“Oh, fuck, Cam,” Cal shouted. He rolled the sergeant onto his back, tore his own shirt off, and pressed it into the gushing wound.
“So… cold…”
“Fuck, stay with me, Cam!”
Drisko’s eyes rolled back to attention, and he coughed. “Get out… get out of here. Leave me,” he choked through a glob of blood that stained his teeth red. One hand rose to his chest, and he pressed the Beretta into Cal’s grasp. “Go.”
Cal shook his head vehemently. His vision blurred from tears, and a lump in his throat kept him from uttering a sound. He cast the weapon aside and doubled his efforts to stop the bleeding, even as he fought back both rage and anguish. The gunfire subsided, and shouts, screams, and warnings from across the battlefield could be heard. Cal drowned them out; his singular focus was on comforting his friend and tending to the wound. But the injury was too serious, and Cameron expired after a couple minutes of wheezing and gagging.
“No,” he sobbed as he shook Cameron’s limp shoulders in disbelief. Tears welled up in uncontrolled torrents and he began to sob softly.
No. No, no… fuck… no! Why?
He wiped his eyes as a moment of numbing calm washed over him. Cal looked over his shoulder as he slowly rose and wiped Cameron’s blood off on his shirt as he surveyed the scene. Those who had been caught in the open or taken cover had gained their feet, and were carefully picking their way away from the carnage.
Lieutenant Reid lay in the arms of a slender, raven-haired woman, his bindings still fast around his wrists. The woman wailed as she held his lifeless body against her, and another woman clutched the first from behind, also in tears. Colonel Eriksen writhed in the green grass a few feet away, staining the verdant blades with his blood. Garza and Marks sat on their knees next to Gabriel’s commander with fingers interlaced behind their heads in surrender. The red-headed hulk, Quinn, hobbled behind them, training his rifle alternately between the two men, while occasionally glancing at Eriksen.
Cal stumbled his way to the boulder and clamored to its top, still reeling from the shock of the sights that he took in. Darius Owens squatted in the grass, rubbing his massive hands – one of which clutched a pistol – over his shaven, ebony scalp. He made eye contact with no one. Major Kintney’s body lay in repose within arm’s reach of Owens, staring blankly out into nothingness through dead eyes. Three holes in his flight suit, ringed in drying blood, testified to his demise. A few brave souls moved from person to person, checking wounds and tearing clothing to serve as impromptu bandages.
Cal glanced back at his slain friend again, and in an instant the calm that held him together was washed away as his rage boiled over. He shouted an obscenity at the top of his lungs and kicked a foot over the top of the boulder. The outburst garnered the attention of several around him, and even Darius glanced up to find the source of the disturbance.
“What the fuck is wrong with all of you?” he screamed. He clutched his blond hair, marring it with the blood of his fallen friend. “He’s dead. My friend… he’s dead, because of all of you. Because you couldn’t figure out how to handle your shit without it coming to this.”
Cal watched as Darius rose slowly, looking down at the weapon in his trembling hands. His fingers splayed outward as he looked down at them, and the Beretta slipped from his grip, tumbling to the ground. Marks and Garza regarded him, captivated, and Quinn lowered his rifle, hesitating for only a moment.
“Whatever this stupid quarrel is, I don’t get it. I don’t get why that man,” he continued, leveling his index finger squarely at Colonel Eriksen, “couldn’t have just followed the plan and landed on the north side of the river with us. He had agreed to it, and then broke off at the last minute. Cameron. Oh, God, Cam.” His voice began to waver, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Cal took a moment to regain composure. “He told me once that the three commanding officers had some sort of feud back on Earth. After Raphael blew up, Colonel Dayton tried to put all that aside and make amends, and look what happened.
“I’m just a kid from Texas. I don’t really know what any of this shit is about. I don’t care what any of it is about either, and neither should any of you. All I know is that none of us can survive on this planet alone, and that we’re only going to pull through if we work together. That’s why Cam and I came today; to try and help put aside whatever differences tore the two crews apart. And here we find that you can’t even keep your own crew in one piece.”
