Trent and Ray were encircled by the mission's ruins and continued checking the surroundings in desperate hope they could find some other useful hints there. But they found nothing, the only lead they had was Clay's tag that was abandoned in the sand, among the tire tracks.
Their dirty uniforms were clinging to their skin, making their job even more uncomfortable then it already was, but they had no intention to stop. They needed to find their teammate and they needed to find him soon.

"Come on, Trent. We must follow the traces before a sand storm or something else blow them off," Ray said, jumping in the van.

Trent nodded to him, starting the engine. "Let's go find our Tom Thumb."

"I just hope this is the right way, man." Ray gritted his teeth, staring at the messy traces.

"It has to be!" Trent let out a frustration grunt, strongly hitting the wheel with both his hands.

Ray felt chills run down his spine. He had never ever seen his teammate lose his self control like that, not once since he knew him.

"We'll find him," Ray said, trying to be convincing.
We will, he repeated to himself, needing to hold on that hope.

Silence echoed throughout the vehicle as the soldier put all their strength on the search. Their muscles were tensed, their ears straining and their looks attentively scanning the surroundings.
Trent's eyes were fixed on the street and on what was above. It was essential that he could properly follow the tire tracks, driving fast enough to not lose too much time, but slow enough so Ray could scan the desert areas they had on their sides. Needless to say, it was not an easy task for him either, as he only had two eyes and there was nothing other than dunes before them up to the horizon and over.

Suddenly, Ray's attention raised as he spotted some footprints in the sand. He looked more closely, rapidly following them with his eyes, only to find out they were camel traces. It was not military; just some poor guy trying to survive in the desert.

"Damn it!" This time was Ray who let his frustration out, seeing the traces he saw only two seconds prior were already disappearing in the wind. And he started to lose hope.
We're not going to find him this way.

Then the van stopped, awakening Ray from his thoughts. "What are you doing?"

Trent stood silent and almost dead-look, making Ray a sign with his head to watch at the crossroad in from of them. There were tire tracks in every direction, and there was no chance to understand which the right ones were.

"Damn it!" Ray grunted again before taking his radio in his hand.
"HAVOC, this is Bravo Two, we lost the direction. What do you have for us?"

"Stand by, Bravo Two, I'm searching." Davis' voice immediately came through.

... ... ...

Clay felt trapped, surrounded by sand dunes, and nothing more on the horizon and over, with the only exception of the burning remains the recent attack on his little convoy left on the street.
He was suffocated by the dry air and burned by the high sun, tormented by the memory of the poor Abigail lost in the fire because he could not protect her as he should.

Every time he spotted a vehicle approaching, he stopped breathing and sharpened his eyes in the attempt to discern the driver. And every single time he would hesitate, conflicted because if he showed his position to the wrong people, he would be dead, but if didn't show it to his team or to some possible good Samaritan that could pass along, he would be dead too.
Worst thing, he was not in the conditions to distinguish the two situations clearly.

I can't stay here, I'm too exposed, Clay thought, noticing how often some armed guys would pop out of nowhere to check on the remains on the street.
"Come on, you can do this. Come on," he kept muttering, trying to get on his feet.

He growled, forcing his legs to assist him and he tried to move while limping at every single step.
He looked more carefully around and spotted a small rocky heap what could have been a hundred meters from his current position. He knew rocks would give him much more protection than the simple sand and decided to head there.

He started walking, but his head was spinning so much that he couldn't go more than a few steps before falling on his knees with the nausea once again getting hard to control.
Suddenly, his muscles failed him and his body fell heavily on the ground, his face in the sand while not recognizing where he was anymore.

He hardly swallowed, trying to breath normally despite the grains of sand in his nose and mouth. Then he found the strength to roll on his back, coughing the dirt away from his face with pain hitting him strongly with every little finch.
He knew that if moved in these conditions he would easily find himself going in the wrong direction, and just for a change, he would risk making himself killed. So, he stood there for a while staring at the sky. He could not close his eyes, he knew that way he would be completely out of the reality.

