Leave Me Behind

I dip under Bradshaw’s arm to help him stand. He forces himself to his feet and instantly groans, keeping the weight off his wounded leg. Blood pools into his boot.

“Goddammit,” he shouts, the smoothness of his throat exposed to the sky.

“We need to get out of the trees.” I let him lean on me. My wrists are still bound but it’s the least of my concerns right now. We trudge through the mushy terrain and underbrush of the forest, away from the drop site.

The chopper has already taken to the sky and grows further away until we can no longer hear it. Our only means of communication is the half-battered headset around Bradshaw’s throat, and who knows how long the batteries will last on it. If Eren and Malum find us, will they hear me out for what became of Ian?

No. I doubt it.

Eren wants me dead. I think back to his empty eyes in the briefing room. He knows a Riøt soldier killed Abrahm. Bradshaw knows it.

I know it.

I think of Eren’s easy smiles and how close my bed was to his. How stupid and foolish I feel for trusting him.

No one will believe me.

My heart drops at the thought and my step falters, nearly sending me and Bradshaw into the ground. The rope tugs on my wrist, making my jaw clench with pain.

This was meant to be a straightforward, smooth mission. Sure, it was high-risk, but we were prepared. I never thought we’d be trudging through the dark mountains in the opposite direction in search of shelter.

A black bullet. I consider the truth and what it might do, but my conscience tells me that Bradshaw deserves to know. I think on it to focus on anything other than my throbbing limbs.

The sun rose hours ago and beams down from midsky by the time we find a cave to rest in. My boots are soaked and the cold has seeped deep into my bones. I collapse to the dry ground and Bradshaw groans as his knees hit the dirt.

“You okay?” he asks. It’s the first words he’s spoken since the chopper left without us.

“Yeah. How’s your leg?” I mutter between breaths. Now that the adrenaline has faded, I’m feeling every bruise and cut. I lift my tied hands to my neck and brush the spot where he choked me. The skin is tender and raw.

Bradshaw sits with his back pressed against a large rock, slumped slightly to the side with exhaustion and tugs his pant leg up. A pit forms in my stomach at the purple and dark blue bruises that spread over his shin near the split flesh over his calf.

“Don’t make that face,” Bradshaw grumbles, pulling his pant leg back down sharply. His mouth is firm beneath his mask and tugs at the corners with weariness.

He looks so tormented by his decisions. I never thought I’d see Bradshaw this distraught, scattered. Any desire to argue with him died the moment shit hit the fan. He could’ve killed me if he really wanted to. God knows he has enough reasons. So why didn’t he?

“Bradshaw… why did you let me live?” I pin him with a desperate look and shake my head.

He stares at me for a long time. His breathing is slow as he studies my face. Finally he looks away and takes his mask off, setting it down at his side. Bradshaw meets my gaze again and gives me a pained smile.

“Would you have been able to kill me if our situations were reversed, Bun?” He lifts his hand for me to come to him. I search his posture for any hidden agendas but don’t find any. I slowly move toward him until we’re sitting side by side, leaned up against cold stone.

Bradshaw slowly unties my bindings and tosses the rope a few feet away. I rub my raw skin softly before answering him. “No. I don’t think I could.”

Even now, after he choked me—I saw the anguish and hurt in his gaze. He didn’t want to kill me.

I wish he had.

“Why did Eren order you to get rid of me instead of hearing me out?”

Now that we aren’t moving and exerting energy, the cold air starts to permeate my bones. I shiver and pull my legs closer to my chest.

Bradshaw groans in pain as he shifts to sit up more. I’m more tired than I’ve been in years, but I know he needs medical attention now, not later. I unzip my bag and grab the med kit, bandages, and ointment.

“Here, bite on this. I’m going to have to stitch it,” I mutter as I hand him a roll of gauze. He shakes his head and grins even though his forehead is covered in sweat.

“Suit yourself.” I clean his leg with a sterilizing wipe before starting.

His fingers curl into the earth, but he doesn’t make a sound as I suture his flesh back together.

“Eren said you might be…” He stops himself from finishing that sentence.

My chest aches with his silence and reluctance to tell me.

I finish the last suture and apply the ointment. Bradshaw breathes out a sigh of relief when I secure the wrap and pat his knee to signal I’ve finished.

