Trigger Discipline (Team Oh Sh!t Book 1), page 7
Which, in theory, was fine. In practice, a total disaster.
On the second day he had stuck a slinky in the dryer. Why? He had finished his book and the babysitter couldn’t drive him to the library for a new one.
The metal slinky was destroyed. Looping twists of thin wire all wrapped around each other, melted in some parts, and tangled beyond repair.
That’s what the cell tower in front of them looked like. A giant ruined slinky.
It was barely recognizable. He could have easily walked right past it having no idea what it used to be.
Gabriel looked morose. He was staring up at the tangled heap for a solid three minutes. Eyes flicking around the damage, tracing the lines of metal. For what, Blake didn’t know. There was no way the thing was salvageable, even if they had more than a small tool kit with them.
Gabriel wiped his hands on his pants. Without looking at Blake, he began trying to climb up one of the ruined lines of metal. He wasn’t quite tall enough to make the foothold, and the sight of him jumping for it was comical.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked, trying not to laugh.
Gabriel nearly growled in frustration. “Trying to climb up. I might be able to get to the box.”
What box? Blake looked through the pile of charred metal. Even if he could find the box, which was a big if, the thing was destroyed. Useless without the height. They didn’t make cell towers that tall just for fun.
“Gabriel,” he said, the name sitting strange on his tongue. Formal. Weighted. But he couldn’t bring himself to call him Gabe. “We need to find another way.”
His lips pressed together. “This is the mission.”
“The mission is a fucked up slinky.”
His eyebrows drew together in confusion. It made his helmet wriggle on his forehead. Blake didn’t explain. Instead, he moved away and looked up at the sky.
Their mission was to reestablish communication. Communication wasn’t necessarily limited to a cell tower. There were thousands of ways to communicate; they just had to find the right way.
Anything with electricity was out. The power grid was down. Or melted. Whatever, same thing. But humanity communicated before electricity, didn’t they? They used to be able to send messages across oceans and continents. All without expensive cell phone plans.
Ignoring Gabriel’s exasperated expression, he tried to step back and look at the broader picture. Sometimes the details didn’t make sense unless you could see where they were supposed to go.
A way to communicate…
And like a winning hand of Solitaire, the pieces all flitted into place.
Whirling around, he missed the confusion coloring the soldier’s face as he began.
It had been a while, but he thought he could remember everything from that afternoon. Thinking back, he tried to remember that day. The one where his mom had been gone, so his dad had pulled the blinds. They were still in pajamas even though it was already past noon. With plain turkey sandwiches and a handful of potato chips on a Styrofoam plate, he’d been sitting on the floor, leaning against his father’s legs as the TV flickered.
If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the narrator’s posh, English accent.
“You know Morse code, right?” he called over his shoulder as he began digging through some rubble.
Gabriel blinked at him. “Kind of. Why?”
“Trains,” he mumbled as he dug, pulling a big chunk of cement attached to rebar away. With his fingertips, he pried a perfect piece of wood free. The bit was about three inches tall and one inch wide. Probably part of a leg to a table. He held it up for Gabriel’s inspection.
“Trains? What are you talking about?” he asked as Blake tossed the wood piece to him. Gabriel caught it easily. Blake climbed the pile of rubble, looking into the walls of the destroyed building. Part of the bricks were melted, but most of the building had been crushed when the cell tower collapsed through it. Blake guessed it used to be an apartment complex. A couch was teetering from the second floor, and he avoided lingering under it.
“I need aluminum. See if you can find some cans of soda.”
“Blake,” Gabriel called after him, tossing the block of wood by his backpack to go after him. “What are you doing?”
“Trains,” he repeated as he clung to some framing to dig through the ruined wall. “My dad is a huge train nerd. He watches documentaries and stuff all the time. Had a whole setup in our basement.” Behind some insulation, he finally found what he was looking for. Grabbing the insulated wire, he had to remind himself that all electricity was off before he felt confident enough to tug it. The wire didn’t budge. Blake leaned his entire weight into it, yanking. It stuck for a moment before finally ripping from the wall, sending him cartwheeling backward.
