Call of Duty Ghosts: The Aftermath

Chapter 27

22 Hours Later

I let out a loud sigh, glaring at Slate.

"Come ON! Just let me back out there!" I whine, and Slate groans then turns to face me.

"Keegan, Elias said you're to rest. So I'm making sure that's exactly what you're doing." He plainly states, and I sigh.

"But it's been a full day and I'm not out there yet!!" I exclaim, and Slate shakes his head.

"Tough shit. Now shut up."

I frown, holding back any sarcastic, derogatory comments.

Looking up, I see Merrick and Spike and Gavin and Kick and Elias all standing next to each other, firing furiously over the wall. The men around them drop like flies, being shot back from their defensive positions to their bloody grave on the ground.

Swinging my gaze around, I see fewer and fewer men holding the line in the late afternoon light.

The sun low in the sky creates dark shadows, hiding many of the Federation soldiers. From where I sit, the only trace of the Feds I can see is the bright flash of their guns.

Rorke is yelling commands to the men, then he looks over at us.

"Slate, get Keegan to cover!" He shouts, and I glance up at Slate, who nods.

"Yes, sir!" He runs over to me and bends down to pick me up, but I shove him away.

"No way! I'm not going anywhere!" I shout, and Slate drops his shoulders with a heavy sigh.

"Keegan..." he starts, but I narrow my eyes.

"Don't 'Keegan' me! I'm a soldier just like you! Treat me like one! I'm not a kid!" I shout, and Slate raises his eyebrow.

"Yes, you are." He pushes my arms out of the way and picks me up.

I struggle against him, but his tight hold won't cease.

"LET ME GO!" I scream, flailing in his arms like a child.

Merrick turns to gaze back at me, and he sighs, shaking his head. Catching my eye, he gives me an exasperated look.

"Just go with Slate." He mouths, and I frown at him, narrowing my eyes. He raises his eyebrow, and I sigh, relaxing my body. Merrick turns back to the line, then disappears from my view as Slate carries me away.

He sets me down far from the front lines, standing in front of me with his hands on his hips.

"Not a kid, huh?" He remarks in a sarcastic tone.

I hang my head, looking to the side.

I hear Slate sigh, then he kneels next to me.

"Keegan, you're only seventeen. You'll get your chance. You just need to heal up first." He says, and I frown.

"I feel fine, Slate. I don't need to heal up any." I growl.

But in reality, my side still hurts like hell.

The red-stained bandages under my shirt, pressed tightly against the wound, are stained with both my sweat and my blood. The pain from it shoots through me every time I turn.

Slate's right. I DO need to heal up first.

But I don't want to.

I want to be on the front lines with Merrick.

Sighing, I lean back and close my eyes. The late afternoon turns into night, and I know the fighting will end soon.

But it won't end soon enough.