by Kyle West
Raine raised them to his eyes without bothering to take off his shades. He squinted as he adjusted the lenses, and the field of view homed in on the crash. It was starting to belch black smoke into the red sky. There was no visible fire, but it could have just been hidden by the thick smoke.
“Who the hell can even fly a helicopter these days?” Raine mused. “Someone with fuel, someone with a pilot who’s stayed alive these last eighteen years . . .”
“Reapers?” Dan ventured.
Raine scoffed, then spat. “I’ve never been one to underestimate our enemies, but even they couldn’t pull this off. This is from one of those government Bunkers, maybe. I hear 112 and 108 aren’t far off.”
“I thought they all went kaput,” Dan said. “Raiders made sure of that.”
Maybe so, Raine thought. Now, he was trying to judge whether the copter was too dangerous to scrap. It was mighty tempting to send some men to strip it before the fuel caused it to light up. It had a military look, too, and though he couldn’t see it clearly anymore because of the smoke, there had to be some pretty heavy caliber armament on board.
The Reapers weren’t here yet, either. Better to do it quickly, before things got too dangerous. Raine needed more men, first, to make sure the job was done cleanly and efficiently.
Raine’s thoughts were interrupted when his eyes caught movement in the binocs.
Someone was crawling away from the flames, which were now visible.
“I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Dan said.
Raine looked again. Even with distance, he could tell the person wasn’t an adult, but a girl. She had long black hair, but he couldn’t see much else.
The realization that a child was in danger kicked Raine’s protective instincts into overdrive. The face of his dead daughter, Adrienne, seemed to stare out at him from the smoke. His heart started beating faster.
“Hold your post here, Dan .”
Before Dan could respond, Raine dashed forward, ignoring the captain’s shouts of warning.
RAINE WAS BULKY FOR a man of his height, but that didn’t mean he was slow. That had surprised his enemies many times, much to their demise. The heat of the fire was unreal as he closed in. Raine shielded his eyes and face, even as he began to hack at the fire’s fumes.
He could see the girl just ahead, lying on the ground. She was dirty and blackened from the smoke and no longer moving. She was a small thing, and Raine’s heart clutched with fear. He might be too late.
Don’t think of that, Raine thought. Get her out. She might live yet.
As if in confirmation of that hope, the girl lifted her tiny head, her black hair a mess and filled with cinders. Her smooth, olive face was smudged with dirt, while her light brown eyes were intense and arresting. No, she hadn’t given up yet, and neither would Raine. This one was a fighter.
She crawled forward using only one of her arms. The other dragged uselessly behind.
The fire was visible within the helicopter chassis, and the fumes grew thicker. Raine pushed himself against the heat, feeling it crackle against his skin. If it was this bad for him, then the little girl must be roasting alive – very slowly, and very painfully.
At last, he made it, scooping her up in his powerful arms. She weighed almost nothing.
“Got you.”
He ran. The heat licked at his back, and a sudden burst pushed him forward, sending him stumbling to the ground. Then there was a deafening roar, like an ancient beast from myth coming to life. The heat was incredible and gone almost as soon as it had arrived. Raine held his body protectively over the girl. Her eyes gazed at him in an effort to remain open, while her skin was splotched red with blisters. The poor thing was delirious.
“Daddy . . .” she said. “Are we there yet?”
I ain’t your dad, Raine thought. He’s dead, unless he somehow got out like you.
Looking back at the exploded wreckage, he didn’t think that too likely. He’d have his men investigate once it was safe enough, and scrap whatever material was left behind, though Raine didn’t suspect it would be much. He’d also try to get a body count, if such a thing was possible.
He looked down at the little girl’s face. She couldn’t be more than seven or eight. Though this one looked nothing like his dead Adrienne, it still seemed as if her eyes were staring back at him. Accusing him.
Raine shook the thought. With the girl in his arms, he walked toward his former position. Dan was running toward him, along with a few more Lost Angel foot soldiers, all armed with rifles.
