Typhoon of Steel

by Marshall Miller

  “But she may never…come back to us.”

  “Then it was her choice. Not yours. She choose her path. You did not choose it for her.”

  “She saved my bacon in Wyoming. Twice.”

  “Your sons will be forever grateful, as will I. But what is done is done.” She hugged Torbin tightly again.

  “We can pray for her. Maybe someone will listen. Maybe this time, it will be enough.”

  They stayed hugging each other, seemingly afraid that if they let go, everything would disappear.

  Major Rica Rice was standing at Abigail’s hospital room door. Right now, the young warrior was in a hard sleep, which was better than watching her sit and stare off into space, looking at something no one else could see. The Doctor’s heart began to ache again.

  “Hey, you.” A familiar voice. She looked up to see Emily Anders, veterinarian extraordinaire.

  Rica’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she grabbed Emily in a hug. She began to softly cry, and Emily held on and gently rubbed her back. They stayed that way for a minute, then Rica regained her composure, stepped back. She found some tissues in her pocket, blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

  “Still that bad, huh?” asked Emily.

  “Yes. Abigail’s body is there. Where ‘she’ actually is, that’s the million dollar question.”

  “How are her vital signs?”

  “She’s like a damned energizer bunny. She’ll crash for a while, or just sit there. But piss her off, bother her…”

  Rica swallowed. “She threw three orderlies out the door this morning when they got too close to her. All they were doing was trying to make her comfortable. And she ‘howled’ at them!”

  Rica shivered. “Now the rumor is she is a werewolf. That she got bitten out there.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I wish I was, Emily. I wish I was.”

  They stood in silence for a minute. Then, Emily spoke. “Want to try something…unorthodox?”

  “Hell, I’d call a witch doctor if I thought it would help.”

  “Well, Doctor Rice, I have someone waiting in the car who might just help. I’ve been thinking about it all day. I just need help sneaking him into the hospital.”

  “Him?”

  “Yes. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Abigail sat up in bed, staring off into space. She seemed to be seeing into a universe no one else could see. She breathed normally, blinked her eyes. But unless someone put some applesauce or milk in front of her, she had to go to the bathroom, or someone made the mistake of grabbing her, she did not move. Now it was the morning of the fourth day.

  A voice finally began to ever so slightly break through into her consciousness. “Abigail? Captain Young? It’s Emily Anders. Remember, Fuzz’s vet?”

  Abigail cocked her head slightly as if to hear the voice better.

  Rica pushed in a used laundry basket. Some snuffling sounds were coming from it.

  “Here. A relative of Fuzz wants to meet you. Thought you could tell him stories…of his father.”

  Emily reached in the basket as something big and furry started to climb out. A huge puppy was soon out of the basket, and on the hospital room floor. Almost fifty pounds, very large for having just been weaned, he looked just like Fuzz must have looked as a puppy, though a bit bigger. Medium and dark brown fur, with Fuzz’s ears that stood up but flopped over at the tips. So much did the young dog look like his sire Fuzz, that the only noticeable difference was a small white star on his forehead. He suddenly froze, his nose working a mile a minute. Abigail had visited the litter of pups a couple of times after Emily’s Great Dane had given birth, but had been too busy to see them lately. However, the smart pup’s nose did not forget his sire’s mistress.

  “Here, Abigail. I think he wants to…” Emily began. Before she could react, the puppy, despite his young clumsiness, dashed and clambered up on the bed. Rica and Emily moved forward, afraid of a violent reaction. Instead, a miracle happened. Young Fuzz sat with his muzzle an inch from Abigail’s face, snuffling his nose enough to totally take in her scent.

  Abigail’s eyes finally focused on the brown muzzle. Then she spoke. “Fuzz?”

  “His son,” Emily quickly interjected. “Remember, Abigail? You were there when Fuzz mated with Princess.” The pup licked Abigail, let out a small “woof”, and wagged his tail.

  “Fuzz?” Abigail said again. Her right hand began to touch the young dog’s face.

  “Call him Junior, or Young Fuzz. He’ll answer to both.”

