Black and Green (Part 4)

Green:
   Risen searched through the med-kit in the wan light of the rising sun and came up with a bottle of FreSkin. He tried it on his own arm to be sure it sprayed. It came out clear with the sting of antiseptic and gradually grew opaque as it congealed into a thick gel. Risen sprayed it over the worst of the colonel's wounds. The sarks had abraded most of the skin from the colonel's chest, leaving raw red muscle open to the air in bloody patches. There was the bite to be dealt with as well. Risen had little medical knowledge and not much desire to learn, but he used the spray on the colonel, then lifted his own tattered shirt and sprayed the gel across his own wounded side. He held his breath against the sting, which wasn't as bad as he'd expected.
   The colonel watched him. At least, his eyes were open. Risen had his doubts about the colonel's level of consciousness, but he leaned closer, studying the rough splint around the colonel's leg.
   The colonel sat up, shaking in every limb, and looked at him. "What do you want?" he asked.
   Risen folded his fingers around the map and tapped it against his leg as he looked at the dead sarks. Eight of them. The gun on his hip had two bullets left.
   Leave him, said the voice of survival in the back of his mind. And do what? he returned. He'd no way home and only two bullets left. He was behind enemy lines. Sooner or later, he was going to have to try to get across to his own side. He might as well try it with a colonel whose life he'd saved. It wasn't likely a better chance would come along. Shoving the map into his coat pocket, he slung the pack with the med-kit over his shoulder and held out his hand.
   "Are you coming then?" Risen asked, his voice harsh as ever.
   The colonel ignored the offered hand and struggled to his feet. Risen watched a moment impassively, then stalked into the trees. He found a branch the right size and brought it back.
   "Here then," he said, holding the branch out to the colonel. "You won't get far hobbling."
   "Why do you want me alive so badly?" the colonel asked without moving.
   Risen thought again of his father's words. "You're just a man, aren't you?" He held the stick out until the colonel took it, using it to take the weight from his broken leg.
   They climbed out of the hollow, the colonel huffing and sweating and shaking. Risen was glad enough of the slow pace as his own breath came short and his head throbbed.
   He should have heard the transport, but didn't until it was above them. Five men dropped down around them, trailing ropes. They wore black. Risen reached for his gun. A hard, heavy hand clamped over his, pinning it to his side. A boot snapped into the back of his knees, and he collapsed.
   Well, he thought, I gave it a try, didn't I, Dad?


Black:
   Colonel Marsh woke up beneath the harsh white light of the medical tent.
   "There we are," said a voice he recognized as the regiment's doctor. "Good thing we logged your beacon when we did. You look like you had quite a time of it out there."
   Marsh blinked against the glare. "I thought it shorted," he said.
   The doctor put a finger to the black design tattooed on Marsh's left shoulder. "I noticed that. I reinforced it with the new series, so it shouldn't happen again."
   "Again," Marsh said with a half-hearted chuckle. The cool slide of analgesic through his veins left a thin mist over his mind that chilled and slowed his thoughts. He didn't much mind the reprieve. It had been ages since he'd been able to stop thinking, even in his sleep, of men lost and battles won, strategies and plots and key locations. It was a war that would not be won, not even in his mind.
   "That's the last of it. Do you want me to have someone take you to your tent?"
   Marsh sat up, flexing the toes of his broken leg. "Can I walk on it?"
   "Yes, but don't try running if you can manage it," the doctor said as he turned to wash his hands.
   "How are things here?" Marsh asked.
   "Already keen to get back out there, are you?" came a voice from the tent entrance.
   Marsh turned to see Lieutenant Carver framed by the cloth. "You managed to survive without me?" he said. "I'm surprised."
   Carver smiled. "Glad to see you're alive, sir. What happened out there?"
   "Another time," Marsh said with a weary shake of his head. "Where's the man they brought in with me?"
   "The greenie?" Carver said. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He's in the graveyard."