“It’ll be all right,” he said to the girl. “Hold on tight. We’ll get you somewhere safe.”
The girl opened her eyes again, and despite her young age, there was nothing tender in that expression. She was fully lucid. Behind those eyes, which seemed hazel now in the absence of the smoke, Raine saw death. Despite the heat of the flames still present behind him, Raine felt a chill.
The girl closed her eyes and seemed to sleep. Raine chanced a look back to see the helicopter fully ablaze now, burning through the last of its fuel. That the girl had survived was nothing short of a miracle. There might be scarring from her blisters, but she would live.
“You have no one to protect you, huh?” Raine asked, now stopping to wait for his men. “That’s all right. You got me, now.”
The girl seemed to sleep more deeply, her breathing becoming even. She had to be exhausted.
Raine waited, exhausted himself from his adrenaline-fueled sprint. His strength was of a different sort, more useful for bashing a man’s face in or cracking a neck. He’d done that a few times before. And now, those same hands that had brought death to so many cradled a little girl who was completely at his mercy.
But Raine swore to keep her safe with all the strength he had. Memories of Adrienne, unbeckoned, mingled in with this sentiment.
She coughed, and her tinny, cracked voice came out at a rasp. “Water.”
Raine reached for his canteen. He watched in amazement as the girl downed the whole thing without pause.
He looked up as Dan walked up with the patrol. One of the two men with him had a first aid kit. All watched the little girl with widened eyes, as if they, too, couldn’t believe she was alive.
He handed the girl over to the man with the first aid kit. He watched as he set to work, dressing her wounds as her eyes closed again.
Dan gazed out at the downed copter with disbelief in his eyes. The fires were low now and reflected in Dan’s blue orbs. It had been twelve years since he’d met the captain. A former Marine, he and Dan had worked together for most of the past twelve years – first as cronies for the Black Reapers, and when that got bad, they struck out on their own and formed the Lost Angels. The pairing was unlikely – even eighteen years after Dark Day, Dan was still as straight-laced as they came, more of an administrator and logistician than fighter, while Raine had run the streets and carved out a small, but defendable, territory in what used to be south L.A.
The two men had one thing in common, however: they were both hard as nails, as were all men who had managed to survive this long after Ragnarok’s fall.
“You can’t just do that, Raine,” Dan said quietly. “You’ll get yourself killed one of these days.”
The girl opened her eyes again, much to Raine’s surprise. Those hazel eyes were haunted, but even so, she gave a small, innocent smile, the kind only children are capable of.
“What’s your name?” Raine asked.
The hardness in the girl’s voice belonged to someone twenty years older at least.
“Makara,” she said, her voice high, yet firm.
As the girl closed her eyes again to sleep, it was as if her life were laid out in prophecy. Raine had done well in saving her. A girl like this, if raised well, had great potential.
“Makara,” he said. “Welcome to the Lost Angels.”
Chapter 10
MAKARA WAS SENT TO the infirmary and slowly, but surely, recovered from her burns.
Her arm was set and put in a sling, and she ate enough for a grown man.
Raine popped into the infirmary one day, about a week after the crash, to check on her.
“Morning, Darlene,” he said.
The sixty-year-old Darlene, a redheaded nurse and the closest thing the Angels had to a doctor, looked up at Raine’s entrance. She was leaning over a patient’s bed, replacing an IV. “Morning, Raine.”
“How’s little Makara doing today?”
Darlene turned to look at him. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“No ma’am,” Raine said. Darlene had told Raine that Makara would be cleared for checkout today. “Want to make sure she’s set up with Isabel right away.”
“That’s good of you,” Darlene said approvingly. “Well, she’s awake. Waiting in the next room. I should warn you, though.”
“What?” Raine asked.
Darlene’s brown eyes became sad. “She’s been through hell and a half, Raine. I haven’t been able to get much out of her. You can see pain in her eyes, though.” Her voice quavered. “Just breaks my heart.”
