Page 32 of Only for Love

“Roger that, Ford?”

“No. Repeat.”

“We’re coming in hot, dropping a line. You grab it and tie on. You’ve got one shot out of hell. You got that, son?”

They’re still coming. “Got it.”

“Ten seconds.”

I fumble for the extraction spot, see the clearing, and run all out.

“Three, two…”

“Here!” The quiet thumps of the stealth chopper arrive.

A line with a hook drops mere yards away. I run after it, pushing my body to reach the only way out of this hellhole. My muscles scream. My head spins. I can’t breathe, but I grab the rope. Most of my equipment is gone. I have nothing to secure myself to it. No harness. No carabiners. Shit. Okay. I thread the line through my nylon belt, clip it to itself, then wrap both fists around it. One tug and my body jars in pain as the belt rips into my back, and my feet leave the ground. I hang on, gritting my teeth as the chopper pulls out but stays low.

The wind is harsh. The faster we move, the harder I grip, trying to absorb some of the impact of the line and the burn of my belt tearing into my back. The chopper pulls right. Then left. We’re evading attack. They’re protecting me from sniper fire while I’m hanging like some American bull’s eye.

I don’t know the plan. I can’t hear my earpiece any more. Will they pull me up? Will we land and load me in? Whatever they’re doing, there’s a firefight behind us, and we need to clear the attack zone.

Deep, brilliant, violent pain rips in my side. My nerves scream.Iscream. Pain I wasn’t expecting overpowers me. Shocks me. I can’t hang on. Can’t hold myself up. I’m losing my grip. My belt’s the only thing that catches me.

Fire burns in my side. I’m shot with no idea how much I’m bleeding. My body dangles and spins out of control on the line. I’m dizzy and dim. Blood is on my tongue, and my life is on my mind. I’ve done two things wrong in my life: killed my mother and left the girl I loved.

Brutal regret ricochets through my body. The memories I use to fight my hell won’t come. Emma’s face is dark, blank. I can’t remember her kiss, her taste—God, I’m dying. I can’t even hear her voice. I’ve got nothing, no memory of the only girl who made me run, the only one who could save me.

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