Gooseberry Island by Steven Manchester Page A

turned ashen.
    David quickly assessed the scene of the crime. It didn’t take a whole lot of investigative skills to put the puzzle together.
    It was an improvised explosive device that three rangers had stepped on, myself included,
David thought, his short hair standing on end.
But we’re all smaller than Big Al, so we didn’t have enough body weight to trigger the pressure plate
. David looked back at Al, who had just slipped into unconsciousness
. Looks like Big Al tripped enough explosives to rip apart a Humvee.
    David then gave more thought about stepping on the IED.
I almost broke my word to Craig,
he thought,
and all those promises to Lindsey.
He felt lightheaded.
    The buzz of an incoming chopper could be heard in the distance. Lieutenant Menker popped a canister of green smoke and threw it just outside their perimeter, indicating a secure landing zone. Max had grabbed the radio from Billy and was talking to the flying medics, providing vitals. “He needs more fluids,” Max reported. “He’s lost a ton of blood.”
    The shadows of the chopper blades cutting across the sun danced on the dirt road, whining loudly and kicking up a tornado of dust. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion at that point.
It’s like we’re in a movie,
David thought.
    The Blackhawk chopper, with a .50 caliber machine gunner hanging out of the side door, touched down. Two medics ran a green litter out to Al, where he was carefully but quickly loaded—the old IV swapped out for a new one. Four men, David included, lifted the heavy litter and ran it back to the chopper, trying to duck as they went.
    David felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back. It was the patrol leader, Kevin Menker, screaming into his ear. “Go with him, McClain, and report back to us ASAP!”
    David nodded.
    “And make sure you keep talking to him.”
    David nodded again and jumped into the helicopter. He took a knee beside Al and grabbed the man’s massive hand.
    As the chopper took to the air, it kicked up another hurricane of debris—bending the ranger patrol at their waists and making them shield their eyes. Fifty feet off the deck, David watched as the patrol was on their way again, with nasty Billy Brodeur leading the way.
But now they’re pissed
, David thought.
And someone’s going to pay dearly for this
.
    The chopper banked sideways and picked up speed. Even though there was no way Al could have ever heard him over the deafening blades, David talked to his friend, doing all he could to comfort Al’s subconscious. “Hang in there, brother. They’re going to patch you up good and get you home to that beautiful family of yours.” Al’s gruesome wounds were already emitting the most ungodly smells.
    David gagged and looked back out the door for some air.
Wow
, he thought, surprised at this new perspective of the disappearing world below.
This place is beautiful
.
    He looked back at Big Al and squeezed the giant’s hand. “You keep fighting, ranger. There’s a little guy waiting for you back home.” He then looked down at the raw meat that was once his friend’s legs and shook his head.
Maybe Top was right,
he thought.
Maybe we should have watched what we wished for.
*
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
*
    Just as soon as his schedule allowed for it, David visited Big Al in the evac hospital.
    When he entered the sanitized room, Al was lying beneath a white sheet that was pulled tightly over his large body, clearly revealing that he would never walk again on the legs God had given him.
    “My boy, Jack, thinks I’m a superhero…out here fighting all the bad guys,” Al explained, his eyes filling. “So when I called home yesterday, I told him that I had good news and bad news.”
    David sat on the edge of his friend’s bed, waiting for the payoff.
    “I told him that I lost my legs in a fight…”
    “Oh man,” David moaned, picturing the young boy getting the devastating news. He fought off the emotion that threatened to embarrass them both.
    “…but