She stepped forward again. “I know you think you have good reason to hate me, but I only have the best interests of Haven at heart. I don’t want bloodshed any more than you. Only you can stop it now.”
David turned his head away, hiding his expression. He turned back. “Do I have your word none of my people have died?”
Carla looked him straight in the eye. “To my knowledge,” she said, “no one has died.”
David returned her gaze, not trusting her. But he had few choices. “I need to consult with the others.”
Carla nodded, suppressing the surge of pleasure welling up from within. “You have one hour.”
David acknowledged her offer then turned and walked back to the barricade. He almost made it before a shot rang out, followed by another.
Carla spun around, eyes blazing. “Who did that? Who did that!”
Her eyes found Heinrich Schick standing off to one side, a thin skein of smoke trailing from the barrel of his rifle.
He quailed under the force of Carla’s glare. “I-I … it was too good an opportunity to miss. It’s over now, don’t you see? They have no leader.”
Carla ground out her words, laced with venom. “You fool. You stupid, stupid fool. Now you’ve ruined everything.”
She strode toward Heinrich.
He backed away. “I did it for you! For all of us! Don’t you see? I did it for us!”
Carla’s arm came up as she continued to walk. She was only meters away when she pulled the trigger, splashing Heinrich’s brains over the tree that halted his quivering retreat.
“Bastard!” She emptied her pistol into his lifeless form, her neck corded, the whites of her eyes showing. “Bastard, bastard, bastard!” She threw the empty pistol at his shattered face and looked around as if looking for something else to throw.
The others stood frozen like statues. Even Franz hesitated. Carla’s chest heaved as she fought for control.
“Heinrich hated him, ever since the night he left him tied up,” Franz said.
Carla fixed her gaze on him, as if clutching for a lifeline back to sanity.
“He’s had his revenge and paid for it.” Franz shrugged. “It’s not over yet. We’ve still won.”
Carla’s nostrils flared. She glanced back at the lifeless form of Heinrich, then back at Franz, and nodded.
She turned toward the barricade and cupped her hands around her mouth. “I’ve changed my mind! Five minutes! You have five minutes!”
The pain hit, and David gritted his teeth to avoid crying out. He knew what getting shot felt like, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less.
He looked up to see Veronika, her mouth a round ‘O’. Only seconds must have passed since they’d cut his legs out from under him. He tried to move, but though his spirit willed it, his body couldn’t respond. He knew he must move before shock set in. David’s brow wrinkled as he focused and forced the instructions from his brain. Left knee forward, right arm forward, pull!
Somehow he rolled himself into cover. He dragged himself as far as he could behind the large rocks of their barricade before collapsing with exhaustion.
The tearing sound of fabric seemed far away as Veronika sliced the legs of his pants away. She worked over him with quick, urgent movements, medical bag at the ready.
“Bozhe moi! What are you thinking? Do you want to die?”
David tried to move his legs and wished he hadn’t.
“Lie still!”
“Can’t,” David said between gritted teeth. “There’s no time. They’ll close in now. If we don’t act now, they’ll be on us.”
“You won’t be doing any acting with legs full of holes!”
David locked eyes with Veronika. “Let’s argue about it later. For now, patch the holes, and make it quick. I need to be mobile.”
Veronika looked at him a moment, then shook her head, muttering under her breath as she reached for a hypodermic. “This will deaden the pain,” she said jabbing the needle into his right thigh just below the wound. “It won’t stop you using the leg,” she said, seeing David’s expression. “But it will dull the pain.”
David nodded.
“Eventually.”
David winced as she repeated the injections for the other wound then applied a gray paste to each one. “This will stabilize the wound until I can treat you at the hospital.”
Next she applied bandages and wrapped his lower left leg with a field splint, pulling the tab on the end of the splint to stiffen it. “This will hold your leg in place.” She nodded at his expression. “Because in case you didn’t notice, it’s broken.”
The symphony of pain from his legs convinced him. “OK. I can walk?”
Veronika snorted. “You can try. I would not recommend standing up if you value your head, though.”
David nodded, then experimented with moving his legs.
“Give it a few minutes,” Veronika said, watching him. “The wound heal needs a little time, as do the painkillers.”
David’s eyes found a large carryall laying on the ground behind them. It contained a grenade launcher with three grenades, their sole heavy weapon.
Their last resort.
“Pass me that bag.”
Veronika took a look and grimaced. “No.”
David’s eyes widened. “That wasn’t a question.”
“I know. And I won’t give it to you. I know what is in there.” Veronika’s gaze held his own. “You don’t have a chance. They will never let you get into position to shoot that thing and they won’t miss. Not this time.”
David pitched his voice low. “There’s no time, no choice. I have to have it.”
Veronika shook her head, but David’s voice rang out. “Now, Veronika!”
Her arm jerked toward the bag almost of its own accord and she clamped one hand on to the grip. “David …”
David’s eyes fixed on hers. “Now.”
Veronika dragged the bag toward her and turned to David, eyes brimming with tears. This would be the end of him. The grenade could take out their attackers, but with Carla’s team’s never-miss weapons, David would almost certainly be shot and killed in the attempt.
