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What about you? What is your favorite movie, why, and what genre?
I guess it doesn’t matter how you got my email address… and sure, we’ll write each other for a bit.
A paladin? Wow.
Hmm.
I’m trying to think what made you select that and wondering if you are in the medical field - or if you have a bag of potions. I guess you could also be working in some lab somewhere if the Army has stuff like that? I don’t honestly know.
I think I would be a knight in this game. There is something appealing about going into battle with chain mail, a sword, and knowing that people would look up to you as you rode through town.
So, a knight and a paladin. Where should our adventure take us?
No – Sparky is my call sign. My first name is Austin.
What’s your name, oh great paladin?
Tag, you’re it.
Your pen pal,
Austin
CHAPTER4
GISELLE
Giselle puther hair up in a bun just to get it off her neck and groaned. They were doing inventoryagain, trying to keep a close eye on their supplies because it took so long to get stuff out here sometimes.
She wasn’t going to say a word in protest because she knew that Gretchen was just trying to get her footing, keeping a tight rein on the clinic, and making sure that the guys were taken care of if something happened.
It made her wonder if Houghton had given her the same story about that guy, Ethan Minter, that lost a leg a few years back… and she remembered when they pulled Reed’s limp body from the truck only months ago.
Turns out that Gretchen was Reed’s nurse at the hospital where he’d been flown out by chopper – and Giselle and Houghton had been the ones to get him ready to fly. She had never felt so scared or worried before – and could never forget his face as he struggled to stay awake, fading in and out, praying in a broken hushed voice as he lay there bleeding heavily.
Oh gosh, she had wept so hard that night when her shift was over.
Yes, out here, they always prepped and checked inventory because you just never knew. You could make do with a few things, but key items like medications, blood, supplies for I.V.’s or other things? Those items could make the difference between life or death - and whether you suffer in-between.
Making her way out of the barracks, she headed into the mess hall to get breakfast before hurrying down the cement walkway back towards the clinic. She was running behind, scarfing down a slice of toast with peanut butter just as fast as possible.
In the distance, she heard the jets powering up… and hesitated, unable to resist. Turning, she stopped to see if anyone was on the airstrip on the horizon and saw that it was still empty.
It was too early.
They were all probably getting ready and would be walking along the pavement in a bit. There was something so compelling seeing the line of pilots walking in the distance, holding their helmets, wearing their gear, and watching them look over their planes before climbing inside.
… And one of those mysterious pilots was her new pen pal.
“Beck!” someone called out. “Let’s go! We are starting!”
“Oh, shoot…” Giselle muttered, realizing that not only she had gotten distracted, but she was also losing track of time - and now late. Racing off, she hurried into the building in the distance.
Hours later, her brain was gloriously numb, and she could hear numbers droning in the back of her mind as she kept counting…two, four, six, eight…
Yes, it had been a long morning and was finally lunch time. She was going to check to see if Sparky had written her back, before grabbing a quick bite. If she went now, there would be a line waiting for the food and this would work out best to wait.
Besides, she couldn’t wait to see what he said.
