Chilled wind swept across the bloodied ground and lanced through Kai's hair, lifting strands that had been plastered with the dark blood. Kai's fingers trembled around the sword's handle.
"I'm sorry, MJ." His grip loosened, causing the sword to slip from his fingers and clatter against the ground.
Kai's knees buckled and slammed into the puddle of blood he stood in. Some of the blood splashed upward and speckled his chin, chest, and the sleeves of his shirt.
Behind him, boots scraped across the debris as the remaining soldiers forced themselves up, groaning. One clutched his side where blood seeped between his fingers. Another limped, his left leg dragging him down.
They moved toward the soldiers who were lying there, their faces turned toward the dark sky.
Among them, a soldier between the ages of twenty to twenty-five stumbled toward the MRAP. He gripped the door, pulled himself inside, and fumbled for the communication unit.
