The Former Lover [Sequel To Military Minds]

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"At least fifty people have been killed, following a tragic train crash this afternoon in Sunbury...."

Cameron's eyes fluttered open. A well made-up, blonde news reporter sat behind the desk on TV, reading out that day's bulletin. Usually, he would sit and watch the news for the full hour, but his mind was elsewhere.

Rebecca had been unconscious for four hours. A cannula stuck out from the inside of her elbow, and her catheter hung from the side of the hospital bed. Bruises were forming on her face, from where Miranda had hit her. Most were greyish brown, but some were purple.

He moaned groggily, rubbing a hand over his face. His back was aching from where the bullet had pierced skin. The surgeons had removed it, but the memory of that day was still fresh in his mind.

He had run to his commodore upon receiving a text from Millie, hauling the door open and flinging himself carelessly in.

Cam, we r running from Miranda. she found us. plz help xx
- M

And so he had driven hurriedly to the station, parked the car, and flung himself out into a half-stumble half-run.

Just as he had run onto the platform, the train had pulled away, heading south towards the city. He'd sworn, turning on his heel and running back towards his car. As he had driven parallel to the tracks, along Evans Street, the train had exploded.

A massive fireball had ripped through the sky, fragments of metal being propelled outward in all different directions. Watching this tregedy, Cameron's heart had dropped dead inside his chest.

Rebecca.

Without thinking, he had pulled up on the side of the road and once again flung himself out, bounding towards the mess. No matter how fast he ran, he couldn't close the distance between himself and the train. His legs had turned to jelly, his heart beat loudly in his ears and chest, and for the longest time, he was out of breath.

"Mills!"

Cameron came to an abrupt halt, eyes widening. She was still alive. Trapped, but alive.

"Hang on Becca!' He had called out, unsure of whether or not she could hear him.

He had dashed to the wreckage where he had heard her voice, and began frantically pulling piece after piece from the pile, until he saw her, covered with dirt and stones, coughing. Her one-piece military uniform had been torn in places, revealing tanned skin beneath, and thick ribbons of crimson blood.

The stitches that had been holding her chest together were busted, and her thigh had been crushed by the rubble. She was bleeding out. She could die.

He attempted to think of something, but nothing had come to mind. All he felt was panic, mixed with worry and fear.

Glenn had come to their aid. Together, he and Cameron had dialled an ambulance. They had sent a helicopter instead, and had airlifted her to the Royal Melbourne Hopspital, where she had undergone an immediate blood tranfusion.

The operation had saved her life. Just.

"You look stuffed, kid."

Cameron looked up towards the doorway. Glenn walked in, sipping a hot chocolate encased in a paper cup. He had changed from his work clothes, into a black leather jacket open over a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. His thick black hair curled against the sides and nape of his neck, his baby blue eyes, like Rebecca's, studying him.

"I am," Cameron yawned, blinking hard. His eyes had dried and become irritable, but he had known that was the consequence of working longer hours during his degree. All of his days seemed to morph together, until he could not determine the beginning or the end. "I wanna be here when she wakes up, though."