Chapter Twenty-Six
Ashley
Reluctantly, I’d stayed enrolled in my online classes after all. I thought Dan was right, Sloane would be upset if he thought I’d dropped my classes because of him.
Two days after Dan’s appointment, I was eating lunch at my desk, catching up on paperwork, when my phone rang. I looked down to see it was Ryan calling, and immediately thought that was odd. He or Craig always waited until the evening, after I’d gotten off of work, to call.
“Hi, Ryan. What’s going on?”
“Hey, Ash. I just hung up with the doctor in Germany. They started the process for taking Sloane out of his coma.”
I felt my heart speed up.
“Oh my god! That’s such great news! Did they say how long they expect it to take?”
“They said to plan on a day or two.”
I nodded my head, even though he couldn’t see me. Finally! I was going to be able to do something other than wait.
“Okay. Have you booked your flight yet?”
“They said to hold off until he’s awake and can give the okay for visitors.”
Of course he was going to give the okay for visitors.
“Well, I’ll start looking for flights anyway.”
“Hang tight, Ash. The doctors said the military would probably be willing to fly family members Sloane approves. Just be patient a little while longer.”
“Patient” felt like my middle name these days.
“Okay. I’ll wait to hear from either him or you.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you soon.”
In the meantime, I needed to let Catherine know I was going to be taking vacation leave soon.
****
Sloane
The first thing I remembered was someone softly repeating my name, over and over. Then the sensation like my entire left side was being stung by bees made me swat at my body, which made me recoil in pain.
The quiet voice that had been saying my name, assured me, “It’s okay,” then I felt my hand being held firmly in place. A moment later, the pain subsided, and my whole body relaxed.
The second thing that registered was the sound of machines beeping before I fluttered my eyes open.
As my vision came into focus, I saw a pretty blonde woman in teal scrubs with a stethoscope around her neck standing next to my bed. She smiled warmly at me while telling me with a German accent, “Welcome back, Captain Davidson.”
I didn’t know I’d gone anywhere. But since I was obviously in a hospital room and not in a tent in the desert, something had happened.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. You were hurt in an explosion.”
Bits and pieces of what happened came flooding back to me, and I tried to sit up.
“My men. How are my men?”
I felt gentle pressure on my shoulder and found I didn’t have the strength to fight it, so I laid back in my hospital bed.
“You were transported here along with three other Marines. They are all stable.”
Relief flooded my system.
That meant O’Brien, Buckley, and Rivers had all survived.
Then I remembered we’d been on a rescue mission and Callahan had been injured, and I bolted upright—well, as best I could.
“Who is here? What are their names?”
“I’m—I’m not sure.”
I was ready to rip the cords out of my body and hop out of bed to find them myself.
“I need to know their names!”
Machines started screeching, and a small army of people in scrubs piled into the room. The next thing I remember was my world going black.
~~~~
The bee-stinging sensation was back as I slowly opened my eyes. The pretty blonde was gone, replaced by a muscular six-foot dude wearing navy-blue scrubs, with close-cropped hair. I’d recognize that haircut anywhere.
“How are you feeling, Captain?” he asked in perfect English
“My left side is killing me,” I croaked.
He nodded and pulled a vile from his pocket and plunged a needle into it.
“I can help you with that.” He flicked the syringe as he told me, “I’m your nurse, Lieutenant Commander Pritchard.”
So, I was right about him.
I watched as he injected the needle into a port that connected to a tube that led to my right arm. Within seconds, I felt better.
“Thank you,” I hoarsely whispered.
“Let me get you some ice chips,” he said, then disappeared.
A few minutes later, he returned with a cup of ice along with some reinforcements.
Another man in scrubs stepped forward and introduced himself.
“Captain Davidson, I’m Dr. Warneke, the lead doctor overseeing your treatment.”
I nodded my head in acknowledgement, and he continued, gesturing to a man dressed in fatigues. I noticed the yellowish leaf on his uniform signifying his rank as Major, but just didn’t have it in me to salute him.
I figured I’d get a pass, considering I was probably butt-naked underneath my gown.
“This is Major Branson.”
“Sir,” I whispered harshly, then tried to tip the cup of ice with my right hand, but it was too encumbered with tubes and tried to switch the glass to my left.
That’s when I noticed the bandages down my arm that were wrapped around my pinky and ring fingers. I saw the rest of my hand was fine, but I couldn’t move my arm to use it.
The nurse tipped the cup for me, and I sucked on an ice cube while Major Branson spoke.
“Your Humvee was hit by an RPG, and your squad suffered four traumatic injuries and one fatality.”
I closed my eyes tight for a minute before I opened them back up and simply asked, “Who was the fatality?”
“Second Lieutenant Shawn O’Brien He was sitting at the point of impact and killed instantly.”
It felt like all the breath left my body, and I gulped for air.
I was still processing what the major had told me when Dr. Warneke said, “We assume, based on the severity of your injuries, that you were seated directly in front of Second Lieutenant O’Brien.”
I tried to think back, but I couldn’t remember where I’d been sitting. The entire events of that day were fuzzy. Then I thought, why the fuck does it even matter where I was seated? O’Brien was dead, not me .
“When is his funeral?”
I didn’t care if I was bandaged head to toe like a mummy, I was going to pay my respects.
All three of the men’s faces grew grave, which only added to my ire. I fucking hated not knowing what the hell was going on.
Finally, the major said, “His funeral was ten days ago,” and the doctor softly added, “You’ve been in a medically induced coma for almost three weeks.”
I’m sorry, come again?