Call of Desire

9. Fear

fear
/fir/
noun
an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

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Ghost could see their exfil in the distance, the helo hovering above the ground, kicking up dust. The truck was running on fumes, struggling to operate.

"You see that, Soap?" Ghost gestured to the small black dot on the horizon. "We made it." He looked over at the Scotsman, who had fallen unconscious hours beforehand.

The moment he turned his attention back to the road, the truck's engine whined, the petrol depleted.

"Shit." He mumbled, grabbing his handheld comms device.

"Price? You copy?" He exited the truck, leaning against it. "Price?"

"Copy. You made it. How far out are you?" Price's voice sent waves of relief down Simon's spine.

"Not far, I can see you. But our vehicle has run out of fuel. Going to have to walk from here."

"Good luck, Lieutenant." Captain Price stated. "What's Soap's condition?"

"Unconscious, but alive." Simon walked around to the passenger side of the truck, gently opening the door. Soap inhaled softly, regaining awareness.

"What happened?" he murmured, those two words straining him.

"Out of fuel, we've gotta walk."

"Shite..."

"Don't stress, it's fine. We're only a few miles away." Ghost assisted the injured man out of the truck, having to support most of his weight.

"I cannae walk, Simon."

"I know." Ghost didn't hesitate before lifting Soap's limp body, bridal style, causing several noises of protest from the Scotsman. "Quit your bitching, you and I both know we don't have many other options."

"Fine..." John was too weak to fight. He rested his head on Ghost's shoulder as the Brit began jogging. "You're strong, aren't you, Riley?"

"Just relax, Johnny." He huffed.

"Simon..."

"Don't say it."

"Consider it, Simon." he exhaled weakly.

"I'm not fucking leaving you," Ghost growled, "We're so fucking close, Johnny!" Soap's arm fell limply at his side.

"Fuck..." he sighed, closing his eyes.

"Stay awake."

"Trying, Ghost."

"Do your best."

"Yes, sir..." Soap groaned, his vision fading for a moment due to the pain.

"Just hold on, mate. We'll be there soon." Ghost remarked. He often trained by running long distances with weight added to him, but he never expected to be carrying a dying soldier in his arms while sprinting.

He glanced down at his companion. Soap looked miserable, staring at the sky. His pale face was covered with sweat.

"Just keep breathing, Johnny." Simon cooed. "I need you."

"Do you now?" Soap whimpered, flinching.

"Yes." He spoke firmly. "When we get back, and when you're better, I'll buy you a drink, okay?"