by Reed, N. C.
“Corey, I hate to tell you this, buddy,” she said, “but unfortunately you and I have already crossed that particular boundary. You've been out for a good while.”
The teen's face went beet red at that information, but there were other concerns that he was having at the moment, and having her attend him at the moment was not a possibility.
“I'll just make my way over to the bathroom, thank you,” he told her, trying to maintain as much dignity as he could.
“You're not going anywhere for the next couple of days, slugger,” Kaitlin told him, shaking her head. “You had to have about a Smart Car's worth of shrapnel taken out of your chest and shoulders. You are down for a few days if not more. Hell, you're lucky not to be down permanently.”
“I... no,” he was shaking his head. “That... I appreciate... that is, while I can....”
“Corey, enough,” Kaitlin turned serious. “I'm a medical professional. I'm not doing anything for you that I haven't done for... hell, I don't know how many others, to be honest. And yes, I know what's bothering you, and it's okay. It's a natural reaction for a man to have when he wakes up. I won't be offended, and no one will hear of it unless you tell them. Now, let me help you before you wet the bed and we have to change the sheets.”
Surrendering to the inevitable because he was running out of time and options, Corey laid back and released his death grip on the sheets, allowing Kaitlin to help him. As they we finishing, Clay walked in, but waited until Kaitlin waved him over to come to Corey's bed side.
“How ya doing, buddy?”
“I've had much better days,” Corey told him, face still bright red. “How is everything?”
“Corey,” Clay sighed. “I don't know if you've heard, but if not... well, you deserve to hear it from me. During the battle yesterday, Kade... Kade was killed in action, Corey.”
Corey just looked at him, unblinking.
“Corey? Did you hear me?”
“I thought you said Kade was killed,” Corey's voice was dull.
“I did, Corey. I am so sorry, but he died during the battle.”
“Nah,” Corey shook his head. “No, that... nah,” he kept shaking his head. “Gotta be a mistake. I was talking to him just before the fight.”
“Corey, Kade died during the battle,” Clay repeated. “I know it seems impossible. It always does. But he's gone. I'm sorry.”
“What about the rest?” Corey asked, still clearly not believing what he'd been told.
“Gordy took a through and through in the shoulder,” Clay informed him. “Zach, Heath and Titus were uninjured. Shane damn near bled to death, but Tandi got there quick enough to get him fixed up.”
“I knew he was hit harder than he let on,” Corey nodded slowly.
“Other than that, Sienna got a face full of splinters and a fragment in her neck, and Stacy got shot in the leg.”
“I assume we won, at least,” Corey said. “Since we're having this discussion.”
“We did,” Clay assured him. “It cost us, but we did.”
“What... what about Kade?” the teen asked. “What are we... I mean....”
“That's up to you guys,” Clay told him. “You're his family since all this started, and you've all been friends most of your lives. I'll let the others know you're awake and you can all decide what to do. But it needs to be today.”
“Someone needs to let Olivia know,” Corey said absently.
“I already have,” Clay promised. He heard the door behind him open and turned to see Terri Hartwell standing just inside.
“Well, I better go,” he turned back to Corey. “Get some rest. I'll tell the others you've come around,” he repeated.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Corey's voice sounded hollow. Clay knew how he felt. But he didn't know how to fix it. If he did, he'd have fixed himself long ago.
-
Sienna didn't groan as she looked up to Jake Sidell's grinning face, but it took effort. A lot of effort.
“No fair,” she complained as he sat down, placing two trays of lunch on the table next to her. “I was hurt in the line of duty!”
“So was I, technically,” Jake smirked. “I talked to Patricia, and while you're going to be okay, it would be, and I quote, 'detrimental to your recovery to strain yourself',” he beamed as he held up a spoon full of some kind of soup. “With that in mind, I just naturally hurried right over here to spoon feed you your lunch!” He looked entirely too pleased with himself, and she decided to needle him just a bit.
“You going to give me a sponge bath later, too?” she smirked at him, noticing that it made her face hurt as it pulled on her stitched.
