By the time Annie got down to the shoreline, everything and everyone was in complete and utter pandemonium. Vest was shouting at the Krauts and waving his gun in their faces, threatening to shoot them. Martin was holding Vest back, telling him that if he shot one they would have to back for more. Jackson was screaming, Ramirez was struggling to get the injured boy out of the boat, Babe was calling for a medic, and Margot was lying limp in his arms.
Gunfire was still flying from both sides of the river with the occasional mortar going off—which side it was from usually unclear.
Perconte was by Annie's side, trying to help the men out of the boats the best he could. "Medic!" Babe cried out once more as he dragged Margot onto the dirt. At that point, the woman was more in shock than anything. Her green eyes were glassy and distant and her face was pale. All of her colour had drained away along with any sign of emotion, almost as if she had left part of herself back on the German side of the water.
"Margot." Annie rushed to her friend's aid, her attention still split between the woman and Jackson. "What happened?"
"Grenade blast." Martin overheard the question and answered before anyone else had the chance. "Jackson went in too early. Margot tried to save him."
Annie looked down at her friend for a moment, barely able to recognize her under the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on her skin. She looked empty, a shell of a person. With one loud, sudden cough, Margot spat out more of the blood that had collected in her mouth. "I tried," she finally spoke, proving that there was indeed still some life left behind those sunken eyes.
"I know." Annie pushed some of Margot's hair back behind her ear before standing up again. "Okay, I want all the wounded inside right now! Someone go and get Eugene."
Perconte nodded and rushed off to locate the other Easy medic. As his footfalls grew quieter and quieter, Margot was scooped up into Babe's arms once more and rushed into the nearest building and down to the basement.
Inside the confines of the cement basement, the frantic yelling was much louder, the voices bouncing off of the walls and echoing around. Margot watched out of the corner of her eye as the men who had been sitting and talking jumped up when Ramirez placed Jackson down onto the wooden table.
Martin was still barking orders, directing Popeye to take the Kraut prisoners to the back of the room. Every few seconds though, the on-edge Sergeant glanced back at his fellow patrol leader, a deep desire burning inside of him; a desire to make all of her pain go away. If he could go back and change how it had all happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.
Babe searched the room for somewhere to put Margot down, his arms beginning to ache from holding her. At the same time, however, he never wanted to let her go. As long as she was in his arms, she was safe. She was okay.
Jumping down the steps two at a time behind the rest of the patrol group, Annie darted to Jackson's side and dropped her medic bag down beside his body. "Hi there, Jackson," she greeted, her eyes flickering up to check on Margot, who was on one of the smaller counters, her body still cradled in Babe's arms. She prayed Eugene would get there soon and tend to her because she couldn't be in two places at once and Jackson had gotten the brunt of the grenade frag.
Jackson's mouth fell open as he gasped for breath, his entire torso lifting off of the table as he writhed in pain. Annie was trying to soothe him as she worked but the jumbled voices of both German and English were so loud that she could barely even hear herself think.
"Webster." Annie looked up at the man across the table from her. "You have to help hold him down. I can't do anything while he's squirming like this."
Webster nodded, for once not trying to get out of completing a task. "Jackson, listen to me." He grabbed the smaller man hard by the shoulders. "You have to calm down or we can't help you."
"He's gonna fucking die!" Vest began blurting out over and over again. "He's gonna fucking die!"
"Will you shut up?!" Annie snapped at the panicked man to her right, her hands moving to push Jackson down onto the table. "You're not helping!"
Jackson looked up at Annie, blood sputtering from his mouth as he coughed. Just like Margot, only one side of his face had been hit—but it was worse, much worse. His skin had turned sheet-white and it looked like it might fall off at the simplest touch. Annie had nothing in her bag to treat this type of wound and no knowledge of how extensive the injuries were. Had his throat been sliced open by shrapnel? Was he bleeding out internally?
Like always, Annie was met with more questions than answers and was left feeling her way around in the metaphorical—and due to the poor lighting, slightly literal—darkness.
"Look at me, Jackson." Annie pulled out a cloth from among her supplies and started gently dabbing away the blood. "I need you to calm down, alright? I need you to take some deep breaths so I can help you."
