Second Chance War 21 Time-Phase Report; Thomas Awakes

The report gets worse, in Thomas's second year of middle school, Kincade attacked without warning when Thomas fell asleep in history cla.s.s during a WWII lecture. The entire school was nothing but a smoldering wreck by the time rescue crews arrived. Thomas had won his battle, but a great cost. He was then transferred to a special military school at the age of sixteen. At eighteen he was inducted into the military and through extreme conditions, his memory was altered, his past forgotten. In hindsight, this was a pretty bad plan because the next incident took place in his first month of boot camp.

Camp Young was razed to the ground, as far as Thomas knows, he was only three days in when we brought him here. Major General Hughes was told to tell him that boot camp had long been over, but the truth is far worse than that. It's actually December and Thomas has been here at this cla.s.sified facility for five months since the incident at Camp Young. Officially in the report, Camp Young was decommissioned as a failure. Unofficially, all occupants had been slain by Thomas and Kincade during an intense field op where Thomas was rendered unconscious. That was just some of the report, the rest of it is just too horrific for Hughes to keep reading.

Hughes sighed and put the report down. At least this time, the damage was contained. Only fifteen souls lost and two hundred thousand dollars of damage. The two guards outside Thomas's door had been brutally killed and this was witnessed by three other guards who got off with serious injuries. Actually, that's where this report came from, the three guards who had seen Thomas initially. All three were crippled for life now, missing either an arm or a leg or both. There wasn't a single whole piece to send to the families of the two guards, he can only say they died in a training accident or field exercise by an explosion. Hughs pulled out some paperwork and began filling out forms, it was going to be a long night.

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Thomas could feel again, though his world remained shrouded in darkness. He could move his fingers a little bit, he wasn't dead, but he was something, somewhere. His hearing came into focus, he heard the beeping of a machine, slow and steady. Where was he? He felt someone lift his harm and gently touch his wrist, feeling his pulse? He tried to move his hand again, success! His hand twitched, the person dropped his arm and ran to the door shouting for the doctor. Ah, he was in a medical facility, that explains a lot.

"Doctor! Doctor! He's conscious again!" The voice was pleasantly female, like the singing of a lark, it was music to his ears. Probably the best thing to wake up to in his opinion. His eyes opened a hair after a minute of trying, the world was a weird kaleidoscope, how did that happen? The voice came back. "No, don't open your eyes, they're not ready yet!" A smooth hand covered his eyes, it was the purest softest white he'd ever seen in his life or was until she covered his eyes and everything faded to black again. He was thirsty, he needed water, his throat was dry, he tried to speak.

"Water," it came out a dry raspy croak as if someone took sandpaper and rubbed it together to produce sound. Barely audible, but in this almost noise free environment that was all he needed for the nurse to hear him. He could hear her hustling and bustling in the room, the sound of it, made it seem the room was quite large in size. She returned and he sat him up gently as she tipped a gla.s.s filled with water, it was like a rainfall during a drought or an oasis in the desert of his parched throat.

He tried to remember what happened, but all he came up with was a blank. He remembered going to lay down and after he closed his eyes, everything was a blank. He struggled to sit up, but the nurse gently pushed him back down.

"You can't sit up yet, your wounds are still closing," the nurse explained. Wounds...he had wounds? Where did he get the wounds from? Did he have another fight with Kincade? Speaking of Kincade his hands clenched tightly and his lacerations opened up, blood oozing from the wounds and dripping on the floor.

"You need to calm down Thomas, please calm down," the nurse administered first aid, she bound his wounds again, the white cloth quickly soaked red with blood, the speed at which it did so was astonis.h.i.+ng. The nurse worked quickly, she bound the hand again and put pressure on it to try to staunch the bleeding. She felt pity for this soldier, this man, she knew a little bit about his circ.u.mstances because the doctor warned the whole team of what might happen if they didn't follow the unique procedures for this man. His name was Thomas she learned, and she felt pity because no man deserved this fate. It was certainly worse than death.

Thomas knew what the nurse was thinking, how could he not? Were the positions swapped, he too would feel pity and maybe sympathy. He should address the problem before it gets out of hand.

"Do not feel pity for me, I couldn't ask for more," Thomas's voice was still raspy, but now it sounded like leathery sandpaper instead of sandpaper on sandpaper. His voice was also slightly louder.

"I.." The nurse fought for words, she tried to deny that is what she was doing, but she stopped herself. She couldn't lie to this man. If it was anyone else...just not this man. This man of two lifetimes. She couldn't imagine fighting the same war twice over two different lives. She immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's okay, I am proud of what I do, and I love my country." Thomas sighed. If only he could see, and move. He hated this, it was the worst part of being in this lifetime. A small growl of frustration escaped his throat, along with a splash of blood. His throat burned now, it tasted like copper, mixed with iron. A very metallic taste, as blood should taste. The nurse admonished him again, told him to rest, but don't fall asleep. She will be back in a few minutes to check up on him, she had to file a report.

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Hughes was sitting in his office when a young nurse stepped in. It was the nurse from the operating suite, normally you wouldn't keep a patient in there, but Thomas's condition was too serious for him to be moved anywhere else. She was attractive, a young woman in her twenties. She had long black hair down past her shoulders, full lips, a b.u.t.ton nose, and wide green eyes. She cut a great hourgla.s.s figure, but it must be hard to maintain that image.

"Sir, Captain Thomas is awake!" The nurse reported, her eyes showed sympathy, but also...determination? No matter, it was none of his concern.

"Thank you, Elaine. Please continue to watch the Good Captain." Major General Hughes said. "You can go now." After she left, Hughes picked up the rotary phone on his desk and dialed a few numbers.

"Sir?" A man on the other end of the phone answered.

"This is Hughes, the Captain is awake. Begin immediately."

"Yes, sir!" The phone went dead as the soldier hung up. There was work to do, and not much time to do it. This all depended on Thomas. Everything depended on Thomas.