"I already told you a dozen times, Clay," a familiar voice seemed to reach his ears. "You can't play these far in the desert, it's too dangerous."

He looked around, confused, trying to find the source of that female voice he was hearing. He was still not able to get up and he could see no one there, and more importantly, he was not sure he really heard that.

"Come on honey, you can't stay there all day, dinner's ready." That voice again, stronger, warmer, and more familiar.

"Grandma?" Clay blinked then turned his head, finally finding her there with the kindest smile on her face.
He sighed. "What are you doing here? It's not safe... It's not..."

"Come on Clay, get up. You need to get up. Now."

He blinked again as her figure got blurry. "No, no. Don't go, please..." A small tear descended on his cheek. "Please, don't leave me alone."

He sniffed. It was not real, it was not real! He tried to focus on the present and collect his remaining strengths.
Come on Clay, do as she said. He breathed deeply a few times then he cautiously got up again.
"Alright." He slowly started to move again. "You can do this."

He dragged himself along till he finally reached the selected spot and settled by the rocks.
He was heavily panting, and frustration was having the best of him. What normally would take him just a couple of minutes now took him an infinite amount of time, and moreover, he was completely out of strength just for doing it.

He laid on the rocks and when the adrenaline flow started to mend, he could listen to his body again.
What it had to say was not good news.

He took a hand to his left side, acknowledging the severe pain he felt. There was not a single muscle in his body that didn't ache, and the small but numerous burns on his arms were starting to get infected. His head was pounding and the damn ringing in his ears had not given him a break since it first started.
He looked up, continuing to breathe heavily while unable to control himself.

After a few minutes, his head was still spinning hard, and catching his breath became harder and harder. He immediately understood what was going to happen: he was about to faint.
He concentrated, he knew he could not let that happen. He knew he could not lose consciousness, or it would be the end for him.

What he had to do was calm down and update the rest of Bravo Team on his position. They were his only hope, and even if now he was even more lost than the last time he communicated with them, he had to try.

... ... ...

The jeep was proceeding high speed with Brock doing his best to drive them fast to Ray and Trent's position to join the search.
The silence of the desert pervaded them while the wait made their hearts beat fast.

Jason kept his eyes on the horizon, eagerly waiting for his teammates to appear on the road, but every now and then he had to glance back at Sonny who was oddly silently staring at the immense expanses of sand at his sides.

Usually when they were in a situation like that there was always someone who cracked a quick joke to relieve the tense atmosphere and prevent them from falling into the abyss, and almost always this person was Sonny. He would make some stupid comment or explain why this or that thing was on his phobias list, but this time, however, he was dead silent and none of them had the strength to be that person instead.

"For whoever can, um, can reach me now, this is Bravo Six... again." Clay's voice made them all stop to listen closely.
"I, um, I had to move, um, move from... um..."

"Why does he sound so confused?" Sonny frowned.

"I-I moved away from, um, from the street," Clay finally finished his sentence. "It was too... dangerous."

"Come on, kid, give us some hints." Jason begged him. "Come on!"

"There are some, um, some rocks h-here."

"Rocks and sand? That's not much helpful! Come on, Blondie." They all knew that Sonny was not good in keeping his frustration to himself.

"I can, I can still see t-the burned vehicles from here, so..."

"What burned vehicles? It's the first time he mentions that!" Brock remarked.

"You should be able to, um, to see my hiding spot, if you..."

That broken voice made Jason, Brock, and Sonny all look at each other, with the growing concern about the kid's health state.

"If you reach my position..." Clay's voice was full of distress. "I-I hope," he paused again. "I-"

Another long pause left all Bravo members on hiatus with their hearts not beating, not knowing what to expect.

"Th-that's all for, for now. Six out."

"Good Lord!" Brock said, concentrating back on driving. "Has he really said, 'if you reach me'? Is he really doubting we are searching for him?"

"We were not the best brothers to him lately," Jason painfully acknowledged. "We doubted him, and he sensed that. Now he is doubting us, and I can't blame him."

"Damn it, why couldn't he just be straight with us about that stupid book?" Sonny looked once again out into the desert.

