
“Yes, you may now-”
Dawn pushed her aside and strode through in an instant, her heart breaking at the ravaged form that lay across the hospital bed, so diminished and fragile as he lay on those clean linen sheet; what remained of his legs were wrapped in thick bandages that still held the dim stain of blood even after all these hours, and small patches continued to worm his way up the thigh where additional burns and scarring had found their mark; a clamminess had fallen on his skin that was now covered in all sorts of sensors and IVs, the likes of which making him seem more akin to a dying machine than a man that still fought to live. But as she still stood there regarding him, dark-brown eyes that were clouded with pain and illness turned and caught sight of her, the light of recognition burning through the miasma.
“Dawn…”
She felt tears burn hot against her cheeks as she walked over and took a seat next to him, taking his hand in hers and finding herself horrified at just how little strength he could manage in response. “Hey,” she replied, forcing herself to speak to him. “It’s good to see you.”
“Yeah…” His voice was distant, so far removed from him that she wondered how he had even been able to see that it was her. “I’m tired.”
“It’s alright, I know you are,” she said. With her free hand she reached out and pressed it against his forehead finding him burning to the touch. Despite her wishes to remain, some small worm of logic found its way into her brain and spoke sense: she needed to let him recover, not continue trying to tend to her own emotions while he was this precarious. “Get some sleep and you’ll feel better, alright?”
“Yeah. Good to see you.”
“And it’s good to see you.” She kissed his hands and forced herself to leave her place beside him, knowing that she could have remained there for days on end. “Get some rest, OK? I’ll be right here with you.”
Dawn walked alongside Major Stennis as she tried to regain her self-control, torn by fury and delight and terror at the few moment she had spent alongside her husband. He was still so weak- and there was so much of him that was gone, and he had seemed so far away!
“I know you probably have a bunch of questions,” Stennis began.
Dawn didn’t wait for her to say another word. “He’s clearly got an infection. Why haven’t you done anything to stop it?”
“We had to make sure the bleeding would stop first, it was- severe. It was hoped that we could preserve more of his leg, but the wound is turning gangrene more rapidly than we expected,” was the reply.
“So you tried to close the wound. Why didn’t you correct this in the first place before it could even be a problem?”
“We were trying to save as much of his legs as we could,” Stennis said, her even-keeled tone a clear match for Dawn’s frantic outburst. “I know it’s not easy to look at right now. We were hoping he’d be able to fight it off, but it’s not looking that way. He’ll have to undergo further surgery.”
Dawn was frustrated, but did her best to accept the answer. “So you’ll have to amputate further,” she surmised.
“Just below the knee. He’s scheduled for first thing tomorrow morning, I promise. When the time comes, I’ll make sure you’re nearby so you can know how things went the moment it’s all over.”
“At- at least it’s something,” Dawn forced herself to say, though the words were as bitter as gall on her tongue. She felt a limpness begin to take hold deep in her bones and she began to sag, subconsciously leaning back toward the wall to protect herself from falling.
“Mrs. Reyes, you’re exhausted. Please, go get yourself some rest,” Stennis remarked, taking in her wearied appearance and sparing a look of sympathy. “Your baby will need it just as much as you do.”
Try as she might to fight it, the long day of hell had at last made its final blow, and Dawn could do little more than nod, being led to a nearby room and given a comfortable chair in which to rest. At least I got to see him, she thought to herself, moments before slipping away.
The hand that pressed lightly on her shoulder and shook her awake was an unwelcome one. Her body voiced displeasure the moment her senses were attuned to the waking world, sore joints and a still-tired mind wanting nothing more than to continue drifting on through the infinity. A voice added to the efforts and Dawn muttered something that not even she could decipher, her conscious self coming all the more out of its slumber. Unwillingly, she opened her eyes and saw Candace sitting across from her and attempting to display a semblance of a sympathetic smile, her own features hollow and empty from the personal turmoil she had endured.
“I’m really sorry to wake you,” she said, her voice still dulled.
