Page 76 of A Secret and a Lie
This is the night I change my life: it’s mine, and it’s high time I own the fuck out of it.
Ford
My shoulder slams into the window as the Humvee roves over the rough terrain. Drake’s boots brush my elbow from where he stands in the sling footrest designated for the scout. He’s scouting for IEDs, and if I think this ride is rough, he’s surely got to think this is as smooth as standing on a mechanical bull.
We’re halfway through the nearly two hundred eighty-kilometer trip for a supply restock. With only two weeks left here, this should be our last supply run. We even left Michaels and Smith back to hold things down until we got back, since this should be a light trip.
“Stay vigilant,” Hale reiterates from the front as Vesper maneuvers the vehicle. We’ve already had to stop three times for Suarez to check something out that could’ve been a buried explosive.
Hale gave us all a talk before we left on this run about not getting complacent now that the end is in sight. But there’s a cloud hanging over our unit since we lost De Luca, with no sign of that storm moving on. Everyone’s ready to leave this slice of Hell on Earth.
Where there’s always been easy, mindless chatter, there’s only silence now, the rattle of the Humvee the only noise. I rub at the back of my neck, my fingertips coming away damp with sweat.
“Got something forty meters ahead on the right, just off the road,” Drake’s voice booms from the hatch above us. Normally, Vesper and I would dismount and help secure the area, shutting down trafficin both directions, but this stretch of road gets almost zero traffic, so it’s not necessary.
Suarez slips from the Humvee without a word. The hair on the back of my neck crawls as he carefully approaches the shiny metal object. Our dirty windshield distorts my vision a little, but it doesn’t blur things enough that I don’t see the moment he triggers the blast, sending him rocketing into the air.
The force of the blast ripples through the area, jolting the Humvee, and splintering the front windshield, sending shards of glass raining down like confetti. My head slams into the steel plate behind me, my helmet preventing any real damage other than whiplash.
With my mind still hazy, I blink to clear my vision. Glancing around me, the first thing I notice are Drake’s legs, cut up from shattered glass, but relatively uninjured.
Calling out, “Everyone okay?” I wait for a response.
“Good,” he grunts, scrambling down from the lookout hatch, and the snake around my chest uncoils a bit.
As Drake climbs from the vehicle to check on Suarez, I crawl to the front, but my stomach sinks and my throat goes dry as I take in the scene, jumping into action.
Fucking fuck.
A shard of glass is embedded in Vesper’s neck, blood spilling from him like a faucet, and I clamp my hand over the wound, careful not to remove the slice of the windshield. With my other finger, I feel for a pulse, which is faint, but there.
“You’re okay, Vesper. I’m going to get you out of here.”
His eyes are heavy as he meets my gaze. Death looms there, ready to take him, and I swallow hard. “Stay awake, stay with me.”
“Medivac is twenty out,” Drake’s voice crackles through the radio of the Humvee.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Hale, clearly deceased. Blood is splattered across the headrest, telling me that there’s not much to be done.
I don’t know how long I’ve been applying pressure to Vesper’sneck when Drake returns, carrying Suarez. He gently, respectfully, sets him in the back seat before swinging open the front door.
“Goddamnit,” he mutters, and I watch as he feels for a pulse on Hale’s neck and shakes his head. Blood rushes between my ears, and I feel like I’m drowning, being pulled under by the worst day of my life.
“We’ve got company,” Drake exclaims, as the sound of tires crunching over the dirt road filters through the static filling my mind.
Adrenaline shoots through me as I peer through the back seat window, my hands never moving from Vesper’s neck. Sure enough, a small, compact car is approaching the scene.
I meet Drake’s eye as he explains, “I’m going out there.”
I don’t like that one bit, but I nod, nonetheless. I outrank Drake, but I’m not going to pull that shit, even if I don’t have a good feeling about this. It’s entirely possible that the insurgents were watching this unfold from a distance and are coming to clean up what’s left of our unit. However, I trust Drake, and he can handle himself.
So, I simply watch as my best friend stalks toward the car, his rifle perched in his hands. While his posture and demeanor appear calm, I’m certain he’s anything but.
Vesper groans, his throat rattling against my hand. I attempt to split my attention, keeping one eye on Drake and the other on Vesper.
“The medivac is coming. You need to stay awake, okay? You’re supposed to come to my wedding with Internet Girl, remember?” My attempt at levity is lame as shit. His eyes are heavy, and I tap his cheek. “Stay the fuck alive for me.”
Flicking my gaze back out the window, I catch Drake gesturing down the road in the direction we were headed, nodding his head. Without a translator, his conversation could easily be going poorly.