Cal looked down at Cameron. He began to feel hatred for the colonists on this side of the river, and how they could possibly be this indifferent as to who led them that such a situation could possibly arise. He choked back more tears as he turned once more to the slowly gathering crowd of survivors.
“Was it really worth my friend’s life for you to figure out that you have a problem?” His eyes shot skyward and he laughed nervously. “God, none of you here are fit to lead anything. No one took action until it was too late.” Then Cal leveled his gaze at Darius. “Except for him. He knew something was wrong. And when you all failed him, he did something about it. He came to us for help. You should listen to him. He gets it.”
Cal regarded the anonymous crowd coldly before sliding down the far side of the rock. He returned to his friend’s body and knelt beside him, drawing his eyelids closed with two fingers.
“I hate that I have to say this,” he whispered, “but I can’t thank you enough. You… you saved my life. I don’t know what I did to deserve that, not after I dragged you out here.” Cal picked up the Beretta from the ground and engaged the safety, then tucked it under Cameron’s hands as he folded them over his chest. He sighed, and finally let the sorrow pour from within him.
I should have listened to you. I should have let these people rot. Then you’d still be here, and they’d have gotten what they deserved.
Cal felt a heavy hand fall gently across his shoulder. He wiped the tears from his eyes and glanced over to see Darius Owens kneel next to him. The man’s deep brown eyes were full of sorrow, and he nodded once.
“I’m very sorry, Calvin,” he spoke softly. Cal nodded and continued to grieve as the colonists slowly filtered their way back home.
Gabrielle Serrano
29 April, Year of Landing, late afternoon
Camp Eight
Emilia ticked off the seconds in silence as she held her patient’s wrist between her fingers. Gabi’s mother ran her free hand through her tangled black hair, waiting for the nurse to finish the task. Gabi watched with impatience, rubbing the pale patch of her arm that had been removed from its cast earlier in the day. She eyed Emilia as she tended to her mother.
Nearly every day either the nurse or Dr. Petrovsky would check on her mom, and then they would talk for a while. She didn’t always understand what they were talking about, and often drifted in and out of the conversation as she tried to find ways to amuse herself. Other times she would tune in and listen as long as she could before boredom sat in. This usually happened when they were talking about her friend Haruka. Today’s conversation was on a much more boring subject, and Gabi found herself hard pressed to occupy her time.
Why isn’t Mama done yet?
“Mama, I’m bored.”
Gabi threw her arms across her chest and curled her lip into a pout. Her mother regarded her with a terse, blank glance over the shoulder.
“Not now, Mija.” She went back to her hushed conversation with Emilia.
“But you promised,” Gabi whined.
Her mother snapped back, “I said not now.”
The stern glower that stared back at Gabi cut into her, mixing fear and deep disappointment. Her lip began to tremble, and a feeble cry rose up from inside her. She turned away and dropped onto her lumpy bed of leaves, burying her face in the verdant weave. Her sorrowful wail grew in volume as she unleashed her tears.
Gabi waited for her mom to comfort her. The warm, soft touch that silenced the fearful questions within was all she wanted. She cast hopeful glances at her
mother as she sobbed, but got no reaction; only Emilia paid her any mind. The nurse glanced up every time Gabi unburied her face to look, and after a few minutes, came over to her.
Emilia curled her arm around Gabi’s shoulder and knelt next to her on the bed. “Gabi, honey, can you play by yourself for a few more minutes? I’m almost done with your mom.”
“But Mama promised she’d play a game with me!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Emilia flashed a kind smile, but Gabi knew that this particular smile was one that Emilia used when she was trying to change the subject. “It’ll be just a moment.”
Gabi jerked her shoulder free from the embrace and bolted to her feet. She lashed her hand out as she pulled away, raking a weak slap across Emilia’s face. Emilia’s eyes and jaw widened in shock and horror.
“Leave me alone. I hate you,” she blurted. In an instant, Gabi’s mom rose up and spun to face her.