"What if there was nothing to be straight about?" Brock insinuated.

They jumped to the conclusion with him. They could see that now, and the thought of their younger teammate all alone and losing hope, a inch from surrender to the fatigue, made their blood froze in their veins.
No, he is a Seal. He will never give up.

"Bravo Two, this is One, have you heard the kid?"

"Burned vehicles on the street," Ray promptly answered, "got it, we'll keep our eyes open."

"All Bravo stations, this is HAVOC base," Davis' voice came from all their radios. "I found something in the satellite images. I'll send you the exact location of what I see."

"Good job Davis," Jason said. "We'll head there too."

"On our way now," Ray said as he received the coordinates. "We're not so distant."

"All Bravo be advised," Blackburn voice sounded. "We see conflict growing in that zone, be fast, and be careful."

"Hang on Kid, we are coming," Jason said in his radio even though he knew too well Clay could not hear him.

... ... ...

Clay turned his radio off and put it down, taking the gun again in his hands.
Oh, come on, what's happening to me? He looked down at how intensely his hands were shaking.

My team is coming, they are! He rested his head on the hard rocks, trying once again to steady his breath. They are, for sure. He needed to convince himself, or he was not going to last long out here.

He inhaled the long as he could, looking up to the sky once again.
The night is falling, he exhaled, pushing off all his pain out of his body.

Oh, the desert nights. In a flash he found himself with his teeth chattering with the temperature dropping fast.
I had a few of those. His mind went back to his days in Liberia, his grandfather teaching him about the stars, his grandmother making sure he would stay warm while contemplating the wonder of that marvelous word.
At that point he started slowly slipping away, cuddled from the sweet memories.

Stop! You can't do this! He forced himself to keep his eyes open as the fatigue was really starting to get the best of him. You need to stay in the present. Stay here, stay awake!

He looked around, his right hand rested on his left side, the gun not so firmly in his left one with the ringing in his ears still accompanying him, being the only firm point in that crazy situation.

"Come on guys, where are you?" He whispered, knowing that despite all his best efforts, he was not going to last long.

... ... ...

Only sands for miles and miles surrounded Trent and Ray as they drove fast toward the coordinates HAVOC gave them. Their eyes hurt, staring at the horizon and praying to soon find their lost friend.

"Hey, hey! Watch out," Ray stopped Trent, seeing some commotion along the street.

Trent pulled over and stopped the van, trying to understand what was going on.

Ray looked around. Dunes: check; rocks: check; corpse and vehicles remains: check. This is it!
"This must be the right place," he said, trying to spot Clay in the desert.

They could not calm in relief for a single moment as some militants opened fire against them making them jump out of the van, and force them to immediately fire back.

"One, this is Two, we engaged a gunfight. We need immediate backup."

"Hang on, Two," Jason's voice instantly came out. "We're 4 mikes away from your position."

Bullets were flying in every direction and Ray and Trent had only a split second to decide which way to go. The wrong way and they would not find Clay in that immense area.
They choose to go right and found cover behind some dunes while keep firing.
Fortunately, their enemies were not well trained, and they managed to neutralize all the immediate threats in a few shots.

"They will come again. We need to find the kid soon," Trent said, taking stock of the munitions left.

"Alright, let's find him!" Ray carefully got up from his cover and started meticulously search around, sharpening his eyes as his task where now seriously made harder by the sun setting.

"There he is!" Trent pointed out a small figure hiding behind some rocks. He gave his back to them and was not completely visible, but his blonde, wild hair and the US navy vest on his torso made clear to them it was him.

"Oh, thank God!" Ray said as a smile full of relief appeared on his face.
"Wait, what is he staring at?" He made his teammate look at the horizon where rebels and soldiers were battling themselves.

"We have to hurry, let's go," Trent said, descending toward Clay, who was totally unaware his team was there to rescue him.

"Clay!" Ray tried to draw the kid's attention. "Clay! We're here!"
Right, he can't hear us. He approached him.

