Author's note: Sorry it took so long to come up with another chapter. I have work, ya know!
- Epsilon Squadron: Task Force MI-5 Chapter 4
- Infirmary -
A loud shriek filled the open space of the wasteland. The sound stabbed painfully at my mind like a scythe to human tissue. Already it seemed like the end. I raised my rifle, shot after shot spewing forth as
I tried to take down as many Zerg as I can with the little ammo I had left. Marines fought to the bitter end; I was no exception. Everything I learned in combat about fighting Zerg I would put to use now. I kept on firing even as Zerglings rushed toward me, some to be torn open by well placed rifle fire, others blown by a grenade someone threw. Looked liked nobody in my squad was going to make it easy for the Zerg. I glanced left and right to see them stand their ground and give challenge to hostiles, visors gleaming in the harsh light of the wasteland sun. Even the pilot, with her small flak pistol. She was probably tired of running, like we were, and chose to fight. I saw how tight she held her weapon, eyes squinting, choosing a target. Vaguely I heard Walker cock his canister rifle. He led us this far. Maybe he would cook up a plan to save our skins from being filleted. Ghosts received intensive training, more intense than the hell Marines went through. I could only hope that he could save us.
"We've got incoming!" Langley cried out.
A thunderous explosion occurred before I had time to react. It ruptured the earth and wiped out a dozen or more Zerg just a few yards away from us. The shockwave registered all the way to my marrow. I blinked halfway and watched the aftermath.
"What the hell was that?! Cannon fire?" I heard Thorpe yell, surprised.
Out of nowhere something pierced my left shoulder. I felt it exit through and through. The pain was so sudden I disgraced myself by screaming. I fell flat on the ground. Blood, warmth and life slowly ebbed away from me. All senses seemed to shut down and I felt as though I was alone. I screamed again but this time it barely sounded like a whisper. Was this how it felt to die? So many desires, so many things to do, so many mistakes that I wanted to rectify. But I was out of time. This was it. Suddenly a bright light engulfed me.
"Matt? Matt! Please, calm down."
My breath came in rapid gasps, heart rate peaking the meter. Wasn't I dead. I had to be. But I touched my cheek. No, I felt real. The pain in my left shoulder, where I was hit, was real too. To my surprise I found myself in a hospital room when I expected to more of the wasteland. The Zerg were gone and replaced by white walls. Gentle ceiling lights shone down above me instead of the sun. And I was clothed in a loose gown, not army issue wear.
"Matt, you're not well. Lie down and get rested." I heard the nurse say. She was young, barely my age, clad in a spotless white uniform. Her chestnut mane flowed freely down her shoulders, smooth like it was painted on her. It reminded me of something...or someone.
"Where am I?" I ventured.
"MI-5," she simply replied.
"Really?"
"Yes," she replied as she looked down at me with a physician's eyes. "We received a distress call from a Corporal Langley of Epsilon Squadron's 5th Battalion. Militia sent out a rescue team, encountered the aliens and…now you're here."
Slowly I looked down at the white hospital blanket, fingers tracing the many wrinkles on the fabric. Finally, I reached the objective. I'm safe...at least for now. But...
"Where's my squad?"
She seemed hesitant, as if there was something I shouldn't know. "They're hurt, some worse than you, but don't worry. They're alive."
"I see..." At least no one died. I had no more questions for the time being. Instead, I felt the sudden urge to eat or drink something. It had been hours since I had a meal.
She was silent for a minute, intently looking at me. But then she moved closer, hands slowly reaching out to lightly touch my shoulders. I could smell her shampoo and the faint scent of disinfectant as she moved closer, easing me back to my bed. "Matt, you better get rested." she said.
"How come you know my name?" That was a stupid question. I was still groggy and in pain. She probably read my dog tags and now she was addressing me by my first name to put me at ease. Nurses did that sort of thing to calm down battle weary Marines.
Her smile faltered. "You don't recognize me, do you?"
I only looked at her blandly. Yes, she did resemble someone but it couldn't be her.
She waved a hand then placed it on her hip. "Um…Never mind. It's nothing."
"C'mon." My eyes squinted at her, trying to figure her out. "Talk to me."
"You need rest, Pvt. Griffith. That shoulder of yours needs to heal properly. Get to sleep, now. Otherwise you won't be able to hold another rifle in your hands again."
That wasn't a threat. I slowly eased myself down to bed even as she scribbled something on her notepad. She was about to leave when I called out, "Could you bring me a sandwich, please? I'm starved!"
She only glanced back then nodded.