Squad 546

The bullet had pierced through the supposedly “bullet-proof” vest. She looked at me in horror as she hit the ground. Before I could even move, she was lying in a pool of her own blood. Blood had stained her blue shirt where the bullet had pierced the vest. Blood was dripping down her shoulder, and down her arm. She was dead, I was sure of it. All I could do was watch. Fighting every impulse to scream out, lash out, and cry out. The tears burned in the back of my eyes.

She was gone. That was it. A bullet whizzed past my face, and I could hear it hissing through the air as it just missed my ear. I barely flinched. Another one came flying down the hallway, creating a huge cracking sound as it hit the door frame right behind me.

Voices called out from somewhere behind me. “We have to go!” They were like echoes in my mind; so real, so close, but so distant. They weren’t even worth responding to.

I felt my knees start to give, and my hands started to shake. I wanted to hold her, to trace my fingers through her beautiful brown hair as I’d done a thousand times over, and to look into her big amber eyes. They looked more gray now, as she laid unmoving on the ground.

I dropped down beside her, feeling her blood soak into my clothing. My hands caught me as they pushed the ground away, and my fingers were painted a dark red. It felt like falling into a puddle, and I wanted to imagine that it was only water surrounding her. I wanted to forget every moment that had just passed, and imagine being somewhere else. I needed to believe that this was just a drill. It wasn’t. This was real.

The bullets had faded into the background now. The shouts had left me in silence. “Stay with me…I can’t do this without you. If you have to go, take me with you.” I pleaded, hoping she could still hear me.

I was startled suddenly as hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me to my feet. Somebody put my arm over their shoulder, and their own arm around my waist. We ran as I stumbled forward, my vision blurring as the tears swelled in my eyes. He was taller than me, with short black hair and camo gear that hid the bullet proof vest underneath.

We ran to a jet. Their jet. The engines had been fired up already, and I could see another man in the distance, wearing what looked like camo gear. He was shouting for us to hurry. More bullets flew by, but we didn’t stop to see from where. The other man had drawn his gun and was firing back over our heads. The sound of each shot echoed in my ears.

As soon as we got close enough, the man running with me dropped my arm and before I knew it, I was lifted up into the air and was being hoisted into the jet. I was moving on autopilot. Thinking on autopilot. Just the way I had been trained to do.

We took off, leaving behind the bullets, the blood, and her body. I looked out the small window beside me just as the building blew up into a ball of fire. We could feel the turbulence hit the jet, rocking us back and forth. Smoke rose from the building, and I could see the flicker of flames start to form in the destruction.

I didn’t know the people on the jet. They were all strangers to me. Strangers who had saved my life. They couldn’t save hers. I couldn’t save hers either. She was right there. Why didn’t I apply pressure to the wound? Why didn’t I try to move her to safety? So many “whys” and now the ache of regret. I watched her leave me. I watched her eyes go blank. I watched her face change to a pale white, and yet I did nothing.

“There was nothing you could have done.” The black haired guy who had come back to get me sat on a small chair on the other side of the jet. His face was burned, probably from a grenade, and he wore an eyepatch. I remember a soldier Dom treated, who was caught in a grenade explosion. Dom had to stitch up the socket, which is why the soldier wore an eyepatch. Squad 342. This man was that soldier. He was watching me now.

“I should have at least tried.” I managed to say, choking on my own words as the tears started to roll down my cheek.

Don’t ever cry when you’re on the job. I heard my commander's voice in my mind, sharp and cold. It lets the enemy know you are weak. The enemy can never know your emotions.

But these people aren’t the enemies. They are just like me, here to do a job. They may not wear the same colors on their badges but they are just like me. None of that mattered now, she was gone and I was here. I had been repeatedly told that working in my industry required you to be emotionless. Emotions get in the way. Emotions stop you from doing what is expected. You have to think fast, act fast, or you die.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, suddenly realizing my hands were still soaked with red. This was all I had left of her. “Here.” The black haired man now stood opposite of me with a silent expression, and handed me a small napkin. I took it from him without saying anything and started to move the tissue between my fingers but couldn’t yet wipe my hands.

There was only one female officer on the jet, aside from me, and she was the pilot. I had caught glimpses of her face and heard snippets of her voice as she gave orders to what must have been the co-pilot. This was squad 342; their squad number was laced into their camo shirts. These guys saw most of the action, which is why they were authorized to use guns when we weren’t. Had I been carrying a gun, she wouldn’t have died. I could have taken out a few of the enemy soldiers, The Green Shield.

