Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
If we were going to spend the night in the jungle, we were going to need it. All we really had was what I wore on my survival vest which wasn’t much.
Doc grabbed what he could and slung the pack on his back. “Let’s get out of here.”
He came over and helped me up, sliding a strong arm around me under my shoulder. I tried not to lean on him too much, but with a bad hip and a worse calf, there was no way for me to cover any distance without help.
We moved in the direction dispatch had instructed, taking it slowly both because of my injuries and also because of our unwillingness to bungle into another bad situation. After a while, I began to feel faint. Maybe my adrenaline was crashing.
When spots began flickering in my vision and my body felt like it was moving through molasses, I considered warning him in case I fainted. But before I could get the words out, I went down, nearly landing on my face before Doc caught me and lowered me onto my back in the slick mud.
“Major!” Doc called from a distance. “Where… dammit, man, you’re bleeding again!”
I tried to open my eyes, but all I could see was the South China Sea. I was drowning in it, but I couldn’t think of a better way to go.
Chapter 5
Liam “Doc” Wilde
I helped him land on his back and quickly checked his breathing before moving to his wounds. What was the problem? He’d told me he was fine.
Both the shrapnel wound on the major’s hip and the bullet wound on his leg had opened up and been bleeding for what looked like a while. I cursed him for not telling me even though he was in no state to respond.
I pulled off the pack and dug out the supplies I’d taken from the slain soldier’s packs. This time, instead of slapping bandages on the injuries, I dosed him with a morphine syrette before cleaning and stitching the wounds properly. After a while, I tried to wake him up enough to drink a bit of water and eat some C-ration peanut butter, hoping the sugar and protein would help him perk up.
“Wake up, Major,” I snapped. “We don’t have time for you to catnap.”
He looked at me with a wrinkled brow of confusion, no doubt due to the blood loss, dehydration, and low blood sugar. No wonder he’d looked so pale. I’d mistakenly thought it was fear, which hadn’t made any sense. Major Marian was one of the bravest SOBs of all the air ambulance pilots. This was his fourth tour of combat duty in Nam, and he was unflappable.
But I hadn’t been able to save one of his best friends. Moline had bled out right in front of the major. Of course he was going to be upset and shaken.
And if I let myself think about Fred Rusnak and the young wife who’d just unknowingly become a widow, I would lose it. Instead, I concentrated on treating the major.
“Hells bells, Major,” I whispered, brushing the sweaty hair back from his forehead to draw an M there, indicating the dose of morphine I’d given him. In case something happened to me, any rescuing medic would know not to overdose him. I continued murmuring at him. “It’s just you and me out here. I’d really like it if you could perk back up and boss me around a little. Tell me what the hell to do here before I get us killed.”
He mumbled something that sounded like “Liam,” but I chalked it up to confusion. I reached into his vest to pull out the radio to call in a sitrep again and inform them we were making slow progress but we were still okay. I shoved down the panic that encroached, silently thanking the major for lasting long enough to give me someone else to live for. I needed to get him safely back to base before I could lose my mind with fear and self-recrimination for my inability to save anyone that day.
He was counting on me. He needed me. I wasn’t going to be the reason this three-time combat veteran of this damned war didn’t make it home.
“Liam. Are you safe?”
He was mumbling, and it made him sound too vulnerable. I tried to block it out, tried not to hear it.
“Wake the fuck up, Major,” I hissed in his ear after his eyes slid closed. “I need you to stay with me because I don’t know what I’m doing and…” My voice broke. “I’m scared.”
“Doc,” he said again. “Doc, ’s okay.”
I stared at him and wiped smudges of dirt and blood off his craggy, scruffy face. His eyes opened long enough to show me the faded denim blue of his irises. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to feel less alone.