"When you are surrounded by the war, just remember, you were made for this. Don't let the chaos get to you. Help everyone you can. Remember your training."

   Gunshots blend together to form a whirlwind of booming sound. I feel the illusion of safety  behind the boulder. I'm all ready with my supplies. The gray sky touches the field of rocks on the horizon, making it seem as if the whole world is gray today. Can happiness ever be found in times like these?
    There isn't too much trouble back here as the commotion begins. However, after a few minutes the patients start getting dragged and carried in as the noise gets louder. Only the people with major injuries come in. Minor injuries like sprains and minor bullet wounds are ignored. I pull out bullet after bullet from the wounds and bandage countless soldiers. I stop paying attention to faces and go into autopilot mode, just like the busy hours at Mom and I's old clinic. I don't have time to peek out from behind the boulder. I have no clue how the battle is going. All I focus on is getting all of the wounded fit to go back into battle again.
    A soldier is carried in. He's bleeding from his chest. They lay him down and I go over to him. He was shot, and it doesn't look good. I grab my medical tweezers and pull the bullet out. At this point, he's covered in blood. Something isn't right. The bullet must have hit something. He looks at me and grabs my hand as I start to dress the wound.
    "Don't. Too late." He says before coughing.
    "I have to try." I gently squeeze his hand and keep working. The cloth that I laid seconds ago is already turning a crimson red. He coughs one last time, then stops. I search for a pulse but find none. I put my hands together and push down on his chest to perform CPR, but to no avail. He's gone. I tune out of the noise cascading around me and reflect.
    It was only a little over a year ago. I was experimenting after hours in the clinic when my mom called me down to the waiting room. She was supporting a young woman who was bleeding. She put the woman down on an operating table and we worked, but there was nothing we could do. My mother closed the woman's eyelids and whispered to her, "Go home, child." She was the first patient we lost. It left me traumatized.
    "How did this happen? We're supposed to save people, not let them die!" I shouted in a fit.
    "It's not your fault. You can't win every battle in life. In the end, it's the result of the final battle that determines the future. People will die, and that's part of the job. Go wash up," She told me.
    I shut the soldiers eyelids. "Go home soldier," I whisper. I'm not sure what home Mom was referring to when she used to say that, but wherever it is, it must be better than this place. I turn my gaze away from the fallen man and onto my next patient. The battle seems to go on for hours. Dozens of soldiers are brought to my station. Two more pass away. I don't recognize anyone who shows up.
    The flow of patients slows. I somehow catch a break from the commotion and I organize my bag. I keep looking around, but no one's there. Then, I hear a gun cock right behind my head. Panic seizes me. I had been warned about this.
    "Up, medic," a woman's voice says from behind me commandingly. I stand up slowly while sneaking my pistol out of its holster. I may be a medic, but I'm not defenseless. I already showed that to my friends in the Pack, and now it was time to show it on the field.
"Now, walk." The voice says while a hand pushes me forward. I stall the inevitable.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"I don't do questions. You're lucky you're alive. I can't say the same about your friends." She responds.
"And why am I still alive?"
"We have a job for you. Now, don't shout and walk forward if you don't want to join those rebel friends of yours on the ground." I do as she wishes to get her to let her guard down. I won't be able to get away by running. She's too alert for that. My heart starts racing as I realize what I have to do.
It's a war, I tell myself. You'll have to do it sometime. I inhale a deep breath. I take one last step forward, then lean over while turning around and shoot. Her face contorts in shock as she falls to the ground.
"Not today," I whisper before turning away. A shot echoes from behind me and I feel a sharp pain in my left arm. I look down and see a bullet wound. Blood's all over. I turn to the soldier and see a small smile on her face. A gun is in her hand on the ground, but she's climbing back up. The bullet hit her shoulder. She looks angry. I turn and run back to the boulder, dodging shots. It may not be smart to leave her alive, but I can't bring myself to do anything more.
I turn back and see the rebels bringing over another patient. I start to take care of her, then I hear a great shouting. Not from fear, but from jubilation. I smile. The girl in front of me grins in spite of the pain from her broken leg.
    "And that," she says, "Is how it should be." I finish fixing her up and peer around the rocks. A fire is lit on the hill and a group of soldiers is lowering the red flag of Jinan with its flaming arrow emblazoned on it into a bonfire. Leading the group is none other than General Astrid. A huge mass of people is gathering there. I look around my station. There are no other patients, so I pack up my supplies to join the party.
