Page 10 of In the Light of Day

I don't know if I can survive if it happens a second time.

Can someone survive it even once?

Have I survived?

My steps race toward the man, his figure blinded by the light surrounding him as I scream, “HELP ... help me,” over and over until my voice is hoarse. My energy is fading and my feet start to drag as every footstep is another one closer to the light. The rough tarmac shredding my already skinned toes. His heavy tread pounds against the harsh surface of the road as I start to fall, losing the battle with my body in needing to find help. Needing to save myself. And just as I think I'm about to feel the grating force of the road, feel my skin tear from my body. I find myself falling toward a force far greater than I could ever have imagined. I'm surrounded in strength, in warmth, and I feel an overwhelming sense of security as the gravelly voice of the man holding me whispers in my ear, “You're safe, darlin'. I have you.”

Chapter 6 - Ace

Seven hours into my military leave is all it took for trouble to find me. I’m meant to be on vacation.Emergency vacation. The stress of my last tour overseas got the best of me and my ranking officer thought it would be better if I stepped away for a few months to collect myself.

It happens to almost everyone that serves. When everything becomes too much. Mine just happened to occur a few weeks ago on a routine patrol at a village we were passing through. I had just finished helping some of the local women bleed a sheep, tying it up because they were struggling under its weight. I went to the nearby river to wash my hands of the blood like I had done a few times since we arrived. It took me a moment to process what I was seeing when I came down the narrow path. Two sets of legs stuck out from the tall grass. One pair significantly longer than the other. A small doll lay tossed to the side of where they lay, the lifeless eyes of a small girl looking at it as a trail of blood ran from her body toward the bustling river. A real life monster lay atop the girl whose final breaths were taken by the act of a selfish man. The only comfort she could seek to find was that of her doll lying just out of her reach.

The man continued to assault her lifeless body, oblivious to my presence and within seconds I became lost to a psychosis. At least that's what the shrink told me. I don't know what about this scene was different for me because the trials of war was something I was familiar with. People did horrible things when they were desperate but then again maybe I just answered my own question. I did not understand, with all the hardship that was felt in that village, a man, who I believe was a well known, charismatic part of the community felt the need to commit such devastating hate.

I came out of it about an hour after I dug a grave and buried her. Apparently, I dragged the man's body through the village for everyone to see before I strung him up alongside the sheep. The women of the village could be heard for miles, their mourning cries causing a hushed silence to the bustle of the surrounding area. Three of my fellow soldiers tried to intervene but after two broken bones and leaving one concussed, it was decided to let me ride out whatever was happening. Witnessing what happened ... it caused a switch in my brain to change, and every time I close my eyes, I see the lifeless eyes of the girl looking at her doll for comfort.

I was too late to save her.

My plan was to drive until I couldn't and see where I ended up. I have no family. My friends are all still operational. And then there's me. Out on leave from the military,lost, and trying to figure out how I become normal again so I can return to the only life I've ever known.

I thought it was a deer that leapt from the trees when I tugged on the steering wheel, swerving to avoid it. My truck turning a full one-eighty until my headlights revealed a girl,a woman, covered in blood about one hundred metres away from me.

My truck is specially equipped, so without hesitation, I turned on the eleven floodlights I have, and created an island of light around me, scanning the area for any threats but never taking an eye off the woman on the road.

Her movements are jagged as she runs toward me, her body not cooperating as her almost white blond hair, stained bright red from blood, whistles behind her.

I take my Beretta from the glovebox, and my tactical knife from the visor, certain I have my balisong, combat knife and switchblade on my person.

I feel uneasy if I have less than three weapons on me at any given time, and driving for long distances with a handgun strapped to you is uncomfortable, so knives are my preferred option.

Exiting my truck, the cool night air is broken by her hoarse screams for help. Who knows how long she has been out here calling for someone to find her as the haunted stare of the girl I couldn't save flickers across my eyes, followed closely by the sinister grin of my foster parent.

Evil exists in all corners of the world but the hairs on the back of my neck have only stood on end once before now. The man who was part of my childhood was pure evil, plucked by the devil himself to wreak mayhem on the living. The same feeling washes over me now. Something is very wrong with this situation. And so I run as if my life depends on it. Run toward the woman covered in blood begging for help.

My footsteps crash against the road needing to get to her, to save her. I see her legs begin to fail and she starts to lose her balance, a pained look crossing her face as her arms reach out toward me. One last attempt to be saved as I stretch out, pulling her into my arms as she slams against my chest.

My tactical knife drops to the ground, ringing out as it hits the tarmac. I hold my Beretta firmly in place as I continue to scan around us, my arm outstretched, my aim exact, ready to end any threat this woman was running from.

But no one comes.

The night is still.

The ragged breathing from the woman in my arms is the only other thing that can be heard over the hum of the forest. Looking down, her eyes flicker and I try to reassure her, softly tell her that I have her now, that she doesn't need to worry because I’m here.

I will save her.

Her fight with consciousness fails and she becomes limp in my arms. Her small body covered in cuts and open wounds. A history of violence told like a story across her skin.

What the fuck happened to her.

I walk toward my truck, holding her tightly in my arms, recalling my phone in the centre console but not sure if I can get service out in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure if there’s even a town nearby because I wasn't meant to stop for the night until I reached Hallowed Springs.

The woman's clothes are worn, riddled with holes as if she’s been wearing them for a long time. I’ve seen poverty,lived poverty, but this is different. Her clothing is falling apart but she smells clean. She's covered in blood, cuts, bruises and scars but the unblemished skin is clear and not covered in dirt like you would expect. It's like she's been taken care of, but also obviously not because she's running away from something,or someone. Her eyelids flutter and her body tenses before falling limp again. A war raging somewhere inside her, fighting to come back to the light.

Ensuring there are no threats, I gently ease her into the driver's seat of my truck. Shifting it back so she’s more comfortable. Reaching across, I quickly take out my cell phone and call the emergency line, hoping it connects with the two bars of signal I have. She looks so small sitting in the driver's seat, alone in her struggles and I can't help but reach out to take a hold of her hand. A little bit of comfort I can offer so she knows there is someone here with her.

The forest looms all around us, pine trees slowly moving in the breeze keeping my senses alert trying to hear any unnatural sounds in the shadows. Eventually, my call connects and after several beeps and weird tones, the voice of an older man answers the phone.

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