Different factions.
That’s dangerous.
Because when armed groups start fighting each other, civilians get crushed in the middle.
One of the guards storms toward me suddenly.
“You. Doctor.”
I look up from the little boy’s bandaged arm.
The guard’s jaw is tight with pain.
Blood soaks heavily through the side of his tactical vest.
Well.
That explains why I’m still alive.
“You help now.”
Not exactly asking.
I stand slowly anyway.
Because refusing treatment gets me nowhere.
The wounded guard leads me toward a smaller office area near the back of the warehouse while another armed man watches me the entire time with his rifle raised.
Inside the office, two more injured men sit against the wall.
One unconscious.
One barely conscious.
Neither looks good.
I crouch beside the closest one automatically.
Entry wound high in the abdomen.
No exit wound.
Internal bleeding most likely.
Without surgery?
He’s dead.
The second man has shrapnel buried deep across his shoulder and neck.
Still conscious though.
Still glaring at me like I’m the enemy.
Which—
Fair.