I thought about my squad. Dom had died in an explosion a couple months back. We weren’t supposed to be there. Or at least, they weren’t supposed to come to us. The Green Shield, that is. Ships had flown in above us while we were treating wounded soldiers, and bombs got dropped in the middle of the camp. Dom was caught in the middle, while the rest of us were lucky to make it out with minimum injuries. He had been our surgeon, performing whatever small operations needed to be, and could be done, with our limited supplies.

Hal had died two weeks ago, when a spy snuck into our camp. It was supposed to be secure. We were never supposed to see combat, or war. Other jets bring in the wounded, we treat them, they leave, and that’s that. It didn’t work that way. A spy came in with one of the jets, and took out Hal while he was doing CPR on a crashing soldier. He was always with those kinds of patients; he tried to save everyone. Even when it was rare that they’d survive.

The spy didn’t survive long. Unfortunately for him, one of our own Squad’s had just brought in another group of injured soldiers from the west, and they shot the spy from left and right, but not before he could kill Hal. Hal had taken a shot to the head, and was dead instantly. After that, our squad of four was down to two. Me and Lei had been the only two left. These people were more than just my squad. They were my friends. Now they are gone. But Lei…Lei was everything. She was my greatest love.

I noticed that the jet I was travelling with was missing a member. All squads travel with four members, no more and no less. It's an easy number. Everyone has a job, and everything gets done. Simple.

“We lost our fourth to a grenade.” The black haired soldier spoke, again reading my face. He gestured to his face, which I assumed meant it was the same grenade that caused his injury. “It’s hard to move on after that. But you will.”

I forced a small smile, for the sake of being polite. I kept replaying it in my head; Lei taking a bullet, falling, bleeding, bleeding, bleeding until all the blood in her body was poured onto the floor. Bullets flying, bullets crashing, and the bullet proof vest failing.

Why were we there? We are merely the clean-up crew, the bystanders, the “I’m here because I have to be, but I still plan to go home” people. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

We flew for what felt like hours, in silence, apart from the few commands that the pilot would give. The other people on board had small snacks, but I didn’t eat. I couldn’t eat. How could I eat when my hands were still thick with blood? The napkin, that I hadn’t used but instead held onto, was now stained red.

At some point, I must have fallen asleep. Lei was there, talking to me. Was I dreaming? I faded in and out, feeling completely unsure of reality. If they were dreams, they felt so real. She was bleeding, but somehow at peace. She was with Hal, and Dom, and her brother who had died at the beginning of the war. She was smiling, and holding my hands. The same hands covered in her blood.

“It’s okay.” She whispered to me, holding my gaze. “We are waiting for you. Squad 546 is incomplete without you. Come join us!”

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” I pulled away from her, feeling betrayed. It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t chosen to die. I couldn’t see that. I wanted to be with them, with her. My one true love. Why wasn’t I allowed to be with her?

“You are not ready yet.”

I woke up feeling exhausted. How could I be more tired now than I was before falling asleep? The jet had stopped moving. We must have stopped somewhere. It was dark, and the window wasn’t there anymore.

I was laying on my back now, instead of sitting up against the jet seat. There was a pillow under my head, and my leg was raised on a small cushion. I tried to sit up, but my body just ached too much for me to move.

A light flicked on above me. It was bright, it felt like a spot light, it took me a moment to realize it was a surgical lamp. I squinted, turning my head slightly as somebody approached. They stood near my head, wearing a small mask and some gloves.

“Where…” I tried, but couldn’t get the words out.

“Save your energy.” He placed his hand on my wrist, checking my pulse. “You were injured. Your leg is in bad shape, but it will heal. Your squad did not survive. Do you remember this?” Lei. Hal. Dom. Their faces flashed before my eyes.

“Yes.” Words were forming easier now.

“Good.” I felt a small pinch in my arm as he injected me with something. “Just relax. We are taking care of you.”

Everything faded to black. I didn’t see my squad this time. It was too dark. My mind was too tired. When I woke up again, it was a different room. My leg felt numb and I could hear a heart rate monitor beeping beside me.

