"How much farther?"
"We're almost there sweetheart."
By 'there' Carrie had no idea. But she hoped it was some sort of civilization. Because she was tired of being stuck in this damned desert.
"I hate sand," she told her husband once again as she trudged behind him.
"You've told me."
She hated sand a lot more now than before they left. The stuff got everywhere. Now that they only had the clothes on their bodies, she could feel it in her books from all this walking, and down her back from sleeping in it. The worst part was when the wind blew. She and Harrison would be rewarded with the familiar grainy taste of sand. It wasn't the soft beach sand. It was the stuff that hurt when it was blown in a sandstorm.
After another hour of walking they took another break to refill their canteens. With this heat they couldn't make it very far without stopping for water.
While Harrison went for a refill, Carrie laid back on the ground and watched the clouds rush by the block the sun.
✎✎✎
Carrie took cover behind a building with the rest of SEAL team 6. They were pinned down by Iraqis insurgents with help on the way. If only they could hold out a little longer.
There were still a few of them out in the open, seeking cover behind the tanks. It was then when Carrie saw her best friend go down. She ran out into the open while covering herself as she made her way over to the tank where her best friend lay.
All of a sudden, she felt a searing pain come from her foot. The next step she took on her left foot resulted in even more pain and was enough to take her down. She quickly scrambled behind the tank.
Carrie was too late. Her best friend Jess was already gone. She looked down at her foot. She'd been shot right on the inside of her left foot. Carrie felt herself become nauseous when she saw the tip of the bullet peeking out the other side of her foot.
More gunfire bounced of the metal tanks followed by the sound of a grenade. She looked over her shoulder to see the tank nearest to the right side of the street go up in flames.
Just as she heard the grenade bounce off the tank she was hiding behind, a pair of strong arms picked her up and tackled her into an alleyway that was controlled by Navy SEAL's. Moments later that very same tank exploded.
She owed her life to that man or woman who currently shielded her body as they returned fire. After a few very long minutes, the gunfire died down, and Carrie faced the person who'd saved her life for the very first time.
Carrie momentarily forgot about the pain in her foot once she saw him. He was very good-looking. He had hazel eyes and brown hair which was just a shade lighter than her own.
She stared longer than she intended. Once he laughed Carrie looked away. "Sorry."
He smiled. It was the first real smile she'd seen on anyone in the military in months. And it made her glad to be the one that caused it.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Carrie."
"Well Carrie, we need to get you out of here."
That snapped her back into reality. She looked down at her injured foot, very surprised to see it out of her boot and wrapped up with a towel.
"What's your name?" She asked.
As she waited for his response, Carrie realized she'd seen him before. She had talked to him a few times in the past. He was in her basic training and they were on their third tour together. She thought his name was Harold or something.
"I'm Harrison," he answered. "And we really need to get you out of here."
Harrison picked her up onto his back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her all the way back to their transports when she was then taken to receive medical attention.
✎✎✎
Carrie opened her eyes. "Where am I?" She asked the person sitting in the room.
"You're in a hospital in Los Angeles," that same husky voice she remembered answered.
Her eyes came into focus. There he was. Harrison was wearing a blue Los Angeles Dodgers hat with a white t-shirt and blue athletic shorts. He looked very good.
To distract herself from the handsome man sitting in front of her, Carrie asked, "why am I here?"
"You got shot remember? They brought you back here for emergency surgery. It was close to home."
"Why are you here?" She asked rather rudely.
"Maybe because I care," he snapped back. "Your mom is over in London filming some new movie. Someone needs to take care of you until she gets back."
Carrie looked at her foot. "I'm sorry."
Harrison stood up. "I know."
Before he could leave, she stopped him. "Aren't you supposed to still be over there?"
He shook his head. "That was the end of my tour. Since I took care of you, I figured I'd see you home. You don't live to far away from me. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to get you out of here."
Carrie watched him go. 'Why was he acting like this?' She asked herself.
Her wandering eyes settled on her foot. It was in a boot instead of a cast. That way the doctors could keep track of the healing process without having to remove a cast every time.
Harrison came back a few minutes later with a nurse. Soon she was loaded into a wheelchair and was being pushed out to his truck.
He helped her into the passenger seat. "Where are you taking me?" She asked.
"To my house. Unless you want me to take you home."
Carrie shook her head. It was late. He didn't need to be driving around and following her lousy directions back to her house.
It was only a few minutes before they pulled into his driveway. She was about to crutch her way into his house when he picked her up effortlessly and carried her inside. Such a gentleman.
He set her gently on the couch before asking what she'd like for dinner. When she didn't answer right away, he started on spaghetti and meatballs.
As he cooked, Carrie crutched her way around his small home. It was very simple. And she loved it. It was a ranch house, only having one bathroom, and two bedrooms. One bedroom was his while the other was converted into a small workout room.
She eventually made her way back into the living room as he finished dinner. Her foot was throbbing once again, so she took her medicine and propped her foot up on a pillow.
Harrison brought two bowls of spaghetti over. He handed a bowl to her before gently picking up her foot and sitting underneath, allowing her to rest her boot on his lap.
"Why did you join the army?" She asked him.
He finished chewing a meatball before answering. "It was something I dreamed of since I was little. I saw it in movies. I knew I wanted to be on the special operations team. I wanted to do top secret missions. But I also want to protect the people I love. So fighting for my country is how I do that. I fight for their freedom as well as the millions of people live in the country we call home."
Carrie took another bite. "What about you?" He asked.
She shrugged. "I'm an outdoorsy kid of person. I can't live the Hollywood life my mom does. For me, I had a friend when I was younger whose parents were both in the military. Her dad used to take me hunting more than he took his own daughter. Eventually when deciding on colleges, I decided I wanted to join the military. Like you, I wanted to serve my country and protect those I love."
They talked for an hour about the military and everything they'd been through. Once he cleaned up the dishes, he came to sit by her again.
"Why are you taking care of me?" Carrie wondered. He'd been so hospitable and she had no idea why.
"Because it's something I have to do."
"Why do you have to do it?"
Harrison swallowed. "It's getting late."
"Yeah."
He stood up. Carrie couldn't help but notice he avoided her question. "You can take my room. I'll take the couch."
Harrison carried her to his room and waited outside as she changed into one of his shirts and sweatpants. Once she opened the door, he picked her up and gently set her on his side of the bed. He stuffed a pillow under her foot and pulled the covers up around her.
"Goodnight Carrie."
"Harrison?"
"Yeah."
"I don't want to kick you out of your own bed."
He smiled. "It's fine sweetheart. Unless you want me to sleep with you."
Harrison was surprised when she patted the vacant space next to her. "Get your ass over here."
"Yes ma'am."
He crawled under the covers next to her. "Why did you avoid my question earlier?" She asked. "You can tell me. Why are you taking care of me?"
"When I saved you, I looked into your eyes and I felt something spark between us. I don't know how to describe it, but I feel it. I feel it when I'm around you."
"I feel it too."
"You what?"
Carrie smiled. "I feel it too."
"You do?"
She nodded. Before he could say anything else, she turned to face him. Her foot throbbed from the sudden movement but she didn't care. Carrie pressed her lips to his.
✎✎✎
Carrie sat against his chest. "What's wrong sweetheart?"
She continued to stare out into the horizon. "I was just thinking about how we met. We met in this desert. And we're going to die in this desert."
Harrison ran his fingers through her long hair. "We're not going to die here. Have hope. Believe we can pull the impossible off."
She thought about what he said. "Hope," she whispered to herself. Hope would get them through this. And it would get them back to their daughter soon.