Suddenly, there was a loud growl, and Annie caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Jones bolting from one side of the room to the other. There was a commotion going on with the German POWs, and of course, Vest was in the middle of it. Margot had been right when she said she didn't trust the ill-experienced mailman with a gun. Margot was usually right about things like that, that was what made her a good leader.
When Eugene came barreling down the staircase, Annie felt a weight lift from her shoulders. "Eugene, thank God!" she cried out, her head turning to check on Margot once more. She was comforted by the sight of the woman still seemingly doing fine.
Babe was sitting atop the counter, his partner in his arms, his hand stroking her head in a calming rhythm while he looked down at her. His mouth was moving ever so slightly, indicating that he was speaking to her in a hushed voice.
"Eugene, help me here." Annie made the split-second decision that Jackson needed the extra help more than Margot.
When the Cajun medic appeared beside Annie, the situation suddenly got a lot easier to deal with. Eugene's large hands grabbed Jackson's head as he examined the wounds, and for the first time, Jackson seemed to calm down a little.
The young man laid semi-still, his breathing laboured and followed by faint gurgling sounds. Placing two fingers inside Jackson's mouth, Eugene tilted the boy's head back and opened his jaw as wide as it could go. Like clockwork, Annie reached into her pocket for her flashlight and shone it down Jackson's throat.
As the room fell silent, everyone waiting to hear what the medics had to say, Jackson's rugged breathing turned to fearful sobs. After a few seconds, Eugene looked up at Annie, his facial expression providing her with all the information she needed. It wasn't good.
"Alright, let's get him out of here." Eugene turned and motioned for the men to bring over the stretcher.
Sliding their hands underneath Jackson's body, Annie and Eugene slowly began to transfer him. "I don't wanna die!" Jackson spoke for the first time, his dark irises shifting from medic to medic. "I don't wanna die!"
"You're not going to die," the white lie slipped past Annie's lips far easier than she was comfortable with. In all honesty, she had no idea if Jackson would die or not, but she was well aware that she was in no position to promise life to anyone.
As Annie and Eugene slowly carried the stretcher towards the stairs, an explosion hit nearby, shaking the foundation of the building and sprinkling dust and other small debris down on them. Crouching down, the medics put Jackson on the floor to wait for the attack to pass.
Jackson was crying by then, but in a drastic turn of events, his face turned beet-red and he started to convulse. His eyes screwed shut as he started gagging. Annie moved to the boy's side and held his head in her hands. "I'm gonna die!" he sputtered before a bone-chilling gurgling sound erupted from his throat.
"Jackson!" Annie tried to hold him as still as possible, but with one final gasp, the boy fell still, his eyes rolling back as his head lolled to the side. Annie watched as his Adam's apple bobbed one final time, swallowing the blood in his mouth and throat before all bodily functions ceased.
He was dead.
Annie sat back on her haunches and looked up at the rest of the men. Everyone was still, almost as still as Jackson. She didn't have to say anything. The sickening silence in the dingy basement spoke louder than words ever could.
With a defeated sigh, Martin grabbed a blanket from one of the men and draped it over Jackson's body.
Annie closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in deep breaths and composing herself before returning once more to reality. When the deafening silence subsided, the blonde medic picked up on the soft, barely audible mumblings of Babe Heffron, who was oblivious to the situation at hand. Every ounce of his attention was on Margot.
Standing up, Annie dusted her uniform off and made her way over to the counter. Now wasn't the time to slack off. She couldn't lose two lives in one night. She couldn't lose Margot.
Eugene joined Annie, and in perfect teamwork, the medics worked on Margot. Compared to Jackson, the woman's injuries were minor, but she had still suffered some pretty bad wounds. While Annie checked the rest of her friend's body for any hidden lacerations or punctures, Eugene tended to the shrapnel cuts, some of which were pretty deep.
For a split second, Eugene had worried that the machine-gunner had sustained the same type of wound as Jackson due to the amount of blood in her mouth, but he soon realized that the culprit was a few pieces of shrapnel that had pierced clean through her cheek. Mouth wounds bled a lot, but usually, they were nothing to worry about.
