Summer's End, page 27
Right then, a new idea popped into her head.
She leaned forward and took a whiff of Fletcher’s shirt. It smelled mostly like iron from the professor’s blood, but she was able to detect a different odor. One that matched what she smelled on her own clothes. That’s when it hit her. “It’s some kind of Scab repellent, isn’t it?”
“That’s as good a term as any,” Fletcher said, glancing at Dice while the group continued its scamper to the trucks.
“It must not work very well, since Frost still ate it,” Summer said, laughing and wheezing for air, the dog’s body bouncing in her arms as she ran. “So did the rest of your guys.”
“We only put it on you three,” Dice said, his chest hardly moving at all.
“And the two of us,” Fletcher added.
Krista didn’t buy his answer. “Why not everyone?”
“There wasn’t time. We had to act fast.”
“Well then, I guess we should thank you,” Krista said, wondering why Fletcher would do that, especially against his own team like that. Tactically, he should have saved his men first. Not to mention his boss, Frost.
Summer groaned, no doubt due to the canine’s weight taking a toll on her back. Yet she hadn’t slowed down, not a lick, keeping up with Fletcher as the group motored along the fence line at a pace just short of a sprint. “Could’ve used it yesterday when I was out doing my thing.”
“We didn’t have it yesterday,” Dice said.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“It’s brand new,” Dice said, pushing his legs forward another stride. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take over?”
“Dude, I got this. Back off.”
The transport trucks came into view three steps later, bringing newfound energy to Krista’s legs.
“Which one?” Fletcher asked her.
Only two vehicles were parked in front of the main gate, instead of three as expected. She pointed. “The one in back.”
“Are those your men?” Fletcher asked with concern in his voice, as a slew of bodies came into view. They were shredded into pieces, lying about the trucks along with several hundred spent bullet casings.
“Must have been a huge firefight,” Dice said.
“That’s disgusting,” Summer said when she arrived with the unconscious dog. She pointed with her elbow. “But at least they hit their targets.”
Krista followed her eyes, seeing a blanket of dead Scabs. Most with bullet holes and torn limbs. Blood everywhere. Nothing moving.
“Well, not all of them,” Krista said in an emotionally torn voice, stepping over what remained of her men. Bits and pieces of flesh dotted the landscape, as if they’d been fed through a wood chipper, white camo uniforms and all.
Dice stepped forward to help Fletcher load the professor into the back of the truck, taking over for Krista with one hand on the neck wound.
Krista shook off her emotions and flushed the pain in her heart. She had a job to do. There wasn’t time to grieve for her men.
She dug deep and found the stronger version of herself, then took a few moments to survey the Scab carnage. Some of the body parts weren’t torn or shredded at the ends as she expected. They’d been sliced clean, with precise edges.
Summer must have just noticed the same fact. “Someone chopped through them like butter.”
Krista agreed with the girl’s assessment. “With something sharp.”
Summer’s voice tensed. “Oh my God. The Nomad? He did this?”
Krista nodded, surveying the casings and other evidence. “Must have tried to rescue our men.”
“A minute late by the looks of it,” Summer said, standing by the back of the transport, shifting her weight between legs.
Krista realized the missing truck held the goods they’d brought for trade. “Took our supplies, too.”
Summer raised an eyebrow. “Or the Scabs did.”
“I doubt Scabs can drive,” Krista said in a terse voice, watching Fletcher and Dice move the professor forward, obviously making room for Summer and the dog. She noticed the professor’s breathing was shallower. “Come on, Summer. Hurry up. The professor doesn’t look so good.”
“A little help?” Summer asked her.
“Yeah, right. Sorry,” Krista said, stepping forward in a lurch to assist the girl into the truck with both hands.
Summer climbed the bumper and into the covered area of the truck, then put Sergeant Barkley down with a waist bend. She sat cross-legged next to the mutt, rubbing his neck with one hand, while pressing on his knife wound with the other.
Krista watched the girl bring her gaze to the professor, staring at him with tears falling from her eyes, looking as though someone had stuck a knife in her, too.
Krista figured Summer was torn between tending to the ugliest German Shepherd on the planet and Edison—a man who always had Summer’s back.
Granted, both the dog and the professor were fighting for their lives, but how could that girl prioritize an animal she barely knew over a person who had kept her safe and fed all these years? It didn’t make sense. At least not to Krista.
When the animal woke up with a whimper, Summer turned her attention to the canine, her face running a ghostly white when their eyes met. “I know it hurts, boy. But we’ll be home soon. Just hang in there.”
“Can you drive this thing?” Fletcher asked Krista, sounding more like a demand than a question.
“On it,” Krista snapped. But before she turned and completed a step toward the driver’s door, the professor sat up and gasped.
Everyone flinched in a startle.
“Krista? I need Krista?” the old man asked, his eyes glazed over.
