I am dying, sir?

I raised the canoe with one hand and I caught firmly a body. Barely had I raised it, when I heard a cry, and I almost lost hold of it. It was as if the current carried the person's legs to try to help save them, but numbed, they no longer responded. The lightness of the body surprised me. By increasing the pressure of my fingers, I succeeded in bringing it to the surface. It was a little girl about six years old.

The feelings I felt were overwhelming.

"I am dying, sir? Tell me." she asked.

I was so cold now - the fire had done its job in burning me - I could not feel much except her heat while I kept her above the waves.

Her hair was mixed with seaweed and her skin was pale after all this time spent in the water. She looked like a dead body that was talking. I swallowed with difficulty, and gently rubbed her back to warm her.

"I've fished you out, right?" I murmured, looking at her with a smile. I squeezed her too tightly to see her face, but I heard her voice trembling slightly.

"Yes. How did you do it?"

These children! Always asking embarrassing questions.

"I am strong. Stronger than you, I mean."

She wanted to reply, but the water decided to come out of her stomach instead.

"Okay," I said. "I gotta get you out of here. Stand still."

She was too weak and seemed terrified to leave her shelter under the pirogue and let the waves take possession of her.

I left with a kick the place where she had created with her beating feet, an abyss devoid of algae. I swam to the shore, holding her under my arm with her head above the water when a wave violently covered her face.

"No!" she cried, pumping her feet, panicked.

The agitation of the river had shaken us and she began to move wildly, and tried to turn and hang on to my neck with weak arms and pulling up her knees.

"Stop it—" I ordered sharply.

"I do not want to drown—" yelled the girl who thrashed again.

"Stop moving!" It was more difficult than I thought. "Let yourself float without moving. Trust me!"

I forced her to remain still, but it was impossible! It was incredible, how she seemed to mobilize all her strength to wriggle!

We were gliding through the waves as if we were being pulled over to the sandy shores. The water flow did not hinder my swimming. I advanced quickly, at a near world record pace. Then I felt sand under my feet but I continued until I was sure she could walk on it.

"We made it. Can you get up?" I let her go and she fell again, head first into the waves. I caught her easily before she choked and I threw her over my shoulder. I said nothing; only my breathing showed my irritation. My boots left huge footprints in the wet sand.

"We will reach the others, by this route," I murmured while changing direction.

As I approached the rescue area, I saw her eyes linger on each face, but she was tired and she dropped her head on my shoulder with a sigh, her arms were around my neck.

It was getting darker and the sun was ready to set. The soldiers had set up this encampment in the only open area that they could find in the jungle. The rain would not take long to start. It was hot. Hot and heavy. The girl was trembling hard and her teeth were chattering

"Colonel, what have you there?"

Victor approached fast. His face was tired.

"Get me a blanket, Victor—" I cried, but I did not have to move more.

He immediately complied. I took the bedspread and I wrapped it around her tightly.

She shivered, her skin was cold... I sat her against the tree on which the last of the sun's rays still lingered, near a tent, gently removing her arms from my neck.

"I am... cooold—" she stammered.

"It will pass," I said and let her go, troubled, stroking her head.

I tried clumsily and in vain to remove some dead seaweed from her hair. I was just pulling her strands of hair. I felt ashamed. She was brave, so little... she made me realize that I was weak.

I walked away; Victor was at my heels.

"I can not help her more—" I muttered.

"It's normal, sir, the children... uh... are special, as my mother said." There was bitterness in his voice. He passed before me, preventing me from asking him what he meant.

I approached Thomas. I wanted to know more about the rescue team. But I could no longer concentrate. All my senses were confused. I did not know if this was due to the number of wounded. I felt the pain, the despair, and the weakness... a discomfort so deep...

Why had that plane crashed here? What was the cause of the crash? Experience had taught me that behind every event was one cause, a trigger and... a reason.

Make it stop—

No, I will not do it... again! I can resist... Oh! This attraction, this... Why now? Why here? What was causing it?