No Burden

“Movement, eleven o’clock,” a voice called out.

“Got it,” replied our SAW gunner.

A short burst from his weapon dropped the target.

“Cease fire, you bastards!” a familiar voice shouted.

“Tony, that you?”

“Yeah.”

Scrambling forward, staying low, I feared the worst. Instead of bullet wounds, Tony had shattered both ankles.

“Why didn’t you signal you were hurt? The guys would’ve hauled you back.”

“Didn’t want to be a burden… Hey, Darb, look over there.”

I glanced back—figures moved through the trees.

“That’s Bravo, don’t sweat it.”

“They change uniforms or something?”

I looked again.

“Shit.”

Creeping forward for a better view, I tried to count their numbers. They spotted me.

Bullets tore through the trees as I fired back. Sprinting to Tony, I hoisted him over my shoulder and bolted for our perimeter.

An RPG screamed past, knocking me down with its blast.

“Get off my fucking legs!” Tony yelled, then grinned through the pain. “Jesus, some rescuer you are.”

He laughed as I pulled him to safety.