When I move to stand, he grabs my arm gently. “Wait.”

My eyes find his and I try not to give away how much I’m affected by him. He pulls me closer until I’m seated in his lap. We stare into each other’s eyes for a few moments. My heart beats faster than it did in the air raid. Then he pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me, squeezing a surprised breath from my lungs.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice breaks and his fingers curl into my hair. “I almost… I almost made a huge mistake.” He shakes his head and tears wet my shoulder. I’ve seen more emotion from him in one day than the weeks we’ve spent training and fighting each other.

I don’t know what to say. So I don’t say anything. I just close my eyes and let my body relax against his. We mold together in this moment. His body is strong and muscular beneath me.

He caresses my skin delicately and I memorize every second of it. The way his calloused hands tenderly brush against the bruises on my neck and his torso trembling with each whisper of an apology he gives me.

Jenkins would’ve made me kill Bradshaw with my own two hands for what he’s done. But I can’t help but pity the broken soldier. He trusts his brother more than anything in this world. He always follows through on a command.

Just like I do.

“What do we do now?” I ask meekly, my eyelids fighting to stay open.

He rubs my arm anxiously and says, “Let’s rest until nightfall. We’ll make our way to one of the bunkers and go from there.”

I shiver in his hold. My wet uniform is starting to feel like ice against my skin. “Eren will find us.” I hate how scared I sound. But how can I not be? I trusted Eren with my life and he almost snuffed me out like I was nothing.

Bradshaw shakes his head. “He won’t. The backup drop location is closer to the Ghosts’ base. They’ll skip over the first two bunkers before they even land. I’ll protect you, Bunny. I promise.”

Why wasn’t I informed of the backup drop location? I wonder if the rest of Malum knew about it too.

“If it comes down to it and we run out of options, promise that you’ll be the one to kill me,” I say quietly. Bradshaw’s muscles tense beneath me. “Don’t let Eren do it. Don’t let anyone else do it. I want you to be the one.”

He pushes me an arm’s length away before looking into my eyes. His pale blue irises have never felt this painful to look into.

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, the promise heavy between us.

He rummages through our packs and shakes out the two emergency blankets. They are thin foil ones, but it’s better than nothing.

We reluctantly strip from our wet clothes and hang them on rocks to dry out before nightfall. Bradshaw spreads out one blanket on the ground. We lie side by side and warm up beneath the second one.

His body heat quickly warms against my back and my shivering ceases. He holds me close, but my mind is a thousand miles away. I’ve never been in a position to not know what the next day will bring. Missions are straightforward and have backup plans. I didn’t have a backup plan for this situation.

Bradshaw’s hand smooths down my arm and he lets it rest over my stomach. The warmth from his palm is soothing and it urges my eyes to close.

“I’ll take the first watch. You get some rest,” he says.

I try to rest but can’t. Instead I stare at the entrance of the cave for an hour. One thought on replay. A black bullet. Patagonia was a nightmare I will never escape from. The things I did there. The things I lost.

Jenkins’s voice rolls over my body like smoke, as if he’s standing right behind me whispering it.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

“The target is the one in the mask.”

“What’s his name?” I had asked, steadying my rifle and staring at two oblivious soldiers talking. They wore dark forces tactical gear, but I couldn’t pin what squad it was.

“He has many names. But the important thing is that he’s a marked traitor. Hit him, Gallows.” Jenkins watched from my side through binoculars. I thought it was strange that he was keen about this one. He usually didn’t care to watch long distance shots. Jenkins only enjoyed the intimate kills.

“Yes, sir.” I inhaled and just as I pulled the trigger the unmasked man walked into the shot path and took the bullet.

Arms dealers rose over the dunes simultaneously and all hell broke loose.

“Gallows, back to Riøt. We were never here.” Jenkins pulled my wrist.

I tried to reload. “I missed him, sir!” I wanted to get the intended target. He was so easy to pick off, holding his fallen comrade.

Jenkins snapped, “You had one shot. Let’s go. Now.” My eyes flashed at him and I could see the rage boiling behind his stoney expression.

I swallowed the disappointment of failing him. “Yes, sir.”

I close my eyes slowly and my breath grows weak with guilt. I’ve never felt remorse for a life I’ve taken. But why did it have to be him?

A black bullet killed Abrahm.

I killed Abrahm.