Paint Me Saved ✓ Book 1

20. Of Fire and Ash

Dedicated to all those who fought for us, all those who are protecting us and all, who left us

We thank you for your service.

Leonardo

The smoke-filled sky burnt my eyes. Desert sand settled on my goggles, cutting my vision in half and rendering me to rely on my sense of hearing.

The sounds of bullets swooshing past my ears jumbled my nerves. A searing pain shot through my limb, penetrating my pelvic bone, branching into every muscle in my body.

I still tried.

My troops growled for medics. The smell of burnt flesh danced in the air. My chest gripped over my ribs. My stomach churned bile, tossing it up but I bit into my sleeve, unwilling to throw up like a weakling. They needed me and I had to keep moving.

The ringing in my ear - a constant buzzing grew louder, bleeding my ears, pricking the sides of my head - drilling into my skull and melting my brain.

I still tried.

My feet trembled for grounding as the earth shook. Unlike an earthquake, this was a human-induced intervention. An intervention for our encroachment upon their territory.

Something cracked beneath me - a soft snap.

Although I couldn't see, I knew what I stepped on. I have heard plenty of sounds; horrifying, gut-wrenching ones but that one, that soft crack was different. There was no protest from the exposed bone when it snapped. The man who once had it inside his body assimilated with the universal powers that created him.

My insides squeezed shut. It begged me to disobey the marching order.

I still tried.

A loud boom compromised what remained of my hearing. It tossed me back, miles from where I began. The burnt tire and aluminium stench lingered, marrying the repugnant smell of human flesh.

Muffled voices called out for me. Cried out for a medic. Cooed out to God.

The constant buzzing died, only a flatlining resonated from my ears to my chest. I could taste the gritty soil, the metallic tang. I was injured too. My heart started drumming when I continued my march. The enemies were hiding in bunkers, attacking us from higher altitudes. They had the advantage.

A grenade shook the earth and spewed lava from the skies. I had nowhere to hide from the hellfire, nowhere to run.

I still tried.

I felt someone pat my shoulder. It was Specialist Novak, signalling me to cover for him.

"No, you're running black on ammo, Novak. Stay put." I said, clutching his elbow.

"You are bleeding, Sarg..." He thrust his fist above my ankle where blood-soaked uniform clung onto my skin. "Cover for me. I'll get it done."

With two fingers signalling forward, he dropped to the ground, crawling with the others. Aligned in a burrow, I scoped the target location for movements, index finger hovering over the trigger.

Something blasted again. My head spun around, my team was missing. Everything fell silent. A vacuum suctioned my ears, braiding into my spine.

"Brenton."

Someone needed me. I couldn't make out whom.

"MEDIC," I tried yelling. My hearing and sight had long been compromised, it was now when my voice too gave up. "Medic." Only tears dripped.