Krista flew up the tailgate and into the cargo area, shoving past Summer. She knelt down next to Dice, nudging him to the side, then took Edison’s wrinkled hand in hers, squeezing it between her fingers. His skin was cold, terribly so, as if he’d been sleeping in a walk-in freezer. “I’m right here, Professor.”
His voice turned weak, almost to the point of a whisper. “Promise me something.”
She leaned in close. “Sure. Anything.”
“Stand by her,” he said in a fading tone.
“Who?”
“Summer,” he said, struggling for air to fuel his words. “She needs a loyal council.”
“For what?”
His words became even more choppy and weak. “To take over.”
“Take over?”
“Yes. Nirvana.”
Krista hesitated a few beats, not wanting to admit that she’d just heard those words. “She’s not ready, Professor.”
“Rules of Succession,” he said, the words arriving with mostly air. “Promise me.”
“Okay. I will. You have my word,” Krista said, feeling her heart break into two.
Edison took one last massive breath before the air in his lungs ran out. His head flopped back and tilted to the side, his eyes still open.
“Do something!” Summer screamed, tears flooding her face in waves.
Fletcher laid the old man back on the floorboard, resting his lifeless body on the cold steel.
“No! No! No!” Krista said, leaning forward and putting her hands on Edison’s chest to start CPR. She pumped and pumped, but the life in his eyes never returned.
The blackness had him.
CHAPTER 35
Krista finished dressing the dog’s wound with a wrap of cotton and medical tape from the vehicle’s first aid kit. It took eleven stitches to close the hole, but the dog took the pain like a champ, just like he had for the past half hour.
Summer never stopped stroking the animal’s fur the whole time, her eyes vacant with tears, even after her long bout of sobbing that seemed to have lasted forever.
Right now, Summer’s attention didn’t appear to be on anything specific, her stare aimed at a point somewhere off at the distance, beyond the back of the truck, far past the carnage littering the area.
Krista knew why. She felt the same way, staring at the blanket covering the professor’s lifeless body, fighting back the shock of his death.
Summer had done enough wailing for everyone, but it still didn’t lessen the grief squeezing Krista’s heart.
Tears are for the weak, Krista reminded herself, forcing the anguish from her heart.
“That should do it,” Krista said, finishing the wrap on Sergeant Barkley. She flashed a pair of tight eyes at Summer. It was obvious the girl needed a diversion, something to free her mind of the tragic, bloody death of her mentor and friend.
Krista knew the best way to do that was to grab Summer’s attention with something unexpected. Verbal, that was—an emotional redirect—part shock and part awe—or simply callous. Either would work, if she delivered the words in the proper tone and with the right inflection. Just enough to engage, but not so much as to hurt. “But I still think this was waste of supplies.”
Summer’s empty, watery stare vanished in a heartbeat, as she turned her eyes to Krista. “I’m sorry, what?”
“You heard me. Our medical supplies should be saved for two-legged creatures, not four.”
“How can you say that?”
“Simple logic. We must have priorities.”
“No way we’re letting Barkley die like the professor.”
Krista felt an emotional stab slam into her chest, but she wasn’t going to allow it to gain a foothold. Not entirely, otherwise she’d lose her status as Nirvana’s toughest SOB. “Jesus, Summer. I didn’t let him die. I did all I could.”
“She did,” Fletcher added from just beyond the tailgate, looking resolute, even though he wasn’t technically part of their team. “Edison lost too much blood. There’s wasn’t any more anyone could do.”
“Not what I meant,” Summer said, making eye contact with Sergeant Barkley. “Someone has to survive today.”
“You mean like the four of us?” Dice quipped in a matter-of-fact way, flashing his attention at Krista, then Fletcher and Summer.
Summer patted the dog on the neck. “Five.”
Dice nodded, looking as though he’d just surrendered. Or he was trying to be supportive. Hard to tell. “Sure, five. That’s something at least.”
“We should get moving,” Fletcher said to Dice, both men standing a foot apart, only inches beyond the rear of the truck.
“You guys aren’t leaving, are you?” Summer asked.
Krista put a hand on Summer’s arm, giving her an eye flare and a subtle head shake, hoping the girl would understand the gesture. Their enemies, or former enemies, needed to leave, but Krista didn’t want to utter the actual words. Fletcher and Dice couldn’t be allowed to follow them home, not without compromising something Edison held most dear—the location of Nirvana. “They have their own people to think about, now that Frost is gone.”
“She’s right,” Fletcher said. “I’m afraid this is where we part ways. We’ve all got new responsibilities. People to think about.”
Krista took her time, scooting a path to the rear of the truck, while her mind went into deep analysis mode.
She wondered what life in the silo would be like now that the professor was gone. She wasn’t happy about Edison putting Summer in charge, but the Rules of Succession were clear.
So was her duty to fulfill her pledge to the old man, even if anointing Summer as Nirvana’s new leader went against all known logic in the universe.
