Messner was still recovering from the impact of landing in knee-deep water when he heard someone moaning next to him.
Krakauer.
He instantly let go of the wet parachute he was trying to pick up to hide, and went to his teammate lying in the water instead.
Grabbing him by the armpits, he turned his mate towards him.
A pointy iron bar had gone through his right eye and come out his temple.
His eye was gone.
Blood was streaming down his cheek the way a tear would.
The Baker Team doctor had never seen anything like that before.
Despite being a doctor, the sight of his friend lying there, in the state he was in, sent an awful chill up his back, almost electrocuting.
For a moment, Messner simply stood there, paralysed by the sight of his seriously injured friend. That pole had gone right through him.
He must have fallen right onto it as he was landing.
Traps.
The entire rice-field was probably full of them.
A man short.
We’ll have to do the rest of the mission a man short.
Krakauer was supposed to carry one of the gas tanks.
What a fucking mess.
That was the trained part of him talking, the one that always kept going, stopping at nothing.
His soul was down there deep inside him too however.
I need to know whether he’ll survive or not – he thought to himself.
Acting quickly, he pulled out his L-shaped flash light while his heart pounded harder and harder inside his chest.
Once turned on, Messner directed its soft red light to the iron bar. Although it went right through Krakauer's temple from one side to the other, it had come out the side of his eye. By doing so, it had missed the centre of his head, and the reason why Karaka was still alive.
Jesus fucking Christ
He was alive, and that wasn’t all.
He was alive and conscious too, given the fact he was still standing.
Messner saw Krakauer had his mouth wide open and his tongue was sticking out stuck but he wasn’t making a sound (and that was good considering they were in enemy territory).
Meaning that the pain was so acute, he could hardly breathe much less moan.
His working eye was still, staring blankly ahead. The pain...
The pain had to be excruciating.
I have to get that fucking bar out of his head – was the first thing that crossed his mind, but that was rookie thinking.
No you don’t.
No, you have to leave it in there.
The reason was for the sake of the arteries, of course. Had he pulled the pole out, the blood loss would have killed Krakauer long before he ever made it to the hospital, so he had to leave it.
Hospital? What fucking hospital?
He’s not going to any fucking hospital.
Messner realized Krakauer's hands were starting to shake.
You have to stabilize him, Doc. You can still save him.
We’ll leave him behind and complete the mission.
Then we’ll come back and get him.
Yeah, that’s what we’ll do.
If he can walk, Krauk can still do it too.
Messner couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t just apply logic or rationale to get through this because they weren’t just talking about any injured patient for Christ’s sake. It was a friend, his friend, Goddamn it, and Messner couldn't help but be overwhelmed, almost infected it. The sensation he was getting from the eye itself and what his friend felt was incapacitating, because it was so strong. Too strong and that was it.
A sense of fear and horror, almost nausea overtook him.
Empathy had put him in his friend's place giving him a clear idea of what he might be feeling at that particular moment.
No, no, come on, what are you doin'?
Stop right there, get a grip on yourself.
You’re in enemy territory, for fuck’s sake.
Pull yourself together.
You can’t give a fuck.
You can’t stop thinking.
Whatever happens, just don't care.
Messner started taking the things he needed out of his rucksack to stabilize that... that thing.
That thing his friend Krakauer had just become.