The Aftermath

57

Sunday Morning 6am

The rocket blasts away the wall beside them sending shrapnel everywhere. Large chunks of stone missile through the air. Dust clouds blind every line of sight. Tom is buried when another section of the wall crumbles and falls down. Rifle fire sounds from the distance; quick barks, three and five round bursts. Tom crawls out of the rubble and the first thing he realizes is that no one is returning fire. The dread that he is the only one still alive makes a fist in his gut.

Staying low he pulls his medic kit out of the rubble and his rifle. He checks the barrel, and pulls the magazine, shakes it hard and slaps against his thigh, then slaps it into the rifle again. He pulls the slide, putting a bullet in the chamber, and listens to the gun fire. A bullet hits part of the pile that use to be the wall. The ricochet wines past him with a loud scream, but it gives him direction, confirming what his ears are telling him. He slides over the rubble and gets into a position of height and cover, and then starts sending three round bursts back at the enemy.

He is firing blind, but he doesn't need to see them to keep them wary. The dust is clearing and Tom hears another rifle to his left start up, and then another to his right. Rocks move behind him and a solider crawls back out of the burial.

"Are you alright?" he calls.

"Yeah doc, we're fine! Just dirty and pissed off!"

"Where's Simmons?"

And then Tom sees him. He is out on another pile of rubble. His body is spread-eagle, and his left leg looks awkward. He's not moving. Bullets are hitting close to him from the enemy.

Tom grabs his medic kit and says, "Cover me, I'm going for him."

"Shit doc, that's suicide!" Gray yells, but Tom is already moving across the rubble.

"Cover me anyway!"

Tom gets to Simmons and three bullets strike the stones near them. The shots are close. Close enough to feel. After looking at his leg, Tom's first thought is, he's fucked. The whole thigh is ripped back. He can see the bone. It is amazing that the femoral artery isn't cut. The bone is broken; crushed by the blunt strike of stone smashing in from the rocket explosion. Tom hits Simmons with a shot of morphine and then takes out wrapping from his kit to hold the leg together.

Bullets keep popping the stone and dirt around him as he works. One hits his vest at an angle, pulling at it, rather than punching him.

He uses two nearby sticks for a splint, and then starts wrapping the leg. Simmons comes awake with scream. Tom hits him again with the morphine. "Cool it Major. You're busted up."

A bullet hits Simmons in the arm, burning a furrow through his triceps.

"Get the fuck out of her doc!" He rasps.

"Fuck you Major, sir." Tom tells him, continuing to wrap the leg.

"I'm going to bust you for that!"

"I hope so, sir."

Tom gets the leg wrapped and padded. Then he grabs Simmons by the vest and pulls him off the pile and down behind it. Simmons screams all the way. It is a horrible gut wrenching sound.

There is another cry behind them, one of cheers and laughter. The men of the unit are now creeping closer to them. One of the men sends a grenade hurling toward the buildings the enemy fire is coming from. It hits the roof and detonates. Another grenade, and then another is launched, detonating near the flashes of rifle fire.