by J. N. Chaney
“Easy, Kat,” he said. “I’m here to help you.”
“That man wants to kill me. I heard him.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s just afraid. Like we all are.”
Her eyes widened at that, and she asked, “You’re afraid, too?”
“All the time. It’s natural.”
Outside, the staff sergeant was still yelling at him. Rev tuned him out. He’d already disobeyed a direct order, so it really didn’t matter much. At least the team leader hadn’t come into the courtyard.
Kat tilted her head as if to hear the yelling, then she shook her head in a manner well beyond her years and said, “It’s OK. I knew I was going to die.” She gave a sniffle and wiped her nose again.
“No, you’re not. I won’t let it happen.”
She looked up at him for the first time with a tiny spark of hope, but it almost immediately faded.
“Mr. Mark said if I let go of this, it will explode. And if I take off my Benny Butterfly backpack, it will explode. He said the only way to live is to wait for one of you soldiers, and then I wouldn’t die.” She paused for a moment before adding, “But I know that’s a lie. It will explode when I let go, then I’ll die even with you here.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Rev said, more to himself than to her.
He put his M-49 down, leaning it up against the wall. “I’m going to come closer, OK, Kat?”
She tensed again but didn’t object.
“I’ve got a friend here,” he said, pointing at his head. “His name is Punch. He might be able to help.”
Her eyebrows scrunched together in puzzlement. “An imaginary friend? My momma says those are silly. They aren’t real.”
“Glad you have something to say.”
“Oh, he’s real enough, Kat. And he wants to look at you. Are you OK with that?”
She paused for a long moment as she considered the request. Her hand holding the detonator shifted for a brief moment, and Rev’s throat almost closed down.
“OK,” she said. “If you think so.”
Rev slowly walked forward until he was right in front of her. He knelt, focused on the detonator. He gently took her hand and turned it over, then followed the hardwire down her arm, under a cloth band, and to the backpack. He asked Kat to lean forward, then tried to get a good look at the entire thing. When he was done, he stood back.
“What do you see?”
“Should I open the backpack?”
“Well, we’re not doing that.”
“Are you going to help me, sir?” Kat asked.
“I’m Rev, not sir, Kat. And I’m trying to figure it out.”
“You heard her. What about taking off the backpack. It’s not attached to her.”
That was exactly what he was going to suggest.
“Hey, Kat. Did Mr. Mark inject you with anything when he put this on you?”
“No, sir.” Rev felt a surge of hope before she shut that down with, “He made me swallow a pill.”
Kat was sitting on the ground, looking up at him with sad eyes, eyes that said she knew there was no hope. But Rev wasn’t about to give up.
“I can’t take the detonator. I can’t remove the backpack. I don’t even know how far I can move it before it explodes unless we open the backpack, and we can’t do that because that could trigger the damned thing.”
“So, what do I do?”
His battle buddy remained silent. This wasn’t what it was programmed for. If there was a way out of this, it was on him.
“Can you stand for me, Kat?”
“Is that OK? I mean, Mr. Mark told me to sit here.”
“We’ve already figured out that Mr. Mark is a liar, right? And I’m right here.”
She didn’t look too sure of herself, but she slowly stood, almost stumbling before Rev caught her. Both of them looked at her death-grip of the detonator. Her thumb had slipped to the very edge of the red button. Rev carefully reached out and pressed down over her thumb, going over his battle kit, trying to remember if he had any tape—just simple, ordinary tape.
Of course not. Why would it be that easy?
“OK, I’m going to slide your thumb over to the center. Can you help with that?”
She nodded, and Rev slid her thumb, always keeping pressure. He got it to the middle and slowly let go before letting out a big breath of relief.
“I peed myself,” Kat said in a miserable voice, using her free hand to brush ineffectually at her shorts.
“Don’t worry, honey. I do it, too, inside my armor.”
Not quite the same, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Rev took a hard look at the backpack. It was loose. He could probably slide it right off and drop it to the floor, but to what end? Unless . . .
His mind went into overdrive, pushed by necessity. Synapses snapped with ferocity, and it was almost as if he were outside his body, watching his mind churn.
Another augment they didn’t tell me about?
It didn’t matter. Suddenly, he knew what to do. It was probably foolish, and it would probably get them both killed, but . . .
He took a step forward and looked out the window. Tomiko, Nix, and the staff sergeant were in a deep discussion at the gate, Delacrie gesturing wildly. The rest of the team was in a hasty defense along the street, weapons pointing outward, but with continued glances back to see what was happening.
“Hey! All three of you. I’d suggest you either back off or at least duck down behind that wall.”
