My voice choked up as I coughed. He'd missed my throat but it still felt like something had been broken inside. I got the knife up despite the fact the left side of my body was numb and tingling, and got ready to defend myself.
But they were scrabbling away, up the stairs, and I could hear them sobbing as I pulled myself up. Muscles screamed and my vision swam, and I knew blood was running down my face, but I didn't care in the slightest. I tossed my head to get rid of the blood running into my eyes and growled low in my throat.
I've got you now, motherfucker... the lizard hissed through my brain. My mouth was full of the hot taste of blood and despite, or maybe with, the pain I relished everything happening at that exact moment.
...HATRED FOR ALL MANKIND!...
I took one step up the stairs after my prey when I heard her.
"ANT!" Nagle, her voice filled with fear and dismay.
My attacker? Or her and my (probably) dead best friend? The urge to kill, the hatred that had always been a frozen block of ice inside of me, the pure unbridled primal rage that filled me, all of them pushed me to go after my prey, to pull him down on the ground, and tear his throat out with my teeth.
"ANT! PLEASE!" Nagle's voice reached something that had been shoved aside. The hate turned to ashes, leaving me feeling exhausted and empty.
Dammit
I turned and went down the stairs, stopping when Nagle turned and faced me from where she was crouched down next to Bomber, bent over and rocking back and forth while she was sobbing, the matte black of my Gerber fighting knife in her fist. She looked at me, and then turned to face me, straightening up.
"Is he..." I asked, even though I was suddenly terrified of the answer in a way I hadn't been scared in the stairwell.
"My fucking gut hurts." John moaned, rolling over. The axe was embedded in the layers of coveralls.
"Don't say anything, lemme see the wound." I said, falling to my knees next to him.
He was my best friend. He'd been there through everything. Even when I got divorced, he'd been there. With a drink, with a shoulder to cry on, with an outstretched hand to pull me to my feet and support to help me carry on. He was my best friend.
I loved him.
I pulled his hand off the axe and dug my fingers into the cloth, terrified at how deep the wound had to have gone.
And found the axe stopped.
"What the fuck?" I asked, and then pulled the axe free.
No bleeding and I unzipped his coveralls and pulled them open.
The axe had hit the flak vests we'd wrapped underneath the top layers of coveralls.
The vests we'd used to break the wind and to add more padding.
The wide blade, the way John folded around it, all of it made it so the axe didn't penetrate the twin layers of thick Kevlar.
"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, YOU FUCKER!" I yelled, fury surging over the relief.
Nagle laughed. Sitting there in the dark, with the wind howling around us, she began laughing. Tears were rolling down her grease covered cheeks, blown to the side by the wind,
I started laughing too.
"It's not funny, my stomach really hurts." John groaned, and I held out a hand and pulled him into a sitting position.
"I thought you were dead, you fucker." I said, still chuckling. The wind agreed, chuckling as the gust wound down and it picked at us, plucking at our clothing and trying to worm cold fingers in with us.
"So did I." John admitted. He looked at his stomach, where there was only a red mark. "Hurts like a motherfucker."
"Be right back." Nagle said, standing up. She shined her flashlight behind the CQ counter before going around it, and checked the handle on The Closet.
I watched her shine her flashlight inside, and squeezed John's hand. I hadn't let go of him, and part of me didn't want to. I watched the doors to the outside, both sets open to the night, and John kept an eye on the staircase door and the hallway door.
Nagle came back, shaking her head.
"What?" I asked.
"Gauges are smashed. So is the breaker box." She told us, and I shook my head.
"It's not him." I told them. "Whoever it was, there wasn't anything supernatural about them."
Nagle shined the light in my face, and Bomber whistled. "Whoever it was fucked your ass up."
"Yeah, but if it's one of us, we'll fucking know." I told her, smiling, "I wrecked him up good enough that he won't be able to hide it."
"He really fucked up your face, Ant." Nancy told me.