She slid the bag along the ground. David twisted to accept it then unzipped the bag and withdrew the launcher and a grenade. He looked up at Veronika and smiled.
“You’re assuming I’m suicidal, aren’t you?”
Veronika’s face said it all.
David snicked the grenade into the mouth of the launcher.
“Not yet,” he said, rolling onto his back with a grunt, cradling the grenade launcher in his arms.
“What are you doing?” Veronika asked, uncertain now.
“Playing the home advantage,” he replied. He shot a glance at her over his shoulder. “You were Russian. You should know better than most what happens when an invader underestimates the terrain.”
David tilted the barrel of the grenade launcher upward, taking time to aim.
Veronika understood. “Oh, bozhe moi,” she said, looking away and covering her ears.
With a roar the grenade disappeared from the nozzle of the launcher, trailing smoke as it rocketed toward the roof of the cavern. The ceiling erupted in flame, the loud explosion rocking them a split second later.
Shouts came from Carla’s camp in the trees across the clearing as the smoke billowed. At first Veronika thought nothing had happened, but then rocks rained from the ceiling, faster and faster. A huge section gave way and plummeted down.
The ground beneath them jolted and heaved when it hit the ground, a huge cloud of dust erupting from the impact site. Veronika’s chest shuddered and tears formed in her eyes. Quiet fell.
Veronika stared open-mouthed at the gaping hole in the ceiling until she realized someone was tugging at her arm, and her attention snapped back. David knelt there, mask over his face, gesturing for her to do the same. She fumbled at her belt as she realized nothing now separated them from the native atmosphere. Soon, they would have trouble breathin
g without masks.
David led a small band of unwounded defenders to search for survivors. He hobbled on his wounded legs with the support of a rough crutch fashioned from the branch of a tree.
They found precious few. Most of Carla’s team lay crushed beneath tons of rock, a few recognizable bodies here and there. The survivors were those who’d been quick to understand and quick to run, but no one had escaped unscathed. All surrendered so they could obtain the medical attention they needed.
David hobbled his way through the rubble, his makeshift crutch providing support. Soon, he knew, Veronika would come for him and insist he go to the hospital for treatment. He would go, but first he had one more job to do.
She had run, but not fast enough. He found Carla trapped, the lower half of her body crushed beneath the rock fall, her upper body twisted.
At first he thought she was dead, but then her eyes flickered open.
“So. Here you are,” David said. He hunkered down beside her, injured legs complaining.
“Here I am.” She closed her eyes and coughed, blood and spittle dribbling from the corner of her mouth. When she opened her eyes again her lips quirked in what might have been an attempt to smile. “You … win,” she said, drawing breath with difficulty.
David nodded, his blue eyes piercing. He glanced up. Cries and shouted commands echoed in the distance as the able-bodied hunted for survivors before the poisonous outside atmosphere could intrude.
“Go on. You know you want to.” Carla’s gray eyes fixed on his.
David’s hands twitched, but he didn’t move.
“You … and me. We are alike,” she said. “We would have been good. I know it.”
David shook his head. “We’re not alike at all. We’ve both killed, I admit it. But I do it because I’m a soldier. I do it when necessary, but I’ve never enjoyed it, never wanted to. That’s where we differ.” He cupped the back of her head in one hand, as a lover might.
“But that won’t stop you now.”
David placed his other palm on her cheek. Carla closed her eyes, letting her face fall into his hand. David gave her a moment then slid his hand down to her chin and gripped it.
Carla’s eyes opened. “Even soldiers have ethics.”
“I never claimed to be perfect.”
David had to strain to hear. “I could have loved you.”
The sound of her neck breaking punctuated her final words.
David stood and wiped his hands on his pants as though he’d touched something unclean. He turned and limped back toward the bridge, toward home.
He didn’t look back.
12
David found Silvia afterward, tending the injured, including Kevin, down by the catch pool. She didn’t want to meet David’s eyes, instead looking to her charges lined up neatly in a small field hospital consisting of a pop-up gazebo and a groundsheet.
“My family,” she said at last. “I did it for them.” She glanced up. “I refused to fight, but I said I would be their doctor so long as I could help anyone.” She looked away. “Vasily –”
David’s lips pressed together. Silvia turned back. “I tried to save him, but Carla, she, she –” Tears welled in her eyes. “Why did I go with her?”
“I might be dead if you hadn’t,” Kevin said, sticking up for her. He looked up at David from where he lay on the ground. “She did all she could to look after anyone hurt.”
David paused to think. “You’d better go help Veronika,” he said at last. “She’s at the hospital.”
Silvia nodded. “I’ll go as soon as I know they’ll be OK.” She looked at her patients again.
“I’ll send someone to help move them.”
Kevin struggled to get to his feet. “I can look after myself.”
“Sit down!” Silvia said, rushing to his side. Kevin fended her off. “If he can walk, so can I,” he said, pointing at David’s legs.
Silvia’s eyes followed his finger, her eyes widening as she noticed the bandages and field splint on David’s legs, and the rough crutch he was using. She frowned and pointed to a spot on the ground sheet. “Over there!”
