Page 14 of Jager's Prey
“You.”
“You’re thinking about me?” She tilted her head, licked her lips then closed her eyes again. “What about me?”
“I don’t know anything about you.”
“Knowing about me isn’t important, is it?” She asked. “We won’t be around each other long enough for any of it to matter.”
“Is that how you really think?”
She spared me another look then closed her eyes more. “Go to sleep, Mack. We don’t know what tomorrow will bring and we both will need all the rest we can get.”
“Right.” I muttered.
Once she was sleeping again, I sat up and rolled up my pant leg and inspected my prosthetic. The stump was sore but there wasn’t really anything I could do. This piece wasn’t built for climbing hills and dodging bullets.
I had a piece specifically built for running and other strenuous workouts, but I didn’t think to bring it—besides, if I messed about and damaged it, the cost was enough to make me contemplate ending it all.
I unclipped the pins at the side and the front then pulled what was left of my leg from the prosthetic. I removed the sock then reached for my bag for the cream I used on the stump.
“Are you okay?” Jager asked.
“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
But she didn’t.
Instead, she sat up and scooted closer. For the first time since I finished therapy, I was ashamed of what was left of me. Having her seeing me like this was a bit of a gut-punch.
“Here.” She knelt beside me. “Let me help.”
“I got this.” I told her a little more harshly than I intended.
Jager exhaled, pushed to her feet and headed for the door.
“Jager…”
“Don’t worry about it.” She paused. “I’m givin’ you some space. I’ll be back—I have to find the lil girl’s room anyway.”
I knew I shouldn’t feel less of a man because of my leg—but I did. For so long I worked on being comfortable with it. But I found myself trying to hide this impossible thing all the time. I wore pants in the summer—never shorts. I stayed away from dating, from any situation that would have anyone ask questions.
I gave of my body in service to my country and now I was merely broken.
Offering her a small smile, I exhaled as she left me alone with Cage. Frustrated, I set my prosthetic on my bag, folded the sock and set it next to it then shifted to my side.
I remained like that, telling myself I was staying awake to wait for her to come back. But even after she returned and settled down again, sleep didn’t come.
Maybe it was the fact that I had no idea what time it was. I couldn’t see the sky to gauge much of anything and it bothered me.
When Miriam came to wake us, I was already up, freshened up as much as I could in a bathroom, then replaced my leg. When I returned from the bathroom, Jager had been up and was helping Cage read a map of the area.
I left to walk around with Miriam. In her broken English, she explained to me what the place was and who the people were. She introduced me to a few of them, but they spoke very little English.
Someone found us a little while later and whispered to Miriam. She caught my hand and tugged me after her back to the room where Cage was. Miriam spoke hurriedly to Jager.
“What’s wrong?”
“We have incoming.” Jager drew to her feet. “Cage, do you have your passport?”
He nodded then reached into his back pocket to wave it at her.
