Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 Read Free Page A

heap.
    “Sack!” he screamed.
    And then there was pain. Nearly blind, he
fell to his knees, trying to focus. The noises of battle engulfed
him, coupled with images he was struggling to understand. Angry
faces surrounded him. Voices screamed unintelligibly.
    Danger! Defend! Fight!
    He was … where? Doing … what? He felt his
body moving. Twisting and contorting. Familiar movements disjointed
from any rational thought. Senses overwhelmed. He continued to
move, not knowing why. With the next explosion, he found Sack again
in the flash of light, but why was he falling? Sack, landing face
down in the dirt. Sack, not moving.
    A dream? Sounds, smells, images
assailed him. Time had no meaning. His brain received
incomprehensible signals as the pain in his head intensified. He
felt the involuntary motion of his limbs. He was moving, but he
didn't know why. There were sharp pains in his right side. Then his
back.
    What's happening to me?
     
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
     
    SACK WAS BARELY conscious as he heard
the battle raging around him. He couldn't move his legs for the
pain. He had difficulty even lifting his head. When he finally did,
he heard the familiar sound of an MP5 ringing out and he caught
sight of … he couldn't be sure who it was above him. Then he saw
the ghillie suit.
    “LT?” he managed, too weakly to be heard
over the melee. Sack continued to watch in amazement as Rot turned
and methodically engaged each enemy as they came at him. Using his
MP5 with deadly accuracy, Rot dropped several of his attackers
until his weapon’s magazine was finally exhausted. Dropping it, he
drew his nine-millimeter Beretta from its holster and quickly
emptied the clip. When the pistol was spent, Rot began fighting
hand-to-hand.
    With each passing moment, Sack expected to
watch his friend die as assailant after assailant came at him. But
Rot had become a machine, sometimes taking them on two at a time.
Every fight had a similar outcome as the bodies piled up around
him.
    And then there was silence.
     
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
     
    ROT WAS ON HIS FEET again but still
couldn't see. The involuntary, automatic movements had stopped. A
light blinded him and then an image coalesced. It was strange at
first. Not faces, but colors. Olive green and black. Stripes and
stars. There were voices he didn't understand. Familiar words, but
they made no sense.
    Then he was on the ground, unable to move.
One word he discerned. Safe .
    And then there was darkness.
     
     
     
    * * * * *
     
     
     
    ROT AWOKE AT Landstuhl Regional
Medical Center in Germany three weeks later. During the skirmish in
Afghanistan, he suffered a gunshot wound just inches from his
spine, one that narrowly missed his right kidney, and several deep
lacerations from edged weapons. But most seriously, he had a head
wound the doctors concluded was probably caused by shrapnel from an
exploding grenade. They insisted on countless tests before allowing
him any visitors, annoying Rot to no end. He had no memory of the
incident, and he needed to know what had happened. The staff
had assured him, albeit prematurely, that he would make a complete
recovery and return to full duty. But they had also emphasized that
it would take time.
    Sack was at his side as soon as he was
allowed. He was anchored to a wheelchair, both of his legs riddled
with gunshot wounds. One of them had shattered his left tibia,
requiring a titanium rod to be inserted to replace the bone. Two
screws protruded from his shin six inches apart, which were
periodically adjusted to ensure proper healing.
    Despite his injuries, Sack insisted on being
Rot's errand boy for the duration of their stay in the hospital.
Rot tried pumping his friend for information, but Sack would only
smile and say, “I ain’t supposed to tell ya.”
    When the doctors were finally satisfied that
the head wound would have no permanent effects, they, along with
the SEAL’s commanding officer, gave Sack the go-ahead to tell Rot
what had