Page 21 of Blue Arrow Island
“Get his clothes off,” someone says.
“Here, let’s get him into this bed.” That’s Pax.
I open my eyes, grimacing as I try to get into a sitting position. I hurt everywhere and don’t have any strength.
So that’s not happening without help. I turn my head to the side. Several people are crowded around a nearby bed with the injured man on it.
“Start compressions,” someone commands.
“How long has he been down?” Pax asks.
“I don’t know. I mean, the jag took him down...maybe forty minutes ago. It took us almost ten minutes to get him away from it.”
“Ten minutes?” Pax practically roars.
A few seconds of grim silence pass.
“We were afraid of hurting him. I take full responsibility.”
“Goddamn right you do. You do compressions on him yourself, Maxwell.”
“Yes, sir.”
“His legs are turning blue,” a woman says flatly. “It’s too late.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” Pax snaps. “You do compressions for the next twenty minutes, Maxwell.”
I’ve never seen Pax like this. The normally easygoing commander paces away from the bed and back again, hands on his hips.
“How the fuck did this happen? A hunting party of six fours should be bringing back a dead jaguar, not a dead team member.”
“It wasn’t an average jaguar, sir.” The man says the words so softly I hardly hear them. “It was on us before we even heard it.”
Pax scoffs. “You’re not average soldiers. And you let a goddamn cat spend ten minutes tearing Carpenter’s guts out.”
I can only see Pax’s back and the profile of a woman who hangs her head, wiping tears from her cheek.
“Get the fuck out of my sight.” Pax’s voice is low and menacing. “I’ll discuss this with Commander Marsden and send for you. Wait in your rooms.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Before Pax can turn back to me, I move my head and close my eyes. I don’t want him to know I overheard that.
My heart pounds so hard I swear it must be visible through my chest as I pretend to sleep.
“Bree, send for Luke and Colvin,” Pax says. “Tell them to relieve me here so I can go to a meeting.”
“Yes, Commander.”
I relax and try to slide back to sleep, listening to Maxwell counting softly as he does compressions on a dead man.
The next time I wake up, bright sunlight is streaming in through the open windows of the infirmary. A bald Black man is sitting where Pax was, his gaze shifting from the window to me as I start to sit up.
It’s not easy, but I manage. The pain is only a fraction of what it was before. My ribs are a little sore, but not broken. I was sure I had at least one broken rib.
“How long have I been in here?” I croak, reaching for the canteen on the table beside the bed.
