Small story 9

”Aw, shit.”

He was looking down at Buckley, who was on his knees in the tall grass. There was an unconscious figure lying before him, bleeding from the gut. Sergeant Sean Roth didn’t want to realize it at first, but the injured figure was Sergeant Major Richard Jameson. “Sarge”.

His vest had been removed, and Buckley’s hands were all bloody from trying to stop the bleeding. His first aid kit lay scattered around them. Roth took a moment to think. He wasn’t entirely sure what to think of, though. His situation was inexplicable, utterly alien, and completely surreal. He felt like how you feel when you’re searching for your sunglasses, and you look absolutely everywhere: under pillows, in the pockets of all your jackets, the bathroom, underneath the furniture, and you even start considering checking inside the fridge, except actually doing so would pretty much prove you’re crazy, so you convince yourself not to.

And you start to think you’re never going to see those sunglasses ever again, you probably lost them outside somewhere, or the dog buried them in the garden, and it’s such a shame, because those were really cool sunglasses. And then you pass the mirror in the hallway, and realise you’re wearing them. That feeling before the relief sets in, before you think to yourself how stupid you are – that split second of confusion, as your perception of reality is questioned – “Is that my sunglasses on my head?” He felt like that. Except a thousand times stronger.

 

Luckily he was snapped out of it by someone coming towards them, because a man was dying at his feet, and something had to happen. The man jogging towards them was Specialist Charlie Gunn. He must’ve just gotten up from out of the grass, because they hadn’t seen him when looking for Buckley.

“Guys, what the hell?” was his first remark.

The others couldn’t respond with much other than a confirming look – that was exactly what they were thinking. Then Charlie noticed Sarge lying on the ground, and Buckley frantically working to stop the bleeding. He was opening his canteen to pour some water on the wound to clean it up.

“Easy on the water,” said Team Leader Roth, “we don’t know where we are, we may have to conserve it.”

Buckley would have protested – he was trying to save a life – but he couldn’t. They were in a jungle, but they really, really shouldn’t be. And it was a sensible thing to do. Instead he simply nodded before continuing what he was doing, trying to use as little water as possible.

Trent Colburn, Corporal, looked to his leader and asked, “Perimeter?”

Roth nodded. “We’ll get Sarge fixed up and then we’ll find a way out of here.”

Cpl. Colburn and Spc. Gunn went opposite ways to keep an eye out for something or someone. They weren’t entirely sure.