“She’s said nothing?”
Darlene finished up with her patient, an old man named Jonas Stevens, who was in the last stages of his life and too weak to greet Raine. Darlene closed the door.
“You might want to sit down.”
Raine swallowed, pulled up a chair, and sat. Darlene sat on the far side. Raine might have overseen the Lost Angels, but here in the infirmary, Darlene was queen.
“Haven’t been able to get much out of her,” she admitted. “Poor girl doesn’t want to talk about what happened.”
“I don’t blame her,” Raine said, leaning over the desk, and thinking. “She’s probably in shock still. It’s only been a week, after all.”
Darlene looked at Raine intently. “She is in shock, Raine. Even if she heals physically, she’ll be scarred the rest of her life. Doesn’t have parents, as far as I can tell. She keeps asking about a Sam, but I keep telling her there’s no one by that name here.”
“Might check with the new arrivals,” Raine mused. “Family member, maybe.”
Darlene looked at him imploringly. “You saved her, Raine. Maybe she’ll open up to you. I know you’re a busy man . . .”
“I’ll talk to her,” he said. The decision wasn’t hard. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
“Good,” Darlene said. “I know you said you were here to take her to Isabel personally, but I think she should stay here another week at least. She needs rest, Raine, and time to process things. And she needs to see Kevin.”
Kevin Klein was the resident therapist for the Lost Angels. He was the only person at the base with psychiatric training, but in the absence of most drugs, he had to rely mostly on talk therapy. The poor man was probably in need of therapy himself. Everyone in Lost Angels Command had some sort of trauma, Raine included.
“I’ll make sure he sees her,” Raine said. “I’m ready when you are.”
Darlene nodded. “I’ll stand back and listen. I should take notes for Kevin.”
Raine nodded, to show his agreement. He felt a nervous weight form in his stomach. It really should have been Kevin asking these questions, but Darlene had a point. If the girl wouldn’t talk to her, then she probably wasn’t ready to talk to the doctor, either.
Darlene opened the door, revealing the girl in a floral dress, sitting on the bed and staring out the window. She was scratched and bruised, though clean, with her arm set in a cast hanging from a sling. She didn’t seem to notice the sound of the door opening at first. When Raine cleared his throat, she turned. Her hazel eyes were intense and focused, and didn’t seem to belong to a child.
“Makara, Raine is here,” Darlene said. “Is it okay if he visits a bit?”
Makara lowered her eyes. After a long moment, she gave the barest of nods.
“Just him,” she whispered.
“What’s that, honey?”
“Just him,” she said, her tone taking on an edge while her eyes narrowed.
“Okay, sweetie,” Darlene said, kindly. Darlene cast Raine a look, a look that seemed to admonish him to remember everything Makara said. She closed the door softly behind her.
“Morning, Makara,” Raine said, after the silence had stretched uncomfortably long. “Feeling better?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
Raine swallowed. “That’s good.” He licked his lips. “Listen. Darlene is a little worried about you. You want to talk about it?”
Makara tensed. “No.”
“I just want to help you, Makara.”
She whispered something, so lightly, that Raine didn’t catch it.
Raine looked down at his hands, feeling useless. “Can I sit down, at least?”
Makara nodded, and Raine took up the chair next to her bed. Raine wasn’t sure what to say, and it felt as if Makara wasn’t going to volunteer anything.
“I used to be married to the most beautiful woman in the world,” Raine said. “Her name was Valerie.” Raine paused, steeling himself to continue. He didn’t much like to talk about this. “I had a daughter, too.” He looked at Makara, who was staring out the window at the courtyard. “Her name was Adrienne. She was the light of my eyes and the music of my heart.”
Makara looked at him, seeming to be slightly interested. “They died?”
Raine nodded. “They were killed, in cold blood.” Raine shook his head, drawing from his memories, as painful as they were. “That hurt me bad. Still hurts to this day.”
“Who killed them?”
