If There Was Anyone Else

My physical therapy was a continuous thing in the Juneau Hospital, and the drugs given to me were more for pain rather than the medical serums that fused bone back together. The kind of injury in my pelvis was one that I was told would take a long time to heal, even if it did so properly. So, the days were slow and I still had to roll along in a wheelchair when I needed to go somewhere.

Savaren still didn't look good, but he was slowly coming around, and requiring less doping drugs every few days. Where that immoveable shrapnel was lodged made the simple act of breathing a very agonizing activity for him and it could take a very long time for his body to adjust to it. Still, with fewer pain killers and as more days passed, I was eventually able to have a few little conversations with him.

So, I spent most of the days in the common room with Andrews and Collins playing games or watching TV until they'd have to report for a wellness check. Time passed slowly still, and the day on the calendar reached September 29th.

That evening, I laid there on my bed, attempting to fall asleep. It was hard to willfully fall asleep with all that was on my mind in that time. That recurring thought about what would happen to me was the most frequent. Still unable to focus on much other than my fate, and about all that happened, I realized that day how the thought of Savannah had never really entered my mind.

Having been in the hospital a few weeks at that point, the realization that I never told Savannah or mom what happened weighed heavily on me. The feeling was almost like I had betrayed them. So many days passed and they were probably still sending letters to the carcass and grave site of LM-5 if they hadn't been presuming the worst by that point.

Thankfully, I got Alyssa to get me the prescription for the drug I'd been taking very early upon waking. Otherwise, I'm not sure how I would've taken the thoughts of how I was tormenting my family by not checking in... let alone the recurring thoughts of losing almost everyone I went through hell with.

That thought of what will happen to me often circled back to who made it out, and why I was one of them. Tony Stiles, Barry Miller, Mark Rowland, Hill, Captain Mosby, Lt. Royce, even SFC Reed; all of them and the many others I escaped Montréal with were killed. My past had almost entirely been erased, and all that remained of those who actually knew me were Savaren, Andrews, Collins, and my own self. Savaren, Andrews, Miller, Collins, Stiles, and lots of others deserved to make it out of Montréal one way or another, but only three of them did... and me. Those three who made it out of Montreal and LM-5 were better than almost everyone else morally, spiritually, or whatever. Guys like the heartless Captain Mosby, dickhead SFC Reed, and radiation bomb testing Lt. Royce got what they deserved in LM-5. So, that left me wondering again; why did I survive?

Then the image of Savannah entered my brain again, and I didn't even want to write a letter since I felt that there were no words to describe what happened. I feel the reason I never even thought about telling them what happened before that evening is because I shouldn't've been alive to write it in the first place...

Still tossing, turning, and contemplating another dose of my meds, I sat up to the sound of a door opening. Alyssa entered the doorway and stood by my bedside. I was going to ask about why she had an even bigger smile than she normally did, when she said the words that still stick in my head to this day;

"Pack up, David. You're going home."

What?

I sat there for literally a few minutes, wondering what those cryptic words meant. Upon considering the blunt meaning of those words, I knew what she said was the pain killers.

She repeated herself with a laugh and when I saw a tear finally become heavy enough to fall down her face; the meaning sank in.

I shouted out loud in my little room. The words repeated a thousand more times in a second getting more and more clear each time. I saw in her face what she had said, and I couldn't hold it anymore.

"How!? How did!? WHAT!? or WHY!? I get to go HOME!?"

Hyperventilating, I found myself sobbing, the words even clearer as she wiped away another few tears while I screamed in joy, sadness, confusion, and such such overwhelming happiness, hope, or whatever the fuck.

The words echoed once more in my mind, "Pack up, David. You're going home."

As I found myself grappling for consciousness, the room stilled and she answered my slew of questions lightly, "I got you on the next flight back to DC from Juneau. I managed to pull some strings and got you on that plane."

Feeling the tears streaming down my face and unable to answer the why of things, I felt myself smiling. It felt like such a strange feeling to smile again. It wasn't the kind of smile shared with friends built on a foundation of misery, the smile was from purity. Pure pure innocence entered my body from words that brought me a joy I did not deserve.

Through all the overwhelming emotion I hadn't experienced but was flooded with all at once, I had so many questions. Unable to formulate words in my mind, I found my mouth asking for me, "How did you manage this?"

She teased by matching my tone, "You sound skeptical? You shouldn't question me. I can always burn up your ticket here if you'd rather have that? Haha!"

I gave a brief laugh, then said, "Seriously though, why did you do this for me?"

She sighed, "I remembered our first meeting in Montréal. Over those days you talked about your family back home like they were the only thing that gave your life meaning…."