“It’s alright.” Dawn stretched out somewhat and forced herself to awaken further, the heavy blanket of sleep not easily thrown from her shoulders. “What time is it?”
“A little past nine in the morning. The hospital staff asked if I wanted to wake you and let you know Marc’s back in surgery.”
The news, though dear to her heart, was not enough to fully rouse her. “Oh. Right, yes. I should- I should go wait.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Tired. I could’ve slept the rest of the day,” Dawn admitted. As she truly began to take in the world around her, the thought rose in her brain to concern herself with her friend’s troubles. “Are you- Candace, I- are you…” every word she tried to summon felt insignificant, unworthy of being spoken in the face of such loss.
“I’ll endure it. I have to,” Candace replied. “What more can I do now?”
“I am so sorry. I can’t imag-”
“Yes, you can,” she cut through. “You almost had to deal with it yourself. So hold on to Marc, when all this is done.”
Dawn wasn’t sure what to say next. “So what are you going to do next?”
“Tom and I are going… back to the States. We’ll have him buried and- I don’t know what comes after. I guess I’ll have to figure it out on my own, won’t I?” Candace tried to fake a smile that could help hide her tears and failed, the shadows that held strong on her features unwilling to fade away. She averted her gaze and crumpled, forcing her own roiling emotions back down under control. “We always found a way. Now I’ll do it alone.”
Dawn thought of Marc, still having to struggle for his life, and felt that hot bubble of guilt in her stomach again. What could she possibly say to her friend after all of this and it even feel genuine?
“Dawn, they’re- well, they’re waiting on me downstairs right now. I’ll travel with the casket and be back in the air in about an hour or so.” Candace held the young woman tightly, looking straight in her eyes with a fiery, unclouded gaze that spoke to one last gasp of strength that still remained. “Now you listen to me, and you listen good: don’t you feel guilty about this, not for one minute. And don’t let Marc feel anything of the sort himself, you hear me? He’s alive, and he needs to go on living and loving you, and you need to do the same. So don’t sit here feeling like you did something wrong just because my husband died and yours didn’t. You promise me you’ll tell whatever you’re feeling right now, no matter how it tries to argue back, that it doesn’t deserve the time of day.”
Her conscious emotions still partly held to slumber and were all the more potent for it. Dawn struggled to hold back her own tears but did her best to nod, hoping that she’d have it in her to heed her friend’s words when she had fully come into the waking world. “I’ll try,” she finally managed to choke out.
“It’s a start.”
One last embrace between friends, tight and marred by grievous tears, and at last Candace bade her goodbyes, walking away from her still fighting friend and on to the weighty casket where her heart had fallen.
When Dawn felt she had enough self-control to face the impersonal parts of the world, she walked out of her secluded rest area and on to the next waiting room, finding the same chaplain from last night awaiting her. “Mrs. Reyes? You look like you’ve been able to get some rest in you after all.”
“I could have kept going, truthfully,” she answered, pausing as she glanced towards the concealed room. “Have they said anything?”
“Nothing yet, ma’am, but they’ve only just begun. It could take some time.” Thompson remained impassive, a steady personality in the midst of the tumult. “You should take a seat. It’ll likely be a while.”
“Oh- oh, right. Thank you.” Now that she was awake, all her mental prowess was focused on anxieties over everything that occurred in that one lonely room, feeling so detached from her as though across a great chasm. She could hardly believe that it had taken so long for her to build up the maelstrom of worry she now held inside her.
“Do you need anything? Water, something to eat?” He was trying to be helpful, she gave him that.
“Nothing right now, no.” She wanted to speak, burst into tears, and scream at the world all at once, a horrific concoction of emotions that was only made worse by pregnancy and making enduring it all in silence agonizing.
“He’s been fighting hard ever since he got here,” Thompson said to her. “You should be proud of him- he knows you’re here waiting on him, and he’s done everything he can to stay.”
“I still want to wring his neck, really,” she admitted, the overly honest statement flying free more by accident than anything else. “I didn’t want him to enlist in the first place. And when they announced that they were going back for a third rotation in June, I asked him to stay on the non-deployment list. So of course he did the exact opposite.”
