War Dog

Chapter 41

I'd forgotten just how much of a slog this entire camp was. Funny what time and distance could do for the memory. After all, I'd been through significantly worse in the line of duty since I'd been here. I watched the recruits stumble past the finishing line, the first of the batch. They'd been out since before the crack of dawn. Some dropped the jerry cans they were holding, water sloshing over the sides, careless. I took note of those who refrained from letting go of their jerry cans, keeping the precious contents safe. Those who left their cans unattended I knocked over, the water spilling to the dry earth. Dull eyes stared at me blankly, those still holding their cans held on tighter as understanding blossomed slowly through the exhausted cohort.

Fingers scrabbled to pick up the cans before all the water drained out, but it was already far too late. They'd be penalised for not having full jerrycans at the end of the forced march. Groans of frustration reached my ears and they picked up their cans, guarding the precious resource from any others like myself who'd happily remind them to be careful. 

The hours slowly trickled by and finally we'll and truly after dusk the last recruit stepped over the finish line. He'd be disqualified. Far too late. A typical washout at this stage in the game. The training had barely even begun, there was no way he'd make it another three days. I shook my head, disgusted once again at the quality of the recruits this year. I'd been at each of the water stations along the way, keeping pace with those at the front of the march, moving along ahead of them in the Jeep, checking resources and ensuring no one died in the process. Those in the lead had made acceptable times. Those in the middle of the pack were mediocre at best, and those at the back. Well had a long way to go to prove their abilities. Who knows, they might surprise me. 

I made my way back towards the tents that had been erected out in the field pulling out my phone to check for reception, my thoughts wondering back to Wolf. My footsteps faltered as I saw a notification come through. A voice mail from Johnny. Without hesitation, I press play and put my phone to my ear already knowing the news was bad. Johnny's voice was the shakiness I'd ever heard. I listened between the words Johnny was saying. Wolf had died. Anger bubbled up through my blood. Hands clenched and I heard a crack. My phone. I throw it into my pocket uncaring. I pull out the keys to the Jeep I'd been using all day and slip into the driver's side. A few concerned looks are thrown my way, and a couple of the masked men step towards me to find our way I'm doing. Before they have time to approach, I throw the car into reverse and take off, sliding along the dirt and gravel road spraying dirt and rocks behind me.

The base is only an hours drive from where the forced march took place. I manage the drive in half an hour. I slam the Jeep into park and race through the halls to the medbay. Soldiers stepping out of my way as I snarl at them. Those who are too slow get thrown bodily out of the way as I body slam into them. The doors to the medbay open with a crack as they slam against the walls. The administration nurse takes one look at me and utters a room number. I stalk through the medbay until I find Wolfs room. I take a moment to compose myself, taking a deep breath and enter the room less like a psychopath on a War path, and more like a very aggressively angry SAS soldier. I see Soap startle by the bedside. I take cursory note of his messy hair, and the puffy red rimmed eyes highlighted by deep black bags. I otherwise ignore him and step to Wolfs bed, her unconscious form in the white sheets looking small and fragile.

She is thinner than she was four days ago. Her fur is a matted mess, her hair tangled and knotted. I can see the patches on her chest where she'd been shaved for the nodes. Her eyes seem sunken in. and I'm sure if I could see past the fur, her eyes would have bags to rival Soaps. Her chest barely rose, even with the oxygen mask on. I slipped a glove off, resting my fingers against her carotid artery. Her pulse was surprisingly strong. 

"She's alive, Ghost," Soap declares unnecessarily. 

"I can see that. Tell me."

"She was doing alright up until they forced too much electricity through her. I'd just been in the middle of forcing a stop when her heart gave out completely."