“A bad man. His name’s Carin Black. He’s the leader of the Black Reaper gang. They’re the Angels’ sworn enemies.”
“Because he killed your wife and kid.”
It hurt, to hear it put so bluntly like that, in the way only a child could.
“That and more, Makara. Point is, I know how it feels to lose somebody you love. I loved my wife, Valerie, and my daughter, Adrienne . . .” His voice thickened, and his eyes became watery. “Loved them with everything I had. There’s a hole in my heart the size of . . . the size of them both put together, I guess. But now they’re gone, taken from me forever.” Raine shook his head, talking as much to himself as the girl. “It’s been years, but the pain’s still there. It’s become a different type of pain, I guess. But it’s pain all the same.”
Raine didn’t even know what he was doing, or why he was telling this little girl about his dead wife and daughter. If Darlene were in here, she would probably smack him upside the head, talking about death to a grieving child. It felt right, though, for whatever reason.
When Raine looked up, he was surprised to see Makara had tears in her eyes. She surprised him even more when her tiny hand reached for his and was engulfed by it.
“My daddy died,” she whispered.
Raine nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Even quieter: “Mommy died, too.”
Was there something there? Did Raine dare to ask?
Then, in the most miserable voice he’d ever heard, she said, “It’s all my fault.”
She hid her face and started sobbing. Raine squeezed her hand, and felt tears coming to his own eyes.
“I’m sure it’s not your fault, Makara.”
Makara screamed. “It’s my fault! My fault! I dropped Panda! I dropped him, and Panda is gone too. All because of me . . .”
She was wailing now. Darlene opened the door with a shocked expression. Raine motioned for her to shut it, which she promptly did.
“It’s okay, Makara,” Raine said. “You don’t have to talk about it.” Then, after a moment. “Who’s Panda?”
“My bear,” she said, with a sniffle.
Raine figured it must have been a stuffed toy. Makara spoke again after a moment.
“The monsters killed them,” Makara said. “They killed everybody. Everybody but me and Sam.”
“Who’s Sam, Makara?”
“My brother,” she blubbered. “He’s gone, too.”
“In the crash, you mean.”
Makara nodded, seeming to calm, if only a little bit. Her face became strangely serene as she drew a few deep breaths. She wiped her face. Her pain was bottled up, at least for now. Raine almost did a double take at the change. It was as if she had no emotion at all.
“Mommy always told me that when I’m scared, to just breathe,” Makara said. “Breathe. It will all get better. That’s what she told me.”
Raine nodded, seeming to think it good advice.
“It doesn’t work, though,” Makara finished. “It hasn’t gotten better.” She looked at Raine. “When will it get better?”
Raine was at a loss for what to say. He didn’t have an answer for that. He supposed no one on Earth did.
She looked back out the window. “I’m done talking now.”
WHEN RAINE LEFT THE room, he and Darlene looked at each other for a moment before the nurse broke the silence.
“She can stay here as long as she needs,” Darlene said. “Get Dr. Klein here ASAP.”
Raine nodded. “Learned a few things. Her parents are dead. You’re right that she has someone close to her named Sam. Might have survived the crash, but that doesn’t look likely. She had a little toy bear named Panda.”
Darlene nodded. “That’s good. Anything else?”
Now, for the strangest part. “She mentioned something about monsters. How they got everyone.”
Darlene frowned. “Monsters. Raiders, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Raine said, though he was doubtful. “She said they killed everybody. Something in the way she said it makes me think she doesn’t mean just her parents, but everyone she was with. I didn’t ask about those other people, though. She was distraught.”
“That’s weird,” Darlene said. “Poor girl is rattled. I’d give her something to calm her down, but we don’t have much.”
“It’s all right,” Raine said. “I don’t think it’s good for her to stay in here alone, Darlene. She needs human interaction. I’ll get Klein here this morning. After she sees Klein, I want her in the nursery. Maybe she can help take care of the little ones. Giving her a job might take her mind off things.”