Thompson settled in a chair across from her, doing his best to listen intently. “There are worse reactions,” he remarked.
“Don’t misunderstand, I’m so proud of him. What he’s gone through, even as a boy, the fact that he genuinely keeps trying to be a good person is- it’s such a battle for him, but he pushes through anyway. I just wish he’d be just a little more selfish!” Dawn felt a tinge of laughter enter her voice as she said the words, promptly feeling horrible for it. “I just- I want him safe. Safe with me, and maybe none of this wouldn’t have happened. But then it would’ve been somebody else here, suffering… maybe even dying. And then, I guess I’m just selfish, myself.”
“It’s not an easy thing to process. People have spent their whole lives working to reach the same thoughts you’re having now,” Thompson said. “Grief isn’t easy to understand or to live with. But you’re at least not letting it sit and fester. Keep it in the light.”
Dawn looked at the man, growing ever more distraught. “Am I a bad person for thinking all of that? That I do wish it was somebody else?”
“He’s your husband,” Thompson replied. “I don’t believe you truly wish it were someone else in that room suffering- I think you’ve got enough of a heart in you to avoid that. But rather, you just merely wish it wasn’t your husband. That any of this didn’t happen at all.”
“A thousand times over,” Dawn assured him. Her mind flickered to images of Marc, surrounded by his old friends, their faces bright and full of that limitless vigor and strength that had been something to admire. Collie, Mac, and now Tom Brody: all dead and gone, far where no human eye nor hand could ever hope to reach them. “Why did any of this ever have to happen in the first place? This whole stupid war having to happen at all, just because the Empire was afraid of a changing world. And now look.” The heavy weight of thought fell on her as the full reality that her old life was forever gone began to truly sink in: there would be no glorious homecoming, no old friends together for one last hurrah, Marc fully returned to her, healthy and whole. It was all gone. “How am I supposed to endure this?”
“You endure it by pushing through each moment. One step at a time, no more than that,” Thompson said.
Dawn felt derision at the remark. “That’s stupid crap for a motivational poster. This is reality. How are we going to get through this?”
Thompson gave a long, wearisome sigh and Dawn’s mind detached itself long enough from her frustration to see that he had dark circles around his eyes, and she wondered when the last time he had slept. Yet still here he sat, calm as a lake in the morning.
“Deep down, Mrs. Reyes- deep in your heart, do you think that the path your husband chose to take was the right one? Think hard,” Thompson said.
She already knew the answer, no matter how loath she was to admit it. “Yes.”
“And now here you both stand. It certainly isn’t easy, and I doubt it will be easy for either of you for a long time. But here you are, right where you’re both meant to be. So let that thought comfort you, even if it may not feel so comforting,” he replied. “Because the fact that you’re here means that you have the strength to take the next step- no matter what comes next.”
Dawn gave a wry smile, barely on the right side of distress. “So that means if my husband dies here, I’ll be able to bring me and my unborn child through what comes after.”
“If it comes to that. But we both believe that it won’t, don’t we?”
“I-” Dawn found herself struggling to answer, a fresh, new tidal wave of overpowering emotion crashing down on her heart in all its fear and anger and grief. “I don’t know right now, I guess.”
Thompson smiled, weak and pale against the onslaught she felt. “Then we’ll sit here until you do.”
Time passed slowly. Dawn felt as though her life was passing by in a horrid dreamscape, a reality outside of reality, too vivid and terrible for the world to conjure. Even if her mind knew that it was only a short time to pass in the great tapestry her life had thus far sewn, but all her senses seemed to focus upon it as though it were the crux where all her life had been driving to. She felt her unborn daughter kick and wondered how it would be to raise such a life without her father alongside for it all. Was she capable? Would she be able to fulfill both roles fairly? What if her child ended up like her, born as one beyond that of mere humanity? How would I be able to teach her to keep it under control? If it’s like Leviathan, or Lord Silver Journey…
She didn’t know when it had happened, but when the sound of a door opening met hear ears, her vision remained dark even after eyes were opened. Buried in the depths of her hands, Dawn couldn’t find the will to meet whomever had entered, Chaplain Thompson taking the weight of that burden for her, a whispered conversation happening just out of earshot. The sound of footsteps walking away and then a pressure on her wrist.