I just shrugged. "I'm a guy. If God wanted me to be pretty, he'd have made me a girl." I quoted my Father.
Both of them chuckled at that.
"We need to get back to the others." Bomber said, and I nodded, scooping up a handful of snow and pressing it on my nose. That made me hiss in pain, the pressure of my hand making sparks appear in my vision as my nose went numb.
"Just a second." Nagle snarled, and began kicking down the snowmen. I could hear her panting with exertion, but Bomber and I just watched.
"Now we can go." She said, stepping back from the massacred snow people.
Bomber and I nodded, and we went down the hallway, through both sets of double doors, all the way to the end stairway. I dropped the handful of bloody slush just after the middle set of double doors. It made a wet splat when it hit the tiles, spattering the right hand wall.
The first stairway might have John's attacker or their friends in it, the second one had been booby trapped before, but so far the third one had been safe.
We checked the steps quickly, shining our lights on the steps and then the landing, but didn't find anything. We looked under and behind the steps, finding nothing.
"Why isn't this one fucked with?" I wondered.
"They need one they can use to move up and down quickly." John answered as we climbed the steps. He stopped and bent over slightly, breathing heavy. "I think I'm hurt, Ant."
"Drive on, John, it isn't much further." I told him.
"Stuff your tampon in, Bomber. Buckle down and drive on." Nagle pushed by him and moved ahead to the landing, opening the door to the second floor hallway and looked out of it.
"Oh, shit." She breathed, freezing in place. "Oh my God. Ant! Bomber!" She whispered, and the tone held something I'd never heard from Nagle in the years I'd known her.
Terror.
I moved up, and looked out in the hallway.
Another snowman faced the stairs, in front of us.
Its arms were sticks, taken from the trees outside. The buttons were Class-A brass buttons. It wore a BDU softcap with E-5 rank on it. Its mouth was made of something that glinted wetly. Its nose was a shattered flashlight. The eyes were surrounded by pink snow.
Its eyes were blue and covered with a thin sheen of ice.
Its human eyes.
Warm Water
I'd learned early to deal with pain.
My childhood was enough pain that
I was removed from my parent's home
in 1978.
But Alfenwehr was ready to teach me all
new heights of pain.
The blue eyes stared at us, hugely round and pushed into the face of the snowman, who's smile mocked us with good cheer. The wet strip was a strip of uniform, too dark for water, which glittered in the light.
It hadn't been here before we'd headed for the motor pool.
"Let's go." Nagle said, her voice only a little unsteady. I looked at the snowman's face again and swallowed around a huge lump in my throat. "Quietly." she hissed.
She led the way into the hallway, moving slowly, shining her light carefully on the walls, on the floor, and on the ceiling.
Bomber and I edged by it, the blue eyes staring at us as we went by, surrounded by pink snow.
...human eyes...
Icicles hung from the suspended ceiling and from the plastic covering the fluorescent light fixtures.
Bomber suddenly fell against the wall and vomited, everything he'd eaten the day before co
ming up in a steaming rush. Bile splashed on the wall and the floor, steaming in the cold, and he started to fold forward.
I rushed forward and grabbed him by the back of his coveralls, pulling him to his feet.
"Come on, John, keep moving." I whispered.
"I'm really hurt, Ant." He moaned as I threw his arm over my shoulder. "Goddamn it, it fucking figures. Double digit midget and some nut-case hits me with an axe."
That axe had hit him hard, he'd gotten his arms in the way and managed to half catch the axe handle, he'd folded around it and bled away some of the force, and the Kevlar had kept the bit from ripping into him, but I'd seen that swing. That swing had been a man-killer, and I was surprised that it hadn't just ripped through him anyway.
Nagle stayed just in front us, sometimes looking back, as we took forever to stumble halfway down the hallway.
...just a few more steps...
My head was swimming, and blood kept dripping from my face, spattering on the tiles as we walked. John got heavier and heavier, leaning on me more and more, his breathing becoming labored as we stumbled down the hallway. Nagle had to hold the door at the mid-way point open for us so I didn't drop Bomber as we moved through it.
