Paz was leery of Nita sleeping--it was very likely that she had a concussion--but after a well stated plea, she had convinced him to let her doze off for at least a few minutes. He watched the steady movement in her side as she breathed and wondered what would become of them. The war she spoke of seemed vaguely familiar; a hint of recognition tugged at the corners of his mind, but he couldn't quite make out the full image.
The harder Paz tried to place a finger on Nita's war, the harder it was for him to remember even the little things. Where was he from? Why was he in this particular location? The longer he thought, the less he knew. It was unsettling. For all he knew, he was on the opposing side of this war and should be killing Nita instead of helping her.
No. Don't think that. Paz told himself. One thing he could be certain of was that he was no killer. His instincts told him he was supposed to save people. He had known they needed to stop the bleeding and he had known it was possible that she might have a concussion. Perhaps he was a medic...
Regardless, he needed to figure out what was happening. Sometime in the very near future, he would have to decide if he and Nita were enemies or allies. He needed to know on what side of the war he stood. Once he was certain Nita was safe and sound asleep, he swam away.
