Jaded Warriors book 2 (Jade Series)

Chapter 28

Chapter 28


“Jade, wait…”


I couldn't get out of camp fast enough as I walked briskly to the hole in the fence. I didn't stop, I didn't look back. I knew Kane wasn't far behind me as I heard him call my name. An edge of the chain link caught my shirt and gouged across my chest as I tried to squeeze sideways through the hole. Hot tears stung, chapping my cheeks in the freezing night. My lungs burned from the frosty air as I started to run and took rapid breaths to fuel my escape.


I reached the trees and continued to move up the side of the mountain. I clambered over rocks and fallen logs, I had no idea where I headed but I needed to get away. Too much had happened, tonight and in my past as the traumatizing events flashed through my mind.


The orange tracers of machine gun fire through the dark night, men dead and dying and bleeding from bullet wounds, some caused by me. The escape from the jail, Trey. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I thought of Trey and his sacrifice for me. Hector’s death, Morrison and his brutal interrogations, unrelenting and damaging, and Damian. This whole thing seemed to start with Damian and his insistence in getting to me. 


“Jade, stop!    Right now, dammit!      Just stop!”


I slowed my steps and my exertion forced breaths pulled me to the ground. Tears flowed freely as I settled to my knees. My body shook with each tear. I heard Kane next to me as he attempted to recover his breaths as well.


“Why are you running from me? It’s me! Your brother! Talk to me!” 


“You have to believe me! I had nothing to do with it! I don't know what he's talking about!” I sobbed.


“Jade, do you really think I would take sides with him? I would never think otherwise.”


“Why would he accuse me?”


“I don't know… He's just a paranoid, middle-aged, plastic surgeon, who is pissed off because his world of fancy cars, elite dinners and expensive toys was turned upside down,” he said, as he sat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, calming my tears.


“What did you hear?”


“Enough to know that there is something you don't want me to see.”


“It is so ugly! I hate that it's there and I wish it were gone! It doesn't mean I'm a traitor!”


“What is it?”


“Nothing.”


“Then you ran all the way up here, and busted my ass trying to reach you, for a whole lot of nothing.”


I laughed through my tears at Kane's pitiable attempt to deter my disquiet. I wiped my tearstained cheeks and sighed, then glanced at him with sad eyes through the glowing darkness lit by the moon. Its brightness gave enough light for me to see the concern on his face.


“You need to face what you’re running from… it will catch up with you every time.”


“It's a mark, Morrison placed on me to say I belong to him. I don't want to show it to you.”


“It's okay, you don't have to show me… I believe you.”


“Walstrom said Trey is dead because of me.”


“He’s not dead because of you…. I'll get to the bottom of this, I don't know why he cornered you, but I'll find out, okay?”


“Okay…”The pounding in my chest slowed with my breathing. The cold frozen snow beneath me, suddenly noticeable as it soaked through my pants and caused me to shiver. 


“Kane, you shouldn't be up, Dr. Ashton wants you in bed… if you keep bleeding-”


“I know,” he interrupted, discouragement in his voice, “whose fault is that?”


“Mine,” I said, a somber expression surfaced on my face. “I’m so sorry.”


“It’s okay… I feel fine.”


“Is that why you're splinting your side?” I asked, as I noticed his hand pressed against the dressing of his wound. “You could have re-injured yourself.”


“I'm sure if I did, you'd take care of it.”


I smiled at his comment, and then let it fade do obscurity as I thought of Trey. I vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the night Trey died. I wondered if he received the best care with Dr. Walstrom.


“Do you think if Trey had antibiotics, he might have made it?”


“No, Trey had a collapsed lung and needed surgery. To tell you the truth, I don't know how he made it home,” he said, “determined I guess.”


He stood and held out his hand. I glanced at it. Bruised with various gashes, scabbed over with dried blood. My eyes flicked up to him, once again with the realization. If I hadn’t shot Jackson, Kane would’ve died.


