Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Fuck. “Mad. Come on. Wake up,” Ben urged. “Talk to me. Or maybe you want to sing?”
Maddox let out a cough that might have been intended as a laugh, but his eyes didn’t open.
Ben could remember them, clear and hazel and so alive during the first real parachute jump of training, when Maddox hadn’t been able to contain his enthusiasm—or his quiet singing, the only real sign of his nerves.
“Horvat. Enough,” the instructor had barked at him, making Ben inch closer to his friend. The plane’s engines had roared and the bay was filled with nervous recruits, everyone just hoping to make it through BUD/S and earn their tridents.
“Can’t believe we’re really here,” Maddox whispered to Ben, canning the humming, at least temporarily.
“Me either.” Making sure the instructor’s attention had moved on, Ben leaned in. “Not sure I want to do this.” All of a sudden, what he’d wanted for years no longer seemed like such a great idea. Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane? Remembering to pull his chute on time just like in training?
“We’re in the same jump group. You follow me.” Maddox’s voice was decisive as ever. “I’ll see you on the ground. And trust me, I know you. You’re going to get addicted to this soon enough.”
And Maddox did know him, better than anyone else at training, better than any of Ben’s high school friends. Pretty soon, Ben was going to share one of his biggest secrets with Maddox, one that he was almost certain Maddox had too. If he was following anyone out of this plane, it was Maddox.
“You’re right,” he said weakly.
“Of course I’m right. You’re one of the best operators here. You just have to get to the ground. You’ve got this.” Maddox’s pep talk worked its usual magic, the tension bleeding away from Ben’s muscles.
“Horvat. Tovey. On deck,” the instructor commanded. “On my mark.”
Heart lurching into his throat, Ben followed the order. And when Maddox leaped, he felt like his heart hurtled down after him. Follow him? Hell, Ben needed to jump, needed to see for himself that Maddox would pull the chute, that he’d land safe. And when he jumped, he channeled Maddox’s confidence, reassuring himself that he’d see his friend in a few short moments.
And it had been like that for every jump after that one, always together when possible, and Maddox had been right, of course. Ben loved jumping, loved the wind on his face, the adrenaline rush, and most of all, the knowledge that Maddox would be waiting for him at the bottom.
But here in this jungle, trees still dripping and birds screeching, it hit Ben that maybe Maddox wouldn’t always be there to jump first.
“You cannot die on me. Not now. Okay?” Ben’s voice broke because he simply wasn’t sure what else he could do for Maddox. He’d reached the limit of his medical training and was down to sheer prayer, but that was Maddox’s forte not his. “I’ll taste whatever recipes you want when we’re back home. We can go to Napa if that’s what you really want. Just don’t leave me.”
Maddox said nothing and Ben’s throat burned and his eyes stung.
A dull roar sounded in the distance. Chopper. Might be theirs, might be hostile, but it was their last, best chance, and he had to take it. But if he were dragging Maddox, no way could he make the clearing in time to use his signal mirrors. Fuck. He was going to have to do the one thing he’d sworn he wouldn’t and leave Maddox—
“No. Fucking not doing it.” A weird superhuman burst of energy came over him, and he resumed dragging the sled at a much faster clip now, heading for the clearing. He’d hide Maddox closer to the clearing. Be easier for the guys to get him out of there. And it had to be their guys. Ben refused to believe otherwise. But he had to get in position to signal. The sound grew louder right as the wind picked up.
Not again. The chopper had to be able to land. He had to get Maddox to safety. Ben spotted a break in the foliage. They were close. His whole body ached and protested as he got Maddox to the edge of the clearing, hiding the stretcher in another dense patch of vegetation on the edge of the clearing.
The chopper was closer now, and this was his chance. He got the signal mirror out and—
Bang. Bang. Whiz.
Bullets. Fucking gunfire from across the clearing. Not directed at him, not yet, but he was about to be a sitting duck if he ran into the clearing to signal. Next to him, Maddox groaned. His lips were almost devoid of color now. He wasn’t going to make it if Ben didn’t get to the chopper before it circled back. And if there was gunfire, that meant the rest of the team might be near. If Maddox made it, that was all that mattered. They’d find him if Ben took action. They had to.