I was sat up in my hospital bed simply sharpening a wooden stick to pass the time. I would slide the knife right under the outermost layer of wood and simply repeat this process.

The boss was still unconscious in the bed next to me. John was across from me being pumped full of Gel into the open hole in his chest. I was lucky. I was also shot in the chest but the bullet only grazed my lungs. It was still a life-threatening injury, but luckily reinforcements showed up significantly sooner than what the boss predicted.

I remember him shouting for ten minutes, but backup arrived in three. Luckily it was one of the more experienced squads with a trained medic who went straight to work on our Sergeant and John, as well as me eventually.

Thinking back on that whole ordeal, we were lucky to have just us three here in the infirmary. We were swarmed by the enemies, on both sides and having nowhere to retreat to.

Cause of our hold, Ken had come in here yesterday excitedly saying we were getting raises. I don’t want a raise though; I just want to go home. Luckily, we got our boss, unlike the other sergeants, he is quite intelligent. He predicted that instance and had us all buy some Gel. Granted it did come from our personal wages. But thankfully it was what let us get through the initial tide of enemies.

I eventually pushed all thoughts from my head and went back to nonchalantly carving these sticks. It’s been five days since we were admitted and I’ve successfully made a little more than a dozen of these darts. They’re not just useless pieces of sharp wood, I can use my brute strength and throw them as a weapon that’ll be able to at least maim someone if my aim is true.

A few more hours went by before Dave and some of the others showed up. Specifically, it was Dave, Condie, Smoke, and Sam.

Dave went first, “Hey Danny how’re you holdin up?” He let out a big forced smile and waved at me.

I could only shrug in response.

Sam’s twiglike limbs smacked him in the back of the head, “You idiot, you know Danny can’t talk.”

I smiled; just like me not being able to speak I can’t laugh. Sam is the complete opposite of me but he’s probably the one who looks out for me the most. I was large and quiet while he was small, skinny, and loud.

Dave gave his apologies and went and sat next to the boss and started mumbling to himself.

Condie and Sam sat next to me and told me what happened the past two days. Firstly, we are all getting some great raises, secondly, we’re all temporarily relieved of duty, and thirdly we’ll be getting transferred to a different front as soon as we three make a recovery.

I pointed at John and tilted my head. Sam Shrugged, “The Doc says he doesn’t know if John will even wake up. Normally he wouldn’t be wasting any Gel on an injury like that but the new general insisted on it.”

I grabbed my notepad and pen, ‘New General’? Who is it? Sam sighed, “We don’t know yet man, first I had heard we even had a general out here in the first place.”

Condie laughed, “Rumor has it he is some big hotshot making rounds through the different battlefields recruiting talents.”

Why does he need talents so badly?

“Well rumor has it we’re going to war with another nation soon.” Condie said.

“The only one that makes sense is the Southern Alliance. But It doesn’t make sense because put together they’re all as big as the Eastern Empire.” Sam proclaimed.

I leaned back in bed and pondered that thought while Condie and Sam went back and forth. Eventually, Dave came over and joined the heated discussion.

A new front would be a pretty odd decision from the higher-ups. Especially considering that even while pouring most of our resources into this war, we’re stuck at a stalemate with our Eastern counterparts. Taking away talents from too many places would lead to us losing ground and lives needlessly giving them the upper hand.

But which general would personally go around recruiting talents? And on whose authority can they take them from all of these other commanders? I can’t think of any. The more I thought about it, the more confused I got. Thus I eventually went to sleep to the sounds of Sam and Dave laughing.

I awoke in the middle of the night to the rapping of someone tapping on my metal bedframe. I groggily sat up expecting the boss or John to have awoken but instead, I was greeted by the shadowy figure of a short pudgy older gentleman with tufts of scraggly hair glistening in the moonlight.

He stepped back and I saw his full face. My heart sank when he spoke, “Well well well, look at who it is! I was wondering where you went to after you dropped out of our special little team. How’ve you been?”