***


Sleep hit me like a ton of bricks. I barely closed my eyes and it was time to wake up. My eyes felt puffy and the cut across my chest stung, both reminders of the night before. I looked above me, the canvas ceiling glowed bright yellow. In spite of the freezing temperatures, the sun shone and that would have to be enough to help me make it through the day.


My once heightened ideals of camping as a child suddenly seemed far from glamorous as I found myself wishing to be home so I could take a bath. Warm one or not, I didn't care. I just needed to do more than clean up from a heated pan on the stove.


I looked around the six-man tent as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. It didn't look big enough to fit six.  There was barely enough room to fit five. There were four originally. Kane, Joel, Casey and Gage, and they were kind enough to let me move in with them temporarily.


With Kane gone, I ran a quick brush through my hair and headed off to find Deanna. Memories of Jackson’s death and the ambush last night boggled my mind as I absently moved through the rows of tents. I hardly noticed the freezing temperatures. I still felt the shock from it, compounded by Dr. Walstrom’s insinuations and as much as I tried, couldn't make sense of why he would think I had a connection to Morrison. He blatantly accused me of being a traitor and blamed me for Trey's death. It didn't matter that I already felt at fault for the things that happened, but to have someone else say so, was hard to swallow. 


I pushed open the canvas tent flap and glanced over the rows of beds that held the injured. Relief swept over me as I saw her in the far corner.


“Deanna,” I called out to get her attention. She gave me a smile and waved me over as she returned to her work. My shoulders sank as I huffed and scrunched my brows. I'd hoped she wouldn't make me walk through the tent. If Dr. Walstrom was here, I wanted nothing to do with running into him.  I scanned the room again, no sign of him.


I forced myself to move, one step at a time. Get in, talk to Deanna, and get out. I passed the surgical tent door and was surprised to see Dr. Ashton working on a patient. I glanced back at Deanna, who stood and waited for me.


“Any seriously hurt from last night?”


“Yeah, one man died… two are holding on and in serious condition,” she said, as I felt a shudder quiver through me. Flashing lights and thunderous gunshots continued to keep last night fresh in my mind.


“Hey, Jade!” I glanced back to see Dr. Ashton and acknowledge his hello. “How’s your shoulder?”


I rotated it in a circle, the stiffness more evident, but bearable. “It’s okay.”


“Come help me for a minute, would you please.”


“Okay.” I glanced back at Deanna and forced a smile on my face. She looked at me closer and saw my despondency as I turned to help him I gave her an ineffective, reassuring glance.


“Jade, is everything okay?”


“Not really… We can talk later.”


“Are you sure, I can take a minute.”


“Slip on a pair of gloves,” the doctor instructed, as Deanna waited for me to respond. “Hold pressure, right here for a minute, will you?”


“Jade,” Deanna probed.


“I was just wondering when you are going home?”


“Do you want to go home?”


“Yeah,” I clenched my jaw as it suddenly began to quiver and blinked back tears that threatened to surface. I took a deep breath, my insides ached as much as the cut on my arm and the bruise on my chest.


“Olivia left yesterday to relieve Megan and check on the kids. She won't be back for a few days.”


I couldn't hide the letdown on my face as a single tear escaped and I brushed it aside with a nudge of my shoulder.


“What! You want to leave this paradise. You just need to stay away from the gunfights,” Dr. Ashton interrupted, as he tried to lighten my heavy heart. He gave me a weak smile, his gentle brown eyes full of understanding and empathy.  “We'll miss your help around here.”


“I highly doubt it,” I said, then shifted my attention from the doctor, to the commotion at the door. I froze suddenly as Dr. Walstrom walked in, two soldiers carried an injured man on a stretcher and set him on a table as he writhed in obvious pain. I forced myself to breathe as I realized I held my breath. My heart pounded wildly out of my chest and I felt dizzy from the sudden shift in my heart rate.


He stared back in silence, with coldness in his eyes that dissected my dwindling confidence, piece by piece as if he used the scalpel in his hand. His internal scrutiny, covered up by his calm, collected demeanor.


