The Spine
2012-10-15 11:32:45 UTC
“Jeezus,” Worth gasped, wiping his forehead of sweat. His hands trembled as he reached for tweezers. He turned his head and spit to the side, while he used the tweezers to attempt to remove the bullet embedded in the wounded soldier’s belly. “ya gotta stay alive, god dammit!” he hissed, grunting.
“Worth,” Lamont said in a low voice, “help the other, he ain’t gonna make it.” The brown-haired man put his hand on Worth’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze.
“I need more penicillin!” Worth growled, now wiping a blood-covered hand across the side of his face. A dark red stain formed on his skin, some stray drops falling down his cheek. “God dammit, I can’t help ‘im—can’t help them if I don’t have penicillin...”
“Worth, I’ll go.” Ples stepped forward, pistol visible in his belt. “Let me go ahead to get it, you know I can run and avoid being seen.” The black-haired man, older than his company by no more than three years, gave an outward of confidence and self-assurance; but underneath, he was absolutely terrified. His friends were going to die, and he needed their help.
Worth looked up and hesitated before he sighed and nodded. “Watch yourself, Lamont.”
Ples nodded in response, hurrying out into the night, and Lamont turned to glare at Worth. “Man, he’s just a kid—”
“All of us are kids!” snapped Worth. “Yer just a kid, I’m just a kid!” He was about to continue with his shouting, but the soldier under his hand was not responding well: Shaking violent, seizing despite the care Worth was giving. “God, stay with us, kid...”
Ples sprinted out of the smoke, pausing when he saw the enemy’s medical unit. His fingers clutched the fabric doorway in the back and he pulled it open, entering the small room. The penicillin was in his peripheral vision, and instantly he grabbed some and some additional items. As he turned to leave, his elbow hit a jar and it crashed to the ground, glass shattering. He froze for a moment, then moved for the door at top speed.
Bullets flew by the soldier, screaming past his ear. A bullet tore at his shirt, leaving a large hole with some blood dripping from a cut received - nothing but a scratch. He picked up speed, collapsing against the door when a number of bullets had lodged in his back. Within seconds of his head hitting the door, blood spilling everywhere, he was unconscious.