The Long Road Home by Cheyenne Meadows

behavior in the bud, a larger battle would only come later.
    "Logan…"
    "Tilly, he's a grown man. No man likes to be treated like a four-year-old. You mean well, but you're stepping on his ego."
    Logan shared a look with his understanding father. "Exactly." Reaching out, he grabbed his mother's hand and squeezed gently. "I love you for your devotion and that you want to care for me. I just need to do everything I can for myself."
    "What about your… injury?" She glanced down at his prosthesis visible where his pant leg ended.
    "My stump. It's okay to say the word. Stump or amputation. It's healing. Sitting around and letting people wait on me only makes me weaker and the healing process last longer. I'm the same as before, with just a couple of modifications. Let me show you." He pulled up the leg of his sweats, high enough she could see where his prosthesis ended and his stump began.
    She paled, her hand covering her mouth. With a shake of her head, she blinked back tears.
    His heart ached even as his spirits fell into the doldrums. He knew she would have difficulty accepting his disability. Seeing her upset made him hate the situation all the more. "It rarely hurts anymore if that's what you're upset about."
    "I've heard they can do amazing things with modern technology in artificial limbs." His father eyed the titanium rod serving as a leg. "Like the six million dollar man, you can hardly tell someone lost a leg with these new devices."
    Logan met his gaze. "This is the standard issue. I hope rehab at Walter Reed will allow me to update and maybe try some of the newest versions."
    "How will you go on, find a job, live the rest of your life with only one leg?" His mother whispered the question as if afraid he'd take offense.
    If she only knew how many times he'd asked himself the same questions since the attack. "I'm not giving up on life, I'm just learning to adapt to my new limitations. People have been doing that for centuries after war. I can do just about everything I could do before."
    "Just about everything?" his father asked.
    "Everything but be an Army Ranger." Logan's voice trailed off.
    Both his parents looked at him with sympathy. Depressed and disillusioned, he set his fork down and walked back to his bedroom with his head down and confidence in the gutter.

Chapter 18
     
    Logan stood in the gunner's position as the armor-plated vehicle slowly crept forward, following a short line of similarly outfitted Humvees. Everywhere he looked up in the hills, heads peeked out and rifle barrels aimed in their direction. He fired, fast and hard, hoping to eradicate every threat before they could take out his men, his team, his whole entire force. Each round shook his arms, made him swear, as the heat from the huge gun added to the oven-like desert. Sweat poured from his head as he aimed, fired, and repeated the action. Tangos sprinted here and there, ducked, then shot back, hitting his men. One by one, each fell. An explosion sent him flying, landing flat on his back on the dusty road. Looking down, he saw blood everywhere and only part of leg where there had been a full one previously.
     
    Jerking awake, Logan panted, tried to catch his breath as his heart threatened to beat through his chest. He blinked in the dark, orienting himself to his location. Throwing the covers back, he sat up on the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands.
    Shit. Another fucking nightmare. He trembled from the images so representative of his real-life horror. Taking a deep breath, he focused on familiar objects. His bed, dresser. Even the carpet. Glancing around, he found the clock. Four am.
    Wide awake and shaken, he knew from experience sleep was out of the question for the remainder of the night. Adrenaline surged through his system, meaning he'd be awake and antsy for the next few hours.
    Might as well get up and pack. Not like there was much else to do at this time of day. Not to mention, he was more than eager this morning to