Gabriel caught him with an oof. He made a face as Blake’s elbow hit him in the shoulder, but he didn’t drop him. He looked down at Blake and the kinked wire clutched in his hand.
“Thanks,” he smiled, a little bashfully. He was acutely aware that Gabriel was effortlessly holding him. His arms weren’t even straining, snugly wrapped around his waist, fingers almost touching. Swallowing, he realized they were almost close enough for their noses to touch. He could feel Gabriel’s measured breaths puffing against his face.
“I’m happy for your father,” Gabriel said, not unkindly. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
Blake tried to keep a hold of his thoughts, but he was just realizing that Gabriel had small flecks of green and gray in his eyes. “Uh, oh, right! Trains. What goes along with trains?”
Gabriel’s lips twitched. “Dastardly bad guys with impressive mustaches and a surplus of rope?”
“Close,” Blake said wryly. “But no. Telegraphs.”
It took Gabriel a minute before his eyes widened in understanding. “Morse code!”
“You said this Irving of yours was a genius, so…I thought he might have some kind of non-electricity contingency.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything. He just stared at Blake for a long moment before he seemed to come to himself, setting him back on his feet. “How did you even come to that?”
Blake shrugged, a little self-conscious now that there was so much space between them. “Just ah…came to me, I guess.”
“What else do you need?”
Ever the soldier, once Blake gave him a list, he was on a mission. He found everything they needed.
Blake held the backpack as they stuffed the wire, block, batteries from a TV remote they found half-crushed under a lawn chair, and several cans of soda. He yanked it away from Gabriel when he tried to put it on his own back.
“We can set this up at the station,” Gabriel said, and Blake figured it was as good a place as any.
They started back in silence. The sky was beginning to darken, but it wasn’t quite there yet. Like the world was stuck between day and night. It was playing tricks on Blake’s mind; he was beginning to see phantoms in every dark corner. Sometimes, he could swear he heard the clicks and whines over the blood rushing in his ears.
He couldn’t help but be reminded of just how useless he’d been when they saw the aliens. Sure, if he had his ambulance and a few minutes of breathing room, he could come up with something half-baked. But when it came down to it, he’d had to be rescued every time. First by Tommy and then by Gabriel.
Blake had never considered himself weak or scared before. He’d been close enough to death countless times, but that had been when it was chasing someone else. And even though Blake had been willing to stand between that person and the reaper, ultimately, it didn’t matter if he lost. He didn’t know the patient on the gurney. He wouldn’t feel their loss so keenly. At worst, he might think of them with regret, or as a blow to his ego.
This was different. This wasn’t cancer or an allergic reaction. This wasn’t some earthly horror he had the training and weapons to fight against.
What was he supposed to do against a giant alien? Sedate it?
He didn’t even have a gun. Or a knife. Hell, he’d take a lead pipe. Anything to occupy his hands right now.
Instead, he was completely reliant on a stranger. A man he was literally walking through hell with, and he didn’t know if he had any allergies. Or what his favorite color was. And maybe he was finally cracking up, or that tire had rattled his brains more than he thought, but that bothered him.
Swallowing, he tried to keep his voice low. “Do you have any family?”
Gabriel side-eyed him. After a moment, his lips twitched. “Sure.”
He said it so flippantly it made Blake grit his teeth. Clearly, he was trying to do something here. Cracking his knuckles, he breathed out of his nose.
“You’re the youngest. I’d say you have one sibling, but they’re much older than you. They went into something safe, something the family approved of. I’m guessing academia. You spent your whole life in their shadow. Every teacher you had compared you to them, so you joined the military young as a way to subtly rebel and get out from under their shadow.”