David held up his hand and shook his head.
“Don’t make me make you,” she said, advancing.
“Remember,” David said, “do no harm.”
Silva stopped and glared at him. “Then don’t tempt me to. Get over there now.” She pointed at the ground with one hand, the other on her hip.
Kevin grinned. “Better do as she says. No one can save you now.”
Chaos reigned supreme in the immediate aftermath of the battle. Many adults carried wounds, some worse than others. Most of the able-bodied helped with the injured, taking them to the pavilion on improvised stretchers after Nicole and Joyce Abramovich had applied field dressings. At the pavilion, Yuri and Bethany triaged the incoming wounded, sending the worst cases on to the hospital, where Veronika and Silvia waited.
Silvia let David go after changing his dressings, setting his leg, and making sure he had a proper pair of crutches to hobble around on. He made his way to the fabricators to help produce masks and power supplies.
Two gaping holes in the cavern ceiling were letting the native atmosphere pour in, one where the waterfall had once flowed, and a much larger one in the ceiling, where the grenade had triggered the rock fall. They had several hours’ grace, but the outside air was now mixing with Haven’s faster than their climate system could remove it. No animal life would survive the insidious creep of poisonous carbon dioxide.
David sent the engineering apprentices to fan out, making sure everyone, including the wounded, had masks and spare power packs. Meanwhile David cleared their warehouse of their emergency stockpile. He headed to the pavilion with a cart containing sheets of plastic, portable air scrubbers, drums of lithium hydroxide, and rolls of duct tape.
Heidi’s and John’s apprentices returned from distributing masks and worked to seal the pavilion well enough to allow the air scrubbers to keep the carbon dioxide down to a safe level. They didn’t worry about the hospital – it was the one building in Haven with its own air scrubbers.
Job done, David paused to mop the sweat from his brow, stepping aside as Bethany exited the pavilion in a hurry, carrying her medical bag.
“What’s the rush?” he asked.
“Incoming wounded,” she shouted over her shoulder. “From Broken Hill.”
Turning, he spotted two dirty, sweat-soaked figures walking their way. David recognized Nathalie, and … he strode to meet them, a strange, almost-forgotten emotion bursting forth: joy.
“John! John, is it really you?”
John grinned, his teeth white against his dirty face. “In the flesh!”
David embraced him, crutches forgotten. He pulled back, frowning. “There’s not much of it.”
‘Yeah, well, nothing a square meal or ten won’t fix.” He pulled a protein bar out of his pocket and took a bite as David hugged Nathalie.
“Been busy here, I see,” John said around a mouthful of bar, looking toward the new opening in the ceiling.
David suppressed a surge of fury. “That, and the waterfall’s stopped. The pavilion’s OK for a few days, and the hospital, but …”
“… none of the animals will survive,” Heidi finished.
“We must be able to do something,” Nathalie said, her voice wavering.
“Of course,” John said, even as he exchanged high-fives with the apprentices, who gathered around, excited and happy to see him alive. “OK you lot, we need a lot of plastic sheeting, some bots, and more duct tape than you’ve ever seen in your life. You, you, and you,” he said, pointing at Vasily, Kurt, and Kevin Miller, “get over to the fabricators and start making some. Mia, take the others and round up the bots. We’ll need those climbers on the ceiling, and others to transport the sheeting on the outside.”
“How long will it take?” David asked.
John pursed his lips, thinking. “Perhaps a day, maybe longer. We’ll have to b
ring structural aluminum down from Broken Hill, too. There’s not enough here.”
David nodded, his heart sinking. Too long. Their animals would die, more innocent blood on his hands. He mustn’t think of that now, though. He turned his attention back to John.
“Inside,” David said, tilting his head toward the pavilion.
“Mate, we have to get cracking,” replied John. “The sooner we get back from Broken Hill, the sooner we can get started on sealing the cavern.”
“Understood. But another half hour won’t make too much difference, will it?”
John shrugged, “Nooo … but why?”
“Because you’re starving and you’re exhausted. So first you are going in there for one of those square meals you mentioned. Then you’re going to shower and change. Then you can go.”
John started to protest, but felt two pairs of hands on his back as Nathalie and Elizabeth pushed him toward the door David held open.
“Do it,” David said. “You’re no good to anyone without fuel in your body.”
John sighed and accepted his fate.
“We have an idea!” Mia said. She and Vasily had hoped to find John, but he’d already left with Elizabeth for Broken Hill, so they’d gone to David. Behind them a small crowd tagged along. The children of Haven came too, each wearing their breather masks and carrying a plastic bag with a small silvery cylinder attached to it.
“I’m listening,” he said, sparing them a moment and a smile.
“We’ve been thinking about the animals,” Mia said. “We know how we can save them, or at least some of them.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I was thinking how it was a shame we don’t have the Hab anymore,” she said, “because we could have put them in there.” She looked over to where the original habitat modules had been until the previous year. It had been their emergency shelter in case of situations like this, but it had aged and become difficult to maintain. Last year they’d dismantled it after building the hospital and making it their new shelter.
Serendipity Page 17