Velle is straight up roaring like a wild animal from somewhere just outside the door, unloading his fury in the form of dozens, maybe hundreds of rounds from his automatic rifle. The gunfire fades into the background while I work, just trying to tune it all out and focus.
I set up an IV for Benson, then make quick work of doing the same for the other guy, who Byron tells me is named Justin Humphrey.
“How can I help?” The new kid, Angel, asks. All round green eyes and fearful conviction.
I’m about to ask him to help get the shrapnel out of Humphrey, but Velle storms inside and barks, “No. Fuck that. You’re not helping with dick. Sit over there and don’t fucking move.”
We all take a moment to share nervous looks. Angel swallows visibly, shifting on his feet.
“Velle, come on…” Byron murmurs.
“Yea, he’s not the enemy,” Trevel adds.
“Right. He’s just involved with the enemy,” Velle snarls, getting in Angel’s face.
As much intimidating size and ferocious energy as Velle has on the kid, Angel doesn’t back down. He just stands still, an inch from Velle’s gnashing teeth, and cocks his head.
“What do you want, John?” Angel asks calmly.
“I want him dead,” Velle hisses, studded eyebrow arching in suspicion. “Is that what you want,pajarito?”
Some mild uncertainty flashes in Angel’s eyes. But he pushes past it, squares his shoulders, and nods. “Yes. It is.”
Velle’s gaze narrows as he looks over the kid’s face. But he eventually offers him a simple nod before retreating, back to the bloodshed.
Angel frees a visible breath, turning to me.
I hand him some forceps. “You got steady hands?”
I’m doing my best here, instructing my assistants on how to help as best we can. But when two more soldiers are dragged in, the sweat breaking out on my forehead tells me I’m a bit overwhelmed.
I don’t want to let them know I’m doubting myself, but this, most certainly,ain’twhat I signed up for when I took this mysterious job on this mysterious island, from the mysterious evil man who still hasn’t even shown hisfacein this war.
Felix is pacing like he’s going out of his mind as Joy rushes over, grabbing him by the arm.
“You think you can take out their flank?” She asks on a pleading breath.
His eyes flit to mine briefly before asking her, “How many?”
“Six or seven.”
He looks to me again, and I’mglaring.
“Felix… No.”
“It’s a cakewalk,” he argues.
“Look at this!” I gesture to the wounded lives I’m attempting to save. “Doesthislook like a cakewalk to you??”
“They’re not me, Lem,” he keeps going. “Do you know how many of them I’ve killed since this started? Twenty-six. Twenty-fucking-six! That’s only ten less than my victims on the outside! All by myself. No guns, no bombs. Justme.”
“Honestly, slay,” Ren chirps from nearby, and I shoot him a look. “Sorry…”
Byron steps forward. “I’ll cover you.” The group of us gawk at him. “On the bike.”
Velle perks up at that. But he doesn’t actively shut it down.
“Hang on…” Trevel interjects.
