Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THORNE
My ears rang, every sense nullified by the incessant hum. Dust and debris clouded our surroundings, making it difficult to decipher where everyone had ended up. I knew I needed to move, needed to figure out what happened, but my body ached from the unrelenting explosion.
A mine. Simon had stepped on a mine.
“Shit,” I hissed, struggling to push myself onto my side. A flare of white hot agony shot through me, and I glanced down, crimson greeting me.
I’d been hit by some form of debris, the anguish beyond comparable to a gunshot wound.
But it didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter when I my men were scattered around me, whether they were still put together or not. I’d told them not to follow me, done everything I possibly could to keep them from the destruction, and I’d still failed.
Oren would never forgive me.
Pressing a palm to my abdomen, I forced myself to my hands and knees, swallowing the cry that threatened to fall.
Warmth caressed my skin, serving as confirmation that a piece of metal had severed something in my abdomen.
Failing to stop its incessant flow, I shoved my foot beneath me and pushed myself upright, everything around me blurring.
It had all been easy, nearly too easy. The estate hadn’t been guarded, and there were hardly any men. It had to have been staged, which meant only one thing…
Fucking General Valens set us up.
Unfiltered, raw screaming pierced my ears, its location hard to decipher among the cloud of smoke and the persistent ringing—but even amidst the chaos, I knew.
I fucking knew.
It was a second timbre that heightened my drive, my need to act, as Liam’s shouting never took a pause.
“F-Fuck. Help!” A mixture between a sob and a desperate shout littered the air. “Please, God, someone help!”
I moved on instinct, my feet pounding beneath me as the pain that flashed from my side to assault the rest of my body became a mere afterthought. Sprinting toward the cry, I reached down, retrieving a tourniquet in anticipation of the worst.
Liam was huddled over a body, a deep gash carved in his head from the destruction of the mine, blood pouring down his face, but he was unfazed by his wound. His hands were coated in crimson, his body painted with it as he desperately tried to hold himself together.
Simon.
“I-I can’t… I can’t…” Liam’s hands were shaking, blood splurting with each release of his fingers.
Simon was incoherent, high-pitched screams bathing the scene in a picture of horror I’d never forget. I’d seen blood, witnessed gore, but this? This was something else entirely, and my heart broke at the sight.
His lineage poured from his leg, or what was once his left leg… The limb was completely missing from his lower half, shredded into oblivion by the explosion, and Liam was in denial—a feeling I understood far too well.
“Shhh,” he shouted, but it was more like a plea. “P-Please stop, Simon. I can’t… I can’t stop it unless you don’t move.” Tears raked down his cheeks, cleaning the soot and scarlet from his face.
Sliding onto my hands and knees, ignoring the asphalt shredding through my pants, I landed by Liam. “I need you to move, Liam. Right now.”
He shook his head, hands still working tirelessly to end the bleeding that would never stop without proper attention.
Grabbing his cheeks, I ripped his attention toward me. “Liam, look at me!” My jaw feathered as I struggled to pull myself together, listening to Simon’s guttural screams. “I need to place a tourniquet if you want him to live. We have to stop the bleeding.”
“I got him.” Matt’s voice was warbled, but other than a few cuts and scrapes, he was the least injured out of the group. He tugged Liam back, his arm wrapping around his waist to haul him away.
Liam fought, his reasoning long since dissipated at the state Simon was in, but Matt held firmly, muscles working to hold him back. He gave me a solidified nod, the light in my best friend’s olive eyes far darker than ever before.
Brushing sweat-laden hair from Simon’s forehead, I looked at him. “Hey, buddy. I need you to focus on me, okay? You can’t close your eyes.”
“F-Fuck,” he groaned, his nails digging into the churned dirt.
His breathing was too rapid, his pants were tattered, and his utility belt was nowhere to be seen.
His shredded thigh was only the start of his problems, metal shards puncturing his skin from the blast. He’d taken the brunt of it, his body heaving its rejection of the foreign objects now invading him.