  “Young Fuzz,” Abigail repeated. Then the dam broke.

  She began to cry. She pulled the dogs muzzle to her face and Young Fuzz began to do what dogs have for millennia—licked her tears away. She hugged him, and began to sob.

  “Cousin?” A new voice was at the door. Brynhildr Jorgenson had been checking on her cousin several times a day. The excuse she used was that Abigail would be a material witness for war crime tribunals for captured Krakens. Rica motioned her in, and she shut the door. Brynhildr stood watching her relative sob, and begin to rock back and forth with the dog, Young Fuzz wagging his tail, and licking her. Tears began running down the tall Shield Maiden’s face.

  “She’s back,” she said.

  “Maybe,” Rica replied.

  As if to reply, Abigail spoke. “Where have I been?”

  It took a few moments for the other three women to realize that Abigail had spoken.

  Finally, Rica responded. “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question.” She moved up to the bed.

  “I’m going to check your vitals. Okay?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “Well,” Emily interjected. “You have not been exactly open to touching lately.”

  Abigail gave her a quizzical look.“How long have I been here, at the hospital?”

  “This is the morning of the fourth day,” Rica answered as she felt the Avenging Angel’s pulse.

  “Do you remember…Fuzz?” Emily asked.

  Abigail nodded her head, then began to cry again. Brynhildr walked up and hugged both her and Young Fuzz.

  “I see you, cousin,” she said in Norwegian. “You are back with your people. We are here to help.”

  Abigail hugged her back, as Young Fuzz began licking them both, giving doggy laughs in between. Then, she leaned back.

  “How long have I been here?”

  “This is the morning of the fourth day.”

  Abigail’s eyes widened. “Ichiro.” In a sudden series of moves she was disentangling herself from Brynhildr and the pup.

  “Wait, I need to finish my exam,” Doctor Rice protested.

  “Sorry, Doctor, there is no time.” Abigail suddenly grabbed Rica, hugged and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for everything. I know you watched over me. But I just realized there is something I must tell Ichiro. I feel fine, and I must go…now!”

  Brynhildr suddenly broke into a large grin.

  “I know what that is, cousin,” she said in Norwegian.

  “Please. Do not spoil the surprise,” Abigail answered as she grabbed a clean set of fatigues someone had brought for her from the small closet.

  “But,” Rica began.

  “Let her go, please.” Brynhildr said in English. “And I don’t think you could stop her anyways,

  “I’ll take care of Young Fuzz for you, drop him off at your home later,” Emily said. “He’s yours now. And you are his. As if you couldn’t tell.”

  Abigail quickly hugged Emily. “I am so blessed to have friends like you. Thank you.” In quick order, she hugged Emily, Rica and Brynhildr, then Young Fuzz. She finished changing in record time.

  “I’ll be back,” Abigail said as she glided from the room.

  Just then, a voice called out. “What is going on? Captain, you get back in that room.”

  It was a Hospital Shift Commander, a Lt. Colonel with a short man’s complex.

  “Colonel. It’s okay…” Rica Rice began to say.

 
; “I’ll make that decision, Major. Captain, Come back here.” Abigail took a look at him, smiled, and then began running down the hallway toward the exit.

  “Sergeants. Stop her.” The two orderlies began to run after her until Brynhildr blocked their way.

  “Let her go. She is a Federal material witness, under my protection.”

  The Colonel walked up, red-faced, having to look up to the tall blonde.

  “Move, or I’ll…” He never finished his statement. An unusually strong female hand grabbed his throat and lifted him up on to his toes. The orderlies began to step forward and Brynhildr produced a single-bladed Viking throwing ax from under her parka.

  “Interfere, and I will…” The Shield Maiden left the rest to their imagination. She looked at the man she was holding.

  “Colonel, you’re an idiot. So, I will not allow you to mess with the good Captain. She’s back with the living, has something she must do. Period. Leave her alone. Complain to my Boss all you want. But she stays free. Understand?” With that, Brynhildr shoved him toward his orderly. She stood, axe in hand, her Special Agent badge visible on her belt.

  The Lt. Colonel croaked at her. “This isn’t over yet.”

