Page 15 of Promises in the Dark

He flinched like I’d slapped him, couldn’t even look me in the eye. “Because it is God’s will,” he answered quietly.

I turned away from him, oozing with disgust as I spoke. “Your God failed you.”

The dude shrank into himself like he was trying to disappear. He took a shaky breath, voice barely a whisper when he finally replied, “He did not fail me. To believe in God is to accept His judgment, no matter what.”

I scowled, his pathetic words doing nothing but piss me off more. “Faith is nothing more than blind obedience. Where is the justice in your God allowing you to suffer?” I replied curtly.

“God works in mysterious ways,” he whispered like he was reading from a Hallmark card.

“Or does he simply enjoy watching us suffer?” I said coldly. “What a sick game he must be playing.”

The soldier’s eyes filled with tears, ready to spill over. His voice was shaking like a leaf as he tried to push through.

“Justice is for mortals to seek. My Lord has a plan, and we must have faith in that.”

I stared at him, incredulous. His words were bullshit, and he knew it. “Plans do not involve suffering,” I snapped irritably. “All your faith has done is allowed you to be a passive bystander to your own misfortune.”

My words hung heavy in the air, like a venomous serpent poised to strike.

And I couldn’t be righter.

I shook my head, fed up, turning away from him. But that’s when things went to shit. His body started shaking, his hands flailing like he was having a damn seizure. The heart monitor next to his bed went nuts, blaring like a fucking fire alarm.

Chaos exploded as the staff rushed in, feet clattering on the cold, sterile floor. Alarms, frantic voices, the whole place was a damn madhouse.

I watched him twitching like a puppet on strings, limbs jerking while the doctors tried to pull him back from the brink. It was just more proof of what I’d always known—there’s no merciful god watching over us, no guardian angel coming to save our sorry asses from this hellhole. We’re on our own in this fucked-up world.

“Charge to 200! Clear!” One of the doctors shouted.

Silence fell for a second as they pressed the paddles to his chest, and his body jolted with the shock. For a moment, it arched up, then collapsed back down, limp as a rag doll.

“We’re losing him!” a doctor yelled, his voice cracking with frustration.

They kept working on him, desperate to save his doomed ass. The monitor kept beeping, confirming what I already knew—he was on his way out.

“Time of death... 03:42 P.M.”

The room went dead silent. The medical team let out a collective sigh, defeated. Another pointless battle lost.

After they hauled his lifeless body out, I was alone. Finally. The silence was a fucking relief. I sat up, gritting my teeth as a wave of sharp pain tore through my busted-up body. My mind was racing, trying to figure out my next move. I wasn’t sticking around this shithole any longer than I had to. There were still battles to fight.

And a snitch that needed dealing with.

I gritted my teeth, reaching down to yank out the damn catheter they’d stuck in me. The second I did, pain shot through me like I’d been kicked in the gut with a steel boot. I cursed under my breath, trying not to double over. No painkillers in this shithole, of course—just my luck. Not like it’d kill them to throw a guy a few pills to take the edge off.

Swallowing back another round of curses, I swung my legs over the bed, testing if I could stand. Every muscle screamed in agony as I got to my feet, shaky as fuck, like some drunk asshole. The room was suffocatingly small, with sterile white walls and no sign of life. Just counters lined with shiny medical crap. The smell of disinfectant hit my nose, sharp and nasty, stinging like they’d soaked the whole damn place in bleach.

The room itself was small as hell, closing in on me like some kind of prison. No windows to see the outside world, just a single door that could be my way out. The absence of natural light only made me feel more isolated, disconnected from the reality beyond these walls.

I knew jack shit about this medical camp. They’d brought me in unconscious, so I hadn’t seen a damn thing except sterile walls and a handful of nurses who looked at me like I was more trouble than I was worth. The U.S. Army had a whole network of these med camps scattered around, set up for wounded soldiers like me who’d barely made it through whatever hellhole we’d been dropped into. But these places weren’t under our command’s jurisdiction, at least not fully.

My captain could give orders back at the base, sure, but here? Here, the authority rested with a bunch of doctors and some pencil-pushing general who didn’t give a damn about our chain of command. So technically, I was under their watch until they said otherwise.

I knew that walking out could get me reported in a heartbeat. They’d probably radio it in the second I stepped out of the tent, filing me under “non-compliant” or some bullshit like that. But I’d bet by the time any word reached my captain’s ears, I’d be halfway back to base. Let them file whatever they wanted—I’d deal with it when it came. All I had to go on were the sounds, the whispers, and the occasional peek through half-open doors. Each step I took around this tiny room, my blood pounded so hard, I couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or rage at this point. Either way, the night would be my best cover.

Time to take matters into my own hands.

I glanced at the clock on the wall, my eyes narrowing as I saw the hour hand pointing to 10 P.M. With a grimace of pain, I pushed myself up from the bed, my wounded abdomen screaming in protest. I was pissed off—no spare clothes, no options, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to run butt-ass naked down the hallway like a fucking idiot.

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