Chapter SeventeenHe curled around the pain, let it hold him to the moment, to himself. He was more alert now than he'd been in a long time. Pieces were coming together, and he was aware of his situation again.
He was a prisoner of the 8th Battalion. He had been for quite a while.
Ever since Arizona. Ever since the night he should have died.
He remembered the bullet hitting him. Remembered looking at Bryan and seeing the realization spread across his face. He remembered trying to run, but the pain was too much, his body too weak. He remembered feeling Riley die beside him and falling. He remembered telling Bryan to run and killing at least three men in an effort to buy him the time to get away, fully expecting to die.
After that it all went dark. He should have died on the sand. Instead