“Mrs. Reyes, I believe you’ll want to hear this.”
A fireflare of hope shot out in her heart and she tore herself from the seeing black she had found solace in-
“Marc’s going to be alright. He’s not awake from surgery yet and he’ll be extremely tired when he does come around, but he will make it.” Thompson’s visage was tired from his long, sleepless efforts, but the smile he held was genuine- and infectious. “Do you understand?”
She understood and found herself swelling with relief and exhaustion from the long, torturous wait. “He’s going to be OK.”
“He’s going to be OK.”
Dawn fell back in her seat, feeling another kick from within her belly and wondering if she, too, could feel the sweet lightness of relief. “That’s good enough for me.”
A night passed before she was allowed access to him again. A part of her chaffed at the Army’s willingness to keep them separated, but the medical professional she had once been knew the wisdom in it: time to observe, keep one last breath held- just in case.
The hospital staff had yet to complain about her endless pacing and lounging around in the waiting rooms. She felt as though all she’d done since she arrived was sleep, be stressed, and sit. A restlessness was gaining strength in her bones and she could only think of one thing that would alleviate it. No, it’s not restlessness, she realized. It’s a hunger.
Morning came. The café on the main floor was open early and more than willing to serve a hot pastry to a young pregnant girl with cravings, and Dawn wondered if she’d spend enough time in this place to know the staff of it by name. She’d certainly come to recognize the medical team well enough.
She had just come out of the elevator and was heading back to the waiting area when she saw one of Major Stennis’ nurses pacing about as though on the hunt: a young, dark-skinned girl by the name of Green.
“Ms. Green,” she called, trying to catch the woman’s attention just in case, “are you looking for-”
“Yes! Mrs. Reyes, come with me. He’s awake now, Major Stennis wanted me to find you,” the woman replied, seemingly as full of excitement as the one she had been sent to find. “He’s feeling fairly good, all things considered, just remember he’s still pretty shook up, so be patient.”
If Dawn had actually heard anything the other woman had said was doubtful, she too eager to find her way down the hall to the room where she desperately wanted to be, crossing over the threshold and entering into a pale-lit room where-
He was upright, his dark-brown eyes alight with that ever-constant alertness she had seen only in him. His chin was scruffy from the time away from a razor, helping to hide the scars and ruggedness of his fights in the wild hellscape. The paleness in his skin still lingered though it was beginning to fade as his health began to return to his fighting form. He was smaller than ever, painfully bruised and beaten, yet all of that was cast aside as his head turned to find her- the light of recognition was lit in his eyes as they settled upon her form, and in that moment Dawn knew she was looking at the most handsome man in the world.
“Dawn!”
“Marc-” if she had meant to say anything else in their moment of greeting it was soon thrown aside, she flinging her arms around her husband in an embrace so tight that is surely hurt. “Oh my God, oh my God…”
“You’re here- like, actually here!” he gasped, whether it be from shock or pain she didn’t know or care. “I didn’t dream seeing you, you’re actually here!”
“Yes, I’m actually here, cause you nearly weren’t!” she peppered him with kisses on every inch of his face, her frantic movements eventually taken under control as weathered hands found her face and brought her lips against his; a slow, peaceful motion as he breathed in her scent and brought her heartbeat alongside his own. It was the feeling of delight, love, and safety she hadn’t felt for a moment since the day he had left, now returned in fuller force than she could have imagined.
“I am right here. I promise,” Marc said, his voice still weak yet the words incredibly firm. “I am alright. You understand me?”
“I do- and don’t you ever scare me like that again, you jerk!” she said, her absolute fit of emotions pushing her to laughter, kissing him again and again. “You gave me a heart attack!”
