Chapter 143
“You’re going to have to stay back, soldier.” The paramedics had told Mist at least twenty times that she had to keep her distance, but it hadn’t registered the first nineteen times, and it didn’t this time either. Blinded by her tears, she stood at the foot of the cot that Walt was lying on, watching the medical staff do everything they could do to stop the bleeding.
It was too late. The words kept playing over and over in her head. “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, not for the first time. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t he have listened to Rain? She was a medical student--a good one at that! He could’ve stayed behind after they escorted the women out. He could’ve gotten help before he fell over.
He’d lost so much blood.
She’d had no idea just how badly he was bleeding until he’d collapsed on the ground out on the other side of the woods. If Adam hadn’t come along just then and carried him back, he would’ve died out there.
Now, he was going to die in here. Did it make any difference?
The idea that this wasn’t fair popped into her mind over and over again. The phrase burned its way into her lungs and filled her up like oxygen.
This wasn’t fair.
Why Walt?
Why her?
He was a good man! He’d come all the way back here to fight a battle he could’ve walked away from, and no one would’ve blamed him for it.
The idea that she was going to lose him, that they’d never be together again, was too much for her to take.
“Mist, you’re going to have to stay out of the way.” The medic stood right in front of her this time, bending his knees so that his face was in hers.
She looked into his brown eyes and said, “You can’t save him, can you? It’s too late.”
The medic, whose name tag said, “Rogers,” opened his mouth, took a deep breath, and then put his hands on her shoulders. “We are doing everything we can. We are bringing in some blood for a transfusion right now. The femoral artery was severed. While the healing wand did some good in closing off the smaller vessels, it didn’t completely repair that one. The fact that he was running with that sort of damage just kept pumping more and more blood out through the incision.”
Mist’s tears increased as she considered what Rogers was telling her. “Is he awake?”
“No,” he said. “He’s not conscious right now. I don’t… I don’t know if he could hear you or not.”
She took a deep breath. “I need to tell him something. Please?”
Rogers stared at her for a moment and then nodded. He kept his hands on her as he escorted her around the other two medics that were working on Walt. One was stitching up the hole in his leg. The other was starting a line to give him blood.
His face was as white as the snow they’d seen together in Quebec not that long ago. His lips were blue. When she reached out and touched his hand, it was cold and beginning to stiffen.
They were trying to save a dead man.
They were trying for her.
The reality of what was happening was still on the periphery of her mind as she looked at his face and thought about how he’d never hold her again.
It isn’t fair.
He’s a good man.
“Walt, I don’t know if you can hear me, but it’s Mist,” she said, holding his hand. “I just… I want you to know… that I love you. That you’ll always be with me. No matter what.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek, the cold from his skin seeping into her lips and robbing them of their warmth.
She looked at Rogers and the other two medics. They weren’t moving anymore. They were just standing there, looking at her, with tears in their eyes.
Mist’s eyes went to the watch around her wrist. “Time of death, sixteen twenty-seven.”
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
