When Given a Lemon

Part 11

A medic appears in front of me, ushering me into their tent to check my vitals. I hadn't realized until I sat down on the bench just how worn out I was. But other than fatigue and aching soles that have spent far too much time running in these heavy boots, I feel fine. They look at my fingers and toes, checking their colors and making me wiggle them, to make sure none showed any signs of frostbite. Then they send me to get changed into fresh clothing and fed a hot, albeit bland, meal before retiring early.

Someone even stokes up the fire pit by our tent more than usual for us, causing the bright heat to saturate even into the back of our small tents where my toes usually freeze. A large stack of wood is even piled up nearby so that it can be kept going longer. Merryl and his tentmate are also moved next to ours so that we could all be monitored together. Yawning, Merryl waved his goodnight then climbed into his own tent and closed the flap. I have a feeling they will sleep well tonight, surrounded by warmth and dry inside of their own tent like this.

I know they've stoked up the fire to be sure we are all properly thawed, and I appreciate it more than they know, even when realizing it's really not necessary, but I bury that thought deep. I may feel a hell of a lot better right now than I had after getting submerged inside the frigid lake in my old bedroll, so I wasn't worried even a little bit, but I'm not above enjoying some extra warmth and comfort.

Maybe it would have been different if Merryl hadn't found shelter or gotten the fire started; the fire being a key point.

Not that those officers seemed like a mother hen after finding its lost chicks or anything. Besides the nice fire and checking us over, the medics didn't seem to be too concerned and I would hardly call this being pampered.

I'll take what I can get, so I set myself to enjoy an extra warm evening of rest without obligation.

Quickly changing into clean, dry clothes I went out to hang the soiled pieces out to dry, hoping they won't harden into ice and shatter in the blistering wind. It could happen with my poor luck, leaving me with only one set of clothes out here. But Lemon's clothes also hung nearby so I’ll take that as a sign that it will be okay since I have yet to see them with bad luck for anything.

Sleeping inside the safety of my bedroll tucked within our nice warm tent that night, with Lemon snuggled in close for added warmth, was almost heavenly. The thought made me a little sad because it meant I had been through so much worse to consider this anything even remotely good, let alone devine. It even made me chuckle to myself in irony, stopping when Lemon grumbled in their sleep.

My dreams that night mirrored these thoughts as images of the last few days scrambled themselves up inside my head. Lost in a snowstorm or blacked out night, unable to see or hear except for little glimmers of faces and shapes. Some provoked longing, others disgust, few despair. Even an imagined, ungainly monster made an appearance in my dreams but even then I was too tired to properly react, somehow making it dissipate into a bright fog that crackled and flickered like a fire.

I woke the next morning still tired despite the extra rest we’d been granted. Hopeful that we would be given a little more recoup time, I crawled out of my tent and redonned my clothes but luck and the captain's patience had already run out and we didn't even get breakfast before we were sent right back out into the forest.

“Orders are to retrieve what is left of the soldier.” We're given in deadpan, as if we were told to go pick up empty wine barrels, not pieces of someone's lifeless corpse.

“Why collect the body now?” Lemon argued. “The others had already decided to abandon it first off and I had already given the name tag to one of the officers.”