“It looks like you are about finished up there. Come here and help me, Jade,” he said, as he eyed me over his glasses. Two medics walked in and moved the patient to another stretcher and wheeled him to the recovery tent. I stood, fixed to the floor, unable to move, unable to look away.


“Nope,” Dr. Ashton said. My stomach flipped around in my insides. I busied myself and quickly turned to the camp stove with two heated pots, one with warm, soapy water and the other without, at a rolling boil. I replaced my latex gloves and sorted the dirty instruments then set them in the pot of hot soapy water. “She's helping me and I'm bringing in another. Deanna, help the Doc, would you?”


“Okay,” she hesitated, I gave her a sidelong glance and her eyes met mine to search for answers at my strange behavior.


The hot steamy water felt soothing to my hands as I quickly scrubbed the instruments then set them in the pot of boiling water. I set the timer for three minutes, each tick of the timer interrupted the heavy silence. Soiled linen littered the stretcher and I pulled them off and placed them in a bin to be cleaned later.


The timer buzzed and caused me to jump. I cursed at myself for my reaction. Steam curled around my hand as I plucked the instruments out of the water with tongs and set them in the Peracetic acid solution. I reset the timer for twenty minutes then wiped down the stretcher with bleach.


The strong, caustic odor of the bleach filled the air. A little too strong. I made a mental note, recheck the recipe in my mom’s book to make sure I mixed it right.


“Where did you find bleach?” Dr. Walstrom asked, as I glanced his direction.


“Jade brought it,” Dr. Ashton replied. They both turned to me. Bleach was hard to come by.


“I made it,” I said, my voice a scratchy whisper and I had to clear my throat.


“You made it?” Dr. Walstrom asked, deep doubtful undertones laced in his voice as he stared at me over the metal rims of his glasses.


“Yeah… if you mix calcium hypochlorite with-”


“I know how it’s made,” he interrupted. The quiet in the air, pressurized by his intimidating glare.


“Then why are you asking me?” I asked, a little irritated by his questioning.


“You have calcium hypochlorite?”


“Yeah… my mom did.”


He glanced back down to his patient and requested an instrument from Deanna. She handed it to him and I couldn’t help but notice the smirk on her face.


I turned back to my work and relief bubbled in the pit of my stomach, thankful I didn’t need to go into a conversation on the chemistry behind chlorine bleach and why I knew about it. My mom’s book went from a dusty item on a shelf to one of the most treasured she left me.


I only half listened to Dr. Ashton as he talked about nothing. Probably in an attempt to distract me, but I couldn’t relax until I watched Dr. Walstrom set down his tools. After two quick surgeries he walked out. Kane's comment came to mind, and I wondered if his credentials as a plastic surgeon, allowed him to operate on combat wounds.


“Plastic surgeons,” Dr. Ashton said, with mocked disgust as he rolled his eyes. “He still thinks he can choose his own hours.”


I giggled at his insults, slightly more comfortable with Dr. Walstrom’s absence, then asked. “What kind of a doctor were you before this?”


“I worked in the ER with your mom,” he said, then watched me closely for my response. My eyes grew wide with a raise of my eyebrows.


“Oh… you did?”


“Yeah… you remind me of her,” he said, then smiled.


“Thank you…” My thoughts drifted to her. If I could become half of what she was to me, I would be okay with that.


“Let's call it a day, Jade. I'm going to take a break while I can. You never know when the medics will wheel in more injured.”


“Okay,” I said, as he gave me a worn out smile. I noticed Deanna, busy with something so I slipped out before the twenty questions started.


My stomach churned like butter with a queasiness that food wouldn’t help and I couldn't make it back to my tent fast enough.


“Jade, you're going the wrong way,” a pleasantly familiar voice called out. I stopped short, pulled from my thoughts and looked up to see Casey give me a tired smile. “The food is that way.”


“I'm not hungry, I'm just…”


He gave me a transient scowl. “When was the last time you ate?”


