Private

The landing gear tore up through the chin bubble by my feet as we hit. The force was stunning, sickening, and it jarred me through my bones-but the aircraft was intact.

I released my harness, reached over, and shook Rick’s shoulder.

He turned and grabbed my arm, said, “Bumpy landing, Jack. Very fucking bumpy.”

The gunner and the crew chief bailed out of the crew door behind me. Rick went between our two seats and followed them down the steps into the night.

I could have gotten out through my window, but I must have gone back to the cargo bay, because what I remember next was the sight of the ruined cabin, half of it ripped away by the missile. What remained was littered with dead Marines.

It was a horror show, the real thing.

Fourteen men who had been joking and cheering when we lifted off twenty minutes before were now broken and heaped against the left side of the cabin.

Danny Young was lying apart from the others, and he was soaked in blood. I felt for a pulse, but my hands were numb and shaking. I couldn’t feel a thing.

I called Danny’s name, but he didn’t answer me. Were his eyelids flickering? I couldn’t be sure.

I inched my way through the aircraft, pulling Danny after me. I had him over my shoulder when I heard someone shout my name. I turned and saw Corporal Jeffrey Albert lying toward the rear of the cabin, where he was weighed down by the bodies of the dead.

He was screaming in pain.

Fire had started in the cockpit. As the cabin brightened, my ability to see through the goggles washed out.

Jeff Albert twisted his head to see me. I made a life-and-death assessment. Jeff was not only pinned, his legs had broken during the crash and his bones had torn through his flight suit. I couldn’t get him out by myself.

He screamed, “Get me out of here, Captain. Don’t leave me here to burn.”

“I’ll be back,” I shouted to Albert. “I’ll be back with help. I’ll be right back.”

Albert shrieked, “He’s dead, Captain. Danny is dead. Please help me.”

Chapter 84

THE LIGHTS IN the rehab center reception room flickered then came back on, their white incandescence practically blinding me.

When I took in the scene, I saw that the walls had cracked like eggshells, and the carpet was littered with shards of plaster and glass. I was both at Blue Skies and in Afghanistan, memories still pouring into my head like gasoline streaming over hard desert ground.

Men ran toward me, phosphorescent green figures against the black of night. I put Danny Young down on the ground, and then-the great gaping hole opened up in my memory. I was there. And then I wasn’t.

I was dead-and then I returned to life. For what reason, I had no idea.

There was intense and painful pressure on my chest, and Rick Del Rio was in my face. “Jack, you son of a bitch-”

He hadn’t known I’d left Jeff Albert to die.

He hadn’t known-and I hadn’t either. I had been out of my mind, hallucinating that I was in a bar. I’d thrown a jab at Rick. Now I was remembering for the first time, falling down the hole in my memory toward searing mortification.

Everything I believed about myself melted before this terrible truth. I’d left a man behind. I’d promised him I would be back, but I had left him. I wished Rick hadn’t brought me back to life.

I wished that I had stayed dead.

A voice called to me, “Jack. Jack, are you all right?”

Rick? Where the hell am I?

I stared at the gray-haired man, whose face was close to mine. Who was he? How did he know my name?

“I’m Brendan McGinty, Tommy’s therapist. You were moaning. Where are you hurt?”

“I’m… okay. I just-”

I struggled to stand, and Dr. McGinty held out his hand to help me up. I clasped his forearm and pulled myself to my feet. People scurried past in pairs and groups.

McGinty was speaking in a soothing tone. “It’s going to be all right. I’ll call a doctor to look at you, Jack.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m really fine.”

McGinty said, “Tommy, we have to postpone our session. We’ll reschedule.”

I looked up and saw my brother standing only a few feet away. He said, “Hell, no. We don’t have to cancel anything. Jack’s been through firestorms on the dark side of the moon. A little quake isn’t going to bother him. Right, Jacko?”

I wanted to get into the Lambo and jam the pedal down to the floorboard. I wanted to drive until I fell asleep at the wheel. I wanted to do whatever it took to get away from the guilt and the unbearable pain of what I’d finally remembered. I had carried a friend who was dead out of a burning helicopter, and left another man behind.

“You are okay, aren’t you, bro?” Tommy asked. “What the fuck. You’re already here. You’re a busy man, remember.”

I was so dazed, I could hardly speak, but I got out a few words. “Let’s do it,” I said.

Chapter 85

THE WORLD OUTSIDE my head seemed insubstantial, as if the present could be a dream and my memories much more solid and alive in the now.