Keeping his attention focused on the vehicle in front of him, he strained to see when a flash of light in the distance lit up the cloudy sky. He braked hard when the truck thirty meters in front swerved suddenly and then flipped as an explosion blinded him. He sat stunned as he took in the devastation around him. The mangled heap that had once been a military transport now lay smoldering with the bodies of injured soldiers lying scattered on the ground.
Shane gunned the engine and drove the armored ambulance in front of the men to protect them from further harm. Then he and his men bailed out to help retrieve the injured.
Not about to allow Sloan to exit the vehicle while they were under attack, he ordered, “Ready the IVs while we Evac the injured,” as she sat wide-eyed in the front seat.
One by one they assessed who could be saved and whom they’d already lost, then carried them back to the ambulance. Their mobile Medivac could handle a triage of six, but Shane wasn’t leaving without their fallen brothers, so he ordered his men to retrieve those who had died. They’d made it thirty feet when the thunder of an IED shook the earth. Shane shouted for his men to drop to the dirt then covered his own head and kissed his ass good-bye while seconds passed like hours. The explosion that followed knocked him senseless, spewing shrapnel into the air. Hot metal burned his arms and face as fragments rained down on his unit. He could hear his men shouting as the dust cleared, and then bit by agonizing bit, he turned his head toward the explosion that had rocked the earth. The heat from the fire scorched his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. The RG 33, along with Sloan and the rest of the injured, was obliterated.
***
The air was crisp the day Private Emma Jane Sloan came home for the last time. Shane had stayed with her the entire trip, escorting her back to Alaska. Her family was waiting on the tarmac when the plane touched down; he knew them immediately. The shock of red hair and bright blue eyes told him exactly who her mother was.
From the window, he watched in solemn silence as her mother placed her hand on her daughter’s coffin and wept. Shane turned his head, unable to watch when she broke down, her legs giving out as her wails of heartbreak bounced around the plane’s fuselage. It was a sight he wouldn’t forget as long as he lived; a sight he knew was his fault.
He should have ordered Sloan to stay on base. She’d had no business in Afghanistan and he knew it. He should have pressed his superiors about transferring her, but he hadn’t. She’d been determined to pull her weight and become a valuable soldier in the Army, so he’d kept an eye on her instead of listening to that inner voice that told him to transfer her to a desk job.
Her death was on him and no one else.
Shane deplaned as the honor guard readied themselves to escort Private Sloan to the back of a hearse. As he made his way down the steps, dark auburn hair the color of rich mahogany caught his attention. Dressed in a black wrap dress and standing behind Sloan’s mother was a petite woman with devastated pale-green eyes. When he made it to the bottom step, the woman turned her anguished face in his direction, and their eyes locked and held. A burn deep in his gut began to eat its way up his chest, constricting his lungs, as her eyes seemed to burrow into his soul, piercing his heart. Then her gaze softened as if she could read his tortured mind, and her bottom lip began to tremble.
He recognized her immediately; she was Private Sloan’s older sister. Sloan had shown him her picture once and spoken briefly about the woman who was nine years her senior. She’d told him with pride that she was a court appointed child advocate who counseled and evaluated custody for children who were under Child Protective Services' care.
Having those pale-green eyes turned his way with something akin to sorrow for him, reminded Shane that when he’d seen her picture, he’d thought she was sexy as hell. The kind of sexy that told a man she’d get off on being on her knees while his hand guided her mouth, but wouldn’t take shit from him either. The kind of sexy that said she’d partner with him in life, bear his children gladly, and do it all while warming his bed with enthusiasm. The type of woman he’d wanted to find when he came home after ten years in the military. However, that was then and this was now. Everything had changed. What dreams he may have had were in a holding pattern. He knew he couldn’t move forward with his life until he conquered his demons and learned to live with the guilt.
Shane turned his attention away from hers and then moved to stand with the other officers. When it was time to load the casket into the hearse, he sharply raised his hand in salute to the girl who had been more kid sister than soldier in his mind. As he stood locked in place, watching as her flag-covered coffin slipped silently into the back, he remembered Sloan’s blue eyes smiling, her face lit up with laughter. He could hear her voice saying, “Sir,” as the doors slammed shut, and his hands shook at the memory. Even though the weather was cool, sweat ran down his back as he tried to gain control of his tattered soul. He was hanging on by a thread and he knew it.