I sat up, feeling more revived. Beside me was a small glass of water and a pre-packaged sandwich. I had both, but couldn’t taste it. Maybe it was the drugs still wearing off. Maybe just the numbness I was feeling after losing Lei. I recognized the room I was in. We were on the aircraft carrier our squad had originally departed from. There was a big sign in the back room with a soldier from our army, the IronClad Legion, with bold letters reading “We want YOU for the army!” I remembered how proud Lei had been to serve at first. That was before all the injured came in, and we started losing our own. That was before Dom and Hal died. After that, she was merely a shell of the proud soldier she had been.

Footsteps approached. I recognized the thud of the boots on the ground. I looked up, I knew who it was before seeing his face. My Commander. I felt an overwhelming spark of anger. He should have been two steps ahead of the enemy, and we shouldn’t have ever been there. Yet we were there. He didn't act fast enough. I could feel the tension now in my face as I tried to stand to face him. Feeling the rage rising inside of me as he wore his badge with the little gold stars on his chest. I tried to get up to stand. I lost my balance as soon as I put pressure on my bandaged foot. I winced, and fell back onto the bed. Looking up at him now made me feel more angry. He stood tall, healthy and alive unlike my crew, unlike Lei.

“At ease.” His hands were behind his back. He looked at another soldier beside him, and nodded towards me. With that simple gesture, the soldier moved and placed a clipboard in my hands that had a few pages attached together by a staple.

I flipped through the packet. There were terms and conditions, a list of requirements, and a place for me to sign my name. I signed one of these when I first signed onto my job. I keep calling it a job. It’s not. It’s a task. I was drafted, selected, chosen. I had no choice. They had all the choices. Now my commander was standing in front of me, telling me I had to sign up again.

“My squad is dead!” I screamed at him, and the room went silent. Everyone froze. My commander just nodded at me, like this was a basic fact I should have learned by now.

“You will be assigned a new squad.” The words are like a punch in my gut. There is no sympathy, or sadness in his voice or in his face. My squad, my friends, they were just toys to him. Pawns in a game. I threw the clipboard to the ground. How dare he look so smug.

“We weren’t supposed to be in the crossfire. We were never supposed to see the war.”

“That was never guaranteed.” He said it so simply.

“No. My crew is dead. My friends are dead. They weren’t supposed to die. This isn’t what I signed up for.” His face scrunched up in a way I didn’t recognize. He gestured to the soldier beside him, who collected the clipboard from the floor and handed me a copy of my original contract.

“Section 3, line 48.” The soldier said. I read down the contract.

Working as a medic not on the front lines means there are less chances that you will face war or battle. This is not guaranteed. By agreeing to draft, you understand that you may die in the war. Agree. I hadn’t agreed. I was told that I had to sign, even if I didn’t agree. There was no choice.

“You did sign up for this. It’s written in the contract.” I shook my head.

“You told us that we would make it out alive.”

“I told you the chances were high. They were in your favour. I didn’t guarantee it. That would be giving you false hope.” My commander finally took his hands out from behind his back, and tapped the clipboard. “You need to sign this.”

I shook my head again. “Go to HELL. I’m done. My crew is dead. I don’t know how you sleep at night.”

“You are letting your emotions run rampant. Be reasonable: by serving, you are protecting your people. If you stand back, you let them win. Your crew would have died for nothing.”

I handed the clipboard and pen to the soldier. “I refuse.” My commander’s face stayed unchanged.

He tapped the pen to the clipboard once more. “What will you do instead? Return home to plow the fields? Pick the apples from the trees? Watch the sounds overhead knowing you could have done something, but chose not to? Your first crew were just people, strangers to you, but you will mourn them as if they were your own family. That pain will push you forward, as long as you stay in control.”

He was wrong. They weren’t just strangers. But they were dead. I couldn’t protect them. A new crew would be a second chance. “I want a gun.” My commander now stood emotionless, like a statue. Then finally, he smirked. Just slightly. There is no way out of this, and I knew. I have to go on. Lei, Hal and Dom. They were my crew. Now, I’d have a new crew. I didn’t sign up for this. We were excited to go home. Together.

Not even their bodies can be retrieved. Their families will forever be mourning empty graves. Empty caskets. My squad, squad 546. “You are not ready yet.” Lei’s words, from my dream, echoed. I am not ready yet. Not to join them. I have to go on. I took the pen and clipboard back. There was a quiet agreement now. A way to protect my new crew. I wasn’t signing without a voice this time. I had a choice.