Page 69 of Promises in the Dark

I fumbled for my boots, jamming my feet into them with all the grace of a newborn deer on meth. All I could think about was finding Red. Yeah, we had a huge fucking argument that made us both want to rip each other’s heads off, but right now, that shit didn’t matter. I needed to find her, and I needed to find her fast. I bolted out of my quarters like a bat out of hell, shoes still untied, tripping over my own feet.

Desperation was my middle name at this point.

I stumbled outside, half-blinded by the smoke and chaos, and soldiers were running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads chopped off. It was like a war zone, but instead of bullets and bombs, it was an explosion that had set the whole place ablaze. I could feel the heat radiating off the flames, and it felt like someone was branding my skin with an iron.

I scoured the area, tripping over debris and almost getting my ass kicked by falling beams. My heart was pounding so loud in my ears, I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts. Thesmoke was getting thicker, and my eyes were stinging like a bitch as I pushed through the crowd.

Finally, I caught a glimpse of her by a pile of rubble, trying to stop Viper’s bleeding from his nasty gash with her bare hands. She looked like she was about to cry, her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale with shock.

I rushed over to her side like a madman and knelt down next to Viper.

“What the actual fuck happened here?!” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t need her to see how worried I was.

Red was doing her best to stanch the blood flow, but it didn’t look good. Viper looked up at me, grimacing obviously in agony.

“Unexploded projectile that went off. I thought I had checked the area, but apparently not well enough.”

I didn’t know whether to be pissed off or just disgusted. This was supposed to be a safe zone, but clearly it wasn’t.

Red’s eyes pleaded with me. “We need to get him to med bay. Now,” she emphasized.

I glanced down at Viper, sizing up just how messed up he was. “Can you walk?” I asked, grabbing his arm and trying to gauge whether he could even stand, let alone make it to the med bay.

He nodded, biting back a groan as he pushed himself up. “Yeah, I’ll manage.”

With a grunt, I threw his arm over my shoulder, gripping his waist with the other. The bastard was heavy as hell, and my back was screaming at me as I took most of his weight, Red grabbing his other arm. We got him on his feet, though every step had him wincing in pain.

“How the hell did this happen, man? You’re supposed to be the fucking explosives expert,” I said, as we half-carried, half-dragged Viper towards the med bay.

He forced a laugh, even though it sounded more like a cough. “Fuck, man, I was just careless. I didn’t think it would blow like that.”

“We’re supposed to be professionals,” I snarled, my grip tightening on his arm.

Red shot me a look, basically telling me to shut the fuck up. I bit my tongue and focused on dragging his sorry ass to safety. Arguing wasn’t going to do us any good right now.

The med bay wasn’t far, but it felt like miles. Every step was a struggle, Viper nearly passing out on us a few times, but he kept going.

“Almost there,” Red said, trying to keep his spirits up.

He nodded, squeezing out a smile. “I can make it,” he gritted out, his gaze flickering to the sky.

We managed to make it to the med bay, dropping Viper onto one of the gurneys. I knew this place well enough—it was my home away from home for months now and truth to be told, it looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

Rows of hospital beds, each with some sort of fancy medical shit hooked up to them. Monitors beeping, tubes everywhere, and the smell of antiseptic was so strong it was making me gag.

The place was packed with wounded soldiers, nurses rushing around like they were on a mission from God, and doctors trying to save lives. It was fucking chaos, but it was a controlled one, and I’ve never been more grateful for it.

Viper groaned, clutching his side, blood still pouring from the wound. He was a tough bastard, but even he wasn’t invincible.

“Thanks, guys,” he whispered, before his eyes fluttered closed.

I rolled my eyes, giving him a sarcastic thumbs-up. “No problem, dickhead. Just doing what I can to keep your sorry ass alive.”

A bunch of doctors or nurses—who gives a shit—rushed over, all in white coats, looking at us like we were the walking dead. One of them piped up, “What the hell happened to him?”

I shot him a look that would kill, my eyes practically burning into his face.

“Does it matter right now? Get him fixed up and patched up,” I shout at the top of my lungs, barely able to catch my breath.

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