“Corporal Pelletier! I’m ordering you to leave that girl there and get your ass out of there!” the staff sergeant said, his face red with anger.
“Listen to him, Rev,” Tomiko said, anguish taking over her features.
“No can do. But I would duck down if I were you.”
“What the hell are you going to do?” the staff sergeant asked.
“I’m going to save a little girl; that’s what I’m going to do.”
He looked down at Kat, who showed a brave face as she tried to smile.
“I’m ordering you to—”
“You already said that,” Rev said, cutting him off.
He didn’t resent the team leader. He’d do the same thing if it were Yazzie or Tomiko instead of him. But the gods of war determined it would be him in this particular place, this particular time, and this particular situation.
“Now, Kat. This is what we are going to do. First, you hand me the detonator,” he said, placing his hand over the top.
“But—”
“I’ve got it. Slowly slide your hand away.”
She started to cry again, the tears rolling down her cheeks, but she complied. She gave a small squeak as her arm fell free, her hand crabbed into a claw after holding it for so long.
Kat started to step back, and Rev had to grab her shoulder with his other arm to keep her close.
“You need to stay with me. Don’t move away. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. I want you to loosen your backpack, OK? You’re going to let it drop a little bit.”
“But Mr. Mark said that if I take it—”
Rev put two of his gauntleted fingers lightly over her lips. “You have to trust m
e. Can you do that?”
She nodded her head solemnly, her eyes open wide. For a moment, Rev felt like he was falling into them, the specks of blue and green reminding him of the nebula cloud rushing toward the planet.
Snap back, Reverent!
“I’m going to help you.” He put his hand on the top of the backpack as she lowered her arms, letting it slide down until it was hanging just below her butt, the straps on her elbows. Rev took a long look. There wasn’t enough room.
“Hold still now.”
I shouldn’t have taken the detonator yet.
But he couldn’t give it back. Her hand, finally freed, wouldn’t be able to hold it again. He could tell her to drop it, but that could set it off if the transmitter was in her stomach.
Still holding the detonator with his left hand, he tried to unhook the right backpack strap, but as good as the PAL gauntlets were, he struggled. With a muttered “Fuck,” he snapped the thing.
“You shouldn’t curse,” Kat said quietly.
“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t. Sorry.”
“Now, I’m going to pick you up, OK? But don’t move. Stay as still as you can.”
“Yes, sir. Please be careful.”
“I will.”
The narrowest part of a Marine in a PAL-5 was at the waist. He looked at his, then at the gap between the girl and the backpack. For a moment, he considered shucking his combat suit, but he was counting on the armor to keep not just him but the girl safe. Safer. If his battle buddy was right, there was enough explosive in there to blow them both to smithereens without the protection of his armor. He didn’t know if even that would protect him.
He squatted and slid his left arm under Kat’s and around her chest. “Hold on tight to my arm.”
Slowly, he stood, hugging her into his front. For a moment, he realized that he’d just exposed the girl to the staff sergeant, who was still watching with the other two. He didn’t think Delacrie would shoot her, but he turned around anyway, presenting his back to them.
“I’m going to try and scoot between you and the backpack. I need you to stay very, very still. Can you do that?”
“I . . . I think so,” she said in a very small voice.
This is it.
He knew this was a wild-ass plan, something someone who didn’t know better would come up with. If he was wrong, he was about to kill Kat for sure, and probably himself too.
What was that saying? He who will not risk, cannot win? Well, this is a helluva risk.
Rev started working his hips between Kat and the backpack, and with each centimeter, he expected the pack to explode. Kat cried out in pain a few times, but she didn’t move a muscle. Farther and farther, he got more and more of himself in. His heart was about to burst from his chest.
“No!” he shouted, making Kat cry out.
“Not you, honey. Not you.”
“Pelletier. We’ve got another plan,” the staff sergeant shouted, but Rev was too far along. Just another couple of centimeters.
But just as he almost had her in front of him, she snagged on his battle harness. He looked down, and it was the wire running from her waist to the backpack. He couldn’t risk breaking it, and he couldn’t risk pulling it free from the pack.
Rev could retreat, then start again, but he didn’t dare trust that. Already, most of Kat was shielded by his body.
“By the Mother, give me strength.”
He lifted her slightly and then backed down, holding Kat out farther from him until the wire fell free.
“Thank you, Mother,” he said, and he hugged Kat tight again.
He slipped his right arm through the right strap, and after three or more wiggles, he was between Kat and the backpack. It hung loosely from his right arm.
“Are we OK?”
“Almost there, Kat. Just be brave.”
This was going to be the tricky part. Rev lowered both of them to the ground until Kat was standing on shaky legs. “I want you to make yourself as small as you can. Hold your hands in front of you and then don’t move.”
