Page 42 of Wait For Me
Landon made a mental note to ask the commander to lower the dosage before they discharged him. “Alright man, is there anything else you need me to bring you before they let you out?”
“Nah. I think I’m good.” Martinez rested his head on the starch white pillow and closed his eyes. Landon watched the even rise and fall of his chest a minute longer before turning on his heel to leave.
“Hey Doc,” Martinez called out. “What’s going to happen when we get back?”
Landon sighed, taking a seat on the stool again. “You’re going to get better. You’ll learn to deal with the stuff inside your head and we’ll make sure to get you the right treatment. I’ll put you on limited duty for a while. Things won’t be as stressful while we get you sorted out and you’ll get to see your wife and newborn child.”
“That’s not what I meant. Do you think the rumors are true? What if the home we are going back to isn’t home at all?” Martinez spoke with his eyes still closed.
Landon chose his next words carefully. “Do you think these thoughts are helping or hurting you right now?”
“Neither.” He shrugged. “I’m just thinking them out loud to the universe. But I can’t stop wondering if my wife is okay.”
Landon rested his elbows on his knees and sighed, wanting to be somewhere else where he wasn’t having this conversation. “You live on base, right? They’ll take care of everyone if there is some kind of emergency. She’ll be alright. All of our families will.”
“You’re right, Doc.” LCpl Martinez yawned, his voice dreamy and distant as he fell asleep.
Am I? Landon could feel his blood pressure rising as he stood in the passageway outside of medical. It was all too much. Sgt. Sierra shouldn’t have brought up Campbell this morning. Chief crying, the fear on her face. Martinez’s drugged up concern for his wife. I just want to send a damn email. The walls he'd built to maintain calm in chaos over the years were starting to crumble. He moved his thumb to his ring and the tiniest crack formed in the silicone band disrupting the familiar comfort of the spin. His chest tightened and he clutched his hand in a fist.
Landon ducked into the berthing and changed into PT gear, hurrying so he didn’t run into Sierra or anyone else that needed him right now. He grabbed his phone and shoved the earbuds in as he walked the corridors to the gym. His thoughts raced and he tried to calm himself with plans of what he was going to do when he got home. There were family trips he wanted to take. Mason still wasn’t riding his bike all that well according to the email Tessa had sent before the last one and he intended to fix that.
But the rumors of how bad this solar storm thing could be wouldn’t leave him alone. Were Tessa and the kids alright? They have to be. Landon’s jaw was clenched as he walked into the gym. A few people were milling about the machines but the treadmills were abandoned. He jumped on the track and cranked up the volume off his phone. Don’t think. Run.
He beat himself up with every painful minute, forcing his legs to work harder. His lungs burned as he struggled to breathe but still, he kept running. Every time he saw her face in his mind, he increased the incline and the speed. But he didn’t stop even as sweat poured down his back and his muscles screamed in protest. She will be okay. Something deep in his gut told him to move faster. If the world was falling apart… If the rumors were true… If…If…
His heart tried to launch itself from his chest. A hand reached out and hit the red stop button long before Landon was ready to slow down.
“What the hell?” He yanked the earbuds from his ears and adrenaline coursed through his veins as he turned to see GySgt. Fuimaono standing there. The track slowed and Landon grabbed the handholds for support as he gasped for air. “Why’d you do that, Gunny?”
GySgt. Fuimaono arched an eyebrow, looking him over with a frown. “You’ve been at this for over an hour. I think you need to breathe.”
Landon’s legs felt weak and he put his arms above his head. The muted notes of the heavy metal song came drifting from his fallen earbuds as he walked a few steps. Everything is going to be okay.
GySgt. Fuimaono moved to the bench and positioned himself under the chest press bar racked out with three stacks of 45lb weights on each side, grunting as he lifted it free from the holds. The Samoan warrior glanced back at Landon with mild curiosity and shook his head. “Don’t you have patients to see or something?”