The Soldier

The scent of disinfectant reached him over the taste of bile. He reached to wipe his eyes but stopped, his hands where a mess. The blood on them felt cool he could feel it slowly moving across his skin, his stomach rolled at the thought and he could once more taste acid in his mouth. He turned to face the wall and braced himself, a thin sticky strand was all that came up. He wiped away the spittle only to taste the coppery tang of the now cool blood and quickly tried to empty his stomach once more. His eyes were squeezed shut though tears worked their way through the lids as he coughed up whatever was left.

He looked at the wall attempting to steady himself. It was white and red, white clean tile and red streaks of blood from where his hand had rested. His vision blurred and he felt dizzy, but he pushed himself away from the wall and stood. He looked to his left and saw more red and white though the sheets on the gurney were more red than white. A nurse was walking towards him, her blue scrubs seemed the only departure from the red he kept seeing everywhere. How strange he thought, how had she escaped the gore?

            Her pace towards him seemed to quicken, as she reached him standing there he started to turn and walk away, but she rushed past him, barely sparring a glance. Her scrubs made a soft swooshing noise as her footsteps echoed down the hallway. Soon she was around the corner and he was left alone. He looked along the hallway and slumped to the ground his hands in his sweat drenched hair. His eyes concentrated on the standard issue combat boots he wore. They were caked with mud. The digicam of his uniform was a mix of pixilated greens and browns. It was supposed to be the next best thing in camouflage but they’d seen us, he thought. His fingers tightened around his hair and he pulled, the pain helping him to push back the tears.

            “Corporal Mathias, Corporal Mathias, please come to info level one, your pickup is here.” The voice blared in a dull tone over the hospital’s PA. He sat there a moment longer before getting to his feet. He pushed himself up along the wall until he was standing. A tremor ran down his spine and into his legs threatening to push him back to the floor, but he pushed off from the wall and took one shaky step after another. He walked along the hallway in the opposite direction of the nurse. He passed a metal double door and stopped for a moment, there was a handprint imposed in drying blood on the doors. The lights inside had been left on, he looked through the glass and could see the operating room, blood covered the table and on the floor there were the stripped remains of a uniform not unlike his own.