Gabriel’s boots crunched to a stop, his gun lowering slightly so he could stare down at Blake. His face was inscrutable, hazel eyes flicking across his face.
“I have a sister,” he said slowly, jaw tense. “How did you know all of that?”
Blake suddenly remembered why he normally kept his mouth shut. It was easier than trying to explain the little mannerisms and triggers he picked up. How was he supposed to casually explain that the way Gabriel walked, his slightly different uniform, and the subtle way he stood taller whenever someone older walked into the room gave him away?
“I guessed.”
“Bullshit,” Gabriel said, stepping closer.
Blake craned his head and forced himself to look up into Gabriel’s eyes. They were hard to find under the brim of his helmet. Harder to look at when he realized they changed color, flecks of green and gold shifting as the light faded.
“I’ve met guys in psyops who couldn’t do that.”
“Psyops is pretty intense, right?” Blake asked, trying to divert the conversation.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him, but he allowed the diversion, turning to continue down the street. Blake had to hustle to keep up with his long strides.
“I mean, in Starship Troopers, they were working with mind control and stuff.”
Gabriel huffed. “This isn’t Starship Troopers.”
Blake gestured to the desolate street around them. “Are you sure?”
That had the soldier laughing, and it felt good. Like maybe there was a real person under the plate carrier and helmet, one who had seen cult favorite sci-fi movies and understood his references.
“Still didn’t tell me about your parents,” Blake nudged as they circled around a crater in the middle of the street. Half a Buick was sticking out of it.
“Tell you what,” Gabriel began, checking his watch. “You tell me how you knew all that about me, and I’ll tell you all about Craig and Linda Lennox.”
“Would you believe I’m psychic?”
“No.” Gabriel’s teeth flashed as he smiled. “You’re not that interesting.”
Blake snorted. “You don’t know it, but that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Which, in retrospect, might be a little sad. But Blake was trying to balance between introspection and not losing his goddamn mind, so he wasn’t going to analyze it. “I notice things. A lot of things.”
“Things told you I joined the military right out of high school against my parent’s wishes?”
“No. They…it’s not like I’m reading a book about you. It’s not a special power. I just pick up on body language and stuff. Notice behaviors. I can’t turn it off.”
Gabriel side-eyed him. “Why would you want to?”
“Because it’s weird.” Blake pushed some of his hair out of his face. “And exhausting.”
Gabriel didn’t say anything for a long time, and Blake was afraid that meant he agreed. He wasn’t sure why that was a bad thing. He just met the man a few hours ago, but there was something honest in Gabriel. Something comforting. Like he was an open book for the world, so it didn’t matter what Blake picked up on. He’d tell him if he asked.
“My mom stayed at home, and my dad worked in IT. After my sister was born, they were told they couldn’t have any more kids. Fifteen years later, I was born. They always pushed a good education. My sister has a doctorate and a master’s.” He smiled softly. “Imagine their horror when I showed up with a crew cut and some enlistment papers.”
“Are you close now?”
“As close as we can be when I can’t tell them where I’m going, what I’m doing, or when I’ll be home. They hated the military life, so it was easier for them not to know. Easier for me, too.”
Blake couldn’t exactly relate, but he understood.
It all seemed so silly now, as he stepped over broken bits of building and pretended the red sticky stuff on his boots was paint. He couldn’t remember the last thing he said to his mom and dad, probably nothing. Just surface level stuff. Why? Because he was petty and angry, and they didn’t try to understand him. The same could be said for him.
They’d been loving, maybe not in the way he saw on TV or in books, but in their own way. In a quiet way, they always made sure he had new books to read, or never said anything when he preferred to stay in his room rather than come out during family holidays.
Tears burned at the back of his eyes, and he clutched the backpack straps to do something with his hands. Anything to keep from crying right now. He didn’t have time for that.
It’s never your turn.
Pushing all thoughts of regret from his mind, he focused on following Gabriel. On watching the pull of his uniform over his shoulders and the silent, confident way in which he navigated the streets.