“Gabi!” she shouted, covering the ground between them before Gabi could do any more than flinch. Her mother’s face was disfigured with anger, and Gabi realized too late the degree to which she had upset her mom.
One arm arced high and swung downward, connecting with Gabi’s behind with a muffled smack. The sharp pain was followed almost immediately by another blow by her mother’s hand, and she burst out crying again, half from terror and half from pain.
“Mama, stop!” she howled.
“You don’t hit people like that, Mija!” The words spilled from her mother’s mouth even as she brought her hand down on Gabi’s bottom a third time.
“Maria, stop.” Emilia grabbed Gabi’s mom by the arm and gently pushed her back two steps.
With her assailant out of arm’s reach, Gabi wheeled around and darted toward the exit from the clinic.
“You get back here, right now!” her mother snarled. “Gabi!”
She didn’t slow down, and nearly tumbled to the ground as she hit the storm curtain and spilled forth into the street. Gabi staggered and rubbed her tear-blurred eyes as she took a moment to adjust to the light of day. She could still hear her mother cursing and yelling at her to return to the clinic, and her voice grew louder. Gabi knew it would be only a moment before her mom burst through the curtain after her.
In a moment of panic, she ran. She didn’t pick a direction; she followed where her feet carried her. Gabi streaked past the entrance to the Palm Palace and crashed headlong into the jungle foliage beyond the edge of the village. As she stumbled through the undergrowth beneath a wide vinewood, she took a bad step, and tumbled about ten feet down the side of the hill, landing on her back in a thick tuft of long-bladed grass.
Gabi could hear her mom’s voice echo from far in the distance, calling her back. Though the message was nearly drowned out by the rustling of the grass and the leaves above, the anger was still clear. Gabi climbed to her feet and brushed a couple impacted clumps of dirt from her already filthy clothing, then took a short look around to find something familiar in the landscape. She found the ivory sands of the beach in the distance, in a gap where trees had been cleared by tall men with big axes.
She took one glance up the hill before carefully parting grass with her hands and stepping over gnarled roots. Her nerves tingled as she moved forward, unsure if she would be able to find her way to the beach as it slipped in and out of view. She picked her way around the shoulder of the heights and found the path that ran between the village and the beach. With a grin and a sigh of relief, she began the trek down to the shore.
However, her relief was short-lived. She could hear her mother’s voice coming from up the hill, arguing loudly with someone about what she would do to Gabi once she found her. The other voice was Haruka’s, but Gabi could not hear what she said. All that was certain was that her mom was furious with both Gabi and Haruka. She did not want to feel any more of her mother’s wrath, so she ran as quickly as she could away from the village.
Minutes later she reached the beach. Many other children played in the warm sunshine, including the older kids; their schooling for the day was over. Games of tag unfolded over the broad beach, and several boys playfully fought with sticks. The clacking noises reminded Gabi of the beating she had received at the hands of Marya weeks earlier. Her skin shivered despite the sun, and the urge to play with the others quickly passed. Instead she headed for the river mouth, where a variety of fish and animals could be found.
While still in the open, Gabi found this place to be secluded. None of the other children were present, and the village fishing boats worked far off shore at this time of day. She found a low, wide boulder jutting out from the sand, and crawled on top of it in search of the tide pools that she knew would be on this particular rock, filling the wide bowls etched in its top by nature.
The pools were indeed present, and she sat at the edge of one, watching a pair of three-inch crabs fighting over a tiny fish that drifted belly-up at the surface. They danced and skittered under the surface, jabbing at each other with their long, jagged claws, and a pair of pointed leg-like appendages under their shells that Earth crabs did not have.
“I want this one to win,” she said to herself softly as she locked her eyes on the one that had a long, purple strip along the ridge of its shell.