“I’m going to get you home,” I promised, opening the tourniquet to grant myself enough space to guide it into position. “But first, this is going to hurt like a fucking bitch. Feel free to claw at me all you wish; you can deck me in the face later.”
Before he could utter his reply, I ripped back on the material, spinning the dial with a familiarity I despised. It tightened, blood sputtering to a stop to confirm its efficiency. Turning the handle one more time, I locked it into place, slipping a hand under his neck.
“I’ve got you.” I knew movement was going to be far from bearable for him, but we had to get the fuck out of here—I only prayed the evacuation squad hadn’t been tainted by General Valens and still had a lick of sanity left to come help.
Biting my tongue as I pushed myself upright, carrying all of Simon’s weight, stars swarmed my vision. With both feet beneath me, I looked at Matt, dipping my chin with a command I’d given him more than once—desolation on a battlefield, not something we were unfamiliar with.
“Move back to the rendezvous point. We need to get them the fuck out of here.”
“Yes, Commander,” he said, swooping an arm beneath an inconsolable Liam. His face hardened, and I knew we were in deep shit. With Liam barely functioning, it was up to Matt to haul him up and off the ground, a feat that earned him a place by my side.
Pressing Simon to my chest, I glanced down at his pale face, recognizing the shock that was starting to take over—a deadly sign. “Alright, buddy. I need you to talk to me. Tell me a story. Anything.”
“Heh… now you… w-want me to talk?” Simon’s eyes fluttered, but a slight smile rested on his face. He tried to lift his hand, but it flopped back onto his chest. “Shit… can’t punch you y-yet.”
“You can kick the shit out of me when we get back, okay?” Tears welled in my eyes, the sight of him faltering, of him dying, pushing me to the brink.
“But you’ve got to fight to do that. Plus, Liam and Oren couldn’t survive without you.
You’re like the trio of dumbass musketeers, and that can’t be the case if you give up. You can’t give up.”
He coughed, a splatter of blood coating his chest. “Shit… Unpleasant,” he mumbled. “But, a trio d-doesn’t include you.” The corner of his lip tugged upward.
My bottom lip quivered, my strength fracturing into a million pieces. “Simon. Please. God, I’m fucking sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’d be like me… to go out in a blaze, but if I don’t… If I don’t…” He groaned, his complexion far lighter than even a few minutes ago. “You’re not a-a shit. Far from it,” he spat, causing himself to heave in a shaky breath. “And tell… Tell Liam…”
“Tell Liam what, Simon?” I questioned frantically, too familiar with the concept of parting wishes. “Because anything I tell him, you’re perfectly capable of telling him yourself.”
“N-Not this time.” His eyes fluttered shut, a shuddering breath exhaling. “He knows… God… He… He—”
“Simon…” My breath stilled in my chest, panic surging over me like a tidal wave. “SIMON!”
The hum of a helicopter consumed every thought, a spark of hope igniting in me.
Pushing myself harder, I picked up my pace, rushing toward shouting voices and our chance at escape.
Without faltering, the gap between us and the evac unit closed, medical supplies ready as they ushered us on board.
Passing Simon off to them felt wrong in so many ways, and as soon as they mentioned he’d flatlined, Liam lost it.
Matt tugged him close, burying Liam’s face into his chest as he rubbed his back. Silent tears fell down his cheeks, but that’s who he was. He’d be a pillar for Liam despite his own wavering emotions, a pillar for him since I’d failed.
Again.
I’d failed.
As the soldiers escorting us out worked to bring Simon back, the sounds around me faded. Stumbling, I collided with the wall, my back sliding down it as my eyes fluttered. I’d forgotten about the blood loss, the gunshot wound, but my body hadn’t.
Good.
Struggling to lift my gaze, I watched through a flicker of light and dark as panic consumed Matt’s face. Before I could utter what I wished to say, the shadows of my faults swept me away, consuming me with their unrelenting embrace.