Dark Mountains (7 page)

Chapter 12

The light was a white heat, seeping into my body, warming my bones. It was white all around me. I was stiff and sore, like I
hadn’t moved in years but I wasn’t trapped and that was something. I could hear voices everywhere now. I’d turn around, frantically trying to find their source but I saw only white.

“Vitals all within normal range Doctor.”

“Pupil response is brisk.”

Where were the voices coming from? Who were they?

“He may need more time. Ms. Michaels, why don’t you try talking to him again?”

Ms. Michaels? Libby was
here? I turned, trying to find her but it was still nothing but white.

“Cole?”

Her voice shook the white expanse around me like an earthquake.

“Try, Cole. Please try to wake up.”

But I am awake! There’s nothing here! Where are you!

“I’m holding your hand, Cole. Can you squeeze my hand?”

I looked down at my hands. They were empty. There is nothing here!

“Squeeze my hand if you can hear me, Cole.”

I’m trying Libby!

“Dr. Heinrich!” Libby was crying. “He squeezed my hand! I felt it!” Dr. Heinrich took her flashlight out and checked his eyes again.

“Pupils responding to light but there’s no movement of the eye.” She stuck the flashlight in her pocket. “Try again, Libby. Ask him to do it again.” She was watching Cole’s hand.

“Cole, honey, you did great! Squeeze my hand again, Cole! I know you can do it, just squeeze my hand!”

Honey? She’s never called me that before. The warmth that filled me then had nothing to do with the bright white surrounding me. The word didn’t sound strange coming from her lips. It felt natural, normal. It felt good. Where are you Libby?

“There, see?” Libby cried beaming up at the doctor. “He squeezed it again!” Dr. Heinrich checked his eyes again.

“Eyes are moving now,” she murmured, scrawling something in Cole’s chart. “I think that’s enough for today though. He’s made tremendous progress though, Libby. We’ll keep him off the anesthesia but mildly sedated so if the pseudo-seizures start up again, he won’t hurt himself.” Libby nodded as she stroked Cole’s hand.

“What Cole just did for you was a big task, Libby. Now he needs to rest. We’ll try some more tomorrow, okay?” Libby nodded again and the doctor left the room. Nurses were in and out the rest of the evening but Libby stayed vigilant by Cole’s side, waiting for him to move again.

***

It was dark again but I noticed right away that I
wasn’t having a nightmare. I could hear a sort of whooshing sound near my ear, steady with the rise and fall of my chest. A quieter beeping sound from a bit further away matched the rhythm of my heart.

My mouth was dry, parched like the desert and I tried to swallow but something was in the way of my mouth. I tried to open my eyes but they were heavy, giant sandbags, keeping my world dark.

I felt pain, so much that I felt like I was being burnt alive and hit by a truck at the same time. My back, which I could tell I was laying on, felt as if it had been whipped. My head was also pounding but no longer foggy.

I tried to open my eyes again. A small gray slit appeared and the thrill of victory gave me more motivation. I blinked and the slit became wider, letting in more light. A few more blinks and they were all the way open. Everything was blurry, as if I was trying to see underwater. I blinked furiously, trying to clear my vision. It felt like I
hadn’t opened my eyes in a long time.

My vision was getting better and the more I blinked the clearer it became. There was a light on the ceiling, set to low. For this, I was thankful; my eyes probably
couldn’t take any bright lights right now. I tried to turn my head to get my bearings but something pulled at my face and the more I moved the more it hurt so I lay still. Instead, I looked with my eyes, as far as I could.

I could see the annoying beeping machine
I’d heard next to the bed beside me. I knew it was a heart rate monitor as I watched the lines jumping up and down with the beeping… a little faster now than it had been a moment ago. The machine I’d heard the whooshing sound from was a ventilator, I’d seen plenty of those in the last few years. I followed the tubes with my eyes as far as I could. I tried to swallow again and felt that my mouth and throat were blocked.

I could hear the heart rate monitor beeping faster as I realized what was going on. The heart rate monitor was mine. The ventilator was keeping me breathing.  I subconsciously tried to swallow again, and knowing I had a ventilator tube all the way down my throat sent panic through me. Normally I would be steadying my breathing but the respirator was doing that for me.

I understood that somehow I was in the hospital. That something had happened to me, serious enough for me to need help breathing. My heart raced on, sending off a minor alarm on the machine. I tried to force my heartbeat to slow, like I’d been trained to, but I needed something to concentrate on.