As the fight over their meal continued, it looked to Gabi as if her champion would lose. She looked around and quickly found a narrow piece of driftwood about five inches in length. She retrieved it, and jabbed it weakly at the other crab. It snapped a claw and caught the wood in the blink of an eye. Gabi squealed and jerked back, flinging the wood – and the attached crab – several feet down the beach. Her chosen crustacean took full advantage of its adversary’s disappearance, and proceeded to eat the prize it claimed.
She smiled, satisfied with the results of her intervention. Slipping from the rock, she padded over to where the stick lay in the sand. The tiny crab, despite being half as long as the piece of wood, raised its pincers and spike-legs at Gabi as she approached. It lunged, surprising her, and forced her to leap to her left. She snatched the wood from the sand, which gave the creature a chance to strike.
Gabi screeched as one of the spike-legs punctured the skin on the back of her hand. She yanked it back, sending the crab spinning into the sand nearby, and sending shooting pains up her arm. Blood slowly seeped to the surface of her skin. She looked down and clutched at it, fighting back the urge to cry. Something else welled within her – something dark – and she was unable to control both emotions at the same time.
She brought the small stick down on top of the crab, hitting its shell soundly. It backed up and raised all four of its weapons. Gabi swung again, and this time the small crustacean wrapped a pincer around the wood.
“Let go!” she shouted at it, and pulled hard.
The stick wrenched free of the crab’s grip, so she then jabbed at it. It danced back side to side with its many legs. Its tiny appendages splayed out in front as if its increased size and threatening posture would deter its attacker. Instead Gabi intensified her thrusting assaults, and inch by inch started to back the animal toward the sea. She was vaguely aware of someone talking to her as she worked, but her singular focus was on making the crab pay for stabbing her. The defense that the miniscule beast put up was beginning to irritate her, and she decided to take another heavy swing from above. This time the crab could not deflect the blow in time, and she crushed one of its pincer arms.
There was a brief moment of satisfaction as she watched it struggle to scurry away with the useless appendage hanging limply at its side. Then a harsh voice snapped her attention away from the hapless crustacean.
“I said leave it alone!” Marya repeated as she took two steps closer to Gabi, putting herself between Gabi and her victim. When she stopped, she deliberately flicked sand at Gabi with her toes. Gabi turned her face to keep the abrasive grains from getting in her eyes and mouth, and felt them rake her arm, hair, and ear.
Memories flooded through her mind in an instant as Gabi recalled the b
eating that the older girl had delivered to her weeks earlier. She felt a twinge of fear that Marya would come after her again. Gabi rose to her feet with her head lowered.
“Why did you hurt that poor thing?” Marya berated. “That was really mean.”
Gabi’s head slowly rose, and she took in the snarl that the older girl had on her lips. Marya’s glare was piercing, striking fear anew in Gabi’s heart.
She’s going to hit me again.
Gabi could feel her muscles tense and her hands ball up. Her breathing shallowed, and rage began to build up, mixing with the fear. The furious beating of her heart and the tingling of her nerves scared and confused Gabi. Then the fear flushed all at once, and Gabi lunged at Marya, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Before she bowled into the older girl, Gabi could see her eyes widen in shock. Marya splashed into the surf on her back, and Gabi landed right on top. She straddled Marya’s chest and began hitting her over and over again, all while uttering a sound that was half a scream and half a cry.
“Leave. Me. Alone!” she bellowed as she drove her fists into Marya, who flung her arms up over her face in defense. A wave washed in, drenching both of the girls. Marya bucked and thrashed, but Gabi did not relent. “Don’t touch me again!”
Her fists rained down on Marya. Another wave rushed in, more powerful than the last, which submerged Marya’s face. Gabi had to pause for a second to gain her balance, and in that moment, Marya threw her arms out and tried to push against Gabi. One hand pressed into her face, further enraging her. Without a thought, she clamped down on one of the offending fingers with her teeth. Marya started to scream, but it ended up as more of a cough as a third wave slammed them and again covered the older girl from head to toe.
Gabi slapped away the hands that clawed at her from below and raised her fist to deliver another blow, but then found herself lifted up and away from her victim by a strong set of arms.
Project Columbus: Omnibus Page 79
