Page 6 of Pieces Into Place

He offers no other explanation, and I can feel my patience starting to wane. “Maybe you can tell me what I’ve been through,” I respond in a clipped tone.

“Of course,” he answers, not appearing to take my sour mood personally. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

“No,” I shake my head.

“So you don’t remember anything?” he inquires.

I look briefly at Kathrin beside my bed and then back at the doctor. “I remember enough,” I reply curtly. “But I’m not free to tell you where I was or what I was doing.”

The doctor’s eyebrow peaks in amusement before he nods. “It seems your brain is working well,” he says. “That’s very good.” He looks at Kathrin and smiles. “I need you to wait outside for a moment, please.”

She squeezes my hand and gives me a tight-lipped smile before turning and leaving the room. Once she’s gone, the doctor begins.

“Your body has been through quite an ordeal, Son,” he starts. “You’ve experienced a traumatic brain injury.”

“Medical speak for a concussion,” I reply. “I’m familiar.”

The doctor takes his glasses off and casts his glance down at the floor before returning it to my face. “I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” he says. “You sustained a very serious head injury. You’ve been in a coma for eight days.”

I hear what he is saying, but it doesn’t make any sense. I do the math in my head and it’s not computing. “What? No. That can’t be right. What day is it?”

“It’s October twenty-third,” he answers.

The op was set for October fifteenth. How is this possible? “What happened,” I ask, my voice shaky with the anticipation of dread.

“There was an explosion. Others will be able to give you more details. All I know is that you were close to the source and thrown ten feet, landing on your head.”

He takes a deep breath, giving me a moment to take in his words before continuing. “It could have been fatal. I’m honestly surprised you’ve fared as well as you have.”

Maybe that’s supposed to make me feel better, but it doesn’t. I’m in a hospital instead of in the field with my team. My girlfriend was looking at me with pity and guilt. Nothing about this feels good.

“So, when can I get back to work?” I ask hopefully.

“I’m afraid I can’t say for sure,” he replies. “You were in a coma. Your brain has experienced more trauma than it can handle. You’ve been having seizures.”

My head spins as he attempts to fill in the gaps in my memory of the past eight days. “Seizures? How many?”

“Several per hour until we got them under control with medication.”

“No. This can’t be right. I need to get out of here. I don’t belong here.” Even as I say the words, my body will not allow me to sit up straight. I’m weak, and I don’t do weakness. It’s unsettling, and my current set of circumstances have me feeling furious and on the verge of panic.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but going anywhere isn’t an option right now, so I wouldn’t even consider it. Now that you’re awake, we need to run more tests. We need to assess the damage to your brain.”

“What about my team?” I ask with trepidation.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he says. “I will alert your local commanding officer, and he can fill you in on the details. For now, you have your visitor outside, and your parents are on their way. The best thing for you right now is to rest and spend time with your family.”

I fight against the torrent of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me, anger and sadness mixing together in a potent cocktail. This man has no idea what my life has been like since I was deployed. I long to be reunited with my family, but my mind refuses to settle until I know the fate of my team, whether or not they are still alive.

“You have to understand, this is important to me,” I growl at him. “Please tell whoever you need to, so I can get news of my unit.”

Chapter three

Kane

My lips turn down involuntarily as I stare at the tray of clear liquids. The broth is tasteless. The jello isn’t much better, lying in a pool thick with some kind of fruit-flavored syrup that smells like artificial pineapples. I push the tray away in disgust as my nurse, Renee, waltzes into the room. Her curly hair is thinning a little bit, stretched in tendrils around her face. She looks tired, but pushes her exhaustion aside to deal with me.

She’s been on my ass for the past three hours, trying to get me to eat something without success. Kathrin hasn’t returned yet and I still haven’t heard anything about my team. It’s getting on my nerves.