Free Echo-Foxtrot by Clare Revell

wanted her to stop feeling sorry for herself.
    As a medic passed, Lou asked for an envelope and some notepaper. The medic gave her some along with a pen. Lou chewed on the pen lid for a moment, then began to write. It took several attempts until she was sure it was right. She shoved it in the envelope and wrote Colonel Jack Fitzgerald on the front. She put it on the bedside table, then destroyed the other attempts. She put the notebook on top of the letter and closed her eyes.
    She heard someone come in, but pretended she was asleep. She didn’t want another lecture. There had been way too many of them for one day.
    ****
    The following morning, Lou once again refused breakfast. Just the smell of the food on the tray the doctor held turned her stomach. “I’m not hungry.”
    Dr. Andrews rolled her eyes. “Then you need to drink something. Otherwise, you can’t have more painkillers.”
    Lou huffed. “Fine. Tea, white with two sugars.”
    The doctor just stood there. “And what’s the magic word?”
    Lou shook her head. “You sound just like my mother. Please.”
    Dr. Andrews smiled. “Sure. And my mother did the same thing to me. It must be a universal parental tactic to make us say please.” She disappeared, taking the tray with her. She soon returned with a cup. “Here you go.”
    “Thank you.” Lou wrapped her hands around the cup, relishing the warmth.
    “On a scale of one to ten, one being no pain and ten being pretty bad, how’s your leg this morning?”
    “Not there,” she replied flatly.
    Dr. Andrews raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
    Lou sipped the tea. “Yeah, really. Even I can see that my leg is no longer there and I’m just a kid, not a doctor.”
    The doctor smiled. “OK, let me rephrase the question. How is your pain level?”
    “Nine.” She swallowed. “Can I ask you something?”
    The doctor perched on the edge of the bed. “Sure, if I can ask something in return.”
    “OK.” She figured she’d probably regret agreeing to that, but oh well. “Am I still dying?”
    “Dying? What makes you think that?”
    “I heard you talking several times when I was sleeping. About me not making it. And besides, Mafuso said the same thing. That my leg was too bad and the infection would kill me.”
    Dr. Andrews nodded. “It would have done if you hadn’t been rescued when you were, and yes, you were pretty sick. You crashed about three or four times, and it was touch and go for a few hours when you first got here, but you’re doing fine now.”
    “Really?” she whispered.
    “Yeah, really. There’s no sign of infection and the meds I’m giving you will get rid of what bugs are left in your system. There’s no reason why you won’t live to be ninety or so.”
    Lou looked at her. She wasn’t sure if she were relieved or not. “OK. You wanted to ask something in return.”
    Dr. Andrews pulled out her notebook. “What did you use for pain meds on the island?”
    “Ailsa made something with a plant. She called it mytona. It was brilliant stuff. At least to start with, ’cause it numbed the pain for hours. It tasted disgusting though. You’ll have to ask her what plant it was. Mafuso did the same.”
    “You mentioned him just now. He was the medic in the village?”
    Lou took a deep drink of the tea. The only problem now her stomach had something in it, it wanted more. But it couldn’t have it. Her stubborn streak kicked in hard. She’d said no to breakfast, so that was the end of it. “Yeah, he was.” She set the cup down. “One of the good guys.”
    “You liked him?”
    “He’s married, so it’s irrelevant.”
    “I didn’t mean like him, like him.” Dr. Andrews grinned. “But it makes it easier to respond to people when you get along with them.”
    Lou nodded slightly.
    “I had this boss once…not on this base, but another one. He was an ogre.”
    “Really?” An image of a green monster in uniform floated through Lou’s mind.
    “Oh, yeah. Annoy him and he’d have you