“I don't know.”


“You are coming with me.” I sighed, too tired to argue as he grabbed my arm and changed my directed destination. Maybe food would do me some good.


“Where are the others?”


“Joel is around here somewhere, he came in for some supplies and is going back out. Gage is still out. Kane went out when I came back.”


“Kane left!” I said, instantly angry. “He’s supposed to be on light duty.”


“Relax,” Casey scowled. “He went to check out the new location. No fighting… he promised. He said he peeked in the Med tent and saw you working with Deanna and Dr. Ashton before he left.”


My heart settled to a slower pace as I shook my head. I should know better than to think he would stay down for long. “What did he want?”


“Don't know, but he asked me to make sure you stay out of trouble and to make sure someone was with you at all times.”


“He did not.”


“It’s true,” he paused, and then gave me a crooked smile. “Looks like you’re stuck with me… Come on, focus, Jade. Food, we need food.”


I burst into laughter at his one tracked mind. “Why the chipper mood, Casey?”


“We’re going home for the weekend as soon as Gage returns… we’re taking you home.”


“Really,” I asked, as I gave him a sideways glance to get a glimpse of his enthusiasm, he pushed the tent flap open and we walked inside. His smile, contagious and gifted a glimmer of relief that I could go home.


“After you,” he said, as he extended his arm to direct me inside before him. I giggled at his chivalry. I walked inside as he followed and headed for the table of food.


“Does Megan know how charming you are?” My words hung loudly in the air, and I suddenly realized how quiet it was, more so than when we first walked in. I froze in my steps as Casey walked into the back of me. 


The savory smell of beef stew, bread and the brawny scent of men wafted through the air as I scanned the large tent. Other than the distant groups that talked amongst themselves in muffled whispers, at least ten sets of eyes stopped on us as we entered. I felt the air, sucked from my lungs as my sights landed on Dr. Walstrom.


Casey's jovial laugh pulled me from my reservations and I looked back at him, wondering if I should continue.  A perplexed look crossed his face as he realized my hesitation. “They all may seem mean due to their loss of manners, but really, it's like coming across a coyote in the wild, they're actually afraid of you, and will run if given the chance.”


I let out a fleeting nervous laugh as I looked at him bewildered as Casey's snide remarks to put me at ease.


“My hell, what's wrong, you never seen a girl before?” Casey said louder, to no one in particular. He nudged me forward.


“Jade, over here,” Joel said, a few rows ahead. He sat eating with two bowls of stew in front of him and a plate of three rolls, apparently hungry, an impassive look crossed his face. I sat hesitantly at the end of the table across from him, the easiest place to make a quick exit if I needed.


“Tough crowd tonight?” Casey probed Joel, as he took a full bowl of stew and a roll from Joel and started eating.


“I'll tell you later,” he replied, he scowled at Casey for stealing his meal, then he glanced at me with brief a hesitation then back to Casey.


“Oh, no,” I whispered fiercely as I leaned forward to accentuate my point. The anger in my voice, no less present than if I was verbally unrestrained.  “I am getting tired of this, nobody can talk because Jade is in the room, crap! Say it now, Joel!”


His eyebrows lifted with surprise at my boldness.  “Okay,” he paused briefly, as a familiar smile tugged at the corner of his lips. I shifted back in my chair as I recognized Gage and Joel had the same smile. “But first I have to ask… does Gage know about your temper?”


My jaw dropped as I sat wide-eyed, stunned by his observation of me. “Yes… he knows about my temper,” I said with sarcastic undertones, then slumped back in my chair. I didn't know how to feel. I wanted to cry, laugh, and rip someone's head off, all at the same time. Casey burst out laughing as he nudged me with his elbow. Joel chuckled under his breath as I gave in and smiled with resounding defeat.


“They all know you shot Jackson,” he said, suddenly serious again. “And I think they’re all are a little surprised by it.”


