99 Voicemails

(99 - 90) = ?

#9

The snow is setting over the freshly left footprints and body prints of several soldiers. The only remnants of the deceased soldiers and the terrorists are the bloody snow angels that they have left behind unconsciously. It is quarter to twelve and I couldn't help but swallow the new lump that has formed in my throat, causing me to choke on my very own breath.

We come across several people in our life. Different types, kinds and sizes. Not everyone makes a lasting impact on us. Someone like Osha. Love at first sight. Some who we hate instantly. Some who we neither hate nor like but just keep on waiting to see if that person is worth having in our life. Some we take an instant liking to. People like Lieutenant Malik.

The moment he came barging in, demanding the hell out of me and threatening me with his authority, it took every ounce of resolve for a devoted patriot like me to restrain myself from saying something rude to him. But the moment I saw his glistening eyes and overheard his cracked voice and the words that rolled out of his heart filled with so much love for his wife, shook the patriot in me and made me see him for the loving man he was.

I've even complained to the higher authorities about some officers using the booth out of turns but never about Lieutenant. And now I realise I've grown to respect the man and couldn't help but feel scared and depressed since he had took 4 direct hits from the sniper.

Two in Shoulders. One in his right arm and the other one, which is scaring the hell out of me, had found its way to his chest.

He is unconscious since then. We were hit without warning, yet he managed to take down so many. The firing started from the midnight and continued for straight 5 hours on and off. Without his leadership, we wouldn't have sufficed for 2 minutes barely. He directed the troops immediately and efficiently. I managed to lift him after the assault and bring him over to the first aid. He was wasting a lot of blood. A lot.

I couldn't help but think of his dear wife who refused his calls day and night. That woman had a stone for heart. No. Even a stone would melt for Mr.Malik's words. That woman had a void in place of a heart.

"Sargent Louis?" I turn to see a beautiful young woman call out my name.

"You are...?" She questions with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm Louis Ma'am. Like you called." She laughs.

"Oh no. You are what to Mr.Malik here?"

"I'm...I'm... Just a random soldier." I don't want to elaborate on my relationship with him. I don't think he would appreciate me using his name.

"Okay. Come inside the tent. It's freezing here." She says and before I can even reply she withdraws her protruding head.

I walk in to see several soldiers, some I recognize and some I do not, dead, injured, frozen and in every other form. I turn my heart into stone and proceed through the long column.

"Here he is. He must be around sometime now. The anaesthetic effect is beginning to wear off. He will be in pain but he'll recover in a week or so. I'll keep tabs on him" She talks like a lit up cracker.

"Are you... a do-"

"No I'm not. I'm a nurse. But there are a very few doctors here and all are treating worse cases than him. I'm not any random nurse. I know what I'm doing. You could ev-"

"Woah! Madam I was just trying to make a conversation. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Pardon me." I half shivered and prayed to the gods to save me from her.

"That's fine. I'll be in this wing. Call me once he's waken." She says sternly and hands me his wallet before striding off.

I move in closer to the bed to take in his rather small form and lose it when I see the several tubes running all over him. Even from his nose and stomach. He looks so young and carefree than his usual self. There are no creases that always adorn his forehead.