Chapter Fourteen

Katy

I can’t sleep.

Each time I close my eyes, I see her face and not the flawless beauty that was my best friend. No. I see purple lips and bulging, empty eyes. Blood. I see blood pouring from her neck, where it used to sit on the mutilated body oozing a few feet behind. I blink, and I blink again, begging my imagination to muster another image, anything other than Mullins. My hope is to wash it away with memories of who she was, but all I see is her death. I open them, and even in the darkness, I can see the ground still saturated with her blood. There’s no escaping it.

“Scottie?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t sleep?”

“No.” I hear the shake in my voice and scold myself.

Soldier up, Katy.

“Tell me about her.”

“Get some sleep, Briggs.”

“Tell me,” he urges across the space that now seems but a breath away.

“Now’s not the time, Sergeant.”

“It’s the perfect time,” he insists. “Tell me.”

The fire consuming the Humvees flashes through my mind.

“I’m not the only one who lost a friend.”

He ignores my attempt to deter him. “She was Latino, right?”

“Please, stop.”

“I liked her. At least she could take a joke.”

I glare at him.

“Wow, Scottie, that hurts. Even in the dark. Think you could use those laser beams to get us the fuck out of here?”

“Drop it.”

A beat of silence. “It’s easier, okay? If you talk about her, it’s easier to picture something else. Give it a try.”

“She taught me how to dance.” I don’t know where it comes from, but it falls so easily from my lips. “We met at boot camp, and when the days were the worst, she wouldn’t let me slip into my head. Instead, she made them a little more grueling with her demands.” A smile I didn’t know I had the strength for crosses my lips. “While we were supposed to be scrubbing the john and floors with toothbrushes, she taught me how to Tejano dance. Cumbia was my favorite. I loved it.”

“Cumbia?”

“It was simple but so sexy.”

“I’m listening,” he whispers low.

Memories of us dancing after lights out surface as pressure builds behind my eyes. “She was one of those people that just had that spark…you know? A zest for life—and she lived every minute. I feel like my life got a kick-start when we met.”

“How so?”

“I fed off her confidence a little, I guess. She was just so sure of everything, especially herself. I envied that a little.”

“No offense to her memory, Scottie, but you seem pretty fucking confident.”

“I credit some of that to her. I don’t know how to do this without her. I know I shouldn’t admit it, but she’s always been there. From the beginning.”

“You are doing it.”

“I feel like they just took half of me away.”

“You’re still here. You’re still whole. You’re still a soldier.”

I sit quiet.

“Say it,” he whispers. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t feel like a soldier. When we were captured, I didn’t even fire off a single round, because I couldn’t bring myself to reach for my gun. All of my training in those minutes went to shit. What kind of soldier could I be?”

“It’s because you jumped into action as a medic. That’s what you do. That’s who you are.”

“I’m supposed to be both. If I had just—”

“Nothing, there was nothing you could have done, getting one round off wouldn’t have made a difference. We were ambushed. They’d been planning this. Our guys’ll find the Humvees en route and know we’re missing. They’re probably already looking for us. They’ll find us, and you’ll dance again.”

I shake my head, unable to imagine a time when I will ever be carefree enough to dance again, as his voice breaks through.

“Yep, we’re doing it, we’re making plans, right now.”

Swallowing, I nod. “Okay, Briggs, what are yours?”

“Right now, they consist of an hour-long shower and a medium rare steak.”

“Bloody, huh?”

“Yep,” he drawls. “Knock its horns off, clean its ass, and plate it up.”

“Texan to the end,” I say with a sigh.

“It sounds like a setup for a joke, doesn’t it?” he asks with a pain-filled exhale. “Three Texans get captured in Iraq…”

“With no punch line.”

I can feel the hurt in his voice. “Not this time.”