There was a click and then a hum as I set my sword in its place. It had begun to charge. Then I also placed the weapons of those who were unable to do it for themselves. Other clicks and hums soon filled the weapons room. We all searched each other's faces. Yes, Jameson was alive and whole. No one had seen Carter. Our faces were dirtier and bloodier than normal. And there were fewer of us. The wounded, missing, and KIA lists would be posted later.
"Any word on Martinez?" I knew he had been wounded. I had seen it. But there was no word.
"Sergeant Weaver, there are some things I'd like to discuss..." Captain Clark began. I looked up at him and glared. He was large, just in general a big man. I was a short African American woman. With one hand he could lift me off the ground and keep me out of the way. That's assuming he could get a hand on me. It wasn't a fight he wanted to have.
"Later. I have to check on my men," I snapped. Private Wilson was shoveling food in his mouth. Nieto and Maillaro were with female soldiers behind locked doors. I didn't ask any more questions.
And Martinez was in the hospital.
"Will he live?" that was the only question I cared about. The doctor paused, the pages of the chart sliding through his still fingers.
"Shit, I don't know. We're doing our best but..." he gestured around him. Every bed was full. That included the ones which had been pillaged from around the base earlier. From another bed, a stream of beeps became solid, summoning forth all the doctor's and nurses. I left. Tomorrow I would check n Martinez again.
Captain Clark was waiting for me. He had been my constant shadow.
"Now, what did you want to discuss?" I asked.
I'm pullin' for ya, Martinez!
ReplyDelete