Project - 16 (22 page)

She spun round and stared at me and I was suddenly grateful
she was wearing sunglasses.

“
Listen you - it isn't me and they weren't aiming for us.
Whatever they were aiming for wasn't us.”

“
Riley,” I said. “What the hell were they blasting
then?”

“
How the fuck should I know?” she cried, throwing her pack
down. “But it wasn't fucking us.”

We stood there panting, clawing air back into our pounding
chests. It was hot, fiery air coming off the blast site and I
wanted to run from it, to turn my back and flee. I felt helpless
and, judging the faces of the other two, so did they.

Then we heard it again. It was coming back. It was a way off
but it was speeding up now, coming from the east.

“
Oh fuck!” she said and Piotr was cursing in
Russian.

“
Just dump the bag and run!” I said, charging forward towards
the next wall, panic rising up in my throat, threatening to send me
down into the snow to try and hide again. Piotr was right behind me
but Riley had grabbed her rifle and was trying to get something
from her pack. I turned, saw her run but in the wrong direction,
then disappear suddenly into the snow without a trace.

“
Riley!” I called, but the jet was almost on us and Piotr
shoved me towards the wall. I'd just gotten over it when the bomb
hit the ground, destroying everything in its path. Again I fell
deaf to the power of the blast, felt the heat on my skin as I tried
to hide in the earth but only met with sharp, thorny shrubs buried
under the snow.

I waited, breathing in hurried gasps, eventually summoning up
the courage to raise my head which by now was feeling the cold. I
looked up and realised that I was on my own.

“
Piotr?” I called but my throat was dry and it came out in a
hoarse whisper. I swallowed a mouthful of snow and tried again, but
still no answer.

I got to my feet and looked back the way I'd come and saw the
same massive devastation. A gust of wind blew a cloud of smoke
around me, enveloping me and making me choke and splutter. When it
cleared I could see nothing of either Riley or Piotr.

“
Riley!” I yelled. “Piotr?”

The stones of the wall were still hot from the blast so I
started to walk along it, looking all around me to see where they
could possibly be. The sound of the engine was gone now. It was
eerily quiet. There was only the low whine of hissing water and the
crackle of the woodland on fire at the other end of the
field.

My boots hit something beneath the snow and I looked down. It
was a pack - Piotr's pack. He must have thrown it over the wall
before climbing over. I called out his name again, but there was no
reply. I picked up his rucksack and dragged it along with
me.

I went a few feet more and then I saw him. He was led across
the wall and I hadn't seen him until now. His arm was stretched out
in front of him and that was all that was recognisable. From the
shoulder down he was a charred and blackened heap. Smoke rose from
his remains and as I got closer I could smell the horribly
sickly-sweet smell of burned flesh.

He'd pushed me on but it'd cost him valuable moments. He must
have stumbled and been unable to get over the wall in time and the
blast had destroyed him. I stared at his remains, holding his pack
and not quite registering what was happening. Death was nothing new
to me, it was just the shock and the suddenness of this one that
had reached me.

“
MILLER!!

Riley's voice cut through the confusion and suddenly I was
over the wall, running across the blasted field kicking ashes into
the air as I ran. The heat had vaporised the snow so I could see
where the cliff edge was. When I got there I peered over the edge
and saw Riley led at the bottom in a growing pool of blood that
sunk into the snow.

“
Miller - I think I’ve broken my leg!” she called
up.

“
I'm coming,” I called. “I'll try to find a way
down.”

“
Hurry! Please!”

I raced along the cliff and found a reasonable place to
descend, throwing Piotr's pack down the twenty or so feet to the
bottom. Then I found a foothold and lowered myself over the edge,
smelling the harsh stench of burned earth as I came level with it
before plunging further down. It took moments to reach the bottom
safely where the snow piled up once more but now with a dusting of
black ash.

Riley was led against a rock with her leg stretched out in
front of her. There was a lot of blood coming from a deep wound in
her right thigh but the angle of the leg itself seemed
okay.

“
Where do you think it's broken?” I asked, crouching down near
her.

“
I can't move it!” she said, wincing as I ran my hands over
her leg, looking for anything out of the ordinary. There was
nothing but the gash in her thigh though.

“
Try harder,” I said, manipulating it myself. She was able to
bend the knee and roll her ankle. She was in shock and I turned my
attention to the wound - anything other than the dead body of Piotr
above me. The blood was forming a pink slush around her. I rooted
in my pack for a large bandage and pressed the pad of it onto the
wound, wrapping the lengths around it as tightly as I
could.

“
Can you try and stand?” I asked, helping her onto her
feet.

“
It's not broken?” she said.

“
No, it isn't but we need to deal with that cut. It's pretty
deep. I think you hit that rock there. You were lucky.”

“
Some fucking luck,” she said.

“
Here, lean on me.” She threw her arm around my shoulder and
together we walked away from the cliff edge, heading down a gentle
slope towards a snow-capped barn at the other end of the field. It
had only three sides from where I could see but part of the roof
beams were still there. It was the only shelter for miles so it
would have to do.

“
We're going over there,” I said, pointing to it. “You think
you can make it?”

“
Too fucking right,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Try and
stop me.”

We left a trail of blood on the pristine white snow. Riley
limped along as best she could until we reached the shelter. I
helped her inside the walls and she collapsed in the corner onto
her good side, panting and moaning in pain.

“
I'll be right back, don't move,” I said, running across the
field to get Piotr's gear. I followed the blood stains all the way
there, worrying about how much blood she might have lost already. I
tried to remind myself that blood was deceiving, that it always
looked worse than it was.