...just a few more steps...
"You all right, Ant?" Nancy asked. I nodded. "John, you OK?" John just groaned, nodding slightly. "Come on, boys, we're almost there, stuff it up and drive on."
...just a few more steps...
Finally we were at the door, and Nagle knocked on it and waited. She knocked again, this time harder, and still we waited.
Footsteps thudded above us, heavy deliberate thuds that went from behind us toward the other end of the building.
A scream echoed down the hall, the wind making my eyes water.
The doors that divided the hallway in half were open somehow, or the stairwell door was wedged open. That was the only way the wind could be that strong. I squinted at the doors, but it didn't help me see through the darkness.
"Who's out there?" Came a voice.
Hernandez.
"It's Nagle, Stillwater, and Bomber. Open up, Bomber's hurt." She said.
There was a moment of silence, and then the locks to the door snapped loudly in the darkness of the hallway. The door creaked open, and I could see Hernandez staring at first Nagle and then Bomber and me.
Bomber took that second to throw up again.
"Hurry up, there's someone out there." Hernandez whispered, stepping back and motioning us frantically.
"No shit." Nagle sneered, pushing Bomber and I through the door.
Hernandez's face was blurry in the flashlight, and if I moved my head too fast I kept getting sparks shooting across my vision. Even the dim light from his flashlight was bright and hurt my eyes.
We staggered in and I heard the door lock behind us. I pulled John into the living area of the barracks room, past the bathroom and wall lockers that were built into the walls.
People were huddled in small groups, and on the bed Lewis was still burrowed under the covers with Carter. One of them was snoring, and part of me dimly knew that it was a good sign.
"What happened? Where have you been?" Hernandez asked, his voice quiet. Nagle ignored him, walking across the room and grabbing the handle of the radiator and cranking it.
There was a loud knocking noise that seemed to start a thousand feet below us and slowly work its way up to the radiator, which trembled and shook as insane howler monkeys beat on the pipes with clubs.
"What the fuck?" Jacobs asked, shining his light in Bomber's and my faces.
"I'll explain in a minute." Nagle said, "Hernandez, get a wet washcloth, I need to clean off their faces." She came over and grabbed my arm. "Stillwater, Bomber, I need the two of you to sit down on the bed." She gently guided us over to the edge of the bed that Daniels was sleeping on. We sat down and Nagle prodded Daniels till he sleepily scooted away from us.
Daniels...
Hernandez came back and Nagle took the washcloth from him and handed him her flashlight. "Keep it on Stillwater's face."
Lewis...
"Jesus, what happened to him?" Hernandez asked.
Jacobs...
"He got his ass kicked in the stairwell after someone hit Bomber in the stomach with an axe." Nagle snapped, starting to wipe off my face.
Hernandez...
She pulled down my lower lip and swore. "You've got a bunch of broken teeth, Ant." She told me, wiping my lip. "Goddamn it, you're bleeding everywhere, baby, and I can't get that fucking grease off of you."
"An axe? They hit Bomber with an axe?" Jacobs asked, looking over at Bomber, who was still leaning against me with his arms wrapped around his stomach. He was moaning softly to himself and rocking back and forth, and I put one arm around him and pulled him close.
"Yeah." Nagle answered, her voice flat and cold. "Someone tried to kill him."
Carter...
"Who?" Hernandez asked.
"How the fuck should I know? Whoever it was beat the shit out of Ant, too." She stopped in the middle of wiping off my forehead. "Hey, Dez, shine the light here." Hernandez did what she asked and she leaned forward, one finger reaching out to touch something that seemed to feel like it was embedded in my brain, it felt like she was poking her finger in there and rooting around.
"Goddamn, Stillwater, you have a tooth stuck in your forehead, man." Jacobs said, coming over and standing next to Nagle.