“What! How?” I whispered. The frustration in my voice no less evident than if I yelled it. “I thought-“


“Yeah, Casey was supposed to take the credit… but someone has a big mouth. Jackson’s death is big news. Word got out before we even won the battle.”


“Relax, Jade,” Casey paused, as he dipped a roll in his stew and shoved it in his mouth, chewing briefly before he swallowed.  “Everyone is just uptight due to the ambush last night… my father’s death… the not knowing if and when Morrison will retaliate, the close call with the weapons last week and now we’ve lost a huge supply of our weapons last night, our success depends on those weapons, that's all.”


“That’s all?” I asked, perplexed by his depreciated attitude as he made light of the situation. “That’s a lot.”


“Yeah,” he glanced at me and chuckled then looked at Joel. “It’s just how it is, we have to take it as it comes… that’s what we do.”


“We do what we can, with what we have… I know Kane was pretty angry with you for getting involved with the transfer, but he’s over it. You proved yourself again last night after you saved his butt,” Joel added, he leaned back in his chair to stretch his arms and clasped them behind his head. “And you found those weapons just in time, my hide thanks you.”


I gave him a puzzled look. “What does that mean?”


He leaned forward over the table. “It means, last night was nothing compared to last week. We were surrounded and largely outnumbered with maybe ten rounds in my last clip. I wouldn’t be here, neither would Kane, any of us really… if Chale, Elias, and four truckloads hadn't shown up when they did.”


“Oh…”


“There probably isn't a man in here who doesn't feel like he owes you in one way or another for your help last week… they just aren’t sure how to deal with that.”


“I can think of one,” I said, under my breath.


“What? Who?”


“Nothing, never mind,” I paused, Joel's expression remained blank, but a fleeting glance of acknowledgement passed through his eyes, and I knew my comment didn't make it past him as I quickly changed the subject. “And nobody owes me anything.”


“Around here, when someone helps you out of a tight spot, it's natural to want to return the favor. We watch each other's back.”


“Then I guess that means I owe just about everyone in here don't I Joel.”


“That's different,” he paused, slightly unsettled at the turn in the conversation.


“How?”


I knew the last thing he wanted was to make me feel like I owed everyone for the sacrifices made to get me away from Damian. He didn't have to, I did that on my own.  “Don’t you think you went through enough?”


“Sure,” I said, as I answered him. I held my gaze down, not wanting to look him in the eye.


“Don't forget, Jade,” Casey added, “you paid a price as well.”


“Jade, look at me,” Joel said, I chewed on my lip to release my nervous tension and in an attempt to hide the raw pain still present in my heart as I glanced at him. His frosty eyes, paler that Gage’s deep blue but no less intense as he leaned forward and narrowed the space between us as if to make a point. “You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.”


I could only nod out of fear that my voice would give out on me. After a long, brutal silence Joel went to stand, his chair legs scraped against the makeshift floor of plywood as he slid his seat back. “I'll get your dinner.”


“You don't have to, I can get it,” I said, I jumped up out of my seat before he could respond and walked over towards the food. My mind flooded with unpleasant thoughts of being held hostage with Damian harassing me, Militia charging with our soldiers dying, and a barren arms tent with empty rifles. I didn’t notice until I heard the scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor that Darby slid his chair back, making it difficult for me to pass. I instantly wished I let Joel grab my dinner as he made it a point to glare at me incessantly as I approached the table.


“Jade,” Dr. Walstrom nodded tersely from his chair. His thin, grey hair hung limp against the wire frame of his glasses, the light of the lantern that hung above him, reflected against the lenses making it impossible to see his eyes. “Don't mind the men's ignorance, it's not every day they see someone of your stature.”


My heart hammered against my insides and my breath stilled in my chest as I ignored him. I glanced at him briefly with indifference as I stepped sideways to squeeze past Darby.


“Men!”


