"Can you see him
"Can you see him?"
"Look over there!"
"Major!"
The voices that advanced to his ear were disconnected, floating through his conscience like fireflies, impossible to follow, impossible to catch. Some drew closer, some drifted away, and with a detached fascination he listened to them in the darkness. It was a comfortable darkness, he decided, warm and quiet, covering him with its weight, shielding him from the voices that grew louder and he retreated into the soft folds of gloom, waiting for them to pass.
"Major!"
Impatient hands lifted the weight from him, leaving him vulnerable, shivering with the sudden loss of his refuge, and then, within moments, the world was suddenly turning upside down and he cried out in protest when his unsuspecting body shot bolts of pain into his mind, trying futilely to escape, to no avail. Cold, clammy fingers moved over his face like spiders, and shuddering with revulsion he tried to jerk away.
"Major, can you hear me?"
The voice, so close to him, slowly registered, calling his attention from his acute misery, and he frowned, trying to remember fleeting memories, yet when he tried to open his eyes, light shot into his skull, melting his eyeballs, and he flinched from the pain, this invasion of his darkness.
"I got him! He's alive!"
For a moment the words echoed in his head, yet when they had faded, something heavy settled on his stomach, suffocating him, and feebly he tried to push it away, determined not to serve as a crow's feast. His hand, however, was caught, and with the strength in the hand that held him came a sense of direction, a sense of memory, and of pain that whipped through his body like quicksilver.
"Major", the voice close to him insisted, and he winced, cursing MacKenzie for not letting him die in peace.
"… hear … ya … ", he croaked, forcing words past his parched throat, yet the sergeant must have understood, for the weight on his body lifted. Instead he felt his head lifted and fought the dizziness that felt like a stone in his mouth, felt something cold pressed to his lips, felt something that tasted like iron run down his throat.
Then his head was laid down, and, thankful for the solid ground beneath him, he took a deep breath, wondering if they could just leave him alone.
His wish wasn't granted. An army of voices arrived, growing to an unbearable level, yet before he could attempt to voice his protest, hands dragged him upward, and his mind and body exploded in agony.