I just stared at him. He was the sole reason why I couldn't talk after all.

He chuckled, “Cat got your tongue? Maybe feeling a little bit speechless? Hahahaha, anyway; You got yourself a good little boss right here.” He walked over and slapped the sergeant’s bedframe. “This little guy right here proved himself in that last battle. Proved himself so well in fact, that he has been chosen to serve our glorious nation on a new appealing offensive that will give him ample more opportunities.”

I scrambled to grab my notepad from my nightstand. But as I grabbed it he came over and grabbed my wrist. I tried shaking him off but he was just too strong.

“No need for that Dan, just listen to me for now. I need you to do something for me. Something very important. I need you to watch your sergeant over there for me. If he ever expresses any traitorous thoughts or actions I need you to let me know. Talent like him grows like roses. Either he blooms and shines beautifully or he grows thorns that poke the hand that nurtured it.”

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I just stared at him for a moment, he wanted me to be his watcher. I licked my dry lips and slowly nodded.

He smiled and bid me farewell before leaving.

I didn’t get much sleep the rest of the night.

The next day the nurses hooked me back up to a Gel Pump that was tirelessly pumping dark red Gel straight into the open wound. I groaned and grabbed the notepad. How much does this cost again per minute?

The nurse read it and looked up at me and giggled, “I don’t know exactly what ya’ll did but the General said he’s paying for it.” That made me smile and I went back to sleep.

Two days later I was discharged with a closed wound. They warned me not to overexert myself because it could reopen but I’ll be fine. I made my way to the barracks. On the walk there I kept thinking about our sergeant. He made us all buy that Gel, and not a single one of us was happy about it, three people even transferred out into another squad. He also hasn’t done anything remarkable until now. The only thing he seems to do is joke and keep us in high spirits constantly, which to be fair is a nice welcome change. I guess some people just need actual combat to show off their skills.

I finally stood in front of the flap to the barracks and breathed in. I exhaled and walked in. Immediately everyone’s faces perked up and ran over to greet me. Except for some of the older guys.

Dave and Sam made a big show of dusting off my bunk and kneeling at it. My bunk was always closest to the door; the serious/a little joking reason was because I was huge and could body-block the others behind me. I swatted them away to see Ken kind of looking at me expectantly. I cocked my head.

The redhead’s eyes lit up, “How’s the sergeant? Is John still in a coma? You good to go for a run tomorrow?” His voice always got high pitched when he was excited which showcased his age.

It was my turn to make a big show of digging through my pack for my notepad. I pulled it out and wrote what the nurses had relayed to me. Boss’ breathing has stabilized significantly, the shot through his left lung has closed up and they’re now forcing some new gaseous Gel into him. John is the same, the hole has slightly closed but nothing noticeable. I shrugged afterward.

The same old piece of news seemed to get them excited. Looking around I realized I was actually in pretty good condition compared to the rest of them. Smoke had his shoulder wrapped in some light pink bandages. Heavy had a dark red bandage wrapped around his palm. Ken had a pretty bruised and scabbed-up face. Nathan’s arm was in a sling. Wilfred looked perfectly fine. Condie was actually in the middle of changing the bandages on his shoulder and hand from when he was grazed pretty deeply.

My jaw clenched just thinking about how only three of us were getting nursed back to health while the rest had to just suck it up. I made small talk with everyone and decided I was going to do something about it.

Overall, the squad was in varying mental states. Ken and Sam seemed to be elated, but then Condie and Smoke were in pretty low spirits. I’m assuming due to their injuries.

The rest of the day was a blur. I talked and chatted for another hour or two before we as a group went to the canteen for supper. All before we all went to bed that night. I however didn’t immediately go to sleep, I got to writing a very particular letter.

