Previously :
There was dirt in his mouth. He spat it out and tried to roll over. He winced. His right flank felt raw and vulnerable. He peeked, and saw that the shrapnel had shredded his jacket and uniform. His ears were still ringing.
The grenade lobbed at him, had landed about 10 meters from him. He tried to take cover, and the sandbags absorbed the blast, but the shrapnel got through, and he lost consciousness.
Now, he took his stance and started firing again.Two more soldiers have joined the firefight. From the enemy fire, he gauged that there would be 3 attackers remaining, at least. He shifted his rifle, and grabbed another magazine to reload. His right side still felt sore.
Just then, he saw another grenade soaring towards him.
“INCOMING!”, he shuffles towards his left, out of the cover area, and instantly gets hit by a bullet.
In the knee. The damn knee again.
He falls flat and feels his shattered knee brushing against the forest floor. He rolls over and watches as Pramod grabbed the grenade and redirected it at the enemy , with movie-like precision! Looks like somebody had paid attention during war-maneuvers training.
There was a mid-air blast ahead, and then screams of astonishment and agony. Two of the lieutenants slowly proceeded towards the enemy position, guns raised. They pierced through the bush cover, and there was gunfire. Then silence.
He tried to sit up now, but instantly spat out a stream of blood. The shrapnel had punctured his lung now, and the internal bleeding was making it tough to breathe. He lay back and watched the treetops.
Alisha was waking up for her morning yoga.
His mother was badgering his Dad to take the dog out for a walk.
The medic ran to him and took his pulse and then rolled him over and started cutting his jacket.
Farhan had finished his documentaries, and had switched over to a war movie, thinking about his friend.
Robert was done with his office work, and was trying to call him, but the number was out of reach.
He felt his knee being tied in a splint. He felt cold and his consciousness was waning. He couldn’t hear a word the medic was saying; his ears were still ringing from the grenade blast. Actually, the silence felt good. He felt peaceful. Pramod was now alongside the medic, removing his helmet and supporting his head.
He was comfortable now. The morphine he was given, was effective. No more pain. The cold was gone too, he felt cozy, and his eyes were heavy. Pramod insisted he stay awake, but he knew that was not an option. He smiled at him, then closed his eyes.
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