I sprinted back to the shelter with Piotr's stuff and began
arranging things into priorities because this straightforward trek
to the bunker had turned into a life and death struggle now - death
already having scored against us in the most horrific way and
looking to strike again if I didn't act.

I hung my pack up on a rusty peg buried in the wall and took
off my coat. I rooted through Piotr's equipment and found his tarp,
laying it out on the floor next to Riley. My mind was running hot
and smooth now like an engine and I felt the kind of confidence
that comes from having faith in your own skills and abilities. I
could do this - I'd done this before and I could do it
again.

“
Riley, I need you to shuffle onto this plastic,” I said,
helping her onto the tarp. Her hand was on the bandage and already
the blood had seeped through her fingers. I got another one ready,
moved her hand aside and placed it on top of the first one. “Press
as hard as you can,” I said and went to find my tinder
box.

Outside the snow was beginning to fall again. There was a
pair of over grown apple trees about half a click away. I ran the
short distance and began snapping off as many dead branches as I
could, keeping the thin finger-like twigs in tact, then set off
back to Riley and the shelter. All the time my lungs were burning
with the cold but I pressed on knowing that our survival hung in
the balance. I was just glad that we couldn't hear the plane any
more - confirming that it had been following a signal given off by
Riley's kit. With her bag destroyed the aircraft must have been
recalled. Would they check it with a helicopter team though? Would
they bother?

She hadn't moved when I got back inside and so I began to
build my fire, arranging the sticks in a pyramid with my tinder at
the bottom. In minutes I had enough of a flame to start boiling
water in Piotr's big pans and I set them going, pouring in a
generous amount of unrefined salt into one of them.

“
How are you doing, Riley?” I asked.

“
Fucking ace,” she mumbled.

Whilst the water was boiling I got my first aid kit out and
unpacked a sterile needle and thread and some more bandages. There
were some rubber gloves too and I put them on, struggling with my
fingers that were going numb with cold. I tried not to think about
Piotr - it wasn't conducive to our survival. There'd be time for
that after. I had no doubt that there'd be things in the pack he'd
want sent home to his family but I couldn't think about that
now.

I took the unsalted pan of water and quickly made up a mug of
black coffee, sipping it for its warmth to try and get some feeling
back into my hands. It's funny how your mind works in a crisis. My
brain began replaying the audio of a memory, of Dad saying 'core
body temperature, son, it's all about core body temperature. Keep
your chest warm and your limbs will be warm'. Now I found myself
thinking about the both of them. Dead. No longer in my world. Just
recordings in my head.

I took the other pan off the fire and sat it in the snow,
leaving it to cool a little.

“
Where's Piotr?” asked Riley, barely audible even over the
gentle crackling of the fire.

“
He's dead,” I said. “And we have to fix that leg.”

I put my finger in the pan and found the water was lukewarm.
I turned and looked at the bandage. Riley's hand had stopped
pressing and had slid down her leg almost lifelessly. The blood had
come through the second pad and so I took off both and threw them
on the fire.

“
Sorry, Riley, but the pants need to come off,” I said. She
didn't reply. I leaned over her and held my hand to her mouth,
feeling for breath. It was there - faint, but still
there.

I undid the buckle of her combat trousers and slid them down
to her ankles, grabbing Piotr's sleeping bag with one hand and
pulling it over her exposed legs. Then I used my knife to cut
through her underwear and that went on the fire too.

The wound was a few inches long but was deep enough to worry
me. I was no expert but I was sure I could see bone and the chances
of her avoiding infection were slim. Still, I knew I had to try and
it wasn't a new experience for me - one of my students had suffered
a similar wound to their back once and I knew the treatment would
be the same.

I took my pan of warm salt water and, bracing her legs with
my knee, I prised open the wound and gently poured it in. She
suddenly bucked under me, screaming with the pain but she was too
weak to fight my weight and I emptied the pan until the flesh was
clean again.

Next I took the needle and began the delicate work of
stitching the wound closed. I'd done this before - countless times
under Dad's careful supervision with a pig carcass and even a
couple of times with an orange peel. Again, the audio rattled on in
my head, Dad's words, Dad's training chanting through my mind like
a mantra.

Riley tried to fight me off but failed. She led on her side,
sobbing to herself which, though it broke my heart, was better than
the silence of the dying.

When I was done I put a fresh pad over the neat join and
wrapped it around her thigh. When I was happy that the blood flow
had been stemmed enough, I helped her up into a sitting position
and began taking off my gloves.

“
Riley?” I said. “Are you okay?”

“
That really hurt...” she managed to sob. I guess I'd unfairly
expected the hardened Ranger to suck it up and I hadn't taken her
feelings into account. I felt guilty as I helped her out of her
boots and into the sleeping bag, putting my coat around her
shoulders. I took her trousers and hung them up to dry with a piece
of paracord strung across our shelter. Then I sat down next to her
and gave her my coffee cup.

“
How are you feeling?” I asked. I found a cleansing wipe in my
kit and began to clean some of the dirt and blood from her
face.

“
Shit. Like I’ve gone a few rounds with Rowsey.”

“
You're lucky to be alive. We both are.”

“
He's dead. Piotr is fucking dead.”

“
I know.” I squeezed her hand. “I need to get more wood,” I
said. “Will you be okay?”

She nodded. I got the folding saw from my pack and set off in
search of more firewood. The easy part of our survival was done.
Now the hard work was about to begin.

8.

The darkness didn't seem to care that we were fighting for
our lives and it surrounded us, blotting out the landscape and
leaving us with only the reflected moonlight shining on the snow.
It was enough to work by and I made several trips to the apple
trees, dragging back the thicker branches until only the trunk was
left standing; my little folding saw wouldn't do much against that
and unless there was an axe head knocking around I'd have to find
some smaller stuff.