  “It never is.”

  The three men left. Rica Rice stood next to Brynhildr.

  “He will not let this go.”

  Brynhildr shrugged. “My boss will support me. If not, then my people will. It doesn’t matter. Abigail needed to leave.”

  “I wished I had a cousin like you,” Emily interjected, still holding on to Young Fuzz, who had been watching the conflict. Emily knew that, push comes to shove, the son of Fuzz would have gone after anyone trying to harm Abigail.

  Brynhildr looked at Emily. “How about an adoptive sister?”

  “Deal.” Emily looked at Young Fuzz. “Time to take him to his new home.” She hugged the other two women, took her leave. Brynhildr found a chair, sat down.

  Rica looked at the large woman. “Abigail?”

  “She will be okay. She’s back with us. She will not leave again.”

  As Abigail exited the hospital at a dead run, Ashley Anderson, just back from a Medevac flight, saw her. She swore, grabbed a portable radio, yelled at the other ER personnel that she would be out on the radio, and took off at a dead run also.

  Ashley had been a first class runner in junior high school, just before the Squid Invasion. A coach had told her once that she had the makings of an Olympic athlete. But Abigail was leaving her in the dust. She tried to kick it, but all she could do was keep Abigail in distant sight.

  Abigail felt so free, alive, that she could not believe she had been in a near comatose state for over three days. She had vague memories that were slowly coming back to her, knew how Fuzz had died. But now she had something she had to do now, for her future. Her body had never felt so alive. It was if it had been storing energy for the past few days. Energy that had to be released now. Abigail had never ran so fast. Had anyone been measuring, she would have easily broken pre-Strike world records. Her speed and long legs ate up the distance, and she soon was in sight of the Training Complex. Ichiro was near. She sprinted. Her body seemed to be telling her that it was once again free and well, as was her soul.

  As Abigail approached the entrance to the large training building and gym which was built to supplement the outdoor training fields, two figures watched from a distance, partially concealed on the snowy ground by a tree. Rica Rice had called Aleks and Torbin just as soon as she could, telling them that Abigail was “loose” but seemed alive and well. And that she said she had to see Ichiro.

  Aleks had put two and two together, grinned broadly. “Husband, put your drink down, jump in the car with me. No, I am driving as you have been drinking. Hurry up. Abigail is a fast runner.”

  So they had arrived, and managed to find the tree for cover just as Abigail approached.

  “My God,” exclaimed Torbin. “Look at her move! I knew she was fast, but not that fast.”

  “Running toward love makes you faster, husband.”

  “Is that how it was for you?” Torbin asked with a sly grin.

  Aleks looped her arm through his. “I think you already know that answer, my love.”

  Inside the training building, Ichiro was showing a large class of new recruits the value of unarmed combat. As soon as the Rout of Bloody Kansas began, and it appeared that it would not stop, Ichiro had been pulled off Alert, and training was back in earnest. The attack by the Krakens showed that the Squids were starting a new round of aggression after basically ignoring the remnants of humanity. Any day, instead of a punishment operation attempt by poorly-trained troops, they could expect Krakens supported by battle robs, robocops, and the Soldier Class warriors they had begun producing. Thus, there was an even greater impetus to build up the defensive forces. Looking on and helping him was Senior Training Instructor Stalin.

  “As you can see, the valuable use of Jiu Jitsu works against a larger and armored adversary. We Japanese developed it for combat between or with armored Samurai. Theoretically, given the right circumstances, a robocop could be taken down.”

  Ichiro being focused on the Trainees, a full Platoon, it was Stalin who noticed Abigail standing in the entrance way. He grinned.

  “Excuse me, Major. But you have a visitor.” He nodded toward the entrance.

  “Who,” Ichiro began, looked, and froze. The two humans stared at each other from afar, both seemingly afraid to make a move as it may disrupt the reality.

  “Well, what are you waiting for, Major?” Stalin boomed. “Go say hello. I will handle the class.”

  A few titters were heard as the trainees realized what may be going on.