My eyes wheeled around the room, searching for something to focus on when they landed on a picture on the table next to the bed. It was a photo of Libby and me holding blue bells. The very picture
I’d given her before I left for Iraq. My fingers twitched, my subconscious wanting to reach out for the picture. Something twitched back.

I let my eyes trail down slowly, the soldier in me prepared for some kind of ambush. Chestnut hair pooled on the sheet next to my arm. A delicate hand with chipped pink fingernails lay over my hand.
Libby’s face, lying on the bed near my arm.

My hand twitched again, aching to touch her. Libby moaned a little, the sound making my heart jump. She sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. She glanced at the clock behind her before yawning. I moved my hand again and she jumped out of her chair with a shriek. The sudden movement had my body instinctively reacting. Years of training made the movement involuntary. I went to lunge out of the bed, intending to grab Libby and shield her from danger.

I instantly regretted it. The pain was bewildering. Every part of my body was on fire. I moaned, the sound gurgled by the ventilator. I hadn’t gone far. I realized that my arms and legs were restrained and was actually thankful for that. My unnecessary evasive maneuvers would’ve sent me flying off the bed had they not been holding me in place.

“Cole?” Libby’s voice was like a balm to my burning body. I tried to focus on her face but my eyes had filled with tears.
“Oh God, Cole. I’m so sorry!” She put her hands on my face and leaned above me so I could see her without moving my head. I was struggling to focus and I could feel my body going into a panic when I couldn’t control my own breathing. My body was screaming at me to suck in giant breaths but I could only breathe with the steady rhythm of the machine.

“Cole, look at me,” she commanded as she stroked my cheek. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to force my body to obey. I opened them again and saw that she was crying. I tried to lift my hand to wipe them away but they
were held down by the restraints.

“No, no.” She reached a hand down to hold mine. “Keep still. It’s alright.” I shook my head a little. I
couldn’t panic right now. Every movement dipped me in that lake of fire and I didn’t want to risk losing control again. “Don’t try to talk, honey. You’re on a ventilator. Do you understand?” I tried to nod my head but the pain had me closing my eyes again. “Blink if you understand me.” I opened my eyes and very carefully blinked for her.  She smiled, new tears coming to her eyes.

“You’re in the hospital, near
Ramstein. Do you understand? Blink twice for no.” I blinked once for her again.

Ramstein
was where they sent you were seriously wounded. Minor injuries were treated in the forward operating hospitals near your field base. If you were too injured to serve but well enough to fly, they shipped you stateside to Walter Reed. I resisted trying to wiggle all my toes and fingers. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to know if they were all there or not. Then I wondered absently if I’d even be able to tell.

“Do you remember anything?” She asked me and I blinked twice. She seemed to chew on her lip a little before she spoke, as if she was unsure of how to tell me. I could only pray I
wasn’t missing a leg.

“You were on a mission, by yourself,” she started and I blinked once. I remembered that part. My mission had been to assassinate a murderer. “There was an explosion.” I blinked twice. I
didn’t remember any of this. What explosion? “Cole, you’ve been in a coma for over two weeks.”

Two weeks?
Jesus. What the hell had happened to me? I was blinking furiously now.

“It’s okay.” She was stroking my cheek again. “Your brain got bounced around in that hard head of yours and swelled too much.
There’s a fracture above your left ear. They kept you asleep while the swelling went down.” She leaned down and kissed my cheek. “You broke a few ribs and punctured your spleen. You got lucky… they didn’t have to take it out.” She smiled a bit and continued to touch my face.

“You’ve got some pretty bad burns that are going to need skin grafts…” I blinked furiously at that.
I’d seen soldiers with bad burns. They didn’t even look like men anymore.

“They’re on the back of your neck and upper arms. The doctor said they
wouldn’t scar too badly. You broke your nose.” She chuckled a little and I blinked twice again. “I was just thinking that this little bend in your nose makes you even more handsome than you were before.” I couldn’t blink for a second and then, very carefully, blinked once. “There’s a bit of shrapnel embedded here” I could feel her very carefully touching my cheek. “A plastic surgeon is going to take them out when you’re better.” I looked at her for a moment. I must not look too horrible. I’d be able to tell from her eyes if it was too bad.

“Your leg was pretty banged up,” she murmured and I
would’ve sucked in a breath if I could have.

Was.
I closed my eyes. I had a feeling this would be coming. So many times, I had seen my brothers being carried out of harm’s way with mangled and missing limbs.

