Skyler, an Ultimate challenge
Author
Mirjam Kik Pollemans
Reads
17.2K
Chapters
34
When Skyler loses her legs and her hearing to a mortar impact, her life changes overnight. She is a soldier through and through, and now she has to put that life aside.
She goes to live with her parents in America, who bought an American football team a few years ago, so she can heal and rebuild. She finds new friends, a new kind of life, and the man she left behind, who still has no idea what happened to her.
But danger lurks here too, in a different way than in the army.
A story about dealing with the challenges that life gives you.
1: Chapter 1
The silence was deafening—so complete it swallowed even the screaming pain in every cell of her body. She was clearly not dead, though that eerie stillness might have suggested otherwise. She was lying in a bed, her back aching, though not from the ground beneath her.
She had once been taught to scan her body for the source of pain—to locate it precisely rather than let it wash over her. She started with her toes… She felt nothing there.
She tried to wiggle them. Nothing happened.
Heat rushed over her. She wanted to open her eyes, but she couldn’t.
With what little effort she had, she pushed down the panic clawing up her throat.
She brought her attention back to her legs. Her ankles. Her calves. Her shins.
Her chest tightened.
There—terrible pain, radiating from just below both knees. Her thighs, too: a sharp, raw ache, like cuts laid open.
She tried once more to move her toes. Nothing.
She moaned. She knew she was moaning—she felt the vibration—but she couldn’t hear it.
Oh God. I’m deaf…
“NO! NO!” she screamed. She couldn’t hear that either.
Maybe it was temporary. She tried to remember what had happened.
Her mind was empty, and the quiet inside her head was unbearable—nothing but her own frightened thoughts.
She couldn’t see where she was. Was she blind too?
Something cold rested across her eyes. She lifted the cool pack with one hand and blinked, then tested her other hand by wiggling her fingers.
At least her arms and hands still worked.
Her eyelids were swollen. She could only hope that was all it was.
She tried again to reconstruct what had happened, but no recent memory surfaced—only older ones, softer and far away. She let herself drift into them for a moment.
She had followed her dream. Her parents had asked her to finish a degree first—something to fall back on—and she had, for their sake. But she’d always known what she was working toward.
She loved running. She loved pushing herself, testing herself against hard terrain and harder circumstances. She wanted to protect people, to serve. She had always been going to join the army.
Back then, her closest friend had been her neighbor, Declan. He had a dream of his own.
He wanted to play American football. To be a quarterback.
They understood each other completely. That was exactly why they had gone their separate ways.
She had loved him; she still loved him. And she knew he loved her. But they had both understood that abandoning their dreams would poison whatever they had—the resentment would come for them sooner or later.
If it was meant to be, they would find their way back to each other. And in the meantime, they had stayed in touch.
Just a message every now and then.
She would reach out to congratulate him when she saw he’d won something; he would check in to ask how she was, to remind her to take care of herself.
They had both reached their goals. He was playing professional football now.
Maybe her parents could bring him onto their team.
They had been chasing her mother’s dream for a few years—Grace had always loved American football—and so, of course, Grace had always had a soft spot for Declan. Sky smiled at the thought.
Her mother was American; her father, Felix, a successful Dutch businessman with more money than anyone needed. He had sold off half his holdings when a football team in America came up for sale.
Her mother had left America for the Netherlands for him; now they were trading places.
Sky smiled again, thinking of her parents. Felix was all business at the office, ruthlessly focused—but at home he was nothing but gentle with Grace, with her sister, and with her.
Slowly, she slipped back toward sleep, despite the pain radiating from her legs, from her knees. Her head ached too.
But she was so tired…
***
When she woke again, the medics were standing at her bedside. She realized only then that she had opened her eyes.
Everything was hazy, but it was something.
She saw Colin talking—his mouth moving, his expression intent—and the tears came instantly. She still couldn’t hear him.
“I can’t hear you,” she said, and when she couldn’t hear her own voice either, the crying only got worse.
Crying wasn’t something she did. She couldn’t remember the last time she had—not since she’d said goodbye to Declan, maybe.
Panic moved through her like a current. She tried to sit up, and the IV line pulled tight against her hand.
She focused on Colin’s lips, catching fragments. Then he made a writing motion. He sat down—he apparently had a great deal to tell her.
Shannae worked through an examination: her eyes, her ears, her blood pressure. Shannae moved to lift the sheet, but Colin stopped her with a look and a brief word—not yet—then kept writing.
Shannae nodded, her expression careful. Sky felt a wave of heat roll over her.
Something was badly wrong. Colin held the notepad out to her.
She took it quickly.
Your team was attacked, and a mortar hit close to you as you walked back to them after grabbing something from the vehicle. The rest of your team is fine.
He knew, as a soldier himself, that would be the first thing on her mind. She could just barely remember walking back to the vehicle, but not what she had retrieved—and certainly not making it back to the others.
They would have gone straight for the vehicle, of course.
You were thrown clear by the blast. The concussive force of the impact most likely damaged your cochlea—we will know more with proper imaging. We worked hard to save your legs, and we were able to preserve both knees.
You’ll be stabilized here at the field hospital. Full rehabilitation will take months—there’s a long road ahead, but you’re alive, and your knees are intact, and that matters enormously.
