Hemingway - Zoe Dawson Page 0,15
the bouncing rubber. “This isn’t some backyard, young lady.”
Samantha looked sheepish and smiled winsomely. “She’s just a little girl,” she said, a tiny perfect mini-SEAL protecting her teammate. Murphy gave her a knowing look, telling Sam that she wasn’t moved by cute and adorable…much. Murphy finished up the bandage and headed for the door. “Not too long,” she said, tousling Samantha’s soft blonde hair as she left the room.
“That woman scares me,” Dodger said, coming over to the bed.
“Me too,” Fast Lane said, and everyone laughed.
“She’s all bark and no bite,” Max responded as his other teammates crowded around the bed.
2-Stroke set down the bag on the rolling L table and started passing out breakfast burritos. Max took one and said, “I’m starving. The food in here sucks.”
“Give me MREs anytime,” Saint said.
“Yeah, peanut butter and jelly,” Dodger said. “Good stuff.”
“Not as good as the real thing, but pretty darn close,” Saint agreed.
Samantha climbed up onto the edge of the bed, pulling Ceri up with her. “We did your pony profile, Uncle Max.”
Pitbull chuckled, and Dragon grinned.
“You what?” Max said, not sure he’d heard her right and maybe his meds were mixed up.
“P-o-n-y p-r-o-f-i-l-e,” she said again more slowly, as if that was going to help. “You go first, Ceri.”
Ceri shrugged off a small backpack and unzipped it, pulling out a tablet. She turned it on and consulted it. “Your pony name is Music Lightning. You are an earth pony born in Ponyville.” She gave him a cute smile. “You are the luckiest pony this side of The San Palomino Desert! Your best friend is a bunny named Snapper.”
Sam pulled off her backpack and rummaged inside to come out with a bunch of papers. She handed him a drawing in crayon of a strong pony with a black mane and tail. “Your cutie mark is paw prints because you love Jugs.”
On his flank was a set of black pawprints against his green coloring. Beside him was a rabbit with attitude. He laughed and then winced. “Thanks, Sam and Ceri.”
“He’s ponylicious,” Dodger said, and everyone laughed.
“I have one for you too, Uncle Oliver.”
His teammates laughed even harder.
Pitbull cleared his throat. “She has one for each of us.”
“Even Fast Lane?” Saint asked.
“His is the best because he’s so fierce,” Sam said. “Daddy said you’re a tough so and so.”
Fast Lane gave her his sternest look. “Let’s have it, young lady.”
“Coco Hazel. You are a crystal pony born in The Crystal Empire. You are the most soft-hearted pony this side of the Everfree Forest. Your best friend is a buffalo named Whizz.”
At first there was nothing but the rustle of paper as Samantha handed over his drawing.
He had a flowing deep purple mane with orange through it, his body a pristine white with dark splotches of black.
“Don’t leave us in suspense, LT,” 2-Stroke said. “What’s your cutie mark?”
Max coughed and worked at keeping his laughter under control but sobered when he saw his usually stoic commander’s face was moved by the girls. “It’s three tattered pink hearts.” Max looked at Samantha. “Why are they so ripped up, Sam?”
“Because he has to see hard things, do hard things, and make all the hard decisions. It hurts his heart.”
“But he has his guys to help him,” Ceri said. “Just like the ponies. Friendship is magic.”
Out of the mouth of babes. Max pulled both of them into a hard hug. Yeah, that was one thing he could agree with. “Hoo-yah, ladies,” he murmured as all the guys echoed his sentiment.
Then Fast Lane hugged them, and Pitbull and Dragon took them over to the corner to pass out the rest of the pony pictures.
“How are you doing, Max?”
“I’m great, LT. It was a through-and-through, going to be some pain, but no nerve or muscle damage. Might as well have been a flesh wound.”
“But it wasn’t, and I’m not going to downplay this incident as humble as you are. You saved Mak’s life by catching those rounds in your vest. Your back has to be bruised and sore, so let’s cut the crap.”
“She’s one of the team,” he said, thankful that Mak had survived with such a minor injury.
“Yeah, well command disagrees. You’re on medical leave for a bit. They need an instructor over at BUD/S. You report there after you’re discharged.” He lowered his voice. “Keep your eyes peeled. We’ve got ourselves some slime that might have slipped through the cracks. Bring your mad skills to our up and comers.”
Max remembered the sight of the O-course from