Joanne’s POV
The tent was silent as we stared down at the man who had just died. My fingers trembled at my sides; it’s not the first time I’ve seen a dead body, but no matter how many I’ve seen, I can't imagine it ever getting easier. Sorrow and dread fell over me at once, and I could taste the bile rising in my throat.
I’m not sure how long I had been standing there for. But a couple of other soldiers, healthy ones who didn’t drink any of the water, came into view. They spoke to George, but my ears were ringing as blood rushed to my head. I
had no idea what they were saying, but George was nodding and then, before I knew it, they were taking the body out of the tent, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
“Where are they taking him?” I managed to murmur, hating the quiver in my