The next day me and Ken got up early for our run. We walked our way in silence as he was not that much of a morning person. Usually, we run opposite the trenches in the middle of nowhere following the dirt roads leading to civilization. Ken claims the silence and morning humidity helps with the fact we get up so early. Walking there I noticed a lot more people with injuries and more patrols.

After about ten minutes, I motioned at them and Ken understood what I meant. We walked up to a man just kind of lounging in the hallway against the wall with bloody bandages over his nose and arm.

After talking to him I learned a few things. There have been consistent raids with varying success every couple of days. Last night was apparently the worst yet where the entire outer trench had been taken over but after a sacrificial counteroffensive, we had retaken it. I don’t even remember any alarms going off is the most confusing part.

After eventually bidding farewell, we continued on. It took us about thirty more minutes of a brisk walk to get to the outer gate but after showing ID we were let through. We weren't quite where we liked to go quite yet as we wanted to get through the ten minutes or so of rocky, slippery gravel until we hit the dirt road. But once we were there, we performed some basic stretches and began our mini-marathon.

It was refreshing compared to being cooped up in that stuffy room stuck lying down and some walking around here and there. The nice cool breeze hit my dampened skin as I methodically placed one foot in front of the other. No talking, just the sounds of an occasional bird. Rather than dark neutral-colored tents and rocky terrain, we could gaze out into the nice green grasslands. We could honestly probably farm here, but I don’t make the decisions.

Our run continued smoothly, every twenty minutes or so I had to stop and take a breather. Thankfully Ken was understanding and waited patiently. We ran about an hour before we turned back. The cramping of my calves, the tightening of my chest, and my mouth becoming dry were all so masochistically addicting I wanted to go even further and faster. But when I tried I just couldn’t, I almost immediately fell with my legs shaking and gasping for breath.

Ken immediately propped me up and started massaging my calves. I’ve done the same for him a lot so I guess it’s just his turn now. This was a pretty big wake-up call. This injury and inanimate recuperation really took a toll on my overall fitness. I’m going to have to start working out again.

Eventually, I got up and we walked back with Ken being a shoulder I had to lean on every now and then. It was probably an odd sight: a big burly man using a slim average man as pretty much a crutch because I had to grab his shoulder and it forced him to hunch forward.

Eventually, we made it back. I used my weak muscles as an excuse to go to the infirmary. When I got to the same room I had been cooped up in, I flagged down one of the nurses and with a prewritten note, asked if there was by chance a new Doctor with a hunched back. The curly-haired nurse looked astonished and hesitantly nodded. I wrote on another note Bring me to him.

Almost as if she was in some sort of trance she walked with me past emergency center after emergency center. I never knew how big the infirmary building was until now. Eventually, we made it to a random door nestled between two infirmary wards where she knocked and left.

As expected, a familiar face opened the door, looked me up and down, and exclaimed, “By the Council! I thought you were dead Daniel.” His scruffy old voice brought back a lot of fond memories.

I rustled through the backpack and pulled out the prewritten note saying I didn’t have time to catch up, but please bring this letter to the general. I then procured the letter I wrote last night and handed it over before rushing off. As I hurriedly walked away I ignored his shouts to hold up a minute. While I have fond memories with the Doctor, it was during a time filled with a lot worse.

That evening at dinner after inquiring with other tables, Ken came back and shared some odd news. During all the recent raids everyone was being mobilized for the counter-offensive except for those in the D and E wings. We were located in the D wing so we were lucky. There was lots of speculation, but no one could pinpoint why. But alas no one cared enough as long as they didn’t have to go risk their lives.

While we were eating that night, a Doctor randomly waltzed up and announced “In three days your squad will receive mandatory treatment Alongside your bedridden squad member and Sergeant by order of the General.” And simply walked away.

While my brothers-in-arms were joyfully talking about this sudden news I could only smile bitterly. It was great we were all receiving treatment but it was my condition for my contract. I was back to square one of being a Watcher for my old boss after so desperately escaping.