he started thinking about the paintings on her wall, the same girl in each image always on the edge of the action. In some, she seemed to just be watching, while in others it was like she wanted to join in but was waiting. Then there was the winged girl in the tree, alone but smiling like she had a secret. Even so, there was an innocence about her, a life on the verge of being lived.
It was only natural that he then starting thinking about Carl and Afghanistan and the day everything changed.
The heat of summer hadn’t taken hold of Afghanistan yet. Which was fine by Logan. Unlike Carl, he wasn’t a fan of the heat. They’d flown over to meet with a group of their men who’d been sent in to serve at a checkpoint just outside of Kabul.
Easy stuff, really. They just had to run a few assessments, and make sure the men were up to speed on everything required of them.
It had been going well. Very well, in fact. The guys were in good spirits, and their physical condition exceeded expectations. Unless something unexpected happened, Logan and Carl would be home by the weekend.
Ironically, both things came true.
It was Carl’s idea, but it could have just as easily been Logan’s.
For the first time in years, Carl had a serious girlfriend. Her name was Brenda, and they’d been going out for nearly four months. Every time he and Logan traveled somewhere he made sure to pick her up something interesting.
On this trip he’d heard from some security guys who’d been in the country for a while about some tablecloths that were supposed to be big hits with the wives back home.
Tablecloths, of all things. Logan still couldn’t believe that.
That day they finished early, freeing up most of their afternoon. So Carl had talked their Afghani guide into taking them and a few other Forbus guys to the shop where these cloths were sold.
Technically, they weren’t really supposed to be in that part of town. But they were there, and, because they never went anywhere in country without their weapons, they were armed, too.
Logan could have stopped the trip from happening. He even suggested to Carl that maybe they should wait until they could get an official escort.
“Relax,” Carl had said. “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll buy one for Trish, too. She’ll love it.”
Logan knew even then he should have stood his ground and insisted, but Carl had been acting kind of distracted for the previous couple of weeks, and it was nice to see him excited about something again. So Logan simply said, “Okay,” making everything that happened afterward his fault, at least from his point of view.
The ambush caught them two streets away from the store. The gunfire seemed to come out of nowhere. One second they were driving, and the next their guide was dead, and their vehicle had crashed into a wall.
Then there was the little girl in the street.
Logan found out later she was only four. Where she had come from, he never knew. But suddenly she was there, running in the wrong direction, toward the flying bullets. Most of the guys had gotten out of the other side of the vehicle and were returning fire. That meant Logan and Carl were the only ones who saw her.
Carl reacted first, but only because he spotted her first. Logan was running right behind him.
They were halfway to the girl, when the bullet caught Carl in the chest, spinning him to the ground. The shooter was on the roof of a building across the street. Logan immediately brought up his gun and got off two quick shots before the guy could train his rifle on him. The gunman staggered toward the edge of the roof, then fell into street, dead.
“You’re going to be okay,” Logan said, as he grabbed Carl’s shoulders, and pulled him out of the line of fire.
As soon as Logan was kneeling beside him, Carl whispered. “The girl. Where’s the girl?”
Logan looked around. He spotted her walking along the tan wall, tears streaming down her face, but still moving toward the firefight.
He looked at his brother-in-law. Carl was bleeding badly. If he was going to live, Logan needed to stay with him and do what he could.
Carl must have seen the agony in Logan’s eyes. “Get the girl,” he whispered.
But Logan hesitated, not ready to desert his best friend.
Carl coughed, then said a little louder, “Get the girl.”