The Bullet's Mark (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3 Fanfiction)

Prologue

The warm blood that soaked my uniform was sticky mixed with sand. Blood traveled to the rusted figure of an old car, fighting with the chipped rust spots as it poured about. Blood also ran up to my hair and my face, stuck against the hard ground.
I felt my impending death as I rested there, splayed out on my stomach like a figure at a crime scene. The sun beating down was harsh on the side of my face, chapping my lips and sucking every ounce of moisture it could; it dried the blood too quickly. The wound pulsing violently on my thigh was still gushing blood.
Any moment now.
I was surprised I'd lasted the full hour I had. At this point, I could hear my heart slow as it struggled to pump against the sand. My vision was so blurry, I couldn't even make out the blood stains in front of me nor the dead body also resting in the sand. My hands felt heavy, a twitch of any single finger impossible.
A loud pounding against the ground started from behind me. It was a collected beat of ba-da-dum, ba-da-dum over and over again. As it neared close enough to hit me, the sound stopped entirely.
"Samantha," someone spoke in a soft, manly voice.
I mentally shifted my body to turn to see who it was. Instead, my eyes could only make out a hand coming down to check my pulse on my wrist.
"This the woman?" an accented voice wondered, acting as a second hand to brush back my ponytail and lift my head. "She's almost dead."
"She's still very much alive. Get her in."
"Yes, but chances of her living are low, sir," the other voice concluded.
"I don't care about chances."
My body was lifted carefully and I felt the odd feeling of cool felt below me. When I forced my eyes open, everything was blurry except for the face of a person looking down at me.
"It's going to be okay Sam. You're going to be okay."
"Roach?" my voice was a mere whisper, a croak of pain.
The person didn't respond as the ground beneath me started moving. Holding my head with one arm, the other controlled the bouncy movement.
I really must be in the middle of life or death. But Roach...he's gone.
My head slumped to the side and I smelled a toxic scent of gunpowder and metal. The person leaning over my body gently shook me and then let out a frustrated grunt.
"We're losing her!"
"Then do something about it," came a threatening hiss.
"Roach," I croaked again, twisting as his face started to move from view.
"Why did you have to split us up?" he shook his head in a grumble as he moved out of the way of busy hands.
"You're dead," I spat in my head, blinking through spotted vision. "So I must be too."
From what I could make of his face, it turned darker and more angry. "Oh no, Sam. You're going through hell."
With his comment and the disappearance of his face entirely, I felt the sharp jab of a needle in my bicep. I screeched to the pain and tried to claw at my attacker.
Until everything disappeared.

✧~✧~✧

This is the sequel to The Bullet's Mark! If you haven't read that yet then this probably won't make sense.
Just like the first one, this book will be updated every Monday :)
Hope y'all enjoy!
~MS~