Darkness fell just as a thin drizzle of rain began. Blake looked up at the sky, squinting against the slick droplets. It wasn’t a proper downpour. It was almost like the rain was hovering—striking the atmosphere and getting hit with the pause button. Eyelashes clinging to the wet, Blake tried not to shiver.
Gabriel had been silent for the last thirty minutes. Blake figured he didn’t like being out in the open. Which made sense. They hadn’t seen an alien in over an hour, but the tension was palpable. It hovered between them like another person.
Blake wasn’t ashamed to admit that he stood closer to the soldier as darkness fell. The hissing of rain on fires wasn’t even enough to make him relax. He thought he would be happy to see the embers glowing dark, but he realized that with the rain came the darkness. And cold.
It wouldn’t be a trifecta without cold, dark, and scared.
Just as he opened his mouth to suggest finding someplace dry, Gabriel stiffened. In the distance he could hear the signature clicking that came with the drone aliens. At least, Gabriel had called it a drone. Blake thought it was better than calling it the ‘Sphere of Impending Fucking Doom’, so he went with it.
Through the wet he spotted a potential shelter. Grabbing Gabriel’s elbow, he pointed to a pile of rubble at the edge of an abandoned construction site. Gabriel took his hand and dragged him over loose rebar and piles of sand until they got to a huge dump truck. Falling to his knees, Gabriel slipped under with Blake not far behind.
They wriggled until their backs were pressed against the large dual tires. Rain pattered on the metal above their heads. Blake couldn’t sit up straight, having to squish down in a way that would no doubt have his back screaming. He couldn’t imagine how the taller Gabriel was handling it.
“How far?” Gabriel asked, his voice a little terser than it had been before.
“Um,” Blake tried to get his bearings. “A couple of miles as the crow flies.”
But there were demolished buildings and craters in the road. He thought that went without saying.
Gabriel nodded, his shoulders high enough to touch his ears. He was uncomfortable with waiting. And probably even more so alone. Blake wasn’t very familiar with soldiers, but he was almost positive they were usually pack animals.
To be fair, he’d seen Phin’s biceps. He would feel more comfortable with him here, too.
His legs ached. Nerves buzzing as blood flow began recirculating around his tired limbs. He didn’t think he was unfit, but he was definitely not hitting the gym with any regularity. Sighing, he leaned back against the tire and tried to relax.
It was quiet under the truck. He knew it was stupid, but being under the big piece of equipment gave him a chance to breathe. Akin to a little kid hiding under a blanket to keep the monsters away, he finally took stock of himself.
His clothes were disgusting. He barely recognized his dark blue uniform. Wet and filthy, it clung to his skin in a way that guaranteed he would be cold all night. He knew he should be grateful they weren’t in the dead of winter, but he couldn’t feel much of anything beyond the exhaustion. It went further than the physical. He was tired. Not just of walking but of thinking. Of being afraid. Of processing horrors he thought only existed in the pixels of a video game, or the flashing scenes of a movie screen.
“If you could be anywhere else, where would you be?” Gabriel’s voice was hushed, but it sounded too loud. Like the first thunderclap of a storm. It made the hairs on the back of Blake’s neck stand on end.
When he finally looked over, he could see the soldier watching him out of the corner of his eye. His gun was resting across his lap. Even inert, it looked scary. All hard edges and connotations now lay only a few inches from Blake, yet in the span of a few hours, he’d grown comfortable with the weapon. Even fond.
Head rolling on the tire, he looked away from the gun and up at Gabriel. “Somewhere warm,” he finally answered. “With tacos.”
Gabriel chuckled, low and deep. His shoulders started to relax a little. Blake took that as permission to ask, “What about you?”
“Tacos sound good,” Gabriel agreed. “But I don’t mind the cold. I’d spend all my time in the north. Maybe a nice cabin on a mountain. Something with a view.”