"Bastard kicked me..." I slurred. The whole room kept tilting, but something was wrong. Something important. The lizard kept trying to reset his boards, get a clearer picture of what was going on, but all he was getting was static. In front of me both Nagles were scrubbing off my face, two heads and four arms connected to one too-wide body.
"I know, honey." She said, then turned to Hernandez, "Wake Lewis up, get his sewing kit and see if he has any rubbing alcohol for spit shining his boots in the bathroom." Hernandez nodded, and she went back to wiping my face, carefully circling my nose. "And see if he has a Leatherman, neither of the boys is in shape to tell me which of them has the Leatherman stashed where."
"Stomach hurts." Bomber groaned, then leaned forward and retched loudly, bringing up only strings of bile. Nagle shined the flashlight into the small puddle he made and sighed with relief. It was a clear yellowish color.
My stomach rumbled in agreement, and before I could stop myself or warn her, I leaned forward and threw up on the floor, splashing Nagle where she knelt in front of me. I only heaved a few times, and it made my head swim, with bright sparks across my vision and I almost passed out from the pain in my head.
"Oh baby." Nagle said, reaching her arms out and gathering both of us up. She was still dressed in the coveralls, the cold dampness feeling good against my face. I was aware I was shivering cold, but somehow was light and fuzzy warm. My head rang, and my thoughts were jumbled.
"What the fuck?" Daniels asked, rolling over. He shoved at my back. "Get the fuck off my bed."
I collapsed against Nagle, boneless, closing my eyes. My head hurt really bad.
"Love you, Nancy." I muttered, trying to get one hand up to grope her breast.
"I know, Ant." She replied, easily deflecting my hand. It was the answer she always gave me when I told her I loved her.
"Get up, Daniels, Stillwater and Bomber are fucked up." Jacobs said. "Christ, he's bleeding everywhere."
I felt Daniels moving around behind me, every movement making my skull hurt and ring. I cried out in pain as the bed rocked, and both Bomber and I retched again.
"Help me lay them down." Nagle ordered, and I felt hands on me. "We gotta get them out of these clothes. You two strip them, I gotta get out of these wet clothes."
"I've got some blankets." Hernandez said, and I felt someone unzipping my clothing. I fought, briefly, crying out and trying to get the hands off of me.
I was trapped in the stairwell, fighting someone I couldn't see.
I felt lips against mine, and I opened my eyes to see Nagle
kissing me, her eyes shut as her tongue grazed my lips. I let her strip my clothing away, marveling at how it felt like she had four or five hands. My boots were pulled off, and I was aware of her stripping off my wet socks and underwear.
She stopped kissing me and I pawed at the air, trying to get her back.
"Easy, Ant, I'll be there in a second, I gotta undress." She whispered huskily.
"Love you, Nancy." I muttered, my words mushy from swollen lips.
"I know, baby." She answered.
"He's got a really bad bruise on his stomach." Jacobs said, and my hands moved down, looking for the bruise they were talking about, and finding that I'd been stripped naked. I rubbed my stomach, looking for sore spots and trying to warm up my hands. Someone laid a warm blanket around me, and I shivered on the bed.
"Dammit, that axe must have hurt him worse than..." Nagle's voice trailed off into a purring noise and I squirmed under the blanket, feeling someone's hands on my stomach. There was silence for a moment, just a buzzing background noise, a thick noise that seemed to increase or decrease at random, but I knew it was important even if I didn't know what the noise was or why it was important. Someone's hand was on my erection, and it felt good as it slowly stroked. It brought up the memory of the last time I'd lain with Nancy, the way she felt in my hands, the way her body strained against mine, and the noises she'd made.
A sharp pain yanked me out of the memory of Nagle rubbing her breasts on my chest in the basement, and I tried to pull loose of the hands that were holding me, tried to pull my head loose from the pressure that was holding the side of my face against the bed. I got a hand free and swung blindly, feeling my fist connect against the guy I was fighting in the stairwell with.
Three Little Snowmen (Damned of the 2/19th) Page 22