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Summary
He can barely think, his brain switched off from exhaustion and terror, reduced to sheer instincts, following orders and a horrible routine, ingrained into his very body by now. He is carrying Lewis, a grown man thrown over his back like a sack of potatoes. He has no idea how far he has been walking, focused solely on the next step and on hopefully avoiding shells falling all over them. There is an ambulance in sight, waiting for them, hands reaching to help him take Lewis off him without injuring him farther, and settle him promptly into the back of the car. He raises his head to look at the driver and freezes in shock, certain that he finally has snapped, that his mind could not take it anymore and went straight into hallucination.
The driver is a woman, not an uncommon sight those days, but this particular woman has no business being here, in the middle of most literal hell.
“Mary?” he rasps, disbelieving.