Krista hopped out of the truck, realizing her job as Security Chief was about to challenge her in ways she never expected—all of it propelled by an emotional young girl with no experience as a leader.
Fletcher took a step forward, meeting Krista with his chest out. She did the same, then craned her neck up to make eye contact—man-to-man, so to speak.
The last time they’d taken the same stance in front of each other, the two of them were about to go to war in Heston’s meeting room.
She put a hand out. “I never thought I’d say this, but it’s been an honor working with you, Fletcher.”
Fletcher grabbed her hand. “Likewise. I’ve stood in battle with my share of warriors, but none braver.”
“Or more stubborn,” Dice added, his face under the control of a full grin.
Krista laughed, though it was forced with the anguish of the day still smothering her heart. The professor. Her men. So much loss. Yet, Summer needed a role model to follow, one that wouldn’t show weakness, despite all the death. Otherwise, Nirvana had zero chance to succeed now that Edison was dead. “We are who we are. Those that can, step up.”
“Roger that,” Fletcher said.
Krista let go of Fletcher’s hand and shook Dice’s as well, then looked around before she brought her eyes back to the rugged black man. “We’ve got a long road ahead of us. Hopefully, we can continue to work together, like today.”
“Leave everything in the past,” he replied, his tone confident.
“A new beginning,” Dice added.
Fletcher nodded. “First up, we’ll need to figure out a replacement for the Trading Post.”
“What’s left of it,” Dice added with a sneer on his mug.
Krista agreed with Dice’s terse assessment. “We’ve both got a lot of dead to bury.”
“And notify everyone back home about what happened,” Summer said, wiping the tears from her face, her tone no longer filled with grief. At least, not entirely.
Krista was impressed with the new leader’s sudden shift, though the girl had no idea how difficult the task would be. “You need to prepare yourself, Summer. There will be a lot of questions. Some of them won’t be easy.”
“You’ll help walk me through it, right?”
“Sure,” Krista answered, knowing what was coming. Casualty notifications are never easy. More so, when it’s about the leader of a team.
“Need to start thinking about a complete rebuild, too,” Dice said. “Probably fortify a few things while we’re at it.”
Fletcher scanned the area with his eyes for a few seconds. “Agreed.”
“I’ll bring a team back to collect our men as soon as I can,” Krista said. “I’m sure we can spare a few to help with the cleanup efforts, too.”
Fletcher nodded.
“Hey, wait a minute,” Summer snapped. “I should be the one making these decisions. Edison put me in charge, Krista. Not you.”
“You’re right. My mistake,” Krista said after a pause. It wasn’t going to be easy keeping her take-charge self in check. Or taking orders from this grubby-faced youngster.
The tense look on Summer’s face vanished. “We should ask for volunteers to help guard the Trading Post. Once it’s cleaned up and all.”
Fletcher looked at Krista, then back at Summer. “Some from each camp?”
“That’s what I was thinking. Seems fair.” Summer changed her focus to Krista. “Anything else?”
Krista looked at Fletcher. “Maybe next month you can bring some more of that Scab Repellent. I know we could use it.”
“I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Speaking of fair,” Summer said to Krista, “we should probably replace the supplies that the Nomad stole. You know, live up to our end of the deal. The professor would have wanted it that way.” She looked at Fletcher. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare needs list, would you?”
“No. Frost took care of that personally. But I’m sure I can work up a new one. How’s a week from today sound? Give me a chance to settle in first. See what’s what?”
“High noon?”
“That’ll work,” Fletcher said in that deep voice of his.
A subtle grin took over Summer’s face. “I’ll make sure Krista is here with bells on. Right Krista?”
Krista nodded, but didn’t appreciate Summer’s showboating—apparently at her expense. She’d just earned Fletcher’s respect and now this snot-nosed girl was rubbing it in. It was all she could do to stop the eruption of harshness lining up in her throat.
It took every ounce of her self-control, but she managed to flush the anger, then replace the words with a response more fitting to her new role as Summer’s bitch. “You ready to head back, boss?”
“Yeah, just take it easy,” Summer said, leaning forward to give the dog a gentle hug. “I don’t want anything to happen to our new friend.”
Or anyone else, Krista thought to herself, thinking of all the possible threats still ahead of them. There were so many unknowns. So many possible outcomes.
She’d studied the Nirvana Code of Conduct well, but wasn’t sure what the Rules of Succession would be if a newly-minted leader didn’t have time to appoint someone new before her sudden and unexpected demise on the way back to the silo.
In truth, there were a million ways to die in a world like this. More so while traveling across an unsecured area with minimal firepower or backup.
Or witnesses.
Everyone knew that losses could occur on any mission and at any time. Some couldn’t be helped, even if they happened to a popular young girl who was just anointed as the chosen one and entrusted with the lives of many.
TO BE CONTINUED in
Silo: Hope’s Return
Book 2
Frozen World Series
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