“A piece of concrete landed on your right leg and snapped your femur,” Libby continued. “The bone went through your leg and pierced your femoral.”

I didn’t have a leg anymore. I couldn’t fathom it. It still felt like it was there; pain and all.

My mind went back to when
I’d helped the medic in my unit work on a guy that had been shot in the leg. The bullet had hit his femoral. He’d bled out before we could find the artery and clamp it. His name had been Michael. I opened my eyes slowly, tears leaking out of them again.

“It won’t be that bad, Cole,” Libby tried to reassure me. “The rod will have to stay in for life and you ended up getting a bad infection so they had to remove some of the muscle but the doctor said that with physical therapy your leg will learn how to function with less muscle mass. She has no doubt you’ll be up and walking soon.”

I blinked furiously. I still had my leg? My hand tried to reach out to touch it but the restraints held me back. I got angry then. So angry I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to scream and kick but I couldn’t do either. Libby’s voice was the only thing that kept my sanity.

“It’s going to be alright, Cole.” Her voice settled onto me like a warm blanket and I forced my wide eyes to look into hers. Her face could never lie to me and I saw that she was telling the truth. It was going to be okay. I was going to be okay.

“You need to stay still, Cole. You aren’t healed yet, honey, and moving might cause more damage.” I blinked once as she reached down to hold my hand again. I would’ve sighed if I could have. It felt so good to feel her touching me.

“I love you so much, Cole,” she murmured. I blinked once and tried to smile, but the tape around the ventilator pulled at my skin.

I scrunched my eyebrows in frustration. Libby must’ve understood because she reached down and grabbed the bed’s controls. She pushed the nurse’s button and smiled at me.

“It’s about time we got all this stuff off of you, huh?” She winked at me as the nurse came into the room. “Corporal Andrews is awake and would like these restraints removed now.” I tried to smile again, even though it was pointless to try. The tape pulled at my face again but I kept smiling. I had one hell of a woman.

Chapter 13

“All I remember was being assigned the covert op. I don’t even remember leaving for it.” I was sitting up in bed, slurping down the red Jell-O Libby was feeding me. It tasted horrible but it was better than
nothing, so I didn’t complain. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call before it… didn’t mean to scare you.”

It had been two weeks since
I’d woken up. The new skin on my arms and neck were healing nicely, though I now had to wear a tight neoprene vest and sleeves. I tried to talk in small sentences, only having to use small breaths. It hurt to breathe deeply and it would take at least another three months for my ribs to completely heal.

“Cole,” she scolded. “I understood. You’re a soldier and we’re at war.” She smiled and set the Jell-O down. “I was a little upset that no one notified me for a week after you were hurt though. It took a while to understand that they
didn’t find you for two days after it happened. And the DNA identification took a few more but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that you’d been alone for a week.”

“Bet you got here fast when they called,” I murmured. I knew better than to try and chuckle, though I wanted to.

“Well sure. I threw all my clothes back into my suitcase and jumped on a plane. Good thing I was already in Chicago. They have non-stop flights. It would’ve taken forever to get here from home.” She sighed, carefully sitting down next to me. “I didn’t even open my suitcase until I’d been here almost a week.” She wrinkled her nose and I smiled. I knew Libby.

“What did you forget?” I knew it was something. She shook her head, refusing to admit but then sighed. She knew
I’d bug her until she told me.

“Underwear.”
She said the word as if she hated it. I chuckled, but instantly regretted it. “A whole suitcase of clothes and no damn underwear. I had a nurse pick some up for me but they were the wrong size. European sizes are different than American ones and not properly labeled.” She complained. I tried not to imagine her squeezing into a pair of tight underwear. As much as I wanted to, my body hurt too much to want to react.

“How’s it going with the station, with you being over here so long?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Oh I worked that one out just fine. I found a cameraman living here on base and hired him. I’ve been doing special reports on injured soldiers and the effects on their loved ones. I got some really great stuff. A few of the stories even got picked up by the major Louisville affiliate.”

“Really?”

“My producer called yesterday. There’s now a trailer outside the studio to collect supplies for troops and their families. It’s only been there a week and it’s nearly full. I found a support group that will be making sure the supplies get where they’re needed. I just couldn’t believe it Cole. All those supplies donated, just in our area. It’s a small town and most of it is poor but they gave regardless.”

“They’re good people,” I murmured. She smiled and nodded.

“Anyway, so my producer wouldn’t mind, even if I wasn’t cranking out stories still. He told me to take as much time as I needed.”

