“Yes,” Barbara said in a friendly voice. “Wawa.” She knelt by him and set her pack down, then fished inside and came out with an ear thermometer. “Temperature?” she asked, holding it up before him. “Can I take your temperature? I have to touch your ear.”
“Wawa,” the man said, and smiled again. He leaned forward, but slowly, not aggressively. Alex’s finger tightened up on the trigger slightly.
Barbara reached out to him and put the thermometer into his ear. He turned his head to follow it with his eyes, and Alex cringed at how close his mouth was to her forearm. How close his teeth were. Alex was so tense he could barely stand it.
Barbara turned the man’s head with her free hand and inserted the thermometer in his ear. After a few seconds, there was a beep.
“Ninety nine point one,” she said, looking at the display. “Slight fever.”
“Wawa,” the man said, still smiling.
“I’m not going to cut open his head to confirm it,” Barbara said as she took some more things out of her pack. “But I’d bet he has the same type of random brain damage the woman had, though obviously it’s not so much his behavior as his mental acuity that is affected.”
“What do we do with him?” Alex asked. “You’re the doctor, it’s your call.”
Barbara didn’t answer right away. She pulled down on his jaw and looked inside his mouth with a type of instrument Alex remembered from hospital exam rooms, a magnifying scope with a built in flashlight.
“We take him with us,” she said. “What else can we do? We can’t leave him here. He’ll die on his own.”
“You don’t think he could be dangerous?”
Barbara shook her head. “I mean…anything is possible, but I see nothing to indicate any aggression on his part.”
“Fine, but you’ll have to clean him up. Tom, you and Barbara stay here and watch our new buddy ‘Wawa.’ The rest of you, follow me, we’re going to look inside.”
The complex turned out to be some kind of art school, and much of that art was spared the destruction that claimed almost everything else. Finding nothing of interest, they regrouped and headed back to the beach, where Barbara stripped down and took Wawa into the water to clean him. He had proven extremely cooperative, doing everything she wanted him to do, as long as she gestured and shoved him along. He didn’t seem to be able to understand anything she said to him but he did comprehend basic hand gestures.
When she pulled down his pants Alex almost lost his breakfast. Turning away, he tried to think about anything other than what he had just seen.
“Oh man,” Tom said, cringing. “That’s nasty!”
The sun was already well above the horizon. They had lost a couple of hours of daylight and he had no idea how long it would take Barbara to finish her business. On top of that, having Wawa with them would slow them down considerably.
“This is costing us too much time,” Alex said. “I’m going to split us up. Barbara, you stay here with Patrick and Yael. Guys, I’m counting on you to keep the doc safe. Yael, you’re the closest thing I have to a soldier, so you’re in command. Don’t let anyone do anything stupid, and at the first sign of trouble, get on the boat and head out to sea.”
“I will,” she said. He couldn’t read the look she gave him, but he thought it might be surprise.
“Tom, Ryan, Sandi,” he said. “You’re with me. We’re going to forget about the buildings and head up into the mountain.” He turned to Yael. “We should be back by sundown. If not, get on the boat. Give us a couple of hours, then head back home. Got it?”
“You want me to just leave you?” She didn’t look happy. “I can’t do that.”
“If we’re able, we’ll be back. If we’re not, it means we’re dead. Okay?”
She frowned, but nodded. “Okay.”
Alex and his group set off across the ruins of the city and were at the base of the nearest mountain in just over half an hour. The boundary between the mostly open clearing left by the city’s destruction and the surrounding jungle was strangely abrupt, as though whatever force annihilated Honolulu had not existed beyond the city’s borders. Trees and bushes stood completely unharmed, though all those on the outskirts of the jungle were covered by a thick layer of dust. He could hear bird songs and other jungle sounds. Apparently the island’s animal life had been similarly spared the fate of its humans.
“Let’s move along the perimeter,” he said. “Look for a trail or something, a way for people to get up and out of the city.”
