Colonel Jackson and four other soldiers were behind a hastily-erected canvas barrier, in a small wooded area. Langan could just distinguish a small figure huddled against the wheel of a Jeep. A Marine grabbed the figure roughly by the arm and dragged it across the grass.
“Who the hell are you?” Jackson demanded. “Get the hell out of―” He froze when his gaze fell on Langan. “This is none of your business!” he shouted.
Langan stepped forward as Dawn raced past Jackson up to the soldier holding the creature.
“Let go! You’re hurting him,” Dawn yelled.
Even though the bear-like figure towered over Dawn at six foot four inches and 250 pounds, something inside told Langan there would be only one winner if the Marine were foolish enough to argue.
The ‘bear’ grabbed the creature’s neck, “I’m gonna hurt him some more”
Dawn’s first kick to the outside of his left knee caused the ‘bear’ to stumble. The speed, power, and sheer grace of her next kick stunned Langan. It caught the ’bear’ under the chin, rocked his head back and broke his grip on the creature. The burly Marine’s arms flailed wildly for a second as he staggered backwards. Dawn grabbed his bayonet from its scabbard and raised it high above her head. For a moment Langan feared for the man’s life as she swung it in an arc, the blade glinting menacingly. In one graceful movement Dawn pulled the creature gently away, sliced through his bonds, and kicked the ‘bear’ in the chest.
Jackson and the other troops stared in stunned silence as the big Marine toppled over and landed with a resounding crash that shook the earth and threw up a small dust cloud from the parched soil.
Dawn bent down, tenderly embraced the creature, and raised her head to yell, “Get him some blankets and water. Quickly!”
Soldiers raised their rifles and ordered Dawn to leave the creature, but she ignored them. One stepped forward to manhandle her away, but stopped abruptly on feeling the tip of the bayonet pushed firmly into his crotch. Dawn never diverted her attention from the alien.
A soldier cocked his rifle, pointed it menacingly at Dawn’s head, and yelled. “Step away from the prisoner, ma’am.”
Dawn hugged the creature and whispered gently, “Nobody’s going to hurt you. I promise.”
“Last warning lady, step away from―”
“Stand down!” ordered Jackson. He nearly choked on his next sentence. “The F.B.I. is in charge now,” he spat, fixing Langan with a look of pure malice.
Langan stepped towards Dawn and tried to focus his eyes in the dark. He blinked twice then refocused to make sure they were not playing tricks on him.
“Where is he”? Dawn anxiously asked the creature. “You’ve got to tell me.”
Langan stared in amazement at the creature she was holding. Even Groves’s garbled description had not prepared him for this. He shuddered, wondering how Dawn could hold the cold and clammy-looking, slate grey skin so closely, almost tenderly.
“You’ve got to tell me where he is, please,” Dawn pleaded again.
“What the hell’s going on, Dawn?” Langan barked.
“There’s a boy trapped in the wreckage,” Dawn told him.
“How do you know?” Langan asked.
“He’s just told me.” She stood up and pointed to a sergeant and then to the creature. “You make sure he gets well treated.” The look on the sergeant’s face told Langan that he understood the threat.
“How did he tell you when no one else heard him?” Langan stammered. “His lips never―”
“We need to get the boy out of the wreckage,” Dawn interrupted. She raced towards a Jeep, and yelled out to the driver, “Give me the keys.”
“They’re in the ignition.”
“Thanks.” She flung the door open.
Langan banged on the back window as he raced to the other side of the vehicle.
The engine fired and Langan grabbed the door handle as the vehicle leapt forward. Langan hammered on the side window and shouted above the noise of the Jeep, “You bleeding wait for me.”
The Jeep slowed, Langan leapt in and clung on desperately as it sped away, his door swinging wildly.
The horn blared, troops dived for cover either side. A soldier gave Dawn the one finger salute. The door knocked him flat.
Langan, horrified, caught the door, slammed it shut. “What the hell are―”
The Jeep lurched down left, and threw Langan against Dawn. The front end reared up and the engine faded. Dawn floored the throttle, the gearbox shrieked in protest before she managed to slam the lever into a lower gear.
