Air and Water
Breathing hard, harder than normal, Sam continued to move through the trees.
"Man, I know that I'm in better shape than this. I haven't been moving fast enough or long enough to warrant the way that I feel."
Sam realized that her leg was throbbing again, probably because she hadn't loosened the bandanna for a while. She stopped, making a complete survey of the area to be sure that the drone wasn't close, and slid down a nearby tree. She ended up sitting propped against the tree, legs stretched out in front of her. She untied the knot and could feel the circulation returning to her leg. She closed her eyes for a moment and savored the momentary relaxation, knowing that she couldn't stay there very long.
Sitting there, waiting for her breathing to return to normal, she recalled more of the advice from one SERE instructor in particular. His real name was Sergeant Milner, but the cadets all called him Sergeant Moonbeam. His training lessons included the phrases "Become one with the terrain." "Focus on your center." "Breathing is life." Discussing the last one in the barracks, the consensus was a sarcastic "No, really?" The cadets in her training group were convinced that the man was a former hippie who'd been living in a commune and had been drafted during the sixties. Instructions such as "Control your breathing if you want to control your life" were considered to be remnants from his former life in some cult.
Sam had not disagreed with their assessment, since most of the advice did seem to be a little out there. But at the end of the course, which had included an actual survival and evasion exercise, some of those phrases made a lot of sense. "Become one with the terrain." Hiding under a pile of leaves or covering yourself with dirt to blend in. "Control your breathing." Keeping quiet could keep an enemy from finding you.
As Sam knew all too well now, regulating her breathing could help with pain control as well. It couldn't eliminate the pain, of course, but it helped to focus her thoughts on something other than the pain. She'd used the technique too often in the last seven years, when pain was there, and medication wasn't.
"Long, slow breath in through the nose, out through the mouth. Use your diaphragm. Again. And again."
"Control your breathing, control your life."
A couple of years out of the Academy, when Sam had the clearance, she'd checked Sergeant Milner's record. He had come from California, as they'd all speculated; but he'd enlisted, not been drafted. He served in Vietnam, receiving a Silver Star for heroism in combat. She couldn't find anything about his life before entering the service. In a way, she was glad that she wasn't able to dig up that information. It allowed her to keep some of the mystery alive.
Sam retied the bandanna and got up. The short rest was enough to allow her to regain her breath and a little more energy, enough to propel her up and on the run again.
She continued to move, unsure if the drone was near. She hadn't spotted him in some time, but the constant movement and pain were taking their toll. She wouldn't be able to keep on much longer. She needed to find a safe place to hide for a while. But she was also incredibly thirsty, and knew that dehydration could be a concern, especially with the rising temperature. As she limped on, she heard the familiar sound of burbling water. She spotted a stream in the distance, and moved cautiously to the edge of the trees. It would be risky, leaving the cover that the trees provided, but her need for water was too great. Still inside the forest, she moved slowly parallel to the stream, looking for a spot where the stream was relatively close to the tree line. She kept up a constant surveillance of the region, looking for any sign of the drone. She was almost ready to give up and just run for the stream when she noticed a pile of logs halfway between the stream and tree line.
"Perfect! I can use them as cover both coming and going."
She took one last look for the drone and hurried to the logs, pausing briefly, then on to the stream. She bent over and cupped a hand into the cold water, and quickly gulped down several handfuls.
A series of blasts tearing through the air startled her. She looked up to see the drone on the other side of the stream taking aim to shoot again. She ran quickly to the logs and dove over them as his shots passed by. She poked her head over the top of the pile to see the drone advancing across the stream. She turned and ran back into the trees as he kept firing. She moved at a much faster pace than before, fueled by fear induced adrenaline.
The drone moved in pursuit, but couldn't immediately catch up with his prey. Sam took advantage of her slight lead to veer off and found a small outcropping of rock which she could squeeze behind. The drone lumbered by as she once again held her breath, waiting for him to move some distance away. Once she felt it was safe, she clambered out, determined to find a hiding place where she could recover some strength.
Author's note: to be continued