“What about that over there?” Tom said and pointed. A dirt road split the tree line not far to their right, close to what used to be a cul-de-sac of upscale homes, now reduced to a pile of roof tiles and timbers.
“That’ll do.”
They started along the road, walking in a staggered single file formation and looking out for signs of human passage. Ryan took point and Alex covered the rear, keeping an eye out in all directions. The absence of buildings opened a wide path for the wind, which had carried assorted detritus and rubbish well into the path’s first few hundred yards. After that, Alex kept a close eye out for telltale signs that a large number of people had passed this way. One of the types of training conducted by the OPFOR was how to deal with indigenous populations, and because of the constant political and religious turmoil in the current conflict regions, part of that training covered refugees. People tended to take more than they needed when they first set out, then, burdened by unnecessary weight, discarded much of it along the way in predictable patterns. Alex saw no sign of that. What little garbage remained seemed to be random.
The road ended abruptly at another destroyed house. The jungle wasn’t particularly thick, but making progress would be a lot tougher now. Alex looked around, trying to figure out which was the best route to higher elevations. Then Ryan’s shoulder exploded.
Blood sprayed on Alex’s face and neck and he felt its warmth as it oozed down his shirt. The crack of the gunshot came an instant later. Another crack sounded, then another.
Chapter 16
Alex was moving before he realized what he was doing. He headed for the pile of lumber and roofing tiles. The others stood frozen, staring at Ryan.
“Take cover!” he shouted. “Move!” Tom was the first to react, following Alex, then Sandi ran into the trees in the direction from which they came. Ryan was lying on the road, kicking his feet.
“What the fuck!” Tom shouted, holding his rifle awkwardly. Alex scanned the trees up ahead, but saw nothing. He calculated where the shot had come from based on where Ryan had been standing, then flicked his rifle’s selector switch to auto and fired a long burst into the trees. The familiar sound of his weapon cleared his head even as its roar clogged his ears, and he pushed Tom’s head down behind the pile of roof tiles as he continued to look for signs of their attackers. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Sandi taking cover behind a tree. She wasn’t shooting, but she didn’t seem to be panicking either.
“Sandi, get Ryan!” he shouted. “Drag him behind cover! Do it now!” He turned back to the tree line just in time to see them.
Movement. In the trees, just past a large gray boulder. There were two of them, and they were moving to the rock for cover. Alex switched his rifle to semi, aimed, and fired a string of shots at one of the moving targets, leading him just a little. One of the attackers dropped. The other one paused, but moved behind the rock before Alex had a chance to take him down. Tom was clutching his ears, his rifle discarded on the ground by his side.
Alex dropped his magazine, probably less than half full, then pulled a fresh one from his chest rig and slammed it into place. He grabbed a hand grenade with his left hand and pulled the pin without taking his right off the weapon.
He fired a few rounds then got to his feet. The hand holding the grenade supported the front of the weapon as he fired again and again at the boulder, forcing the man behind it to stay down. Advancing to the edge of the debris, he took cover behind a tree and tossed the grena
de over the rock. The safety lever popped off with a click and he watched the grenade tumble through the air and disappear behind the edge of the boulder.
A white flash and thunderous crack happened almost simultaneously, followed by a puff of white smoke that drifted further into the jungle, pushed by what little of the ocean’s wind survived this far past the trees.
He waited, looking around for movement, but didn’t see anything. He got up and started moving towards the boulder, weapon ready. Circling around the left side, he saw the man who had made it to cover. His body was a shredded mess, but Alex could tell by his clothing that he wasn’t a soldier. Blue jeans, dark button shirt. His weapon was an old military rifle, probably a Garand. The other man, lying just past the boulder, had been hit twice, once in the head. He also wore jeans, but with a black t-shirt. A scoped bolt action rifle lay a few feet away from him.
There was no sign of anyone else, so Alex ran back to Ryan. The kid was lying on his back, still kicking. Sandi was on her knees by his side, hovering over him uncertainly. Alex reached under Ryan and pulled him behind the debris pile, then knelt over him, looking at his shoulder. Tom retrieved his rifle and ran over, staring at Ryan’s shoulder, his face pale.
