Chapter 37
As he swayed in place now that his feet stopped and had trouble to steady on the uneven ground, Clay finally was able to acknowledge where they were. Well, to an extent. They were stopped on a small cliff only a few feet above a raging river. It was full of rapids and rocks, and Clay sent a silent prayer that this was not the same waters he initially fell into when he was first shot. He would not have survived when he fell unconscious; he would have drowned for sure and not avoided any of the rocks, as he would have been sucked down the river.
Rough hands flew to his shoulder, pushing him down to his knees along the cliff's edge. The man must have realized he was wasting time trying to get Clay back to their base, as he was a lost cause. He was not going to make it much further, and if he did, by some miracle, make it to their base, he would not be able to give them any information about who he was and what he wanted. During their walk, the only words the Blonde let slip past his lips were 'Brian' and 'I love her.'
This was it. The moment right before his execution and the river would wash all evidence of him away. The man reached forward and went for Clay's neck, digging under his collar and coming up with his prize. Pulling out a silver chain, he yanked hard, breaking the clasp and setting Clay's body as he swayed back from the movement of the clasp breaking.
As the Russian reached forward with his other hand dropping his rifle, trying to grab Clay and steady him, he lost his footing in the mud and fell into Clay's torso. Causing the last needed push of momentum to Clay's already leaning back torso, the blonde flew back, followed by the body of his captor.
With a hard splash, Clay submerged and struggled to stay afloat as he looked up, keeping his face above water as his body tried to use his arms as a buffer to protect him from all the rocks. Beside him, he heard a crack along with a grunt and saw the man's ribs collide with a nearby rock as he landed in the water beside him, submerged up, and started to shout for help. He was gasping for air as he followed Clay downriver and was battered by rocks. Luck must have finally peeked into Clay's life as he managed to fall into an open patch of water and not hit any of the stones, but as fast as luck came, she disappeared as his body was not safely flowing downriver. Yes, he managed not to hit his head, but he was thrown into rocks left and right. More bumps and bruises to add to his collection, but it seems Lady Luck decided to take one last peek into his life as he again managed to wash up on shore with no more broken bones or punctures. His 'friend' was not so lucky as he washed up on shore a few feet away from him with a large gash on his forehead and a very deformed forearm. As they both lay there sputtering up water trying to wiggle out of the water by any means possible and get further up the grasses shore, they completely ignored each other's presence.
Clay was not going anywhere, but he did manage to get most of his body out of the water, just enough to receive a few laps of water to his boots. That was good enough in his books. He would not drown or get swept back into the rapids, so a win in his books. Hell, he had some small standards right now if this was a win.
His new 'friend' managed to get further up on the grass and onto his feet as he swayed and stumbled, trying to take a step and slipping in a pile of mud. As he tried again to get on his feet, he fell around and soon became covered in the brown muck, causing him to slip more. He finally managed to crawl out of the mud with some struggles and make it onto more grass as he stumbled to his feet and sent one look back to the unmoving SEAL. Concluding that he was not going anywhere if he had not died already, the Russian continued stumbling into the trees. But with one soft thump, Clay looked up into the trees, unable to see anything but concluded as the sound of rustling dissipated; the man fell and may have succumbed to his injuries. His head lac and the fell into he ribs looked like they could be fatal. Good riddance.
Clay could hear wheezing as he lay there sputtering up water slowly, trying to regain his breath with the limited movements his chest allowed. Was that him?
There was no assessing him injuries at this point. He could hardly keep his eyes open and form a functional thought from the blood loss he knew was slowly taking his life; Clay decided maybe he should try and flip over from his stomach. Yes, looking at the sky would be a nice site for his final moments. This was the next best thing if he could not see Liz, Sonny, Jason, or Brian. Calming and peaceful. Forcing all his focus and mind power, he sent signals to each limb; wiggling each limb and sucking in a sharp breath, he used the last of his strength to roll himself over onto his back. It was a slow, painful process, and by no means did it go without a hitch. Each movement made him scream in pain and succumb to the darkness that swallowed his vision. It must have taken him what felt like hours to flip over as each time he came to, he had to regain his bearings to try and focus on what side of the earth and sky his body was facing and then try and move even a mere inch to continue onto his journey towards his back. Finally, he could relax as his face gazed up towards the sky, and some pressure was lifted from his chest as his ribs were not pushed on. Peacefully Clay looked up, taking in the sounds he could hear of the river, wind in the trees and a few birds in the distance. If it was time, this was not too shabby.
Again, the darkness pulled him in and out of consciousness as he took many unscheduled naps waiting for his fate and dreaming about Liz and Brian. The fever was taking over his mind again, but at least his moments were peaceful.
….
Bravo- Present time
Cerb pulled on his lead, whining as Brock and Ray stood frozen, waiting for Jason to give orders. Taking in sight before them, they sucked in a breath and held it waiting. Cerb managed to wiggle out of his lead and threw Brock to his knees as he lunged forward, trying to grab the fabric. This was not normal behaviour for the dog unless one of his team members were in trouble, and even then, he still listened to commands. But his time, the only thing he was focused on that would cause him to ignore all of Brock's commands would be if one of his pups was in danger or injured.
Clay.
They found him!
"Jase, we have him," Ray yelled as he stepped forward, not waiting for Jason. Rifles still up and scanning the area, the two SEALs walked slowly towards the river and to the body stretched out in front of them while the hair missile was nudging his face. Neither man missed that the blonde did not react to any movement or sound from them and the whining Malagator.