    "Wolves!" General Astrid shouts. The talking quiets down. "We have won another battle! We have shown Jinan that we are a force not to be stopped! They have stolen our freedom, our joy, and our lives and we're here to steal it all back! Look around the fire at all of your fellow soldiers. Bruised and beaten we stand, but we stand nonetheless. Look at the smoke, rising from the fire as the ashes of the flag join the ashes of the earth and all things past. Soon, this country will do the same! It will be nothing but a distant memory of the past. These final stitches of fabric catch flame and fall as this country will if we keep fighting! Each torn flag, each battle won gets us closer. Together, we will win back more than one fortress. We'll win our country back. We'll win our lives back. Those who have fallen here today have fallen for this one purpose. Let's make it count!"
    I look for those I know. I see Roni, smiling and laughing more than anyone else.  Mara'li is standing with a boy a little away from me. Her hair's a mess and there's a huge gash in her forehead. That doesn't stop her from celebrating with the rest of us, though. AJ stands alone with her  arms crossed, looking around with suspicion. Desta is high-fiving and chatting with some other boys.
    I don't see Satica at first, then I look out into the fields. I see her kneeling on some of the gravel at the site. I approach her. There's a man's body on the ground in front of her, dressed in the uniform of Jinan.
    "Who was he?" I ask Satica, sitting beside her. She has tears streaming down her face.
    "He- he was my father."
    "Oh, Satica, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
    "I always knew it may come to this, but it's so hard. He was drafted! He didn't have a choice. And now he's dead because of them." She bows her head down, overcome with grief.  "I just want all this to be over."
    "I know." We sit together for a few minutes, then she stands up.
    "Will you help me bury him?" She asks desperately.
    "Of course," I respond. We dig at the rocky ground until we achieve a good depth for a grave. She lowers him down.
    "I'll miss you, Dad. I'm so sorry." She says before we cover the grave. "Thank you," she tells me when it's done.
"No problem. Do you need someone to talk to on the way back?"
"No. I think I'll want to be alone for a while. But really Taria, thank you. It means alot to me." I nod and walk back to the group. I feel so bad for her. I hate seeing people sad. Why does change always have to come through pain? I help bury all the other fallen soldiers, none that I recognize, before splitting up back into our original groups for the trek back. Commander Marina leads and Tristan follows from the back.
    I walk alone. Satica wants to be left alone in her grief and I don't know where Desta is. We walk a different way back than we did before, but I know better than to ask questions after the trip here. We take back alleys in a small town to avoid eyesight. It feels weird to be back in civilization after the battle. For all these people, life has been going on as normal. Most of the civilians are at work, but I see some of them. They look half starved. Children run around the streets with hollow cheeks. I swear, when we win this war, nobody will ever go hungry again. We get to a sewer grate in the ground and Commander Marina pulls it up. She pulls out a small flashlight and activates it, then begins to disappear down into the tunnel. Everyone assembles into a line and we climb down an iron ladder into the sewer. There are a lot of us, so the grate stays open for awhile as people descend. When we finish climbing, we walk down the sewer tunnel. It smells horrible. The only light is the small one the Commander is holding. The sewers have been long empty, so all I hear are the echoes of footsteps bouncing off the rounded walls.
    After what feels like an hour, Commander Marina stops and starts feeling around for something on the wall.  She steps back as we hear a low whirring sound. A door slides open in the wall. She steps through and we follow. It looks like we're back in the underground tunnel system that leads to base. Home, sweet home. The tunnels twist and turn in a serpentine maze.
    "Hey, cub!" I hear a familiar voice and turn my head. Desta squeezes between people to get next to me.
    "Hey," I respond.
    "Quite the battle, wasn't it?"
    "I didn't see much of it. It was exciting, though."
    "Being a medic sounds boring. You didn't get to see the battle? The people at the top of the hill didn't know what was coming for 'em. Are all your friends okay?"
    "Yep. I can't wait until we get home." When did I start thinking of base as home? I've barely been a member for two days!
    "Same. I hate these tunnels."
    "I'm fine with them, but they look hard to navigate. I can't wait until they actually start to make sense." I respond. He laughs.
    "I've been in the Wolf Pack for the past seven years and they still make no sense. Then again, I try to avoid them as much as possible."
    "You've been in the Wolf Pack for seven years?" I ask, astounded.
    "Yep. When I first got here, it was a ton smaller. There were only about 50 people who were up for open rebellion against the government. All we really focused on was getting more followers, not organizing battles. However, more recently it's gotten a lot more intense." He points out. I laugh.
"I didn't notice. There are more than 50 people now?" I say sarcastically while gesturing around the tunnel. He smiles.
"I know. I just hope it isn't too late."