“I feel like I had a heart attack,” Marc replied, at last showing the smallest hint that she had caused him pain as he pulled her arms from around his chest. “I guess I got more beat up than I even thought.”
“You are quite fortunate to be here, Sergeant Reyes,” said another voice. “With the amount of blood you lost, you’re very lucky that hemorrhagic shock didn’t take your life.”
Dawn went rigid as she realized that Major Stennis had been watching the entire scene unfold, the weary-faced woman sporting a grin that split from ear to ear, seemingly unsurprised by the overly affectionate scene. Dawn felt herself go a deeper shade of red than her even her hair, relinquishing her husband and taking a very fixed, very formal position at his side.
“And you won’t be the last, either,” Stennis remarked, taking it all in stride. “Glad to see you two together- truly. You’ve had a helluva fight, Sergeant.”
“Yeah. Don’t doubt it.” Marc’s hand reach down to the stubs that finished just beyond the knee where the legs had once found their place, a strange expression settling on his face as he felt the absence. “How bad was it?”
“You had an infection. Yesterday, you underwent further amputation to prevent the spread. I guess you must not remember us taking your vitals last night, then?”
“I guess not,” he remarked, appearing to try and mull over a veritable whirlwind of memories and experiences, made all the worse by a vicious fever. “Last thing I remember is a mortar whistle…”
“When you sustained your injuries.”
“Yeah- hey, wait a second!” Marc cried, a sudden vigor igniting in him. “The rest of the guys, where are they? Captain Brody, Tanner- the other guys, are they still in ICU or did they get the boot home?”
Major Stennis bit her lip. The temperature of the room plummeted and Dawn felt her heart sink. She had only known of Captain Brody because of Candace- there’d been others in that firefight who hadn’t made it out.
Marc read the silence perfectly, a palpable horror falling upon his face. “Captain Brody…”
Major Stennis looked as though she had been made to drink poison. “Captain Brody died enroute to this facility, Sergeant,” she said. “Too much blood loss- I’m sorry.”
Marc looked as though he didn’t want to let the news sink in. “Then, then- Joel.”
“Died on the mountain.”
More horror. “Lieutenant Walton-”
“Only what was left of him.”
Dawn felt sick as she watched her husband’s growing anguish. “Tanner, at least!”
“Tanner is alive. His wounds were less severe, and he was shipped back to the States this morning. He’ll be medically discharged more likely than not, but he’ll be alright.”
Whatever trail of memories her husband was going down, it was one she didn’t dare imagine. Marc sank back slowly against his bed, as though crushed by the weight of the news he had been struck by. “They’re gone, then,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry, Sergeant. The medics tried everything they could for Cpt. Brody.” Stennis’ own look of mourning seemed as genuine as his.
“Yeah. I know.” His eyes were clouded, awash in places where no sane man dared to tread. “You need anything more from me right now?”
Stennis understood his words clearly. “I’ll let you have some time to process it. Take some time to rest, Sergeant. You’ll be alright here.”
She departed and left the stunned couple alone, Dawn at a loss for words. What could she hope to say? She had thought it had only been just one, not several. And what else had transpired that she’d been unaware of? It wasn’t as though she had to be told anything. Where his mind walked now were places she couldn’t even imagine, sights the likes of which she hoped she would never have to see herself- all of which only made her heart break for his.
Marc looked over at his wife as she pulled a chair next to his bedside, unwilling to relinquish his hand from her grasp, the other gently brushing his hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, leaning in close to him in the hopes of giving what comfort she could. “I’m so sorry.”
“They’re gone, Dawn,” Marc said, in a voice so hollow and devoid of life that it was as though wind through a graveyard. “They’re really gone.” It was a depth of loss too great for one to weep, for shock and strength of the soldier that still remained would not allow it. So there, hands intertwined, they both mourned for the lives and futures of dear friends, as well as that of their own, that had been lost in the maelstrom of gunfire and screaming sound.
Cooper, Duncan C. 