The thumping of the Black Hawk’s rotors was a physical force, a giant, invisible heart beating life back into a dead world. It was the sound of order, of a reality I had forgotten existed. A reality with clean sheets, sterile operating rooms, and nights not defined by the screams of the dying.
Salvation.
Kaelen’s grip on my arm was the only anchor I had in the swirling vortex of dust and hope. His plea, raw and broken, echoed in my soul. *They can’t… take you.*
The ramp of the helicopter slammed down, and a team of pararescue jumpers moved with the unhurried efficiency of men who walked through hell for a living. They were clean. They wore crisp, new uniforms. One of them, the lead medic, locked eyes with me. His expression was a mixture of professional calm and deep, human sympathy. He
