“Two.”
“One.”
“Go,” JD said just as another round of gunfire echoed around them. Aberlour immediately threw himself to his right, ducking and rolling. While the enemy sniper was distracted, he ran to the doorway, prepared to fire, and peered into the hallway. All clear. Aberlour crossed the hallway in two strides, grabbed the handrail and swung over it. He braced himself for a hard landing on the stairwell, tucking and rolling to absorb the shock. There was no one there other than a few dead bodies.
“I’m out,” Aberlour said, sprinting to the exit while evading enemy fire.
“We’re at point B.”
He ran like a mad man, while scanning the area for any remaining enemies.
“Does anyone have the target?” Aberlour shouted over the comms hoping to be heard over the latest round of shooting. Suddenly, there was an explosion followed by burst of flame he felt through his BDUs, its percussion launching him into the nearby forest. He was fucking lucky that he didn’t hit a tree or get tossed over the cliff behind the house.
He laid on his back for a minute, dazed and confused, his ears ringing from the explosion. Then everything seemed to stand still as he laid there gasping, staring up at the starlit sky, too stunned to move. Something wet hit his face repeatedly. A minute later he realized it was raining. He tried to flex his muscles and move his arms and legs, fearing he’d lost a body part along the way. After doing a full assessment, all body parts accounted for, his breathing evened out and the ringing in his ears faded. Now, he could hear the screams. Screams of pain and fright as the world burned. Although slightly muffled bythe sound of rain hitting the tree leaves and the forest floor, Aberlour still managed to hear them.
“Abe!” Somebody yelled into the comms. They screamed at him to wake up, sit up, get to his feet, but he couldn’t think straight or recall which direction he’d been running in before the blast.
“Aberlour! Do you copy?”
Aberlour, right. His name. Yes, he knew his name. Aberlour sat up slowly, taking in the world around him. At least he’d made it into the cover of the woods. No one else was around.
“I’m here,” he whispered, still out of breath. He struggled to get to his feet, but had to stop for a minute to kneel, trying not to pass out.
“Medevac is on the way,” JD called over the comms. “Meet us at the rendezvous point, now!” he ordered urgently.
“Roger,” Aberlour acknowledged, finally standing up and finding his bearings. He looked in every direction, searching for, and eventually spotting, the right landmark. He took off running.
Aberlour could hear the sound of a chopper in the distance as he approached the landing zone to see his team waiting for him. Five of the men were standing, and one was laid out on a makeshift stretcher.
“How is he?” he asked, gasping for breath and falling to his knees next to Oliver.
“Chopper is one minute out,” Marcus said, ignoring Aberlour’s question. He had a hand pressed to Oliver’s chest, and even under the dim light of the moon, Abe could tell his hand was covered in blood.
“Oli?” Aberlour asked.
Oliver was white as a sheet and could barely hold his eyes open.
“Darling, you hear me?”
Oliver blinked slowly and looked up at Aberlour kneeling next to him. He opened his mouth to reply, but instead he coughed. A broken kind of sound, like a gurgle and a cough combined. Blood ran from his mouth and his eyes shot wide open in complete panic.
“Marcus!” Abe yelled to catch his medic’s attention, as Marcus was focused intently on searching his pack for more bandages to cover the bullet wound.
“Internal bleeding,” Marcus said, followed by vicious cursing. “Keep him awake,” he ordered Aberlour, as he continued to pack the wound.
“You hear that, Oli? You have to stay awake! Stay with me!” Aberlour pleaded urgently, gripping Oli’s shoulders to get him to look at him again.
“Cold,” he responded faintly, his eyes filled with confusion and pain. “Cold, Abe. Wh—” but he coughed up blood again as he struggled to breathe.
“Oli, hold on! For fuck’s sake, where’s the damned chopper?” Aberlour yelled.
JD ran to the landing zone they’d reconned a few hours before to guide the incoming chopper.
“Carlos, help us move him,” Marcus ordered, positioning Oliver for transport while maintaining pressure on the bandages.
Aberlour supported his upper torso.
“Go!” Marcus said as they all lifted Oli at the same time.
