Asher: A Second Chance Novel by Kylie Walker Page A

face and chest like a blind man until he felt the thick rush of warm blood bubbling up out of his chest. Fuck! “Hang on Mack. We’re going to get you out of here.” His own voice was unrecognizable. His throat was like raw meat.
    “Hey!” the sound of the Staff Sergeant from team two’s voice floated in with the smoke from the east side of the barracks. “Y’all gonna stay in bed all day?”
    As loudly as Asher was able to manage it, he yelled at his men to get out. He could hear them shuffling and moving as they did. A pair of boots stopped next to him and he knew they were Freddie’s before he looked up. “Top or bottom?” was all Freddie said.
    “I got the top,” Asher told him. He grabbed Mack under his arms and Freddie scooped up his legs. Mack had to weigh close to three hundred pounds in his equipment, but they weren’t leaving him there.
    As they got closer to the door Asher could hear the sounds of rapid gunfire. He looked at Freddie as soon as they hit daylight and without another word they both crouched down low, holding Mack only a foot or less off the ground as debris from the building and gunshots rained down on their heads. The air outside wasn’t much better than inside. Asher decided that it must have been a suicide bomber with a truck filled with chlorine. Fucking bastards. The Sergeant from team II and two men from Asher’s team stood between firing off shots until they reached the man-made barrier along the edge of the base. They laid Mack down in the mud and called for transport. He knelt down next to him and that was when he realized Mack was already gone. He didn’t have time to mourn him, but he offered him what respect he could by moving his body further down into the pit where it wouldn’t be tramped or fired on. Then he pressed his gun into his shoulder and began firing towards whatever was firing at them. He still couldn’t see anything. They needed to get higher, above all this smoke.
    Asher’s team was close by minus Mack. He consulted with the Sergeant First Class and they decided to go in opposite directions. While the Lt. was talking to his team, Asher looked to his own and said, “We have to get to higher ground. On my count, we’re making a break for the ‘look-out.’ Hopefully we’ll be able to see these bastards from there.” His men all nodded their assent. Asher waited until there seemed to be a break in the gunfire and yelled at them to go. They all ran, sucking in the thick, contaminated air and still hacking and spitting as they moved.
    They were like ducks in a shooting gallery as they ran across the open area. Asher was relieved not to hear any gunfire until just before the last man in front of him ran inside. Asher fired back, drawing the fire in his direction. He felt the first bullet rip through his side when he was about six feet from the door of the building. He’d only had enough time to register it was probably just a flesh wound before the second bullet caught him in the left shoulder. The adrenaline kept him from registering the pain, but watching his shoulder explode was surreal.
    He pushed on and ran up the stairs. His breaths were getting shorter and the pain was fighting through the adrenaline mask. He could hear bullets bouncing off the roof and the side of the building when he got to the top. He paused and waited for another break before he moved again. He ran towards the corner of the building where the Iraqi soldier was. His men had covered the other three corners.
    The gunshots continued and Asher pressed his M30 into his non-injured shoulder and sighted it. He still couldn’t see anyone. He looked at the soldier and asked, “Who are we shooting at? Where the fuck are they?”
    He shrugged. He didn’t know either. They were probably holed up in one of the buildings down below but they had to have a sniper somewhere up high. He scooted on his belly to the edge and looked over. People were running chaotically through the street; men,