Artificial Horizon - A César Fernando Basa x Reader story

XLII - Spoiler

A hinged surface on the upper wing which, when opened, decreases lift and increases drag. Spoilers are sometimes called 'speed brakes'. They are used during the descent prior to landing and immediately after landing to decrease lift and increase braking effect.

* * *

After brushing away our tears, we decide to return back to where the others are to grab some quick lunch. However, before we can even do so, the alarm suddenly goes off; at the same time that the bombs, once again, starts falling on Zablan. César had been quick to keep a close hold of me, pushing me against the shaking ground as he uses his body as shield overhead me. The bombs go off in succession this time, clearly with every intention possible, to wipe the entire airfield clean.

It had been quite a struggle to somehow get a bearing when the entire airfield is once surrounded in dire help and chaos. When the bombs somehow subside, César pulls me up and before we know it, both of us are running to where we'll definitely be needed. However, by the time that we make it to where the planes from earlier had been parked, a few of it is now being swallowed by fire and those who've been fast enough manage to take-off.

In the end, César becomes part of those airmen whose wings had been chipped off without any plane to be used. Instead, like majority of the others present in the field, as some sort of unwritten code, he switches on to what Florencio and the others of the Sixth Pursuit Squadron had been doing—helping with the rescuing those who are alive and administering first aids if able.

As for me, I hurry back to make use of my years of training as a military nurse... and my newfound job of ensuring that the dying has someone right next to them as they take their last breaths.

* * *

I don't know how many whose hands I've held as I watch life fade away from their eyes, and I almost lost count of the wounded that I manage to help with what I am capable of giving. That even by the end of those raining bombs by the afternoon, too many are still being brought in, and other still standing establishment are converted into makeshift hospital wards were then categorized by what degree of immediate attention are needed to each one.

I almost lost track of time that when the chaos somehow subsides, I am still tending to the injured soldiers for whatever they'll be needing, which are usually the delivery of food and water, and additional comfort of pillows and blankets to what can be salvaged from the airfield itself. There aren't much for everyone, despite the news that there had been an amassed of donations from volunteers; and the general public who've dared to be an additional hand in tending to the wounded.

"(Y/N)," César calls for me, about the same time that I manage to take a quick peek at the opened windows that now show a pitch-black darkness outside. This time, as he draws closer to where I am, he had definitely washed his hands and arms already as he keeps his flight suit's sleeves folded until his elbows. He is holding on to his cloth helmet, goggles, white scarf and leather jacket, and aside from those, his flight suit is also battered in blood; that if he isn't here standing right now in front of me, I'll even consider that it is his.

"It's this late, isn't it?" I ask him before tucking the blanket properly on to one of the injured I am tending by now.

"Yes," he answers. And after allowing me to bid goodbye and telling the soldier to rest for tonight, the two of us head out of the remaining barracks before heading off somewhere where we can take some soup and water for dinner.

Seeing such a less ration, my stomach growls in hunger. Only by now did I realize that aside from a few portions of water to keep myself hydrated and moving throughout the day, I am yet to have any proper meal at all.