Isolation & Fear (Damned of the 2/19th Book Seven)

C.W.B

GPS Location Error
Inertia Navigation System Offline
Unknown Shelter
TIME/DATE STAMP ERROR
Unknown Time

It was strange, this world of shadow I lived in. I could see moving shadows, and was blinded if I looked toward heat sources, which I had assumed were open flames. I could tell when Stillwater was nearby thanks to his smell (unmistakably male and I had to admit, arousing) and the sheer size of him. I had learned to orient myself based on what I touched. I could bathe myself by the fireplace, but had to turn my face away from the fire before it made my vision go white and my eyes hurt. I could move from the chamber pot to the table to the bed. I didn't want to go into the workshop beyond where Stillwater had set a stool down for me.

Oddly enough, he sat me down in front of an honest to God loom and taught me how to use it even though I could only see vague shadows and movement.

The clack clack clack of the loom was comforting. I could use my fingers to see how much I had accomplished, and quickly learned to make sure the cloth I was making was tight and regular.

My hair was growing out, down to just below my shoulders, and I would sit there while Stillwater sat there and brushed it for me.

He had also set iron bars by my bed for me to sit there and lift, curl, and use to exercise. He would also massage my sore muscles when I was done, strong fingers crushing the muscle into pliability. It was strange, nice, but strange.

I only wore only a single or double wrap around my eyes, which tingled a lot, to keep the bright light from hurting my sensitive eyes. Recovering from snowblindness had made me progress from complete darkness to light sensitivity and only able to see shadows and movement.

Part of me was relieved at the fact I might regain my vision. Another part of me was terrified. If my vision came back, what would I see? Where were we? When were we? More than that, if we went back to the Army, would they send me back to Atlas.

The idea of being sent back to Atlas made me cringe.

I was stuck. I wanted my vision back, but I didn't want to be trapped in this cave with whatever Ant/Stillwater had become, but I didn't want to go back to Atlas either.

The loom went clack clack clack as I continued to work. I was making cloth so I could make myself a shirt or dress, since right now I just wore a tanned fur cloak, naked underneath.

I could hear Stillwater snoring from his bed. His nose needed rebroken, that odd whistling told me that he had a deviated septum, which would also be interfering with his ability to breathe. At first I thought it was from the Atlas Detonation, but now I was wondering if it had happened after I had locked myself and the preggos in the War Fighter Tunnels. Something had happened. Something bad.

But I didn't know what.

I wished he could talk, or would talk. His silence led to me being silence, and I sometimes wondered if I'd forget how to talk just like him, and I'd spend the rest of my life grunting and silent.

Worse, would I be content?

Stillwater's snores didn't answer me.

OPERATION [REDACTED] SIGMA KEYWORD (MIME CADDY) // 50 //NOSSBI // BLACKBRIAR
[LOCATION REDACTED] (WAIVED) // 50 // NOSSBI
[DATE REDACTED] (WAIVED) // 50 // NOSSBI
RESTRICTED (OMAHA) ECI // CNWDI // HVO BLACKBRIAR
RESTRICTED (SIGMA 1) ECI // CNWDI // HVO BLACKBRIAR
TOP SECRET // (FEATHERWEIGHT OX) //NOFORN/ORCON// 150 // NOSSBI
SAP (BLUE BOOKCASE) (WAIVED) // GAMMA
SCI VRK ([REDACTED]) (WAIVED) // ECI

The Navy SEAL, one Lieutenant Commander Kingston, limped up the hill and stopped next to me. His uniform was marred by the field dressings on his right leg and left arm, and he had another field dressing across his head, the pad on his cheek.

"You gonna just stand here, Corporal?" He asked me.