  “What is that I hear?” Stalin boomed. ”Mirth, laughter? Everybody up. Rifles above your heads. A few laps around the building should help you refocus. Move.”

  Ichiro walked rather stiffly over to the entrance way, stopped a few feet from Abigail.

  “I…I visited you in the hospital. But you did not know me. I thought you were… gone. I should have stayed by your side.” He bowed low. “I am not a worthy person. I should have stayed by your side…”

  “Ichi, please shut up.” Abigail closed the distance. She grabbed his shirt collar, pulled his face close to hers and kissed him. They kissed long and deep, tongues entangled as they blocked out the noise of Stalin’s booming voice, the trainees’ Jody Calls. Finally, they parted.

  “Abby...”

  “Shhhhh.” Abigail put her finger on his lips. “Listen, please.”

  She took a breath, let it out. She then spoke in Japanese.

  “Ichiro Yamamoto, will you marry me? I know it’s traditional for the man to ask the woman, but there is no time. We could die tomorrow. I almost did. Only the help from some good friends, God, and Fuzz dying for me kept me alive.”

  She took his hands her hers, feeling his strength. “The thought of dying without knowing your love has helped awaken me. I need to know if you want to spend our lives together, no matter how short or long they may be. I need to know now.”

  Ichiro quickly knelt on one knee. “I, Ichiro Yamamoto, do hereby pledge my undying love. Yes. I will marry you. I will marry you now, this minute. Please name the date and place. I will be there.”

  Abigail giggled, bent and kissed him. Then, her look was serious.

  “First, Ichi my love, there is something I must do. I overheard the Doctors Rice and Bardun talking after an examination. Apparently I filed it away in my subconscious, and now I can remember.” She paused, collected her thoughts. “I must return to Deseret. I must have some answers. Somebody, some….things maybe, did some modifications on me. The grays found me due to a locator chip that everybody had thought was a piece of shrapnel. My DNA has been tweaked substantially. I am not entirely normal. I may be very…dangerous.”

  She looked into his eyes. “I need to find out. Then you need to decide if you still want me as your wife.”

  Ichiro stood up, took her face in her h
ands and kissed her. “You are talking to someone who was also classified as ‘abnormal’ possibly due to the effects of Fukushima. I am a Squid Killer extraordinaire. A Samurai. And you say you may be dangerous to me? How is that?”

  Abigail began to giggle again. They hugged, and Ichiro began to laugh.

  “Yea, Ichi, I guess it is kind of stupid that I could be dangerous to you. Out of all the men in the world, you’re probably the only one who could handle me.”

  “Good. Abby. Then it is settled. I will go with you to Deseret. Then we can marry.”

  She squeezed him. “But are you sure you want to come with me? It is my problem, not yours.”

  “Abigail. We are to be married. All problems will become our problems. Besides, a Samurai could not let a defenseless woman face danger.”

  After that remark, Abigail obtained a small yelp from him as she jammed a thumb into his ribs. They laughed, held each other tight.

  One of the legendary love stories had begun.

  Outside, Aleks noticed a figure in uniform approach, looking at the entrance to the training building. She recognized the woman as Ashley Anderson, the Sister of Steel who had watched over her in the hospital immediately after the birth of their two sons. Aleks put fingers to her mouth and let out a decidedly loud and unladylike whistle. But it had the desired effect.

  Ashley looked in her direction, and Aleks motioned her over.

  “Still watching over your sisters I see, Sergeant.”

  Ashley saluted Aleks. “Yes Ma’am. A habit I can’t break.”

  “Husband, the young lady I told you about in the hospital. Acts as a Guardian Angel sometimes.”

  “Then I guess we owe her, Aleks. It’s a pleasure.”

  “Thank you, Sir. I take it Abigail is inside and well?”

  “Yes. With a certain Major. We’ll make sure she gets home alright.”

  “Good. Then I need to run back to the hospital. Thank you. Sir, Ma’am.”

  Aleks looked at her. “Come here for a moment.” Ashley stepped up and Aleks hugged her, kissing her on the cheek.

  “You are a true angel. Never forget that.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am. And you’re a true sister. Now I must head back before I’m missed.”