“Is he a vet?” I asked softly. Libby nodded.

“Korea,” she murmured. “I suppose he understands more than most, huh?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “I’m starting to see why.”

After two more skin grafts and another surgery to remove shrapnel from my face, I was finally able to start physical therapy. I had to use a walker to take just a few steps before the pain in my leg had me crying out. The nurses assured me that with time it would become easier and easier.

When it was time to remove the bandages from my face, I had hesitated. Libby held my hand and assured me that what lay underneath the gauze
wouldn’t matter. The doctor carefully peeled it away and gave me a reassuring smile before handing me a mirror.

Very slowly, I raised it up and looked at my face. The ugly, thick scarring was gone. There were still a few lines but they were very faint.

A few days later, we were on a plane heading for D.C. I was being transferred to Walter Reed for physical therapy. I still couldn’t walk more than a few steps so I would be staying at the rehab center. Libby had assured me that she would stay with me and help me get around the house but I had refused. I also knew if I stayed at the hospital, I could stay fully focused on my therapy. I also wanted to be more than capable of keeping Libby safe once we got home.

I’d
started regaining my memories about the explosion and had started having recurring nightmares. The wall of fire rushing towards me with Jackson’s face in outlined within it. The flames swallowing me whole while he laughed. I knew he hadn’t really been there…that he’d had nothing to do with the snake I’d seen. I knew, through my therapy sessions that all soldiers were required to go to when injured, that it was just my subconscious, bringing up the things I feared the most in that adrenaline filled moment. Jackson Michaels hadn’t really been in Iraq but I knew, deep down, that we hadn’t seen the last o

We landed in D.C. and when the cargo door lowered, I could see my parents and sister waiting for me on the tarmac. I nodded at Libby, and though she frowned at my decision, she handed me my walking cane and reached under my arm to help me stand. She had protested when I told her I wanted to walk off the plane but I had stubbornly refused

I hadn’t seen my parents yet. The Corp couldn’t afford to send entire families around the world to their injured soldiers and my parents couldn’t afford the trip. Libby had made sure to update them hourly while I was unconscious. After I woke up, I called them every day. My pride had me wanting to look strong for my dad and I didn’t want to appear as injured as I actually was for the sake of Momma and Emma Lou. I leaned heavily on my cane and held onto Libby’s arm with my other hand. Very slowly, nearly stumbling a few times, I made my way down the ramp.

Momma was crying as Emma Lou held her hand. I locked my eyes with my dad, seeing he was fighting back tears. Once I made it down the ramp, he let out a breath and rushed up to me, wrapping me in a bear hug. My breath hissed as he squeezed and I let go of my cane to hug him back. I could feel his shoulders shaking.
I’d never seen my dad cry. I didn’t say anything and he took a big breath before pulling away from me. Ignoring my cane on the ground, he leaned under my other arm, allowing me to put my weight on his shoulder. Libby still had my other arm and between the two of them, I made it to the rest of my family.

Momma wrapped her arms around my middle as she wept. Libby squeezed my hand before letting go so I could hug her back.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again, Colton Timothy Andrews!” She blurted between sobs.

“I won’t Momma,” I whispered back, feeling strange to be the one comforting her. “I promise.” Mom
ma finally got her crying under control and stepped back. I was leaning heavily on my dad’s arm now. My leg was burning from standing so long.

“You look like crap.” My sister’s voice had changed since
I’d seen her last. I looked over at her and smiled. She had definitely grown up while I’d been gone. She’d been off at college on my last leave so I hadn’t actually seen her in a few years. We emailed and called often enough but it hadn’t prepared me for who I was seeing. She’d filled out, evening the proportions of her tall frame and grown her hair out. She’d also gotten rid of the glasses she’d worn since first grade. My gangly, little sister had become a woman. So now, I had another woman to worry about men chasing after. I ground my teeth before relaxing.

“And you aren’t such a chicken-legged little brat anymore,” I retorted. She smiled then and there was the little sister
I’d left behind. Her dimples were still there, as was the slight gap between her front teeth.

“I’m glad your home, Cole,” she whispered as she hugged me.

“Me too, sis.”

“Well, son,” Dad coughed, trying to force the tears away. “We ought to get you over to the rehab center and settled in.” Dad had never been one for emotional moments.  He grabbed the wheelchair that Libby had brought over while I
hadn’t been looking. I really didn’t want to sit in it but my leg was really on fire now.

