Hope's Return

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Hope's Return Page 10

by Jay J. Falconer


  Krista was tired of waiting. “Well?”

  “Everything looks just a little too random, don’t you think?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it looks like Helena was trying to make it appear she was traveling through here for all different reasons and did so over time. But the tracks are all the same age. Plus, there’s a pattern here, if you know where to look.”

  Krista took another gander at the tracks around her. She couldn’t identify the pattern he mentioned.

  Horton stood and walked about ten yards to the right, bending down and testing another set of footprints.

  A minute later, he got to his feet and rubbed his hands together, as if he were washing the dirt from his hands.

  He pointed to the right, at the top of the hill thirty yards ahead. A trail of prints led in the same direction. “That way.”

  Krista grabbed the hair on the back of his head, yanking hard on the mop of gray. “You only get one chance to be wrong.”

  “She went that way. I’m sure of it.”

  Krista let go of his hair.

  Horton took a step forward, nodding. “Looks like she was in a hurry, too. Just look at the space between the prints, plus the deeper depressions around her toes. She was running.”

  “Don’t they always run?” Krista asked in a glib tone, not expecting an answer.

  “Not her. She never just reacts. She always moves with a purpose. If she ran, there was a reason. A damn good one.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Someone was chasing her,” Wicks said. “That’s why animals run.”

  “Look around, dumbass. Do you see any other footprints?” Horton said to Wicks after pinching his eyes. “There’s only hers. That means she wasn’t being chased; she was in a hurry.”

  Krista didn’t buy it. “Hurry for what?”

  “A meeting of some kind would be my guess.”

  “Or the dinner bell,” Wicks added. “Could be anything. No telling with these things. They’re all balls and instinct, so to speak.”

  “Trust me, she was late for something,” Horton said with a firm confidence in his voice.

  “You’re reaching, Horton. Scabs don’t have meetings,” Krista said, shaking her head. “These things are not that organized.”

  “Like I said,” Wicks said. “All balls and instinct. Attack first and ask questions later.”

  Horton’s tone turned cynical. “Though she did manage to outsmart all of you and get away.”

  “Well, there was that,” Krista said, not wanting to admit the man was right.

  “There’s more to this girl than any of you realize. She’s not some crazed animal. She thinks. She plans. She’s smart.”

  “Enough debate. It’s time to see how right you are,” Krista said, shoving Horton forward. “But remember, if there’s an ambush waiting, you’ll be the first one into the meat grinder and none of us are going to lift a finger to stop it.”

  * * *

  Summer stood in front of the door to Morse’s quarters with stiff knees and a lump in her throat. Liz was there, too, looking somber and strong, holding her medical bag.

  Neither of them had said a word since they’d left the medical bay. The silent walk wasn’t planned, nor was it customary, but sometimes no words at all is the better response.

  Summer had often wondered why people felt compelled to say something during times like this. In truth, it rarely helps having to endure an earful of forced rhetoric or stale platitudes when your heart is breaking for another.

  True strength comes from within and not from meaningless words. Strength requires experience, meditation, and sheer will, none of which can happen when someone is flapping their gums simply for the sake of not being silent. It’s even worse when all you want to do is be left alone, so you can curl up in a ball and cry.

  Summer wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping she would make it through the next few minutes without breaking down. When she looked down at the wetness on her fingers, she realized that if she’d been wearing eyeliner like the normal girls before The Event, the black would have been smeared across her cheeks, making her look like an emotional racoon.

  Who knew one of the few benefits of life in the Frozen World would be a complete lack of makeup?

  “You ready?” Liz asked.

  Summer sent her a thin smile before sucking in a deep breath and letting it out in a slow, controlled manner.

  Liz continued, her tone gentle. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. He doesn’t want sympathy. Let’s keep it positive, for his sake.”

  Summer nodded, then looked down at her hands, both of them wobbling like an out of balance front tire. “Okay, I’ll try. I just can’t seem to stop my hands.”

  Liz put her medical bag on the floor, then wrapped her fingers around Summer’s. “It’ll be okay. We’ll do this together.”

  The warmth felt amazing, taking some of the nervousness away. “Thanks.”

  Liz let go, picked up her bag, and opened the door with a twist of the knob, allowing Summer to walk in first.

  A dark-haired family of three sat in chairs next to Morse’s bed—a mother and father, both slender and in their 40s, plus a teenage boy with curly black hair and a wide nose.

  Morse’s bunk was pushed up against the wall to the right in an understated room of plain cement. His desk and dresser stood together on the left, with a free-standing bookcase beyond them, each of its shelves stuffed with reading material and journals—each of them spiral bound and worn.

  Most of the books were thick hardbacks, but there were a few paperbacks mixed in. Three of them carried the title SILO, which Summer found interesting, given where they were at the moment.

  She wasn’t sure if the SILO books were fiction novels or textbooks, but their matching blue and white color schemes made it obvious they were a set. He’d kept them together on the middle shelf for a reason, she figured, since Morse never did anything without a plan.