"See, I told ya you were gonna be just fine." Babe smiled down at Margot, his puffy, dark eyes portraying the worry that had plagued him for what had felt like hours on end. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya. Bill and Joe would kill me if I did. They'd escape from the hospital and hop here on one leg just to slap me upside the head a couple hundred times."
The corners of Margot's mouth curled into a faint smile and the sight brought a wave of relief over the redheaded man.
As the Cajun medic moved his way up Margot's face, he spotted something that worried him. Right beside her left eye was a puncture much deeper than he liked. It seemed to expand just past the bone and into the eye socket, and upon further inspection, he could see blood by the corner of her eyeball.
Eugene cleared his throat slightly. "Margot," he spoke to her, gaining her attention. "Can you look at me a moment."
Slowly, Margot turned her head and stared back at the medic. Eugene inspected the right eye, and then the left. They seemed to be the same, but he had to check just in case. Raising one hand, Eugene placed it over Margot's right eye. "Margot, can you see me?"
Babe and Annie watched on, confused at first, but growing more and more concerned as the time passed by. Had a piece of shrapnel lodged itself in Margot's eyes? Had her eyesight been affected? Was she blind in one eye?
Margot blinked a few times, the seconds in between each one seeming to drag on. "Yes," she answered plainly.
Eugene exhaled with relief, as did Babe and Annie. "Okay, good girl." Eugene smiled sweetly. "In that case, I'd say you're gonna be just fine. You are going to need some stitches though, so we should probably send you to the-"
"No." Margot waved her hand at Eugene and turned her body toward Babe. "No hospital."
Eugene and Annie shared a look. Annie had been down this road with Margot before, and by God, she wasn't about to do it again. "Margot." Annie placed a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Remember what you said about not going to the hospital last time being a foolish idea? Remember how much pain you were in for weeks? We don't have to stay there long, just a quick visit to get you some stitches. I'll even come with you."
"No." Margot refused once more, her hand grabbing at the fabric of Babe's jacket for security.
Eugene sighed before trying his hand at the persuasion game. "Margot, the hospital isn't going to kill you."
"No!" Margot peered up at Babe, her eyes locking with his as she let out a single sob. "Please, don't make me go," she pleaded with the man who had kept her safe thus far. "The stories ... what Bill and Joe told me ... I can't go. I won't go."
Babe froze. His head filled with flashbacks of Foy, of when Margot lost herself completely in her fear and broke down. He was seeing that now, or at least, the beginning of that. The flash of terror in her eyes was enough to make him want to punch the two medics out, even though he never would. They were only trying to help, and deep down he knew that.
Annie sensed the tension rising and tried her best to ease her friend's worries. "Margot, please, just-"
"Damnit, she said no!" Babe snapped out of nowhere, startling both Annie and Eugene as his arms wrapped tighter around Margot. "She said no," he repeated, this time calmer and more rational. "She'll be okay without stitches. She'll be okay."
"Babe-" Annie started.
"I'll stay with her." Babe offered. "I'll watch her. She'll be okay."
Defeated, Annie turned to Eugene and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Let him stay with her." She had been drained of all the fight she had left in her for one evening. "I'll clean up the wounds as best I can."
Eugene's eye shifted from Margot to Babe to Annie. "Okay," he reluctantly agreed. "Call me if you need a hand, yeah?"
"I will." Annie nodded.
After Eugene left, Annie pulled up a chair and worked silently on Margot's face, being as careful as she could with each gash while still making sure to be as thorough as possible. As the minutes passed, Margot slowly started to emerge from behind her mental wall, and before long, she was back to her normal self.
Babe was thrilled to see his partner back, and as the raven-haired woman moved from his arms to sit beside him, the two started talking as if nothing had ever happened. Annie, on the other hand, was growing more and more irritated by the incessant chattering. She tried to search her heart for the love she had for Margot, but at that moment all she could find was anger. Anger and resentment.
The woman was gradually becoming more and more reckless. Throwing herself in front of grenades, refusing to go to the hospital, mentally checking out completely. She was becoming not only a danger to herself but to the rest of the company as well.
