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“If she’s got a favorite brand, you could always send her something from there? Like my mother loves her Coach purse – but doesn’t need another one, because she’s picky about the size and color. So my dad gets her an umbrella from the store to match for Christmas instead. My sister will get a keychain from there, my brother gets a scarf, my other brother gets her some perfume from there, and then my oldest…”
“How many Becks are in the bushel?”
“Funny, Selkirk,” she said, laughing. “There’s a lot of us, and I’m just trying to give out ideas.”
“I appreciate them.”
“No, you don’t,” Talbot chimed in, teasing him.
“Yeah, I do – because they aren’tyourideas. And why is it so blasted hot out today? I’m gonna have grill marks on my hide…”
“It’s a little muggy…”
“It’s a freakin’ sauna in this litterbox. Can we please go home now, papa? I’ll be good,” Ian chirped mockingly, and heard everyone laugh again. “I’ll do my homework and clean my room. I promise.”
“Yeah, we’re about done here today. Let’s head out.”
It was another mile back to the truck in this heat and by the time Ian took his seat, his feet were throbbing, his back was covered in sweat under his pack, and his helmet felt like a cast iron skillet fresh out of the oven. Plopping down heavily on a bench in the truck, he let out his breath, and was grateful for the small amount of stifling shade.
A bottle of water was shoved at him – and he glanced up to see Beck was handing them out to everyone. Accepting it, he gulped down almost half gratefully, before speaking up as everyone took their seats.
“So, are you coming on the next one too, Doc?” Ian asked, because it was nice to be treated politely – and Minors had never handed them water to make sure they were okay.
“She’s not as mouthy as Minors, and a sure lot prettier.”
“Minorsismean,” Ian said bluntly, shaking his water bottle pointedly as he raised an eyebrow.
“Because you told him that ‘having your back’ meant he was going to be called your ‘golf caddy’ for the afternoon when you put a ‘hole in one’, Selkirk.”
“Hey! I put a hole in one… just before he put a hole in me!” Ian joked, grinning as he finished his water bottle.
That day had been awful – and much like today. He had been so dehydrated and felt so dizzy, that he’d asked Minors, who was the only one not carrying anything at the time, to take his bag. When the man smarted off, so did Ian… right before a rebel jumped out of an alley, aiming at him.
Just as Ian was about to ask for another bottle of water? Morrison’s dog yelped loudly, and Ian was suddenly airborne. He didn’t even have time to think as he was violently ejected from the truck like a bad swan dive.
It all happened so fast he didn’t even have time to brace himself or roll with it… as a piece of metal hit him – hard. A car door imbedded in the sand not a foot from his head with a mind-numbing ‘thump’ that rattled his teeth. He lay there, gasping painfully, trying to get his breath back and shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears as he realized the truck had exploded.
Ian scrambled several times to get to his feet and felt the world lurch sideways, almost making him vomit there in the sand. Something hit his head hard – but as he tried to focus on the truck that was now laying on its side. He saw the chaos, and heard the sound of shouts… staggering forward, and trying not to drop from the vertigo washing over him.
He saw Keyes and Beck hunkered down behind something, as others were pulling themselves from the wreckage. He saw a body in the distance sticking out, half-buried under the truck, and nearly vomited again.
Someone was dead.
“MORRISON! WE’VE GOT HOSTILES COMING IN HOT,” Keyes screamed out as Ian shook his head again, trying to clear it as the other man swung up his rifle – aiming. They were going to die out here if he didn’t pull his weight to help protect their squad. Staggering forward, he drew his gun and was trying to calm the hysteria that he saw on Morrison, Beck, and Keyes’ faces.
“You don’t have to all surrender at once, you know…” Ian hollered in a sing-song voice, waving at the men in the distance running towards them with rifles, shovels, and homemade Molotov cocktails.
“One at a time,” Ian continued, trying to keep from fear seizing all of them as he wiped the blood off his face. There looked to be almost a hundred men preparing to rush them, and three men with one medic were not going to be able to stave them off. “You can surrenderone at a time… it’s probably better that way, too!”
“Let me see you,” Beck ordered – rising upwards to her feet.
She was going to get herself killed,he thought wildly.
“It’s just a scratch. I’m fine… and get down!”
Ian shoved her hand away and grabbed her by the pack, before yanking her bodily down behind the truck. He looked up again and frowned.
It was about to get messy.
