Chapter Twelve
Heavy shelling, heavy duty.
Marie felt her world narrowing until there was nothing left except trying to help lumps of flesh that had once been men. This tunnel vision was familiar to her. It made it easier to concentrate on the task ahead.
She could stand the blood; she could cope with the sight of burned flesh and ghastly wounds. But those eyes in blackened faces, looking at her, hoping for an angel bringing illumination of the pain, the fear, and the despair, were barely endurable.
Chase away this doom. Heal me.
She murmured consoling generalities while her hands, arms, eyes, and brain worked together to bandage, disinfect, exorcise.
Trying to put everything back in place. Bowels, shredded members, ragged flesh.
Still, in the whirl of images and smells, there were
