Montana Desire

We were under attack.

Get out of the car. Get out of the car. Get out of the car.

I managed to free myself from the seat belt and climb up and out of the vehicle that was on its side. Nothing came flying toward my head. No bullets or grenades. Everything was suspiciously quiet.

The rest of the Hummers in our line were fine, SEALs spilling out of them quickly.

“Carter. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” I was pointing my gun at the open desert, willing there to be an enemy for me to identify, but there was nothing. “I’m not sure about everyone else.”

The only place anyone could be hiding was an outcropping of rock fifty yards away. “I’m checking this,” I called.

Guys were behind me on my six, backing me up. Nothing on the ground, nothing on the other side of the road. This could just be a trap left to kill anyone who got close. Or any Americans who got close.

I circled the rocks, and I found nothing. Just empty air.

Finally, my body relaxed. “It’s clear,” I said. “Nothing.”

Walking back toward the tipped cars, Simmons shook his head at me. “Didn’t expect that. There’s not even that many people who know we’re here, and no one was pissed off.”

“They don’t need a reason to be pissed off at us,” I said.

The bomb specialists were closing in on the pieces of the explosive on the side of the road. Only charred remains. Stepping closer, I waited for them to clear it. What the hell had they put in that thing?

I heard the whine of a primer at the same time the shout came through. “Move, move, move!”

I barely had time to turn my back before the wave of heat and pain struck me. There was no way to tell how far I flew, but I knew as I did, something was wrong. My whole back was on fire. Like a creature from hell had raked its claws entirely down my spine. White-hot lava pierced through me, and everything went dark.

My mind settled back into the present, and I realized I was already over halfway home. Memories like that one had a way of doing that. Stealing time that you thought you had.

After that memory, I’d woken up in a military hospital in Germany. My back was torn to hell, and I had shrapnel cozy with my spine. Right then, they didn’t know whether I’d ever walk again. Thankfully, the swelling went down, and I managed to get my body to cooperate.

Nothing much had changed. I was still in limbo, not knowing if I’d be able to walk, still trapped by a single moment that had nothing to do with me.

I flinched, the sparkle of sun off the chrome of a passing truck startling me. This wasn’t going to work. If I was going to do this, then I needed help. All the way.

Pulling out my phone, I slowly made my way through my numbers until I found Rayne’s, the therapist in Garnet Bend that Resting Warrior worked with. I hadn’t been to see her in months.

My mind was going to be all over the place for the next few days. I didn’t need to make it harder by being stubborn. Taking a breath, I made the call.