Before they knew it, Jason and Trent came barrelling beside them, rushing towards the blonde and pulling him up further onto the ground to get him out of the water so they could start assessing him. Slowly, Blackburn, Liz and Sonny came over, still keeping an eye on the trees, knowing they were in the grey area along the border, so there could be enemy fire. As they circled the scene, Liz and Sonny glanced back behind them toward their brother. Glancing up in fear, their eyes met and paused as they both whispered that he would be ok.
"No pulse." Trent barked out as his fingers rested along Clay's neck, as his eyes assessed the body in front of him, trying to understand all the injuries. "Jase start CPR; Liz, get down here and start breathing for him."
Without any thought, Liz lunged towards Clay as her brothers closed the gap and stepped in to close the circle, ensuring no gaps were leaving them exposed.
"Trent!" Sonny barked out with a slight quiver in his voice as he stood his ground while staying on watch. "How long?"
"I don't know. He is still warm." Trent responded as he rummaged through his bag, gathering all supplies he needed, and slowly started to assess the wounds he could see. Get a handle on what he was dealing with while he fought internally about how far he would go to begin his assessment. Should he start cutting away clothing or wait for Clay to get a pulse if he returns. This was their brother, and he prayed they would bring him back, but he was also trying to be rational as he had no answers and did not want to expose Clay and take away his decency and pride by cutting away his clothes if he never does recover. Does he want to poke and prod and disrupt his body and peace if he never returns to them or leaves him in his state of glory? He was a hero and did not deserve to be seen as anything less. And taking away his clothing and peace would disrupt that. But he needed to be aware of the injuries so he could jump right in as soon as they revived him and stop his heart from failing on them again.
"He waited as long as he could for us." Sonny mumbled out; his voice shaken with emotion. "We were to late! We let him down."
"He is too stubborn to accept this as his fate. We will get him back kicking and screaming right off deaths door." Brock spoke softly towards Sonny trying to give him any ounce of reassurance he could. "We have not let him down. I promise you that brother. He knew we would always be there for him."
Jason could see something going on in his medic's head and knew he needed to do something to help. His hands idled in the air as he opened and closed his gloved fists and sat inside his thoughts. "Trent, take over compressions. Son, set up the litter; we have to be ready to get out of here."
Compression, compression, compression, compression, compression, breath. Pulse check.
This repeatedly occurred as Jason and Trent switched out a few times, but Liz insisted she could stay and continue breathing.
Fifteen mikes passed as they all sat there, not moving a muscle waiting for any sign of life.
"Jase, I think it's time," Ray called over his shoulder, not wanting to be the one to say it, but he knew there had to be an end.
"No. You keep going!" Sonny snapped out, sending a glare to Ray and then looking over his shoulder to the scene behind him with a pleading glance connecting Jason and Trent's eyes.
Liz did not remove her eyes from Clay's face as she held onto his cheek and ran a hand through his hair between breaths. She was whispering towards him, calling out for him. "Come back to me, please. I can't live without you."
"One more round," Trent ordered. He knew it was time but could not give up on Clay and let his team down. They needed hope.
Compression, compression, compression, compression, compression.
Just as Liz's fingers pinched off Clay's nose and her lips met his exhaling a breath into the mouth of the blonde, Clay's heart jolted. Breath.
Pulse check.
"I have a pulse!" Trent bellowed out as he sent a silent thank you into the air.
"Come on, Sunshine, let us see those baby blues. Open up those eyes." Jason called out as he softly patted Clay's cheek, rubbing his thumb beside his lips.
"Hey, Peter Pan, it's time to stop sleeping on the Job. You leaving Tinkerbell to do all the work." Sonny pipped up. He needed Clay to hear him and know he was there for him.
"Son, come help Trent cut open his clothes. We need to see what is going on." Jason ordered out, knowing Sonny needed to be involved. He struggled to be on watch while they brought back his best friend, and now that they had him, Sonny needed to be there.
As Sonny joined Trent with an extra pair of scissors, they quickly ripped Clay off his boots and belt and cut away his pants and shirt, leaving him in only his boxer briefs.
"Clay, please open your eyes. We need to see you. Come on. Please come back to us." Liz whispered as she continued to run her hands through his hair.
"Clay." Jason tried again. "Can you hear us? Open them eyes and show us you're here. We got you. Your safe."
As the team waited, watching Clay's fingers twitch, all focused on his hands and the slight movements, they sucked in a breath. Slowly they all skimmed up along his body, taking in sight being exposed to them from under his clothes; they made their way back to his head and were met with dull blue eyes staring back at them. Wondering from face to face trying to take in the sight above him.
"What are you guys doing here on the beach?"
A tight noise escaped Sonny as Jason and Liz looked from Clay's blue orbs to Trent with concerned and questioning looks. No one knew what to say.
"Clay. Hey, are you with me?" Trent kneeled over Clay making direct eye contact. "There you are. Hey buddy. You're safe. We have you here in the woods and will get you all patched up and home."
"Home?"
"Yeah, buddy. Home back to VA beach. Back in your apartment. Is that ok?"
"Home."
He took that as a yes. He was unsure where Clay's mind was if he had returned to them or was still at the beach, but he did not care. He was verbal here in front of him. Talking. Breathing.
Alive.