She paused for a minute, "... Not many people have that, especially people who've been in Annexland for so long-"

I interrupted, "But why is this possible? Why do I get to go?"

Her answer seemed to strike me in a way I should've expected but still didn't see coming, "You're technically part of the Alaskan Front, David. Things operate differently here than in Annex cities, plus, I heard you were reassigned to a new unit given what happened to your company. You and the survivors of your company were getting transferred to the 92nd Infantry Regiment currently on route to Anchorage... Only problem is: You all are reserved because of injury, but..."

I didn't hear much else; I knew the simple point under all the words she was saying. Everyone I knew, loved, and lived life with in Montreal had to be killed in order for me to finally go home. LM-5 and the transfer to the Alaskan Front couldn't save me or us from the lingering effects of Sherman jurisdiction. Almost everyone had to die for this to happen.

The question hit me again, "Why was I spared?" I thought about that for a long time, but maybe there was no meaning to it at all. All I knew was that Alyssa was done talking by this point and I could only say;

"I don't know how to thank you."

She instantly said, "You don't need to thank me at all…"

She stopped and then said, "Even the wounded on the AF don't go home that regularly, but there are those who can't wait or adjust to even modern medicine fast enough. In a few days, there's a bunch of planes going out across the country, and when I found out about the D.C. one, I knew I had to get you on it. I simply thought of you, and gave the doc my professional notes saying that your pelvis is never going to heal."

I asked, "My pelvis is never going to heal? I'm never going to walk again?"

She said rather nonchalantly and with a wink, "That's what my notes say, and doc's too busy to evaluate everyone himself. What I say goes, and I couldn't find a wheelchair brigade for the cavalry. Plus filling out my recommendation for Another unit transfer sounds like a pain in the ass. So, there's no place for you in this chick's army. Might as well ship you home with the other cripples…"

The way she talked always made me smile. She continued, "In all honesty; I don't know if you'll be able to walk again. There are drugs more plentiful in the civilian world for bone refusion, and physical therapy couldn't hurt as the refusion drugs work their magic. It could take a while though."

I stopped her by holding out my arms. She leaned in to give me a hug. I held that woman for a long time not even caring about the pressure she put on my pelvis. This was all too much, and by far the best news I ever heard in my life. Tears in my eyes, I said the only thing I could, "Thank you."

She broke from my clutches, reached in her pocket, and gave me two quarters, "Let's go use the payphone in the lobby. I'll push you there." She gave a wink, and turned away wiping something from her eye.

She pushed me down the hallways and into the elevator. All the while, I was thinking about not just my first time hearing of a payphone in the hospital, but what I would say when Savannah or Mom picked up the phone. While she pushed me there, she said that the plane was going to have 100 wounded soldiers from different parts of the Alaskan Front. The plane was set to depart at 1400, and she said it would be a long flight to DC, but we'd be there by 0800 DC time on the 1st of October. As she read the ticket aloud, she said the plane was landing in the DC Airport Military wing, Terminal 11 at approximately 0800 on the 1st of October, and I only thought how I strangely wished there was more time. It was still the 29th of September, and that meant I was going to be headed home just as the sun was setting tomorrow. Timezones and all that shit taken into account, the nearly 9 year continuous nightmare was going to be over in only a few short hours.

I heard what Alyssa was saying as she pushed me through parts of the hospital I hadn't seen, but getting closer to the phone, I got more and more nervous. I hadn't heard mom or Savannah's voice in years. I remembered hearing mom the last time I saw Alyssa years earlier, and I wondered what I sounded like.

I rolled up to the payphone and put the quarters in while Alyssa stood off to the side. I held the phone to my ear and punched in the numbers to our home phone I've remembered since I was born. The phone rang once… it rang again… and again… Nobody answered, but the automatic voice said to leave a message. I wasn't entirely sure how to leave a message in a phone since it had been so long. I was about to start explaining myself like in a radio transmission or a call for backup. Finally, my body spoke for me, and I said softly into the phone, "Hey, it's me… DC Airport, Military wing, 8AM 1st of October, Terminal 11… See you soon."

That was it. The message was over and I hung up to see Alyssa standing off a few feet talking to another nurse she apparently knew. She glanced over to see me with the phone hung up, and one of her eyebrows raised. I shook my head, but she knew it was all ok. A smile grew on her face which made one grow on mine as she approached to push me back to the elevator the way we came.

I didn't deserve to talk to my family then, but that was ok given how the next few hours would turn out and what that would lead to. Entering the elevator, and looking up at that incredible woman who too was plagued by years of isolation on the fronts of war, I had one thought that sticks with me the same way those words "Pack up, David. You're going home" did.

When I looked up at Nurse Alyssa, I could only think: If there was anyone else I sincerely loved in all my life, it was her.