Optical Allusionist

Within a minute after Gary had fallen, he knew he wouldn't survive. He could feel the shard of shrapnel cut into his bones as he breathed. Private Gary Barone had only come into this war a couple years ago. After the terrorist attacks in New York, he had found a new determination to join this war on terror. Leaving a pregnant wife and twenty acres of inheritance, Gary joined the army. Iraq was nothing like his Kansas prairie. The soldiers were either breathing in the dense foliage, or aching for the breath of it. The cursing and defaming of their terrorist enemies was a constant in the barracks.

The shooting had come from nowhere. Or everywhere. The shard, though, had come from a definite right, slicing a deeply into Gary's chest. Not being a medic, he couldn't say exactly what organ it'd hit, but he did know he had a lot of blood coming out of him. He lay there, bleeding to death, reenacting each picture he held of his wife, as the colonel in charge hurried the troop along, out of danger. Gun shots rang through his head as his labored breathing beat through his ears. He vaguely heard the colonel insisting to a fellow soldier that they had to leave him. They had to get out of there. And that fellow soldier, that fellow soldier was Robby.

Wasn't it just this morning-- which would have been only a few hours ago-- that he'd been speaking with Robby? Something about what they'd do today. About...

Gary passed out.

He woke up soon after to the second troop moving through. He remembered now. They were moving closer to Baghdad. Something about closing in on the capital. The soldiers that passed barely gave a second glance. He wasn't the first dying soldier they'd seen. His ears caught one private turn to another on his left and whisper, "He's not making it back." A photo of his wife was held between Gary's shaking finger tips. He grappled for the second photo of Danny, his eighteen month old little boy. He held it to his lips and passed out for a second time as the second troop stepped over his body.

"Wake up. Wake up." A hand gripped his face, shaking it a little. "I can help you." As Gary began to wake up, he could hear the Arabian accent in the words. "Wake up. I can help." He opened his eyes and blinked before looking at his rescuer. The man's stubbled face focused on a strange tool he had, that was sewing up the cut in Gary's chest. After tying a knot, he took a glance around, in order to secure their safety. He then looked directly into the core of Gary's eyes, and said again, "Let me help." Gary swallowed and nodded painfully.

He woke up once more to Robby's voice.

"What the--! Colonel! Private Barone's body's here." He helped Gary up, and moved him over to the running colonel. "Don't worry, Gary, we're here. We've gotcha." He turned to the Colonel, as he said, "You're lucky they didn't get you."