"Holy Hell," Bills shouted. "Somebody help him!"
Carlo heard the crack as Robles smacked headfirst into the top of the capsule. A light spray of blood rained down, a thin crimson vapor. Carlo's stomach churned, both sickened by the horror unfolding before him and mortified as he inhaled Robles' bloody spray.
Suddenly a buckle unclicked beside him. The Korean private that had been reading his dime store paperback earlier had freed himself from his restraints and hurtled beneath Robles. As the sergeant fell back to the flooring, the now unrestrained private weaved with the swaying of the capsule and thrust himself between his sergeant and what could be a fatal landing - if the man wasn't already dead. Robles impacted his savior, and try as the private did, twisted and smacked against the floor with an audible crunch, as his legs twisted, snapped, then bent back beneath Robles as if a shirt being folded.
His flesh tore and the splinters of his femur pierced from one leg spearing the air. Blood gushed with the sudden puncture pooling below the jumble of sergeant and private and sloshing across the flooring with every tilt of the capsule.
Robles made no sound. The man was dead or unconscious, and though he believed in no higher power, Carlo thanked God that the man wasn't awake. If he was alive, Robles had plenty of pain waiting for him. There was no need for him to endure this hell.
A growing urgency flooding the descent vehicle, Simmons began barking commands. "Lance,get that radio working. Park, strap in now. Everyone else, hold tight."
The capsule bucked swaying up in the opposite direction still caught in the tumble as it lurched back into a parachute descent. As it did, Park, as Carlo now believed to be the private's name, rolled gently over Robles placing himself between the sergeant and the wall towards which he now slid with the shifting of the capsule. Park planted his feet, fighting the slide, doing everything in his power to keep Robles steady.
"No chance in hell, sir," Park said, ignoring Simmons order.
The two slid into Waller's legs? Walker's legs. Damn it! Carlo had spent so much time reviewing the colony data he hadn't had time to fully acquaint himself with Cerebus's crew.
As he cursed himself for this oversight, Waller unbuckled herself. Yes, Carlo thought, I'll just call her Waller until I know better.
The capsule swayed threatening a 180 degree pivot. With no time for thought, Waller grabbed her safety buckle with one hand and Park with the other. While Waller clung to him, Park propped himself over Robles, steadying him to prevent further damage.
To Carlo's left he could see Karzai reaching for her buckle as well. Simmons piped in once more.
"No one else unstraps. That's an order!"
"Sir!" Karzai, and she wasn't offering an agreement so much as indignation.
"Our mission is to get the package to Lacroix. We can't do that if we're all dead before we land. Do you hear me?"
A chorus of yes sirs rose around the capsule, but it was not unanimous. Waller and Park ignored Simmons, already in violation of his orders, but Carlo could make a case that they hadn't been included in the command. They were both also privates directly under Robles and their loyalty could not be questioned. Only one private from team Baker affirmed Simmons command: Ruegger, the brooding intellect.
Team Able, however, all affirmed their staff sergeant's order - all save Karzai. She stood her ground, defiant in her silence. As the two faced off, the capsule slowly swayed returning to a peaceful descent. Waller knelt over Robles, holding his hand and speaking into his ear. What she was saying, Carlo could not hear, but there was a tenderness there, a bond born of years. Meanwhile, Park scrambled tearing open a floor hatch and ripping out medical supplies from the storage unit beneath, examining each in passing and discarding them all until he had his prize. Happy with his find, Park ran back to Robles, two packages in his hand.
![»Abolition« [ERROR#2] by Ly_Arlay](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/131251045-80-k380950.jpg)
Satisfied that Karzai had for the moment been cowed, Simmons turned his attention back to Park and Waller.
"Walcott! Get your ass in your seat now."
Walcott, that's her name, Carlo thought with a sudden rush of recognition. What the hell is wrong with you!
Walcott ignored Simmons completely.
"And Park," Simmons continued. "Secure that man into a crash couch."
Park ripped out a neck brace from the first pouch, and glanced to his fellow insubordinate. "Walcott, carefully as you can, gently lift his head. Just a fraction mind you. Keep it straight with his spine."
Walcott continued to hold Robles hand and pray.
"Help me, or strap in!" His every action shouted urgency, but also efficiency. There could be no doubt. Park was the squad's medic.
At last Walcott stirred. "Like so?" she asked, shifting Robles head up by about a centimeter.
"Perfect." Park slipped the neck brace under Robles' head and snapped it together, securing his neck. "Just perfect. Okay, I need you to take this." Park tossed the second pouch to Walcott. "Press the gauze to his right leg, careful not to move the exposed bone. Whatever you do, don't push that back in. Understood? Just staunch the bleeding."
"Yes." Walcott ripped open the pouch, sliding over to Robles' broken legs, his femur jutting through ragged flesh. Gently she laid the gauze down, pressing it to the wound as best as she could.
"Good, good. Just like that." Park paid her almost no mind, slowly tilting back Robles' jaw. He glanced into his patient's open maw.
"Park, damn you, secure him now! That's an order."
"I heard you the first time, sir. No can do."
Before Carlo's eyes, Simmons was losing his command.
"Moving him could deal irreparable damage," Park continued. Relieved by what he saw in his patient's mouth, Park angled Robles' jaw closed, then lightly placed one hand on his patient's lower chest, and lowered his ear to Robles' mouth and nose.
"He's breathing."
Simmons breathed his own sigh of relief. Human after all, Carlo thought, though he doubted that would help him recover his command. Instantly Simmons proved that assessment correct.
"Good." Simmons said, "Now secure him."
"Still no, sir. That's just the start." Park stood and lurched back to the medical hatch. He called back to Walcott. "Keep him steady and the gauze secure."
"Affirmative," she answered.
Karzai watched from the sidelines still seething over Simmons' rebuke. Carlo could see it in her eyes. She needed to be in the action. She needed to help. Simmons motioned as if to intervene, but Lance touched his shoulder, a gentle reassurance as much as it was a warning. The staff Sergeant held his tongue.
Park returned with a long metal splint covered in straps. At its top, it had a wide base flaring out. He set it to the floor, then removed a tourniquet, which he proceeded to rope around Robles' thigh. "You have him steady, Walcott?" He yanked the tourniquet tight and tied it off.
Walcott didn't respond, but simply stared down at her hands, blood oozing through the the gauze, the dark crimson staining the reddish, russet brown of her skin. The gauze had completely soaked through, left now almost useless.
"Walcott?"
She muttered under her breath in response. Though he couldn't be certain, Carlo felt fairly positive she had said 'Today's the day,' whatever the hell that meant.
![The Silence of Alium [On Hiatus]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/123335565-64-k602991.jpg)