"I'm done," Annie stated, standing up and gathering her things without another word.
Margot could sense the stress in the medic, but she had no idea just how deep the outrage ran. "Thank you." She smiled.
"Yeah."
Jumping down off of the counter, Margot and Babe followed Annie upstairs to where some of the men were lounging in the bunk beds and enjoying hot cups of coffee. By then, the sun had risen and it was the next morning. Everyone had heard about the patrol. Everyone had heard about Jackson.
Crossing the threshold first, Annie made a beeline for the pot of coffee and poured herself a mug. She needed something to take the edge off, and since she didn't drink or smoke, coffee was the next best thing.
When Margot entered the room, the men couldn't help but stare at her face. Malarkey's conscience filled with guilt as he took in the sight of his fellow platoon leader. He felt bad for deciding to stay back. He couldn't help but tell himself that he should have offered to go instead.
"Babe told me I'm still as beautiful as ever." Margot flashed a smirk as she recalled the words her partner had spoke to her back when she had been lying on the floor of the Kraut building. "So, you guys looking at me like I'm some kind of monster does nothing to my self-esteem."
"You look tough." Malarkey took note of the dried blood on the collar of her ODs.
Margot chuckled a little, the feeling of being herself again filling her with the hope she had briefly lost throughout the night. "Next time I'll be sure to get the other side then," she joked. "Even it out."
Annie slammed her mug down hard on the table, the hot liquid spilling over the sides a little. She couldn't take it anymore—the laughing, the joking, the small talk. How could they all just stand there and pretend like a man hadn't just died hours ago? How could Margot stand there and pretend like she hadn't just died hours ago?
"Enough!" the small medic blurted out, the outburst surprising even her. The room dropped into a state of eerie silence, heads turning toward the upset girl. "How can you laugh off the death of a man? A man ..." she scoffed. "He was twenty years old! He was a boy! He was one of us!"
Margot was taken aback by the raw emotion seeping from her friend. Usually, the small blonde kept her feelings inside, just like everyone else. Usually, she was one to laugh off a hard time along with everyone else. Usually, she didn't yell unless she absolutely needed to.
"Annie." Margot took a step forward, her hand held out to try and calm her. "Everything's okay. There's no need to-"
"You don't get to talk!" Annie jabbed her pointer finger toward the taller woman, her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows furrowed. "You don't get to tell me everything's okay when you go out of your way time and time again to put yourself at risk! You're a reckless mess and I'm tired of cleaning up after you. I'm tired of worrying about you."
The men turned to Margot, waiting for her response. The woman was silent for a while, the tension thick in the air as she tried to process what was happening. Annie had never yelled at her before. Annie had never even been mad at her before, as far as she knew.
The lack of a reply made Annie even more furious, and before she could stop herself, she was yelling again. "You keep doing this, over and over again. You keep acting before thinking and then I'm left to put your broken pieces back together again. Well, you know what? I'm done! I'm done begging you to go to the hospital. I'm done watching you sit up all night in pain because you refuse to listen to me. I'm done feeling sick to my stomach worrying about you. I'm done! So, go ahead. Throw yourself in front of as many grenades as you want. It's not going to fix anything. It's not going to bring Bill or Joe back."
Annie regretted her final words as soon as they left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back. They had been said. They were out there for everyone in the room to hear.
Margot's breathing hitched and she swallowed hard. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks but she refused to shed even a single tear in front of the men. Spinning on her heel, the raven-haired woman stormed out of the room. Her footsteps could be heard on the creaky, wooden floorboards before the front door was thrown open and all trace of her was gone.
Annie could feel the eyes on her despite her gaze being averted. Grabbing her mug, she wrapped both of her small hands around it and turned to stand near the window, her back to the room of stunned troopers.
Peering out the window, Annie caught sight of Margot as she marched down the street, her head hung low and her arms folded over her chest. Annie wished she could go back and redo everything. She hadn't meant what she had said, or at least, she hadn't meant for Margot to ever know she thought those things.
From behind her, Annie heard Perconte clear his throat. "This is probably a bad time to mention that they want another patrol tonight, right?"