12 Seconds (#1 in Military series)

Prologue

Prologue

Jules couldn't remember the last thing she remembered. 

Darkness. Blackness.

An explosion rang out somewhere behind her.

"-FOR GODS SAKE, JUST BREATHE!"

Who was that, Jules wondered as she realized her body was shaking and then her mind was taken up wondering why she was shaking and couldn't seem to stop it- No, that was it, someone was shaking her. 

Maybe it was same someone that kept shouting at her to breathe. Jules took a few moments to catalog herself. Her eyes were still closed but as she focused on her head she was starting to realise that they weren't voluntarily closed. They felt heavy and a sharp pain flashed across her forehead when she tried to open them. Forgetting her eyes for the moment she continued to mentally inventory the rest of her body. Her tongue felt dry; her fingers twitched beside her, her neck, whilst tender, was still in working order-

"JULES, BREATHE!"

But she was breathing, wasn't she?  Panicking, Jules focused on her lungs, hoping to feel the that age old sensation of oxygen passing in and out of her chest. But it wasn't there. Jules body began to twitch, her fingers grasping the earth beneath her as she rushed to move air through her parted lips, down her throat and into her lungs. Her mouth soured at the acidic taste right before every sense was obliterated by an enormous wave of pain.  

She wanted to scream. Her lips parted for her to scream but nothing was came out as she struggled for breath; her throat was closing in on itself and her lungs felt like they were on fire as they pressed against the confines of her chest walls.

The pain seemed to reset whatever weight was holding her eyelids down and they flew open. For a few seconds she was blinded and all she could see was a white blanket but gradually shapes started to emerge and colours. She was looking up at a blue sky but it was moving too quickly, as if on a canvas. It took her a second to realise that the sky wasn't moving, she was. 

Exerting the slightest of pressure on her head, Jules managed to turn- or rather, drop - her head to the right where her cheek pressed against her shoulder. Looking past her camouflaged shoulder she could see the edge of a stretcher and boots walking beside her. She was being carried away, very quickly. 

"Jules, breathe!" Someone was screaming at her and as the stretcher dipped her head rolled back to the left until she was facing straight up. The sky had changed and there were now clouds above her for a the briefest of moments before the a face blocked out the sun. As her eyes adjusted she already knew who it was; Carlos Ramirez.

What she could see of him was covered in a thick layer of brick dust and there was dried blood by his right eye. 

Carlos. 

And with that one thought all her memories came flooding back. There had been an ambush, a bomb exploded and she was thrown against the wall. Her eyes winced as she remembered the fierce pain that radiated through her skull. 

Then an even worse thought penetrated her thick haze- 

"Marc," Jules rasped, Carlos would know what she meant. He had been with them in that explosion. Where was he?

"Don't worry about Marc," Carlos told her, his eyes looking ahead of them, "Don't worry about anything, just focus on breathing!"

Julia stared up at him, confused, why wouldn't he tell her where Marc was? But the opportunity to ask anything else was gone as she felt the familiar gust of wind and cloud of sand that came from helicopter blades. Carlos bent over to protect her face from the bullets of sand that careened across them. Julia wanted to cry as the high pitched engine assaulted her already burst eardrums, her body tensing as her stretcher was slid into the aircraft.

But she had to know, she did not know when she would see him again. 

"Carlos!" She cried, she could no longer see him. With a lot of pain, Jules lifted her head to look back at him but before she could call out, her body suddenly felt very light as she saw all the blood covering her limbs. Someone had connected a blood bag to her arm and was squeezing it urgently.

"Wait- Carlos! Marc!?" She screamed. 

"Don't worry about Marc," Carlos's voice reached her, but she did not know from where, "You're going home!"

Before she could demand a better answered the helicopter door was closed and she was being held into the stretcher by unknown people. They were undoubtedly trying to save her life, but her life was back out there. She told them they needed to go back for Marc but no one was paying her any attention. And as much as she would have loved to force them she knew she could barely lift her head an inch without an extreme amount of pain. It was futile. 

A few seconds later everything started to go dim, as if someone was turning out the lights very slowly. Julia tried to fight it; tried to stay awake but her body grew heavy and limp she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

Her head lolled to the side and in those last few moments before she lost consciousness, she saw them. Two birds. It was strange to see birds flying to close to a battleground but they seemed oblivious to the carnage below them, they were just flying peacefully together high in the clouds.

This left a smile on Jules's lips long after she had succumbed to her injuries.