Blood Lily Company - Afghanistan, year 1

LXI

Last night was unreal. Between the alarm that threw us out of our beds like a certain gunshot the previous August and Kris's crisis, between our almost naked fight and that strange scene in the courtyard...

I was able to organize my thoughts to relate what happened that night, but now I have to admit I'm having a bit of trouble for the rest. And I have so many questions...

What happened with Kris?

Who attacked us? And why?

What was that weird light on the Viking's hands?

I'm sure I'm forgetting some of them.

While Erk kept our wounded alive, as well as the other guy, Doc and Nanny were able to provide first aid. The most seriously injured was our attacker, the one who survived Kris. But despite the giant's kindness, despite Doc and Nanny's Hippocratic Oath, they didn't put in more effort than that. Once his wounds were sutured and protected, they stuck an IV feed in him and put him in the small room that had been used to isolate Karl. Shorn put one of his guys in front on guard duty.

Our most seriously injured, those in need of medical monitoring, Stig, Alma, JD, Mike, Dio, were moved to the infirmary and the small ICU room. The others, Clem, Quenotte, Jo, Bloody Mary, were sent back to their room, with painkillers or fever medications and a comrade – or a wife, in Bloody Mary's case – to watch over them for the rest of the night.

When Erk was alone in the middle of the courtyard, I approached him, to help him up. His tee-shirt, his face, the top of his trousers were soaked with sweat and he was staggering.
- Come on, Erk, I'll get you to the showers.

He wanted to talk and made only a very hoarse noise.
- You can drink in the shower. I'll bring you clean clothes.

I saw his gaze slide from me to sick bay.
- And I'll go check on Kris before bringing you your duds.

He smiled, an exhausted, slightly crumpled yet very sincere smile.

At the door to the showers, I put his boots and socks in a corner, started the shower, helped him undress.

I then went to the mess hall, where Cook and his helpers had ended their strange night by starting their day with bread kneading. While I was making the usual sugar-salt mix, Mustard gave me a mug with warm apple juice, sweetened with honey and flavored with cinnamon, for Erk. Ketchup told me they'd given warm milk to Cassandra and that she was now sleeping in her big sister's arms. She had asked for her Erk but, when told that he was busy, had understood and hadn't insisted.

I went to the infirmary after that, where almost all the beds were occupied, with a comrade sitting in a chair watching the injured. On JD's bed, in the small ICU room, lying by his legs, Yaka was staring at his face and no sound could distract her.

The last bed was occupied by two sleepers, my targets. I got closer. Tito and Kris were sound asleep, a child's sleep. My lil' buddy had slipped one arm under the Icelander's neck and had thrown the other across his chest. Kris's head rested against Tito's torso. I took an extra blanket and covered them. Dawn was coming and the air was getting colder.

Nanny, exhausted, had collapsed in a corner. I put my supplies on a chair and lifted him – God he's one heavy fucker – to lay him on the sixth bed of the infirmary, the last free one on that day. I continued my boyscout good deed and covered him up. He didn't flinch. He must have been more than exhausted.

Still armed with my warm apple juice, I crossed the courtyard in a straight line, carefully avoiding the bloodstains on the gravel. I went to the brothers' room, found a tee-shirt and boxers that were too small for Erk, so walked back to the commissary and picked up things that would fit him.