The Medic || Ghost [Simon Riley] Story.

Airwaves

Myla

Price raises his fist, signaling for attention. "We're losing daylight," he announces, turning to face the group. Ghost hovers beside him, thumbs looped in his belt.

"It's probably best if we move deeper into the woods and set up camp. No fires, no noise. From now on, only whispers."

Ghost chuckles mischievously. "That means you, loudmouth," he says, pointing his gaze directly at me.

We arrive at a somewhat secluded clearing, where large rocks and boulders offer cover. There's even a small cave for shelter if needed.
Gaz skips over to me as I set down my pack.

"Nash, could you take a look at my blisters?" he asks.

I nod, gesturing for him to wait until I distribute oral rehydration sachets and paracetamol to everyone for any aches they may have. Soap immediately wrinkles his nose at the scent of blackcurrant.

"It's not up for negotiation, Soap. I'm not carrying your ass in 10 hours when you're fucked from dehydration. And the pills are just a precaution." I shift my gaze to Ghost, who is leaning against a boulder, somehow making it look normal-sized. I'm almost convinced he has gigantism.

"You too, Casper! Drink it. We don't have a tank to haul your across the wasteland either."

As I hunker down in front of Gaz's boot, out of the corner of my eye, I see both Soap and Ghost flip me off in unison. I can't help but chuckle as I peel off the boot.

"Oh, Gaz, dude, your feet fucking stink." I retch into my balled fist. Damp, wrinkly skin flakes off, his toenails a mixture of white and yellow. And the smell... there isn't a word in the English language to describe how utterly putrid they are.

Gaz shrugs shamelessly. "I do a lot of water work."

"Dry your feet, man. You've got trench foot—"
"Shut up, no, I don't."

Despite the stench, and the athletes foot, I bathe the sores and blisters before drying them as thoroughly as I can. Sprinkling some talc between his toes, I put a steroid cream on the wounds and send him on his way.

Price keeps the group in the fast roping pairs, which means Ghost and I are first on watch. Price and Gaz fall asleep quickly. Soap keeps himself awake a little longer to allow them to get into a deep sleep before his snoring starts. And it kind of makes me feel sorry for him. He pulls out a deck of cards, dealing him and Ghost a game of switch.

Their game doesn't last long, it gave me 20 minutes to rest my eyes before I had to start my part of the watch.

I'd love to say that I sat staring out at the stars letting my mind wander to thoughts of back home but I got pretty good at emptying my head when I'm away. It makes me homesick, and when I'm homesick I'm not at my best. So I stare out at the vast emptiness, with my vacant thoughts. The only sounds I can hear are Soap's soft snores and the odd bristle as the breeze meanders through the trees.

My eyes roam across to Ghost, his mask the only part of him visible to me. His black tactical gear blending into the darkness. He shuffles a little, and my lips lift knowingly. His ass is as numb as mine. I hear him sigh, before his head raises to get a look at Price. Ghost reaches into the top pocket of his vest and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. I hear the distinctive open and close of the zippo, but he never lights the cigarette.

"Pussy." I think to myself.

Smirking to myself I reach for my own little comfort, the pack of British eucalyptus gum that I bought in the airport. I love the way it clears my sinuses.