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He stopped by his wall locker on the way back out and emptied the box of the last granola bar that was left. The bar had crumbled in the bag. He opened it from the top and poured the grains into his mouth. Tessa always sent this health food crap in packages now. It wasn’t always this way. In the early days the care boxes were full of cheese whiz and candy. But the garbage on ship and too many MREs were taking their toll on his gut and he knew this was her way of saying she cared. When I get home, I’m grilling some big, juicy steaks.
Landon pulled out the folded letter that came with the box on their last mail drop. It was only a short love note, but he read through it again. This was a better message than the last email she’d sent. He focused on those three words “I love you,” knowing those were the ones she really meant. Whatever happened that night she emailed him wasn’t important.
“Not you too.” Sgt. Sierra peeked over Landon’s shoulder. His elbow jerked back reflexively, but he caught himself before he knocked Sierra to the deck.
“Dude, don’t sneak up on people like that.” Landon folded the letter and tucked it away.
Sgt. Sierra chuckled. “Sorry to interrupt your me time, Doc, but have you seen Martinez anywhere? Chief Elyse stopped me in the hanger bay asking about him.”
“Why is she getting involved in this? I was looking for him earlier but couldn’t find him either.”
Sgt. Sierra blew out a heavy breath. “Guess we get to play hide-n-seek.”
“Yeah.” Landon closed his locker, a sense of urgency pushing him forward. “Guess so.”
They searched the berthing and the mess deck before climbing to the hanger bay. Each shake of the head when they asked if anyone had seen Martinez brought a cold sweat down Landon’s back. Sgt. Sierra organized two more search teams of privates and lance corporals. They didn’t want to get Martinez in trouble with the higher enlisted if this was some kind of misunderstanding, but every second that ticked by was a second closer to the inevitable.
“Hey, I heard you’re missing a guy.” HM3 Cooper bumped into Landon as he climbed down the ladder well to retrace his steps. “And Chief Elyse is looking for both of you.”
Landon cursed under his breath. “If you see her, let her know that I’ll bring Martinez up to medical as soon as I grab him.”
He checked the berthing again, pulling back every curtain to make sure Martinez wasn’t asleep somewhere he shouldn’t be and then backtracked toward the mess deck, searching each Marine’s face as they passed in the corridor. His pulse was racing, blood thrumming against his eardrums, but he tried not to give in to the rising panic as he kept asking if anyone had seen him.
“Someone’s crying in the head,” a corporal mentioned in the passageway when Landon stopped him. He looked over his shoulder, locking eyes with Sgt. Sierra, and both men took off running.
Time slowed and Landon could feel each pounding beat of his heart as he ripped open the hatch to the head. His boots slapped against the damp floors when he raced inside. “Martinez!” It was too quiet, soul crushing quiet, and his voice echoed back to him from the steel walls.
“Did you find him?” Sgt. Sierra called out breathlessly. Landon didn’t stop to answer. An empty mop bucket skid out from the shower stall, the hollow thump as it rolled over ringing too loud in the silent room.
“Martinez!” Landon screamed and lunged forward. He caught the sway of the corporal’s body mid-swing as it dangled from the pipe above the showers with the repel rope wrapped around his neck. His muscles screamed in protest as he hoisted Martinez above his head to release the tension.
“Cut the rope and get him down,” he cried through clenched teeth and shifted the weight of the body onto his shoulders and his head. Sgt. Sierra grabbed the bucket and turned it upright, using his pocket knife to saw at the fibers of the rope.
“He’s clear, Doc.”
Landon didn’t feel the release, but he lowered Martinez now, cradling him in his arms as if he were a child. He glanced up at Sgt. Sierra’s tear-streaked face and felt the moisture on his own cheeks.
“What happened?” A crowd of Marines were gathering around, filling the small space.
Landon laid Martinez on the deck and his fingers moved swiftly to find the corporal’s steady pulse. Anger welled inside of him, turning his vision red. He grabbed Martinez by his shoulders. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Martinez’s eyes flew open and he started to cough, but the words continued to rush from Landon’s lips, “This is how you want your kid to remember you? You would leave her, leave your family like this? They need you.”
“Doc, are you okay?” Sgt. Sierra dropped to his knees and placed his hand on Landon’s back. LCpl Martinez stared up wide-eyed from the shower floor, seeing everything and saying nothing.
“I’m fine.” Landon shoved him off as he checked the neck for swelling and watched for the even rise and fall of the lance corporal’s chest. “Help me get him up and take him to medical. Martinez, can you walk?” The lance corporal looked at him blankly, but there were no physical signs that he couldn’t speak.
“You’re fine,” Landon snapped. “Are you going to make us carry you?”
Martinez coughed, pushing himself to his elbows. “No HM2. I can walk.”
His fists stayed clenched at his sides as he marched the patient through the ship. He should have called in a medical emergency. He should have found him sooner. I’m going to be in deep sh…
“You got this?” Sgt. Sierra fell behind as they got closer to medical. Landon nodded and he slipped away.
“I’m sorry,” Martinez whispered. His face was covered with a sickly sheen of sweat. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
Landon swallowed back his anger and tried to sound more compassionate. “It was a dumb plan. We all miss our families, but how can you take care of them if you’re dead?”
“They’re going to discharge me now, aren’t they?” His breath hitched in his throat and he started backing up toward the bulkhead, reaching for something to cling to.