She nodded her head and hunched over. As small as she was, Rev thought that if the backpack exploded now, she might be protected by his bulk.
“Lean into me with your back.”
He bent over her, his chest on her head. As she pressed into him, he cautiously released his hold with his left hand and passed the pink backpack with his right along his shoulders, bending his left up and around to slide his left arm through the remaining strap, all the time making sure that the wire attached to Kat didn’t go taut.
It took an excruciatingly long time, and every moment he expected it to detonate. The staff sergeant, Nix, and Tomiko were yelling at him, but he tuned them out. All that mattered in the universe was a pink and yellow backpack covered with butterflies.
Kat started crying louder, gasping for breath between sobs. “Mommy, mommy,” she said, over and over.
The contortion worked. The backpack slid over his left arm, free of his right. With his own sob, Rev knelt again and put his right around Kat. He tried to keep the backpack from swinging free, exposing the girl, but he was able to stand.
He couldn’t believe his cockamamie plan had worked so far. They were both still alive. But now, it was crunch time.
“Kat,” he said in the calmest voice he could muster. I need you to hold tight in my arms. And when I tell you, bring your knees up. There’s going to be a big boom.”
“No!” she shrieked, kicking out.
“It’s OK. You’ll be OK. But I want you to look for my friends. They’ll come in to help you. Promise me that.”
“I don’t want to die!” she wailed.
“You won’t. Not if you do what I say.”
By the Mother, I hope I’m not lying to her.
“Promise?”
“Promise, honey.”
She was shaking in his arm, but she quit kicking.
He turned his head slightly and yelled over his shoulder, “I’m serious. Either get the hell back or down behind the wall. Now!”
Rev backed up until his right side was behind the wall, his left just at the window opening. He whispered to Kat, “I’m so glad I met you. Now bring up your legs.”
He felt her comply as a sense of calm flowed over and through him.
“More nano play?”
For once, Rev didn’t mind being manipulated.
With a sense of finality, Rev swung his left arm backward, with the detonator in his hand and the backpack hanging from his elbow out the opening and down under the sill.
Nothing happened.
Shit. I guess we’re still within range.
Not that it changed anything. It was still there. Maybe it was only a few more centimeters, and it would blow. He turned his head over his left shoulder to look at it again. An iridescent butterfly reflected light at him.
He steeled his nerves once more.
“You with me, battle buddy?”
“OK, now, that’s funny.”
With the smile still on his lips, Rev released the detonator.
22
“Rev, Rev, can you hear me?” a muffled voice tried to break through the fog. There was something familiar about it, something . . .
With an intense effort, Rev opened his eyes. The figure leaning over him coalesced into Tomiko, her helmet off, her face twisted in concern.
“I’m all right,” he mumbled, trying to push himself up off the floor. Only it didn’t work. He couldn’t push up.
“He’s coming to,” Tomiko yelled, but her voice sounded a thousand klicks away.
“Nanos? What happened?” He wasn’t sure if he subvocalized the question or said it aloud.
“You’re going to be OK, Rev. Just hold on.”
Somewhere deep within his muddled mind rose the fact that antifibrinolytics treated bleeding. He realized that he was hurt, which seemed right. He couldn’t really have expected to survive the blast when—
“Where’s Kat” he shouted, trying to sit up.
Tomiko pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him down. “Kat? The girl? Tulip has her. She’s fine.”
Rev continued to try and get up, but it was no use. Sergeant Nix was on his left side, blocking his view. He turned to the right, and there, just beyond Tomiko, was Badem, holding Kat to his chest. She was covered in dust, her blonde hair a musty gray, and she was sobbing, her hands wrapped in a death grip around his neck.
He relaxed, relieved, and then looked back up into Tomiko’s face. “I’m good. Just let me catch my breath.”
“Am I good? What’s wrong with me?” he asked Punch.
“What?” he said aloud. “That doesn’t make any sense. I can feel it.”
Rev turned his head to the left. Sergeant Nix was right there, holding his . . .
“Shit,” was all he could say as his vision constricted and his stomach threatened to empty. Nix was not leaning on his arm, holding him down. He was putting pressure on a stump that ended a few centimeters below his shoulder.
“Hang in there, buddy. Doc Paul’s on his way. He’s going to take care of you.”
“What happened?” he subvocalized, afraid that if he spoke aloud, he’d pass out.
“Am I going to live?”
“And my arm? Can they, you know, put it back?”
Rev didn’t want to move his head, but he had to know. He craned his neck to look behind him, to where half of what had been the front wall of the home was gone.