27

The wind raged through the trees above him. Lloyd was about to call out when he heard the whistle from the overgrowth under a large cedar, it was a place sheltered from the oncoming storm. Lloyd pushed away the overgrowth of limbs and fallen branches, there he saw Beau was leaning against the trunk, the whistle in his mouth. He seemed asleep; he inhaled slowly and blew a loud blast. Ben was lying next to him, his shoulder ripped open, his skin ashen. Lloyd knew Ben was dead. Ben’s coat was draped over Beau’s legs.

Lloyd crawled in, “Beau, I’m here.”

Lloyd lifted the bloody coat off his friend’s leg. It was a mangled mess. A belt was tightened above his knee. Lloyd had seen a wound like this before. The driver in an APV ahead of him had suffered the same injury when they ran over an IED, he hadn’t made it. Lloyd knew that the tourniquet would cost Beau his leg, but it may have saved his life.

“Hang on, Beau. I am going to get you out of here.”

Lloyd cr