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Angel 6
by David Wainio |
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Mercy Rose Hospital Complex
Roseville, Tukayyid
24 May 3052
His burns were healing but his leg was still stiff and the damage to his throat still pained him as Terry sat up in his bed for the first time since his arrival in the hospital. He was still weak from multiple surgeries that had sewn up internal organs. Although he was still considered a critical case, the doctors were feeling confident that the worse was over and that Terry would survive.
His mental status had yet to be determined as he had been mostly unconscious and unable to speak when awake. A specialist had been dispatched. But at the moment he was in the care of a medical attendant, the floor nurse, and a “pink-striper” – volunteer helpers nick-named for the pin striped uniforms they wore. The pink-striper was helping him eat some broth while the other two were merely looking on. There were probably better things they could be doing with their time, but most of the floor staff liked to keep tabs on the patient they called “lucky Terry”. They had lost so many wounded from this theatre that the successes like Terry’s case seemed extra important somehow.
“Whrr….mmmy…..frrienss?” he managed to ask the volunteer.
She looked at him in puzzlement for a moment, then deciphered his meaning.
“Your friends? I don’t know really. As I understand you came in alone.”
“Nn…nnn…nnooo,” Terry objected with a firm shake of his head. He wasn’t alone. He’d seen most of his Six in the past few days.
The other two hospital staffers exchanged troubled looks.
“I’m afraid it’s true Terry,” supplied the nurse gently, “you were the only one brought in from where you went done. You’re the only MechWarrior from 12th Division’s First Battalion left that I know of.”
He looked wildly to each side where empty beds sat. It couldn’t be true. Or could it? Maybe Mike and Hector died before S & R got to his downed Hussar. Maybe Storich died and was taken away during the night after helping him find the call button when he was choking. Terry had only lived because of their help. And they had died because he had been too slow; too late. He didn’t deserve to live when they were all gone. He didn’t deserve to be the last one left. He was the newest. The least skilled. The most expendable.
Terry slumped back wearily as all strength left his body. He ignored the hospital people that tried to talk to him, that tried to explain how lucky he was to be alive. It wasn’t lucky at all. How could he face each new day knowing he had let his comrades die waiting for his return.
Later Doctor Paolo came and tried to talk to him about Terry’s feelings but Terry just turned his head away and stared at a dark fleck on the wall. The Doctor knew nothing. It was all just words to make him feel better about himself. His unit was dead. He was not. It just wasn’t right. It was as simple as that. |
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