Cold Hatred (Book 2 & 3 of the Damned of the 2/19th) -Updated and Rewritten

Chapter 7.3

The voice, strange and unfamiliar, woke me from my dreams of being curled up and dozing in Nancy's cleavage.

"How is he?" the LT asked.

"Recovering, for what it's worth, sir," Nancy said.

"Medevac is not available at this time, Specialist Nagle," LT James said quietly. "I have complete and total faith in your ability to keep Corporal Stillwater alive as long as possible. While I understand that you may not be able to keep him alive indefinitely, I do believe that his chances of survival are increased by your treatment. How extensive are his injuries?"

"I don't think his brain is bleeding, sir. I think he suffered a cluster headache that turned into a migraine, which in turn shut him right down. He took a lot of damage two months ago, the low oxygen level up here and his insistence on reading isn't helping, and he should be on bed rest for at least another week," Nancy told him. I tried to open my eyes and could tell by the pulling sensation that they'd been taped shut. Again.

"Specialist Nagle, do you honestly think that if you tried to put Corporal Stillwater on a quarters profile that he would follow instructions, or do you think that he would return to work?" LT James asked. I heard Stokes snort in laughter. "Precisely. I would prefer that he not sustain additional injury and I am concerned about how much more additional damage he can withstand."

Nancy chuckled again. "Sir, the problem with Stillwater and Bomber is they're physically really tough, which means they can soak up massive amounts of damage before they drop. Then once they drop they're so messed up that you'll be lucky to keep them alive for a few minutes longer to stabilize them. However, if they're able to hang in there and survive till they're stabilized, then they'll make it. I'm just hoping I can keep him stabilized long enough to heal up, and that idiot Texan doesn't choke on his own tongue or give me something else to worry about."

There was silence for a minute, and the lizard threw an image of LT James standing there thoughtfully for me to reference. The wiring was spread out in his little work station, some of the panels were pulled apart, and static kept shooting across his screens. His outline of my body had a strobing red dot in my head, another in my shoulder, showing the little lizard where I was suffering serious injury. I could see the image of the LT on one of the static filled screens, and knew he was standing in the middle of the room weighing everything carefully in that computer he called a brain.

"That lies upon Corporal Stillwater and Specialist Bomber, Specialist Nagle. That physical resiliency will serve them well on the field of battle, but if they do not alert you to serious injury within a timely manner then your conscious is clear." He cleared his throat. "Some men, they fight until the last drop of blood and do not stop until the bugle is sounded."

"I'm right here," I managed to get out. The lizard jumped away from the shower of spark from the wiring, but diving right back in when the words came out recognizable.

"Indeed you are, Corporal. Forgive us for discussing you in such a manner as we thought you still unconscious from your injuries," the LT said, and I heard his boots come nearer. His hand, heavy, callused, and warm, settled on my forehead. "I am merely acquiring a status report from Specialist Nagle regarding your condition, as is my duty as Rear Detachment OIC."

"I'll be all right, sir, it was just a headache," I told him.

"If it was 'just a headache' I sincerely doubt it would have involved grand-mal seizures, blindness, and unconsciousness," the LT replied. No sarcasm, no snide tone, just a simple statement of fact made all the more creepy by his inflectionless monotone.

"Hold still, you're gonna lose a few more eyelashes," Nancy told me, and I felt her rip the tape off of my eyes. "Blink for me." I could see her, and slowly blinked for her. "Good. Now the left and then the right." I followed her instructions, and she put a penlight in my eyes. "Follow the light." I watched it move back and forth, losing it from my sight when it got further to the left toward where my peripheral vision should have been. "His left eye's a bit janky still, sir, but I think he's on the mend."