“Stay low!” Alex shouted.
Ryan was alive and conscious. His eyes were wild, shifting back and forth. His hands and feet were twitching, kicking, shaking. Thick blood welled from the hole in his left shoulder, but it flowed slowly, which meant the artery had been spared. Alex took his knife and cut away at the chest rig and shirt near the wound on both sides. He then took his first aid kit, tore open the QuickClot pouch and stuffed the gauze into the wound.
“Sandi,” Alex shouted. “Help me.” Her eyes widened, but she moved closer.
“Hold this in place,” Alex said. Sandi put a hand over the bunched up QuickClot while Alex turned Ryan on his side and tied it in place with a field dressing, looping it around his neck and armpit. Using the contents of Ryan’s first aid kit, he secured the exit wound on his back in the same manner. Some dirt had gotten into the wound, but there wasn’t time to try and clean it. Barbara would have to take care of it later.
“Let’s move!” Alex shouted, then dropped his backpack, picked Ryan up and slung him over his shoulder. “Grab my pack, and get his weapon!” he said to Tom. “And get that spare magazine I dropped.”
Tom did as he was told and Alex began to run down the road back towards the city. “Sandi, let’s go!” She got up and followed him. “Keep an eye out behind us.”
In what seemed like seconds they were running across the open field of ruins. Ryan’s weight began to take its toll. Alex’s legs and back burned with the strain and his shoulder ached where some of Ryan’s gear was pressing into it painfully.
“Thank you, fucking Medlock,” Alex muttered as he ran. If it were not for the platoon sergeant’s nearly religious devotion to physical training, Alex would not have been able to move this fast or for this long carrying a 200lb load. He almost laughed. The idea of thanking Sergeant Medlock for anything was almost ludicrous, and yet there he was doing it.
He couldn’t risk looking over his shoulder, but if someone had been following them they would have opened fire by now. They were pretty much sitting ducks for anyone who wanted to shoot them from the other side of the city.
After a few minutes of running, Alex called a halt behind a pile of rubble. They found a pair of two-by-fours and tied them together to form a makeshift stretcher. Alex grabbed one end and Tom grabbed the other. Their pace was slow but steady, and before long they crossed the ruined city.
As they neared the beach Alex saw riflemen positioned in the trees and almost dropped Ryan before he realized they were his people. Yael must have heard the shooting and was covering their retreat. Good girl!
“Stay in position!” he shouted as he ran past. He saw Yael to his right, her weapon pointing straight out.
Barbara was on the beach with Wawa, and as soon as she saw them she ran to Alex and grabbed Ryan. Together they laid him on the sand.
“What happened?” she shouted, going for her backpack.
“No time,” Alex said. “Tom, help Barbara get Ryan in the boat.” He turned to those in the trees. “Fall back! Fall back to the boat. We’re getting out of here.”
Yael ran out onto the beach, Patrick just behind her. Ryan screamed as Barbara and Tom all but tossed him over the side of the boat. Tom jumped in with him, but Barbara went back for Wawa, who was looking around, confused and scared. Despite his near panicked state, the man allowed himself to be hustled towards the boat.
When they were all on board, Alex pushed it into the water and jumped in, heedless of wet boots. Barbara started the motors, then got it turned around and jerked the throttle hard. The boat lurched and climbed up on plane, speeding away from the beach. Alex watched for signs of pursuit, but saw nothing. Questions flooded his mind, but he knew he would probably never have answers.
*
The ride back to the colony was long and difficult. Alex had to pilot the boat while Barbara tended to Ryan and the others looked after Wawa and kept him from trying to climb over the side. Ocean conditions were significantly worse than the day before and maintaining thirty miles per hour was brutal. The boat hammered into each wave, hard enough to make Alex wonder how much pounding the hull could take.