  “How’s he doing?” Liz asked the mom upon arrival, putting two fingers on Morse’s wrist. She looked down at her watch, her lips moving in one-second increments.

  “Been asleep for hours, but he doesn’t seem to be in any more pain,” the woman answered. “That last dose really helped.”

  “It’s time to turn him again,” the father said, leaning forward and motioning to the boy to help. The kid followed his father’s lead and the two of them turned Morse from his back onto his side, facing the middle of the room.

  “Can we have a minute?” Liz asked the family, motioning with her eyes at the door.

  “Right, no problem,” the father said, standing up and corralling the other two in his hands before escorting them to the door.

  “God, I thought they’d never leave,” Summer said after the door closed behind them. She sat in one of the open seats, then picked up Morse’s hand and held it.

  There was a faint pulse across his cold skin, running at a pace much slower than Summer expected. She adjusted the blanket covering his body, pulling it up to cover his shoulders.

  “Go ahead. Talk to him,” Liz said, “while I take the rest of his vitals.”

  “Will he be able to hear me?”

  “Does it really matter? If you have something to say, say it. Might not be another chance.”

  “I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Just speak from your heart, dear. That’s all that matters. Just keep it positive, like we said.”

  Summer nodded, then leaned in to his ear. It took a few seconds for the words to line up. “Hey Alex, it’s me, Summer. Liz is with me, too. Just wanted to let you know that we are both here and everyone is taking really good care of you. Hope you get better soon. We have a lot of catching up to do. A lot happened at the monthly meet. There’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to start.”

  Liz motioned with her hand for Summer to continue.

  Summer continued after another breath. “We found this ugly dog named Sergeant Barkley. He tried to protect me from
Frost, but got hurt in the process. He’s down in medical right now, resting. Liz is taking good care of him, just like she is for you.”

  Liz continued checking more of the man’s vitals with instruments from her medical bag as Summer continued to fill Morse in on the happenings of the day. Since she wasn’t allowed to tell Morse anything that wasn’t positive, she decided not to mention Edison or what happened to him.

  When Liz was done with her tests, she wrote a few sentences on a notepad, then put it away in the medical bag.

  Summer leaned close to Liz, whispering in her ear. “How long does he have?”

  “Not long. His heart is very weak.”

  When those words landed on her ears, Summer took in a huge gulp of air all at once. Tears started to well again, only this time she found the strength to stop them from overflowing down her cheeks. She sniffed hard and turned her head away to collect herself, jamming her lips together and pushing her jaw out in defiance.

  When she brought her eyes back to Morse, she saw that his eyes were open and his lips were moving ever so slightly.

  Summer smacked Liz on the shoulder and pointed. “Look! He’s trying to say something.”

  Liz leaned in close to his mouth and turned her head, holding that pose for what seemed like an hour. When she sat back in the seat again, Morse’s eyes were closed and his lips were no longer moving.

  Liz brought her attention to Summer with eyes thin and forehead creased. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What did he say?”

  Liz paused for a beat. “Red radio thirty-five.”

  “What?”

  “He kept saying the same thing over and over. Red radio thirty-five.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. Probably just random gibberish,” Liz said.

  “But his eyes were open and he looked right at me. He knew I was there.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case, Summer. He’s heavily sedated. It’s more likely his mind and body are just reacting involuntarily.”

  Summer shot Liz a confused look. “And speaking real words?”

  “It does happen on occasion.”

  “No, that can’t be. He was trying to tell us something. Something important.”

  Liz shook her head but didn’t respond.

  Summer couldn’t let it go. “He has a radio in his lab. Maybe that’s what he meant?”

  “Is it red?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m afraid it’s just—” Liz said, stopping in mid-sentence when Morse suddenly turned over onto his back with his eyes open once again.

  Summer grabbed his hand. “Alex!”

  A second later, his entire body tensed in a straight line like a pencil, right before his chest took in one massive breath and held it for a three-count. Then, just as quickly as it came in, the air escaped from his lungs and so did the stiffness from his body. His arms and legs fell limp and so did his head, turning to the side with his mouth and eyes still open.

  Summer squeezed his hand, hoping for some kind of reaction. “Alex? Please, talk to me!”

  Liz listened to his heart with her stethoscope, then shook her head with tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Summer.”

  “No! God! No!” Summer said, putting his hand to her cheek. “Please, Alex, don’t go! Please! Not yet! I need you!”

  CHAPTER 16

  Krista came to a stop when the trail reached the pinnacle of the rise ahead. She held up a closed fist to her point men, then worked herself into a prone position with her rifle at the ready, its barrel just beyond the edge of the ridge. She brought the optics mounted on the top rail of her weapon into position in front of her eyes to survey the area and take a risk assessment. Her men slid in next to her and did the same.

  “See something?” Horton asked in a low tone, holding a few yards behind her, still under guard by Wicks and his always-at-the-ready assault rifle.

  Krista turned her head, using a whisper to respond. “An old school bus in the wash ahead. Half a click out.”

  “Seriously? Way out here?”

