: Prologue
Bones
Abrahm’s eyes are blurry with dark blood. I try to wipe the red streams from his cheeks with my sleeve, but it flows relentlessly from the gash on the side of his head. His blond-brown hair that was always so bright is now burgundy and streaked with the call of death. Dirt and rocks cling to the stickiness of his skin. Panic flashes through me; it’s through sheer will that I force the plains of my face to remain smooth and emotionless.
“B-Bones.”
My chest grows heavy with the weakness that draws out his whiny breaths. The way his fingers tremble as he reaches for me. His black gloves are drowned in blood. I bury my teeth into my lower lip to quell the agony that seeps into my throat.
“I’m here, Abrahm.” I shut my eyes to stave off the despair.
“I’m—” He coughs and blood splatters across my mask. I don’t blink. “S-scared.” His green eyes are murky-yellow with red liquid, waning as death clings to him. I shakily remove my gloves and press my cold palm to his cheek.
Shit. We weren’t supposed to be here, not like this. Riøt Squad was supposed to meet us at the checkpoint. Where the fuck were they? I duck as bullets pelt into the dry terrain and kick up dust around us.
Abrahm’s chest gapes with a hole right next to his heart, the heat of his flesh quickly fleeing him. Goddammit. I lift my head and search through the smoke for the rest of our squad. Only three lifeless hostiles lie motionless in the clearing. I killed them mercilessly, cruelly, like I’d been taught to, but they aren’t the ones who shot my second. They aren’t responsible for his dwindling life. The bullet went straight through his vest and must be a higher grade.
My fists clench. Why didn’t he stay back like I told him to? Goddammit.
The rest of my squad is firing back and securing the area, but it will be too late. I’ve witnessed many men die. I know when there’s far too much damage. Abrahm isn’t going to make it, and I find myself incapable of leaving his side. There are protocols I need to follow, and the mission isn’t complete yet, but it doesn’t seem to matter to me like it once had. Not now that he’s going to die. I let my eyes fall closed and, with trembling hands, take my mask off slowly.
A face that no one is supposed to know. I want him to know.
I open my eyes and look down at him.
Abrahm’s eyes widen, brows pinching weakly together with concern. “Bones, you shouldn’t—” He tries to reach his hand up to cover my face, but he can’t even lift his arm now. I catch his falling hand.
“Bradshaw.”
His weary eyes are shutting slowly, but a small grin spreads over his chapped lips.
“My name is Bradshaw.” My voice is a mere whisper, but I know he hears it.
Abrahm draws his final breath, and it sounds like a sigh of relief. It doesn’t at all sound like the last noise he’ll ever make.
His eyes are still on me, hazed over now but seeing straight through me.
The light has gone.
And vengeance is born into my heart.