After cleaning Ryan’s wound and applying a new dressing, Barbara announced that he needed surgery if he wanted to keep the use of his right arm. Alex decided to use some of their extra fuel by increasing speed to get him back to the colony as fast as possible, but the waves kept getting bigger and eventually he had to slow down to twenty miles per hour just to keep from breaking his teeth with every impact. Barbara assured him he was doing fine, but piloting the boat was one of the most stressful things he had ever done. All of their lives depended on that glorified fiberglass tub, and one mistake at the helm could break it in half. That was a lot of pressure to put on someone behind the controls for the first time in his life.
One hour into the ride, just as they were leaving sight of Oahu’s coast, it started to rain. There was a roof over the center console, but it was small and could only fit two of them comfortably with two more pressed up behind them and partially exposed. However miserable everyone was before the rain, they were now that much more so.
No one was particularly talkative, though Alex could hardly blame them. Between the devastation of the city, the brain damaged survivors and getting shot at, there was a lot to think about. For Alex, the most pressing questions were related to the attack. Who were those people? How did they survive the destruction? Most importantly, why had they opened fire without provocation?
He thought about the fact that he had killed yet again, but surprisingly he had no regrets, not about killing those men. They attacked, they were the enemy, he had destroyed the enemy. It was all rather simple and impersonal, just like the few times he had done it in Afghanistan. He still couldn’t think about the insane woman without a pang of guilt and a sense of loss, but he had no such feelings for the two in the woods.
A sense of duality of time that had been plaguing him for the last few days followed him home to the colony. It seemed as though the trip took forever, and also that they were pulling up to the beach just moments after leaving Honolulu. The rain let up just as they approached the island and the sky cleared. The sun was shining and the waves died down to gentle swells.
“Max, this is Alex,” he said into the radio, and waited. There was nothing. “Alex to Max,” he said again.
“Yes Alex,” Max’s voice crackled through the radio’s tiny speaker. “Good to hear from you!”
“Lower the barrier, Max,” Alex said. “We’re coming in by boat, and we have wounded. Meet us on the beach.”
“Got it, Alex, the barrier is down.” At least that was what Alex thought he said—Max had released the talk button a bit too early.
“Say again? Confirm ‘barrier is down’?”
�
�Yes, Alex, it’s down, or as close as we can get it.”
“Understood.” He turned to Barbara and said, “You’d better take the helm for this.”
She nodded and took the wheel, guiding the boat onto the beach. For a moment, Alex worried that Max had lied about the barrier in an attempt to murder him and gain control of the arms room, but he dismissed it as paranoia.
There were more than a dozen people on the beach, standing and staring at the boat with hands over their eyes to shield them from the afternoon sun. More people were coming in from the colony. Alex saw something strange just past the patch of jungle that separated the main beach from the bit near the edge of the barrier—a pole with something tied to it.
“What the hell is that?” he asked. “Barbara, steer the boat that way a little, if you can. I want to check it out.”
“There are a lot of reefs here…ah, shit.” She swallowed hard as they passed through the barrier. The expected surge of nausea passed quickly. Alex once again wondered why they were not able to shut the barrier off completely. It seemed an unnecessary annoyance.
Barbara cleared her throat. “We might hit bottom. Even if I go straight in we might hit, but going along the beach is a bad idea.”
“Okay, never mind then,” he said. Although they wouldn’t really be able to use the boat much after this, he supposed it could come in handy and he should at least try to keep it in one piece. They had enough gas for some quick runs along the coast, and maybe enough to get to one of the closer islands and back.
The boat scraped something coming onto the sand, but it didn’t sound bad, and by that time Barbara had already cut and raised the outboards. Max was waiting for them, along with Reynard and Bob, who it seemed were his permanent entourage now. Alex frowned when he saw that they were wearing the pistols he had given them. He agreed it was necessary, but for some reason he didn’t like it. A large crowd was gathering behind Max, including the long haired loud mouth who hadn’t wanted to take no for an answer when Alex asked for volunteers.
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