She could ignore the pain. Erica had been shot before, and she remembered how it felt. She remembered the bullet lodged in her flesh and blood seeping out. This was time different, of course; a nearby bomb went off unexpectedly, and it clipped her leg. The blast had caused a gash in her calf, but luckily she avoided any shrapnel. She empathized with soldiers now and understood their pain.
The only comfort out of all of this was Jack. Comfort, she thought, as in awkward glances and touches that tread into dangerous ground. However, they were in a war right now, so Erica wondered if Jack even...
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