Langan pulled himself upright. “Let it roll back a bit. Pull out left where it’s flatter.”
She turned hard left, kept moving. Langan clung on to the dash. Slowly, the Jeep struggled to more level ground.
“Keep it steady.” He grabbed her hand, prevented her moving up a gear. “You won’t rescue anybody if you turn this over.”
She pulled her hand loose, clutched the wheel tightly, and eased off the gas.
Langan hastily put his seat belt on. “So that bastard left a young boy to burn alive.”
“There’s little danger of that ship going up in flames―” Dawn was thrown against the steering wheel.
“Jesus Christ!” Langan was barely able to stop his head hitting the screen. “’Scuse me! An engine’s blown off and the resulting fuel leak doesn’t erupt in a fireball.”
Dawn said, “think of an aircraft carrier with millions of gallons of jet fuel on board.” The Jeep lurched forward. “If that lot ignites at least the crew can leap overboard.”
Langan nodded.
She continued. “But, they can’t possibly carry volatile fuels on board a spaceship.”
“So you’re saying they would have two inert liquids, a bit like some binary chemical weapons?” Langan asked.
“Exactly,” Dawn replied. “So the only fire at the scene would be from the missile that hit the spacecraft.”
“So what if the fire spreads to the fuel tank?” Langan queried.
“Neither chemical will be flammable,” Dawn explained. “The greatest risk of an explosion is ignition of any mixture already in the injection chambers.”
“So you’re confident that it’s perfectly safe?” Langan demanded.
“It’s possible some other substances could cause a reaction, but certainly not just a naked flame,” Dawn confirmed.
“I can see you’ve been doing your homework,” Langan said admiringly.
Fire trucks blocked the way of the Jeep so Dawn leapt out of the still-moving vehicle. She dashed past the appliances, and through the labyrinth of hoses strewn on the ground. Langan yelled out to her in vain, his voice totally inaudible over the whirr of water jet pumps, sirens, klaxons, and helicopters.
Dawn dodged nimbly among the fire crew and vehicles, from patches of bright lights through hazy swirling flashes and pulses of blue, red, and amber fading into patches of total blackness. She bumped into several startled fire crewmen, shrugged off the knocks and aimed ever forward to the flickering flames and the black silhouette that beckoned her.
Dawn darted between two moving vehicles but didn’t see the hose sprawled across the grass. She stumbled forward, her left foot hooked on the hose, and crashed, face first, to the ground. For a moment, she lay there winded, unable to move. Then she felt somebody grab her left arm and lift her firmly and gently.
“Are you alright?” asked a woman’s voice. Another hand grabbed her right elbow, helped Dawn to stand, and steadied her as she swayed twice. “Let’s get you back to the ambulance.”
“No!” Dawn pulled away. “I’ve got to get the boy out of the ship.” The woman reached out to her again but Dawn shrugged her off and hobbled towards the spacecraft.
The woman followed and yelled for Dawn to stop. Hampered by her heavy protective clothing she called command on her headset. “Chief, this is Gould. I’ve got a crazy woman running towards the craft yelling something about a boy trapped inside.”
“Confirm th
at,” replied Fire Chief Pat O'Malley. “I’m on my way now with a rescue team.”
“Is this for real?” gasped Gould panting under the exertion of running.
A Jeep pulled alongside Gould. “Hey! You want a lift?” the driver yelled.
She turned toward him. “Yeah! Sure thing,” she replied gratefully, gasping to get her breath.
The area immediately surrounding the craft had been churned up by the vehicles. The heavily- laden fire crews had made deep foot holes that immediately filled with water, making the ground hazardous under foot. Every step over the last ten yards required a great effort. The mud squished and oozed over the top of Dawn’s feet. As she stumbled through the cloying ground her left shoe fell victim to the clinging mud. Dawn leaned against the Jeep as it pulled up alongside her, tore off her right shoe, cursed, and flung it away.
“You go back. We’ll look after this,” Gould told her.
Chapter Three
The Rescue
Destiny's Daughter Page 3
