First Responders Series Book 2

Book 2: Healing Hands

UNKNOWN

The sound of a discharged RPG whistled through the air like a horde of angry wasps. The transport carrying Cody and his unit exploded, flipping end over end.

There was no time to evacuate the vehicle. There had been no warning. The stretch of road they were on, carrying soldiers and supplies, was usually a quiet one, but that didn’t allow for you to let your guard down.

Cody was always on the lookout, as were his comrades in arms. There had been no indication the sandy hills that lay on the sides of the road were filled with insurgents. Until now.

Cody didn’t remember much after the RPG hit his transport. He remembered the sensation of flying, then blinding pain licking over his uniform, and finally his skin. The sounds of rapid gunfire echoed around him before everything went blissfully dark. When he opened his eyes again, he was in a field hospital.

“Easy there, Sergeant,” a deep voice sounded somewhere over him. “You’ve been through hell, soldier, and survived. You rest now. We’re sending you home.”

Cody’s eyes shuttered closed again as he succumbed to unconsciousness once more.

The months after were filled with excruciating pain and guilt. He had been med-evac’d home to the closest military hospital to heal. There were burns over 70 percent of his body, but somehow, his neck and head escaped damage.

He’d been told one of his comrades had crawled over his head and neck to try to shield him and put out the flames engulfing him. That soldier gave his life to save Cody’s. Emerson. Clint Emerson, a soldier from a small town in Idaho.

He remembered his friend’s easy smile and goofy sense of humor. Clint didn’t deserve to die in a desert in Iraq with a bullet between his eyes. But he had, and the guilt was eating Cody alive.

“Okay, Sgt. Davenport, let’s check these wounds, shall we?” Nurse Shea was a sweet lady, about the age of Cody’s mother, with a friendly smile and gentle demeanor. That is, until he refused to do what she asked. Then she became something akin to Nurse Ratchet but always with that sweet smile.

He gave her a weak smile and nodded his head. She patted his cheek and muttered, “That’s my good boy.” After a while, she set about changing the dressings and making sounds of appreciation. “Your wounds are healing might nicely, son. I tell you what, you are a very lucky young man, hon. Some of these won’t even scar.”

“Tell that to Clint,” he huffed. He ran a tired hand over his scruffy chin.

Nurse Shea clicked and shook her head. “Now you listen to me, Sergeant.” She placed her hands on her hips and leveled Cody with a stern glare. “Clint would for damn sure be turning over in his grave if he saw the way you were acting. He gave his life to save yours. The least you could do is be a little bit grateful.”

She crossed her arms when he went to speak, holding up a hand to stop his words. “Oh, I ain’t done yet, boy. I did my time as a combat nurse, and I’ve seen worse cases than you come out of impossible situations alive and kicking. Me included. My best friend threw himself in front of a bomb to protect me from the blast. There was barely enough of him to identify, and I had to piece him back together so we could send him home.”

Cody’s blue eyes were wide and misted over.

“Do you see me running around here with my tail tucked between my legs crying ‘woe is me?’” She placed both hands on the railing of his bed so she could capture his gaze fully. “No, you abso-fucking-lutely do not. Rod would come back from the dead and kick my ass. He did it because he loved me.

“He did it because he understood what he signed up for. He did it because he valued everything he was fighting for and wanted to see me live to tell his story. He wanted me to live. He was a hell of a soldier, a hell of a man, and the best friend a girl like me could ever have. Not a day goes by I don’t miss the shit out of him.

“But I refuse to dishonor his memory by living my life in grief and wishing it was me in his place. I made that promise to myself a long time ago. I got married to the love of my life, had four big, handsome, strapping sons, and my first grandbaby on the way. I have lived a good life despite my sorrow, son, because Rod would have wanted me to.”

Her gaze softened as she laid a gentle hand on Cody’s wet cheek.

“Clint would want you to do the same. All your comrades would want that for you. So, you survive, Sgt. Davenport. You survive so they can see you thrive, living the life they knew you were destined for.”

Cody didn’t hold back anymore. He broke right there in the arms of Nurse Shea. He sobbed violently while she held him, encouraging him to let it all out.

“How?” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the sobs. “How did you get through that? How the hell am I going to get through this?”

Nurse Shea patted his cheek again, wiping the tears away with her calloused hand. “One step at a time, honey. First thing you must do is get yourself healed up on the outside. The inside will come with time. But you have to make the time for that.

“I was lucky. When I came home, I lost my mind for a while. I couldn’t function. The nightmares were the worst. Back then, they still called it shell shock, but now they call it PTSD.

“Rod’s wife practically strong-armed me into going to a veteran’s survival group. She strolled into my house one day like she owned the place, pulled my sorry ass out of bed, and shoved me into the shower. She was like a tiny drill sergeant”—she chuckled—”but she refused to let me give up. She said, ‘If I can live without him, you bet your ass you can too, Shea.’ Best damn piece of advice I ever got.”

“Did it help?”

Shea nodded emphatically. “Sure as shit did, son. I met my wonderful husband in that group. We helped each other heal, and before we knew it, we were married, and I was knocked up with Son Number One…which, by the way, we named Rod.”

Cody chuckled lightly. It was the first time he’d come close to anything like a laugh in months.

Shea pulled away gingerly and finished her job. His worst wounds were redressed, and she checked his vitals. With one last look, she asked, “So what’s it gonna be, Sergeant? You gonna keep wallowing, or you gonna start your next journey in this life?”

Cody chewed his bottom lip in thought. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Cody’s lips parted in a lopsided smile.

Shea laughed heartily and gave him a mischievous wink. “You bet I did, Sergeant. Can’t let a fellow survivor down now, can I?”

This time, Cody’s laugh was full-bodied and for the first time since it all happened, he felt the heaviness in his heart lighten up.

“You’re gonna be just fine, son,” Shea said with a wide smile.

“Thank you, Nurse Shea,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet, Sergeant. The hard part is yet to come, but I’ll be there with you every step. You have my word.”

Cody smiled. This amazing, strong woman had made it through hell. Surely, he could too. And she was right. Clint and the rest of his comrades would want him to go on, living a good life filled with love and happiness. He owed it to them, especially to Clint, to make sure he did just that.

“Same time tomorrow, then?”

“Same bat time, same bat channel.” Shea giggled and left the room.

Cody sighed and looked out the bright window that overlooked the city. He had a lot to think about now. Shea had hit everything right on the nose. She came in and slapped him with some hard truths but showed him the light in the dark.

Right then and there, he made a promise to Clint and his fellow soldiers. He would survive, and he would live well in their honor. It was the least he could do.

But first, he had to get his body working again. He was determined to get better now. He felt the change in his soul, the shift toward life instead of death. He felt the birth of determination.

“I promise, guys. I will survive. I will not take for granted the life you gave me. Just be patient with me.” With that last thought, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with a smile.