I jumped, startled by Darby’s outburst and he stood as he spoke over the crowd. His overpowering frame cast a shadow over me as he shaded the light of the lantern that hung from the center pole of the low ceiling.  He grabbed my arm and shoved me forward to face the others. Men’s stares fell on me as they waited for him to continue. He let go of me as I shrugged him off and then held out his hand, as if to present me to the others. “Jade Kennington… Jackson’s assassin!”


Whistles and shouts filled the mess tent but distant in my mind as I only heard the sneering tone of Darby as he chuckled under his breath. He knew he got under my skin as the word assassin stung like the bitter toxin of a hornets bite. I stood my ground as his hardened glare scanned over me, loathsome and critical. In his mind, I didn’t belong here among them, in a man’s world, and I could see the disapproval in his eyes. He moved slowly, pulled his chair out of my way and sat next to Dr. Walstrom.


For anyone else but me, Jackson’s death would be a huge victory. It should’ve been Casey’s victory or Kane’s, not mine and I wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear.


“Don’t forget to take your bow, princess!” Dr. Walstrom chortled. My cheeks flushed red as embarrassment burned my insides.


“Don't patronize me, Dr. Walstrom,” I lashed back, instantly angry as I glanced around his table, only to receive sneers and three loud claps from Darby.


“Maybe your father can be proud of you after all,” he jeered over the noise of the crowd.  Chiding cynicism, weighted down his words as he threw them like stones, loud enough for those within earshot to hear without trouble, drowned out to all the others.


I whirled around, shocked and hurt at the same time as my heart pounded painfully in my chest. “What did you say?”


He leaned forward as if to exponentially exaggerate his words in an attempt to intimidate as the tent grew quiet. “Do you think this makes up for Trey?”


Before I could think about what I was doing or the repercussions of it after, unrestrained anger raged through me and I sent my fist as hard as I could into his face. He flailed back, hard against the back of the chair as his head bobbed around like a rag doll. Wild frenzy hit his eyes as blood instantly poured from his nose and he leaped out of his chair after me.


Suddenly, men all around me jumped forward in a muffled chorus of metal chair legs scraping against the wooden floor, as they scrambled towards us and placed themselves in between us. I felt strong hands grab me and yank me back as I watched a large man, with brutal force, hurl Dr. Walstrom back into his chair.


“Let go of me!” Angered, I looked back to see Joel as he pulled me back. My chest caved with my quickened breaths as hurt surfaced in my eyes and I pleaded with him to let go. He did and I felt him behind me as I walked up to Dr. Walstrom.  “My father is dead!” I clenched my jaw tight to stifle the inevitable tears that I knew would come soon. Just the thought of them, and that I couldn't control them, made me angrier. I swallowed the knot in my throat and prayed I could make my point before they fell. “And… Don't you ever talk to me about my brother again, you know nothing about me or what I'm capable of, so do not presume, for one second, that you know me. ”


Before he could respond, I turned and walked out. As soon as the tent flap closed I started to run. “Jade, wait.”


I didn't realize Joel followed me and didn't make if far before he caught me with Casey not far behind him.


“Hey tiger, slow down. Do you want to explain what all that was about?” His smirk forced beneath the surface of his shocked expression. How he found this amusing, was beyond me, and he frustrated me more. Casey distracted me by grabbing my hand to inspect it.


“Does it hurt?”


“Yeah, I guess.” I hadn't noticed until now but it throbbed with the rapid beat of my heart. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.


“Did you hurt him?”


“I don’t know… I think so,” I looked at him puzzled. “I gave him a bloody nose.”


“Good…”


“Why good?”


“Because, if you are going to hit someone hard enough to break your hand, you better make it count. I think he's feeling it as well,” Casey said, as he tried to stifle his grin. I looked at the two of them, myself still on the verge of tears, suddenly confused.


“Oh, I'm glad to see, you two are easily amused,” I lashed out with as much sarcasm that I could muster then winced sharply at the pain in my hand as Casey checked for tender spots.


“Yeah… you broke your hand. You need to see the doc,” Casey laughed, and I looked at him with dread as he realized how that sounded. “Not that doc.”