Chapter 5
CHAPTER
FIVE
JESSICA
Rachel and I get the soldier loaded onto the plane and ready for the flight to Landstuhl. He will have a long road to recovery after his surgery, but I think we were able to save his legs.
Once back in the medical tent, I take a deep breath as I begin to clean up all the equipment, the adrenaline finally draining from my system. My hands tremble slightly, not from fear, but from the weight of everything that just happened.
I didn’t hear Rachel come in, so I don’t notice she is quietly watching me until she speaks. “You did amazing out there.”
I shake my head. “I was almost too late.”
“But you weren’t. You got there in time and you saved him.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I mutter.
“You can’t think like that. That soldier is alive and will get to keep his legs, thanks to you.”
A part of me knows she’s right, but I can’t get out of my head the thoughts that we could have been too late. As I scrub the blood from the tray I can’t let go of the memory of his pale face, the crushed legs, and the way he looked at me like I was his last hope.
I glance at the corner of the tent where my brother’s photo still sits tucked inside my notebook. I carry it everywhere. Not for comfort, for penance.
Rachel steps closer. “Are you going to be okay?”
I nod, but it’s a lie. Luckily she doesn’t press, even though she knows I’m lying.
After we get everything cleaned up, put away, and notes written, I step outside the tent for some air.
I know I should go take a shower, change, and get something to eat, but I also need to go check on the injured soldiers, make sure they are resting comfortably.
Being a medic is a never-ending job. There is always something that needs to be done or someone that needs you.
I spot Noah walking out of the Command tent, his limp more pronounced than before. He doesn’t see me, so I continue watching him.
His shoulders seem tense and I find myself wondering what was said in the debrief. Did he tell them I was reckless and ran straight into danger to the soldiers? Not that I care, because I would do it again if it means saving someone’s life.
That’s my job, that’s what I signed up to do. I made a vow, no soldier would die while I’m here and no family would ever get that visit and I plan to keep that vow.
I watch as he disappears into his tent, hoping he’ll finally get off that ankle and get some rest. I shake my head at those thoughts. I shouldn’t care, but something in me aches, knowing he’s in pain.
I turn toward the medical tent, but my steps are slower now, not because I’m tired, though I am exhausted, but because something inside me has shifted.
What is it about Captain Noah Reyes that calls to me?
If he doesn’t care about his well-being, why should I care?
My thoughts continue until I see the soldiers lying on the cots.
I check each chart and each soldier, before calling it a night and heading to my tent for clean clothes and my toiletries, then I make my way to the shower tent.
I step into the shower tent, the water pressure is weak, but it’s warm, and that’s enough. I scrub the dirt and grime from my body.
I lean against the tent wall lightly, letting the water hit my back, and close my eyes. The soldier’s face flashes in my mind again. Pale, terrified, trusting. I see my brother’s face in his. In all the wounded soldiers, I always see his face.
I remember the day the Chaplain came. The way my mother collapsed into herself. The way I stood frozen, unable to cry, unable to breathe. I remember thinking, If I’d been there, I could’ve saved him.
That thought has never left me for a second.
I finish rinsing off and wrap myself in a towel, before I put my P.T.’s on. I step outside the shower tent and the chill of the night air bites at my skin. The stars are out, and I pause for a moment, staring up, wondering if my brother ever looked at the same sky before he died.
Back in my tent, I sit on the edge of my cot, pulling out my notebook. I flip past charts and notes until I reach the photo tucked inside, my brother, grinning in his uniform, eyes bright with a future that never came.
I trace the edge of the photo with my thumb.
“I’m still trying,” I whisper.
The flap of the tent opens and Rachel walks in holding two cups of what could only be coffee. “Thought you could use this.”
I place the photo back in the notebook and take the cup from her with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
She sits beside me, sipping quietly. “You okay?”
I nod again. Still a lie.
Rachel doesn’t push, she never does. But after a long silence, she says, “Reyes didn’t say anything bad in the debrief, just facts. Said you were fast, focused, and saved lives.”
I blink. “He said that?”
She nods. “Also said you were reckless, but not wrong.”
I stare into my cup. “I don’t care what he thinks.”
Rachel smirks. “I think you do, at least a little bit.”
I don’t answer. Maybe I do, but that scares me more than anything. I have never felt a pull like this to someone. I never wanted to be the focus of someone’s attention, but for some reason I want to be seen by him.
Being a soldier is no guarantee for a happy life. Too many soldiers either end up divorced or they don’t make it home. For those reasons alone, I shouldn’t care. Not here, not now, but I do.
“We should get some rest while we can,” Rachel says, sitting her cup down and laying on her cot next to mine.
I nod and set my notebook and cup down next to me and lay back on my cot. Though my body is tired, my mind won’t stop racing with thoughts of Noah Reyes.
After thirty minutes of trying to fall asleep, I look over and see Rachel is asleep, so I decide to get dressed and make some rounds in the medical tent.