I groan, lifting my head enough to look around. Everything is hazy, but someone is moving toward me, hobbling with difficulty.
“Em—” My throat gurgles and more blood spills into my mouth. “Em.” It’s the only word I can form. The only word I ever want to say.
The figure draws closer before another crashes into them. They both fall to the ground, wrestling until a knife is pulled and descends into a lung. I can hear the wheezing and the sharp cry of a man.
I struggle to rise once more, but my muscles refuse to budge.
My breathing intensifies.What about the headset?I manage to lift my hand to my head only to realize that my helmet was blown off in the missile strike.
Fuck, I need to find it.
My limbs slowly regain their mobility as I brace myself up with my arms. Every part of my body has this buzzing sensation. It must be pain that my drugs are blocking out. Who knows how long I have until I’m dead.
I blink harder and lift my chin as the remaining figure rises from the man they’ve just slain. My vision clears enough for me to make out her lovely hair, smeared and tattered with blood and mud.
Her eyes are wide and hollow.
Everything inside my chest seizes.Is she…out of control right now?I find myself thinking as she limps toward me, a bloody knife dripping from her hand.
The thought quickly fades and only relief that she’s not dead remains.
“Em,” I whisper, voice raspy and dry. I hold in the cough that threatens to tear through me. She lowers to my level, sitting squarely on my waist and bringing the sharp end of her blade to my throat.
A wide grin spreads over my beaten lips. I wonder if she can see it through my torn mask.
Her face is expressionless, only the drive to kill is reflected through her eyes.
“You’d be doing me a favor, love,” I say gently as I brush my thumb over her chapped lips. The energy flees my flesh and my arm drops back down to my side.
Darkness clouds my sight once more.
Please kill me, Emery.
17
EMERY
Bright bloodagainst his dirt-stained skin. It’s the sort of red that truly makes you see how fickle life can be. How easy it is to take away.
My hand loosens and the blade slips out of my hold. I take a few harrowing breaths as I take in where I am and what I’m doing. What I wasaboutto do.
Mori’s head is tilted to the side, unconscious. My eyes skirt over his body, narrowing at every tear in his tactical gear and gash that allows the blood to drain from his injured flesh. A long cut extends from his lower jaw up to his cheekbone.
Is that how his helmet came off? I swallow down the emotions that swarm inside my chest. I brush my tattered glove across his face and gently pull down his mask. His lips are bloodied and his breaths are so weak it’s almost like he’s already dead.
He’s at death’s door, barely holding on to a world so cruel.
Tears spill down my cheeks relentlessly as I gather myself.Focus on the mission. Focus.I smack the side of my head.
“Lieutenant, come in,” I say quietly just in case surviving hostiles are still in the area. It’s ominously silent, though. Only the crackling of burned brush and a few trees. “Volt, come in… Power, are you there?”
Nothing. My radio might’ve been damaged in the air strike.
Dread sinks lower into my stomach as I let my eyes move back to Mori.I have to get us out of here, and fast.
I drag his body to a thick prickly bush and hide him beneath the brambles. “I’ll be right back. Please don’t die,” I murmur as I keep my palm pressed to the side of his face. His lashes flutter as if in response. I lean down and press a kiss to his lips before I stand up and take in the field we barely escaped from.
The smoke and dust have cleared for the most part. Revealing a gut-wrenching scene of what remains of the enemy forces. Even small missions like this can end up being horrendous. I try to carefully step around blown-off limbs and heads as I make my way back to the hideout.