He wrote the way he always did—like a real medic, like someone who’d delivered hard news enough times to know you had to end somewhere positive rather than dark. It almost made her laugh.
The strange thing was that she could almost accept the legs. But not being able to hear a single thing—the total, blank silence—she already hated it with everything she had.
She cried quietly, tears running down her temples and into her hair.
“I… Talking… This…is…weird.” She shook her head, then stopped instantly—pain splintered through her skull, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Carefully, she picked up the notepad she’d set on her lap and pointed to the pen still in Colin’s hand.
I’m going to talk, but I can’t hear myself, so forgive me if it comes out strange.
“Okay, um… I don’t mind the legs as much as the ears. Is it not going to be okay?”
Colin shook his head.
Her chin dropped to her chest. “Yesterday I painted my toenails.”
Shannae caught her eye and pointed to herself—I saw that—a small, sad smile on her face.
“What even is that? Cut them off and just…set them aside?”
“Horrible.” She saw them both say it, their faces tight with emotion.
“Can I bury my legs?”
Shannae picked up the notepad and pen. I’ll talk to the captain about it. I’ve heard of soldiers doing this—it can help with processing. Shannae spoke the words aloud to Colin as she wrote. He nodded.
“Let’s do it,” Sky said.
Colin pointed out the call button on the rail of the bed, in case she needed them in the night.
“Thank you,” Sky said.
“Are you in pain, Skyler?” Shannae asked, facing her directly and speaking clearly so Sky could read her lips.
“A little. It’s manageable.” She wanted to take as little pain medication as possible—but she wasn’t the type to turn it down if it was the only way she’d actually sleep.
She opened her arms invitingly. She needed a hug from her friends. Shannae lifted the sheet to check whether the dressings still looked right.
Skyler felt as if she was looking at someone else’s legs.
She looked away, fixing her eyes on Colin instead. “Where’s my phone?” The words came out slow and thick, as if her mouth hadn’t caught up with her yet.
“Broken,” Colin said, turning to face her so she could follow.
He picked up the notepad. But we’ll get you a new one with your parents’ number already loaded. Tall Fin is transferring everything over, if all goes well.
She blew him an air kiss. “Thank you,” she said.
Tall Fin… She smiled despite herself. When they’d first been introduced, she’d assumed he was Finnish—but his name was Finley.
They’d worked alongside each other for a month, different teams running parallel operations. He was one of them now, just like Roel—who worked with sniffer dogs—and Ian, who was attached to the fire brigade.
Then there were the Graysons—possibly triplets, possibly twins and an older brother; nobody had ever gotten a straight answer—and they’d long since given up using first names.
And Devil. Damian was his real name, and those eyes of his—dark as his hair, set in skin almost unnervingly pale—vampire would honestly have suited him better.
She was going to miss them. She was going to miss Shannae and Colin.
She’d had to leave way too early. A tear slid down her cheek, and she fell asleep still crying.
***
When she woke again, her friends were gathered around the bed. For a moment—one merciful second—she forgot. Then consciousness brought the pain and the silence back together, and reality landed on her all at once.
“Being deaf does have its advantages,” she said.
She watched Devil writing, his face arranged in exaggerated mock indignation. Oh sure. Leave it to you to find an upside in this.
“At least I won’t be woken up by your snoring anymore,” she teased.
They laughed—it looked forced, but it was real.
She noticed Fin and one of the Graysons—they’d always gone by last names; it was the only way to keep them straight—were both working on notes of their own.
Fin held out the notepad first. We’ll go with you for the leg burial.
She smiled through her tears.
“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” She sent him an air kiss.
Grayson passed her his note next: Whatever you need, just say the word. We’ll make it happen.
“Nothing right now—I don’t have the energy for anything. But thank you.” She paused. “If I think of something, you’ll hear about it. It’s so strange, talking and not hearing yourself—just the vibration in my chest. I’m grateful I at least know how to speak.”
They nodded. Fin began writing again.
The moment you’re feeling up to it, we’ll come get you for the burial.
Skyler laughed. “Perfect. Hopefully it won’t be too long, or they might walk off without us.”
She loved watching those heavy, helpless expressions crack into cheerfulness.
They tried to keep the conversation going, but back-and-forth with pen and paper only stretched so far. When they saw Sky fading, they said their goodbyes with kisses on her cheek.
“I’m so glad I got to see you all. I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, her voice breaking.
“You…are…a…sweetheart,” Colin said slowly, facing her the whole time. “We…are…so…sorry…this…happened.”
She shook her head. “It’s how it goes sometimes.”
She forced a smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to get those grasshopper-like prosthetics and get back to running—back home, or in America with my parents.”
They all laughed at the image. She could see it playing out across their faces—all of them picturing her on running blades.
When they turned to leave, Fin stopped suddenly. He spun around and dug her cell phone out of his pocket.
He grabbed the notepad one last time. All your contacts are loaded in there—your parents, everyone. The app is going to make this so much easier; you can just text us. We know we can’t always respond right away, but as soon as we can, you read us. No passcode on it. I put some photos of everyone in there too—so you don’t have to miss us quite so much.
The moment she finished reading, she opened her arms again. He leaned in as far as her injuries allowed and held her close, then kissed her cheek.
“As soon…as…we…can…we’ll…come…but…until then…we text,” he said.
She nodded, and he waved all the way to the door.
