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THE WORLD WAS BLACK. There were no sounds. There was no light.
I couldn't even feel anything until searing pain shot up through my body. It reached every corner of every inch of every part of my body, leaving nothing unscathed from its touch.
Immediately following, I felt an aching sensation coming from my left arm. As if in slow motion, I slowly shifted it towards me. Another surge of pain echoed throughout my body and I scrunched up my face in agony.
The rest of my senses started returning and I could begin to hear the sounds around me.
"...going to make it?"
"...yes..."
Blurry images filled with specks of light appeared in my line of vision as I tried to lift my eyelids.
"...Private Canary..."
The stiff voice continued saying something else but I couldn't hear it. Jumbled nonsense filled my head as I prayed to just wake up and have the pain go away.
I'd make it. Which I could, thankfully, gather from the voices around me. As time went on, I could feel myself getting better. I didn't know what they were doing to me, or how long I was out, with only slight perspectives into the world around me, but eventually I could open my eyes.
I blinked once. And then twice.
"Private Canary."
A woman's face came into view and I quickly put the pieces together. It was Reznik. Never had I been so happy to see her.
"Sir," I mumbled.
"You had quite the fright," she said. "But Private Zombie seemed to get you back in time. You'll be fine and ready to go out into the field again in no time."
I just found myself nodding, too exhausted to ask her about going out into the field again. At this point I couldn't even fathom standing up, let alone shooting or fighting again.
"You were only out for a couple hours," she said. "You'll have to talk to Voche soon. Private Zombie is in the control room talking with him now."
A couple hours? It had felt like an eternity.
I nodded, moving to sit myself up.
I could feel my hair clinging to the sides of my face, drenched in sweat and all its glory. I had been dressed in a hospital gown, and my leg and arm had been wrapped in gauze. My blood had already managed to creep through its protective barrier and now the gauze was wet to the touch. I pulled the bed sheets over it, not wanting to look at it any longer.
"Do you remember anything?" Reznik asked suddenly. Her tone was etched with curiosity...and something else that I couldn't quite make out.
I slowly shook my head 'yes'. Yes, I did remember. I remembered everything. I remembered Oompa dying, the sound of shots ringing through the air, the cold bitter air flying past us as our feet thumped hard against the pavement. I remembered the sound of glass breaking and the pain of my body colliding with the floor below me.
