She looked around. “It looks like that headlight smacked you in the head. You’re bleeding a little.”“Shit,” he said. “I've got a little fi...st aid kit... “ he reached for his bag.“Let me help you,” the woman replied. She moved over next to him and started tossing Jake’s s**ttered possessions back into his bag. He liked to be prepared. Keys, a card with his name and address, a notebook, a pocketknife, some spare change… he kept all sorts of things in his bag. She held up a small red object. “Is. . , " she said in quavering, unaccented English.It took me a minute to realize she was waiting for me to supply my name. I smiled at her and shook my head. "Sergeant is fine, ma'am. And who are you, if you don't mind me asking? Most Afghanis are not much on the unaccented English around here."She started to smile but her lip split, making her grimace. Even as wrecked as she was, there was an almost otherworldly beauty to her that made me fiercely glad that none of these idiots survived. Given. More

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