Unfixable

Over the Top

"Gavin!" Nines' voice was hoarse from yelling as he dragged himself through the thick, swampy mud. It was a good thing Sixty's cackling was so loud, otherwise he'd be a target himself. Greenish brown smeared his boots and pants as he trudged onwards. It was almost up to his knees as he dragged himself forward, a medical bag slung over one shoulder as he dragged a stretcher with his free hand. The stench of rot was overpowering. Bodies abandoned days, even weeks, before. Low moans sounded from every direction. Men who'd been caught in the shelling. Men who's been shot. Men who needed help. "Gavin!" He ducked and staggered as another explosion sounded somewhere behind. The cracking or gunfire was almost deafening, forcing him to duck and weave his way through the sludge.

He'd been back in the resting camp when the alarm had sounded and word came through. They'd gone over the top and everything had gone to hell. Emergency medics had been rounded up and taken to the front to bring back as many as possible. Nines' chest had tightened at the news. Gavin was on the front. If they'd gone over the top, he'd likely gone with them. Upon reaching the trenches, he'd been relieved to at least find Sixty and Allen still holding the line. That was the only good news to be had. Gavin's unit had gone over in the third wave. Only the fourth group had made it back so far.

Nines had grabbed his bag and a stretcher and all but launched himself over the parapet. With so many men out there, and Gavin being one of them, he didn't have time to wait for a second hand. Allen had yelled after him in reproach as he'd fumbled over the barbed wire. The stretchers were heavy enough on their own. It would be even harder to pull it back alone with a body in tow. He didn't have time to worry about that. Gavin was out there somewhere. It was jarring, being in the smoky swamp. It was a wide open plain of carnage. The shattered remains of a few petrified trees remained. Jagged, broken stumps that didn't even resemble what they'd once been. Shards of wood jutted up everywhere, along with rusted bits of metal from broken shells and old rifles. Broken bodies lay in stinking, sinking heaps. The earth was thick with old rain and blood. A few sandbags had been randomly dumped, leaving small patches of cover close to the barbed wire before opening into an endless sea of open ground and deep craters. A few bodies were piled together further out where men had used fallen comrades as cover before falling themselves. There were deep craters left from shells, where injured men had stopped to hide from enemy fire. Many of them were dead already. Old bodies left over from other raids, too far out to be reached.

Nines flinched at the sound of bullets whizzing overhead and the rumble of random blasts around him. The air was thick with smoke, which was a blessing and a curse. If he couldn't see enemy lines, then they couldn't see him. He also couldn't see where he was going. It was almost impossible to search in the thick smog. He peered through the grey clouds, dodging from cover to cover where he could while yelling Gavin's name. He hopped down inside craters and clawed his way up the other side. Crouched and crept alongside piles of rotting flesh. He kept the stretcher low, dragging it through the stinking sludge. He finally found a brunette figure lying face down in the dirt. He heaved himself over the edge of the crater and threw himself to his knees, ignoring the sinking feeling as he turned the body over.

"Gavin...Gavin! Can you hear me?" He did his best to wipe the thick mud from his filthy face. His dirty green eyes were dim and unfocused, barely fluttering open at his touch. "Gavin!" He slapped him hard across the face as he'd seen Connor do with other victims. Gavin's eyes opened a little wider at the fresh stinging pain. His whole body trembled from shock. He was breathing fast as he started tearing up. Nines' jaw tightened as he noted the way his eyes were darting restlessly from side to side. He was clearly disoriented, and in a great deal of pain. His jaw tightened until he was hissing through his teeth, barely gasping breaths in and out.

"Ni-ca-I-ca-Ni-I-I-" Nines slapped him again as he opened his bag with his free hand to grab a leather strap. He had to stop the bleeding before he could move him. "I-I-can-I-can't-f-feel my-l-leg-I can't-feel my-leg!" Nines' looked grim as he hooked the strap around his thigh and tightened it as much as possible. His trouser leg was dark red beneath the thick layer of mud. Nines knew the injury was below his thigh, but that's all he could tell without stripping him down, and he couldn't do that in the middle of no man's land. He winced at the pathetic whimper that escaped Gavin's lips as he tugged the leather tighter. Gavin's only chance was getting him back to camp and getting that wound cleaned and stitched as quickly as possible.