“Now Cole, you’ve done enough work for one day,” Dad chided, gesturing for me to sit. I
didn’t argue. I knew he was trying to give me what I needed but was too prideful to admit. “You just sit on back and let your old man take care of you.”  I nodded, grinning a little. Pride be dammed. You never said no to your dad.

I all but fell in to the wheelchair, sighing when the pain lessened. Libby smiled and patted my shoulder as my dad pushed me away from the plane to the waiting bus. I tried not to let my embarrassment show as the handicap ramp lowered. Running the controls in the bus was a marine wearing full military dress. As the ramp lifted, he saluted me and I saw that his hand was completely prosthetic. Feeling my embarrassment melt away, I saluted back.

“Welcome home, sir,” he whispered and I felt my smile return.

“Thank you, Private,” I answered and released my salute. “At ease, soldier.” He relaxed with a smile and turned to sit behind the wheel. It was a short drive from the airfield to the rehab center.

Momma and Emma Lou spent most of it catching me up on the goings-on I had missed in the past few years. Emma Lou was more than happy to update me on her many boyfriends that she’d deemed unworthy while my parents cringed. Libby tried to fight back a laugh as Emma Lou went on and on. It was a little overwhelming hearing that my baby sister had dated so many people and not been serious about a single one.

Dad tried to change the subject a few times by bringing up how work was going at the mine but Emma Lou was
on a roll and didn’t let him get a word in edge-wise. I was relieved when the bus pulled into the rehab center, effectively ending Emma Lou’s love-life report. After a 15-minute drive, my head was now pounding, matching the throbbing in my leg. Dad must have figured out I was uncomfortable. He managed to talk Momma and Emma Lou into heading back to the hotel.

“Let the boy get settled, Sheri,” he chided her.
“Been on a damn plane for 12 hours already.”  I hugged everyone again, wincing when they touched tender spots on my neck and arm. Libby wheeled me down the hallway to the room that would be my home for the next few months.

The sparse furnishings and bare walls reminded me of a college dorm room before the students moved in. There was a small kitchenette with lower than normal cabinets and countertops.
The perfect height to reach from a wheelchair. The unmade bed also had a hoist and pull-bar attached to the ceiling above. Everything about the room screamed disability but also gave the impression of perseverance. For those of us that had to stay here, life would never be the same. But life would go on. The changes to the apartment proved that our injuries could be coped with, that our wounds wouldn’t prevent us from living.

Libby left me sitting just inside the doorway as she went to fetch my bags from the hallway. She shut the door behind her and came up behind me, laying her hand on one of the few uninjured parts on my shoulder.

“Will you stay tonight?” I whispered, suddenly feeling quite small.

“Of course, Cole.”
She came around to the front of the wheelchair and knelt beside me. “You don’t have to do this alone. I can stay here as long as you like.” I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. I wanted her here, beside me every day, but I knew getting stronger was something I had to conquer myself. Yet this first night, when everything was so new and so different, I needed her here.

“I don’t want you to think that we have to…” I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence. We had never talked about
our relationship and what it meant. The last real kiss we’d shared was at the house before my deployment. Not that I could do much more than that in this condition anyway. “I can sleep on the couch.” I finally finished and blushed when she chuckled.

“Cole,” she lifted my hand and brushed her lips across my knuckles. “We’ll have plenty of time to figure out what we have together. I know what you mean.” She stood and held her hands out to help me out of the chair. “You are my best friend and I love you. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that…” she smiled as I stood.
“For now.” She chuckled again when I blushed deeper. “You’ll sleep in the bed and I will sleep on the couch. You don’t have to be alone tonight.”

“Thanks, Libby.” She smiled again, bringing a walker over for me to use.

“Why don’t you go freshen up?” She nodded towards the bathroom. “I’ll run down to the nurses’ desk and get your therapy schedule for tomorrow. I’ll be back in a jif so just holler at me if you need help, ok?” I nodded and Libby gave me a quick kiss before heading out the door.

I slowly made my way to the bathroom and sighed in relief when I saw that it was set-up perfectly for me. There were bars and chairs everywhere.
Lowered sinks and an easy access shower. So far, I’d only been allowed sponge baths. Not being an invalid, I found this thoroughly degrading to have to rely on someone sponging me down to stay clean. I unconsciously scratched at the neoprene on my chest. The doctor had said in another few days my skin grafts and other injuries would be healed enough for a regular shower. Another week or so and I’d be allowed to use the pool for therapy. I nearly shivered at the thought. After 4 years in the desert, the thought of spending hours in a pool seemed like heaven.