  “Been there a while by the looks of it. The girl’s tracks lead straight toward it.”

  “Do you see her?”

  Krista scanned the snow around the vehicle, but the low-powered scope wasn’t helping her identify any more detail. “Not yet, but there may be more tracks in the snow. Hard to know for sure, but there are shadows. Don’t see much else.”

  “She’s probably in the bus, staying warm,” Horton said.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me, though tactically, hunkering down at that location would be a mistake. The sight lines are a problem and there are too many elevated positions surrounding her. She’d be a sitting duck. If she’s there, it’s more likely an ambush. Trying to draw us in.”

  “Orders, ma’am?” one of the point men asked, also in a whisper.

  Krista pointed to the right. “You two are on overwatch. Work your way around that ridge and cover our advance. Shoot anything that moves.”

  “Other than the girl,” Horton said, his tone filled with urgency.

  “Unless she attacks, then put her down,” Krista added.

  “Roger that,” the man answered, getting to his feet in a crouched position, then scampering with his squad mate in the direction she’d ordered.

  Krista waved Horton and Wicks forward, sliding back a few yards before getting to her feet and meeting them halfway down the hill, their heads out of sight from the bus.

  The fourth member of the patrol team arrived, too, and Krista addressed him. “Remain here and cover our six. I’ll bring you forward when it’s clear.”

  “And if it’s an ambush, ma’am?” the guard asked.

  “Fall back and get word to camp. They’ll want to send reinforcements, but tell them I said not to risk it. They are to hold position and cover Nirvana.”

  The man stood without a response, looking confused.

  Krista continued. “Make sure they understand. Nobody is to follow us here. If something goes wrong, we can’t afford to lose anyone else. Is that clear? They are to protect the camp at all costs.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “All right, take your position.”

  “So it’s just us?” Horton asked, looking at Wicks and then at Krista.

  “Time to nut up or shut up. As soon as my men are in position, we’re going to see if you’re as good as you say. Otherwise, this is where we bury your ass, once and for all.

  Wicks grabbed Horton by the collar and yanked him back hard. “And the first bullet is from me.”

  “Stand down, Wicks. We’ll get to that soon enough,” Krista said.

  Horton flared his eyes wide. “You don’t think any of this will work, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. It’s a total Hail Mary, if you ask me. I doubt you could track down a drunken toddler in the snow, let alone someone with skills and a decent head start.”

  “Then why did you go along with it?”

  “Because it’s what Summer wanted. But you and I know what’s really happening here.”

  Horton threw up his hands. “I wish you would trust me. I’m a man of my word. I can do this.”

  “Look, asshole, you worked for Frost. Not exactly a ringing endorsement about someone we should trust.”

  “Not my best decision. I’ll give you that. But a guy’s got to stay alive. At the time, that meant joining Frost.”

  “And doing whatever unspeakable acts he ordered you to do along the way.”

  “It’s not like I had a lot of choices.”

  “We always have a choice, Horton. It’s those tough decisions that define us. One way or the other.”

  “I get that, but—”

  “For all we know, you’re some kind of plant, sent here to infiltrate our camp.”

  “Except Frost obviously wanted me dead when he left me out there for the Scabs. That should tell you all you need to know.”

  “Yes, it does. You are not
one to follow orders.”

  “Actually, just the opposite. I can follow orders. But with Frost, if you fail, you die.”

  “What was the failure?”

  “Tracking your boss,” Horton answered before a mumbling stutter hit his lips. “I mean, bringing her in. Tracking her wasn’t the issue.”

  “That girl made you all look like fools, didn’t she?” Krista said.

  “And she cost our team commander his life in the process. Like I said, with Frost, failure is not an option. Not after Summer gave us the slip more than once.”

  “If all that’s true, then why should we trust you with tracking the Scab Girl? Seems to me failure is your middle name.”

  “Because Helena is not your boss.”

  “But you said she’s smart.”

  “She is, but there are varying degrees of smart.”

  “Sounds like a complete spin job to me,” Wicks said, rolling his eyes at Krista. “It’s all about CYA with this guy. We should just burn him now, beat the rush later.”

  “Actually, it’s not about spin. It’s quite simple,” Horton said. “When Summer got away the second time, I became expendable, like everyone else under Frost’s command. That’s how the man rules. Through fear.”

  “Ruled—” Krista corrected.

  “Yes, ruled. Now that Fletcher’s in charge, there’s no telling how this is going to go.”

  Krista smirked. “I trust him a lot more than I trust you.”

  “That’ll change, if you just give me the chance. Let me prove it to you.”

  Krista pulled her knife again, aiming the tip at Horton. “So I’m curious—what makes you think I’m any different than Frost?”

  “Well, uh, not sure.”

  “I guess, then, we’ll see what happens. But don’t think for a second I won’t do it. If it were up to me, we would’ve left all of you on that road to freeze to death, so factor that into who and what you think I am.”

  Horton didn’t respond this time, clamping his lips together in silence.

  Krista put her knife away and looked at Wicks. “Overwatch should be in position. Let’s move out.”

 

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