Blood Lily Company - Afghanistan - Year 2

XX

We found Erikson. A bullet had taken half of his head off. He was so fucking young. 18, 19 years old...

We found Dragunov. With a gut injury, like Kaczynski, he had bled out before he was found. His face was so serene...

We loaded them in the bed of the Land Rover, wrapped in blankets. We would have to start packing body bags in the pack of patrols, the way things were going. Shit, where's my mind at, really...

Vlad's face, slightly less dusty, was still expressionless. He had taken Katja's hand again and was talking to her softly, as Erk encouraged him to do.

The Viking, for his part, put both his hands, scoured with medical alcohol and shining, back on the bloody mass of Kaczynski's stomach. Our gentle giant's face was drawn and pained.

We picked our walkers up, including the four-legged one, we sat our asses on the dropside and slipped our feet under the mattresses, to prevent them from slipping. We kept an eye on the landscape scrolling behind the guy that was sitting opposite us. Benji was watching the rear, Bear and JD were leaning on the cabin roof to watch the front, Baby Jane in the cabin keeping company to Jude at the wheel and Curly manning the GPS.

We were going slowly, to avoid shaking the injured. Kris made Erk drink, the vile concoction, apparently, as Erk was shaken by a massive shudder. But he didn't complain this time.

- Erik, can you let go of him, or not? You're turning grey, now, Kris said as calmly as possible.

- I'd rather wait until Doc has seen him. Are they far?

- Not really, Curly answered, having asked the base.

- I hope they'll be quick, grumbled the little brother.

- I asked them to step on it. Ah, they have us in their sight.

And two minutes later we had the medics on the Rover's bed. Three guys from Curly's platoon swapped places with them on the bikes and we resumed our journey, under good escort.

- Erk? Doc asked.

- Hmm?

- You can let go, now, Nanny and I are taking care of him.

- But he's still bleeding...

- No, it's ok, you've done a good job. You can rest now.

- I can't, there's...

- Erk, you want me to tell Nanny to dose you?

- No, no, that's fine.

- Good. Kris, keep him warm and make him drink.

We gave wipes to Kris, he cleaned the giant's paws, then he took the clean covers we handed him and wrapped the Viking in them, blocking his arms, leaned him against himself and gave him some water. Just water, this time.

Playfully, Erk moved his shoulders, his head, as if he wanted to make a place for his head on his pillow. Kris just smiled. And between one heartbeat and the next, the giant was asleep. Around him, I saw plenty of smiles full of fondness. And what I find funny is that they're mostly for him, those fond smiles. There're not a lot of other comrades that warrant that kind of smiles.

Nanny smirked, his eye on Kris, who had put his chin on his brother's helmet and closed his eyes. Kneeling between the two mattresses, the nurse handed Doc or Alex what they needed. Doc was taking care of Kaczynski's stomach, Alex of Katja's head.

Under escort by the bikes, we were driving slowly in enemy territory, just out of a bloody, devastating fight against the master of said territory. Telling you that we all felt like we had the cross-hair of a sniper rifle between our shoulder blades was a euphemism. We were as nervous as thoroughbreds before the start of a race.