Page 61 of Unrest
Frayed nerves had me on edge. The convoy could only be out during sun hours because they’d be spotted too easily at night if they had to use lights. So I paced the med room all day. Now and then I stopped and tried to study. I’d taken to reading some of the dentist’s medical books to teach myself things I didn’t know. My training was mostly in basic emergency treatment, stabilizing people until they could get to a specialist. I usually poured over the books in my free time, but today I couldn’t concentrate.
I kept looking at the clock. The convoy was due back by seventeen hundred. It was fifteen hundred now. Two more hours. A light knock on the door had me jumping as I turned.
“Just me,” said Remy. “Want some company?”
“Yes.” I sighed. She was just what I needed. “How’s it going in the greenhouse?”
“Good. The romaine lettuce is sprouting and the next cherry tomato plant is about to ripen. We have salads in our future! Plus a ton of zucchini buds. I’m already getting together recipes. Zucchini muffins will be awesome for breakfast.”
I had to smile at her veggie enthusiasm. I wanted to tell her about my failed attempt to get Rylen to agree to alone time, but saying it out loud would leave a bitter taste in my mouth.
“So,” she said. “I know the grief meetings aren’t really your thing, but I’ve talked to Tater and he’s agreed to join me.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I had to ask him, like, ten times. He probably agreed just to shut me up, but I think he needs it as much as me.”
I nodded, feeling my chest tighten. She was right. Tater was struggling hard. He’d always worn his emotions on his sleeve and had a difficult time controlling his anger. Between watching our grandparents and parents killed, then killing a man himself, he was not himself anymore. Rylen said he had to drag him to the gym on most days.
“So, you guys are talking? Are the two of you . . . ?”
“No.” She hopped up on the patient bed, rustling the paper. “I still like him and care about him, but we just can’t. It’s weird. Sometimes he’s waiting for me when I get off shift, and we walk to our rooms together in silence. We hang out, but we don’t talk. I think just being with someone you knew before helps. It’s comforting. A lot of the people here don’t have that.”
My hands suddenly became very interesting. We were so lucky to still have each other, and I did feel guilty about all the lonely soldiers here while I was busy keeping to myself. I wasn’t good at . . . people. Thank God for the Remys of the world—people who would stop and hug someone they saw crying—people who went to grief groups and actually supported others.
“Thank you for being there for him,” I said.
Before she could answer, we were jarred by a buzz that I knew to be the “doorbell,” and then we were on our feet at the sound of shouts coming down the entrance tunnel of the compound. My stomach swooped.
“Medic! Man down!”
My heart and innards twisted and dropped as I nearly tripped over my feet running into the hall. I pushed my personal fears aside and sudden clarity overcame me, like old days. I saw the scene clearly. A man, his boots dangling down as four others carried him. My eyes scanned the faces and saw Rylen as one of the carriers, his hands under the man’s arms from behind—relief physically crashed over me and I grabbed the wall. Further scanning told me the patient was bearded.
Shit. Texas Harry. The clothing over his entire arm and torso were covered in blood.
“Oh, my gosh!” Remy said.
“Go get the dentist,” I told her. “Captain Ward.” I would need help.
I rushed forward to run along beside them. I didn’t even have to ask for information.
“Shot in the shoulder,” Linette said. “Fucking civvy bandits.”
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Rylen said. “We kept pressure on it this whole past hour, but he lost consciousness.” I could see they’d tried to wind a bandage around the wound, but it was in an awkward area. I had to get it cleaned ASAP.
I sprinted back to the med room ahead of them and began grabbing the things I’d need: scissors, alcohol, sterilized bandages, IV needle and fluid bag.
They brought him in and hoisted his heavy body onto the table with grunts. His cheeks, normally tinted pink, were colorless like plastic. I got to work cutting off his clothing while I shouted orders.
“Ry, find his file and see what his blood type is.” I pointed the scissors to the filing cabinet. “Linette, can you cut the rest of his shirt off while I get his IV ready?” She didn’t immediately come forward and I looked to see her grimacing at his bloody form like she was about to puke. Great. “Never mind. Go sit in the hall,” I told her. She rushed out. I didn’t have time to marvel in the fact that Linette had a weakness.
“He’s A positive,” Rylen said.
Thankfully the dentist ran in at that moment and I thrust the scissors at him. He began to cut away the material while I got the IV line ready.
“Rem, see if anyone in the kitchen or common area is A positive. We need blood donors.” She ran from the room.
After the shirt was cut, Rylen helped me yank the entire thing off his torso. His shoulder was a gory mess. I swabbed the crook of his good arm with alcohol and got the IV in him, fluids and antibiotics running. I gave his pulse a quick check. It was slow. Way too slow. I tried to keep my emotions at bay, but Tex’s joking smile filled my mind and I nearly choked on a wail. I pushed it back down.