When they reached him, Ray put a hand on Clay's shoulder, to make him acknowledge their presence, but the kid abruptly turned back, scared by that unexpected contact, and started fighting his teammates, not realizing immediately who they were.

"Hey, hey, stop it! It's us!" Ray quickly disarmed him, blocking his hands while trying to not hurt him more than he already was. Then Trent stepped in and put his hand firmly on Clay's chest, making him look at him straight.

"It's okay, it's us," he sounded his words out loud and clear for him.

Ray could feel Clay's body gradually relaxing under his grip and his down-look lighting up again.

"It was about time guys," Clay panted, trying to dissimulate how much scare they gave to him.
"I-it's good to see you... really good." He laid back on the rocks, completely out of strength for the little fight he had.
"I'm... sorry..."

"It's good to see you too, Kid." Trent glanced at Ray, then turned back to Clay, smiling big to him. "You can't even imagine how.
"How do you feel?"

Clay stared at him, looking lost and sharpening his eyes to look more closely at his teammates.

"Are you all in one piece?" He tried again, spelling his words more clearly.

"I-" Clay's eyes kept fixating him, moving fast from Trent's eyeballs to his lips and back, with his pupils dilated. "I have this, um, this loud ringing here in my ears." He pointed his finger up to his head. "Umm, b-but if you, if you talk loud enough, I think, I may be able to hear something..."

Trent tried to look inside Clay's ears.
"I don't know." He turned to the extremely worried Ray. "I'm afraid it's his eardrums, but I can't really say anything for sure."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Trent raised his voice as much as he could, trying however to not let the approaching figures to spot their position.

Clay once again stared at him, his lips pursed, breathing heavily while searching the strength to speak, or maybe simply not knowing where to start to describe how bad he was really feeling.

In the meantime, Ray moved a few steps away and took the radio in his hands. "All stations, this is Two, we found Bravo Six. I repeat, we found the kid."

"Good job Ray!" Jason's voice sounded from the radio. "How is he?"

"Still alive, Trent is checking on him now."

"Let me take a look," Trent worded out, trying to examine Clay's bruised body.
"Let me!" He insisted, looking at him straight as the young soldier opposed to his attempt of unlashing his vest and lifting his shirt.

Clay slightly whined as his friend pressed his hands on his torso, failing in his attempt to suck it up.

"Hold on guys, we are almost there!" Jason's voice came over again.

"Hurry up, Jace, we're gonna have some company soon," Ray said, looking again at the horizon.

As Ray put out his radio, Trent quickly finished his examination of Clay's injuries and got up to speak with him, turning his back to his patient.

"What's wrong?" Ray asked him, reading in his teammate's eyes his high concern.

"Few burnings and possible cracked ribs, but what really makes me worry is his spleen. It seems a melon right now, if it's not already broken it will be soon."

"Internal bleeding?" Ray asked glancing at Clay.

Trent nodded, helpless.

"I may be almost deaf, guys, but I'm not completely stupid. I know that something is not right, you can stop hiding it from me."

"Hey, don't worry. We got you." Ray approached him and rested his hand on Clay's chest in a solid attempt to reassure him.

"We have to take him to an OR, soon." Trent took Ray's arm to draw his attention.

"Okay, let's go then."

"We can't."

"What?"

"We can't simply move him, we don't have a stretcher or anything else to transport him." Trent bit his lips. "Look, the wrong movement and his spleen goes into pieces. Internal bleeding of that caliber will mean he will die on us within a few minutes. We can't have that."

Ray gritted his teeth, looking down to the young soldier, then he made Trent slightly turn the other way, so that Clay could not see their faces. "We can't stay here. We're too exposed, if the rebels find us here, we're done."

They both looked down at their injured teammate, he was shaking hard, sweat drops descending from his forehead and his eyes never stopping to search for theirs. They could see how hard he was trying to act tough, but they knew that deep down he was at his limits.

... ... ...

Author's Note: thank you so much to those who took the time to review.
The scenes were Clay is alone in the desert were my favorite to write, I just hope I could portray the images I had in my mind in an effective way.