“Well if you need it, I guess I'd just have to, wouldn't I?” Jake never hesitated, laughing as her face turned almost fire engine red. She accepted the soup rather than have to think of a comeback.
“Now, let’s talk about situational awareness, while we're just sitting here,” Jake said as he dished up another spoonful of soup. “That means being aware of the situation you're in,” he winked suddenly, and she had to laugh at him.
“I've heard of it,” she nodded, then accepted another spoonful of soup.
He wasn't a total blockhead after all, apparently.
-
“And they decided that on their own?” Jose asked.
“I suppose with some input from Gordy, since he was there for Big John's rite,” Clay nodded.
“Well, it's fitting,” Jose said. “He earned it.”
“He sure as hell did.”
-
“Where do you think you're going, young man?” Jaylyn Thatcher said as Corey Reynard pulled himself up straight in bed and removed the lines he was still attached to.
“I'm going to my friend's funeral,” he told her quietly.
“You can't be-,”
“I'm going to say good-bye to my friend,” Corey didn't bother to let her finish. “We're not having a discussion about that, Doctor. I appreciate everything you've done for me, for keeping me alive and everything else. But I am doing this.” He stood shakily on his feet as he spoke. Before she could object the door to the clinic opened and Gordy, Titus, Heath and Zach walked in, Titus carrying what looked like a uniform.
“We'll take it from here, Doc,” Gordy said simply as Titus and Zach began helping Corey get dressed. “We'll bring him back in good shape,” he promised.
Realizing her arguments weren't going to have any effect, Jaylyn nodded and went to check on the other patients.
-
“Why is it like this?” Olivia asked as Lainie hugged her close.
Kade was laid out on a wooden rack of sorts with a stack of wood beneath him. She could smell diesel even before they had arrived. It was nearing dusk, and several torches were lit to illuminate the area, and the path down to the creek where Kade was lying.
“It's the way they say goodbye, sweetie,” Lainie told her, tears in her eyes as she remembered watching John Barnes' funeral.
“Are they... are they gonna burn him?” Olivia suddenly 'got it'.
“Like the warriors of old,” another voice said behind them. Lainie turned to see Jody Thompson of all people standing there, watching.
“What does that mean?” Olivia demanded. “Shouldn't he be buried?”
“His spirit is already gone, Olivia,” Jody said quietly. “What remains is merely a shell that carried it through life. Now, they say goodbye to him, they honor him, and the life they lived together. Kaden is already gone. This is all there is left to do.”
“By burning him?!” she almost yelled.
“By saluting him,” Jody didn't take offense. “He earned it,” the soldier's voice carried an earnestness to it that even Olivia didn't miss. “He deserves it. Very few do, but Kade has earned his place in the Fields of Elysium. This is how we say farewell.” He paused for a moment, struggling with the words.
“This is how we say goodbye to someone we respect. That we love as a brother. Someone we have shared good and bad times with and who
has shed blood with us, both our own and others. It is an honor. A sign of respect.”
“He deserves it, sweetie,” Lainie whispered. “They're different from us, honey. All of them. It's how they are, that's all. This is their version of a funeral.”
“You've seen it before?” Olivia asked her.
“I'm afraid I have,” Lainie nodded. “Now. You go and you tell him whatever you wanted him to know, while you have your time alone. They're waiting on you so that you can say goodbye your way.”
-
There was no drinking, no wild stories, no laughing. They sat around the pyre, in the dark, in silence until Heath spoke.
“Kade was my oldest friend,” he said quietly. “He was always there. I never had to look; he was just there. He always cared more about others than himself. He... he was more than just my friend. He was my brother.”
“Kade was my friend,” Titus picked it up. “Always had my back. Always answered when I called. His heart was bigger than he was. I always loved that about him. Always wished I was more like him. More like my brother.”
“Kade was my friend,” Gordy was next. “Always a clown,” he snorted in sad amusement. “Always quick with a joke. Always working to make people laugh and keep their spirits up. Always quick to see the bright spot on the darkest day. I always respected that about him. That desire to make others happy even if he wasn't happy himself. Like a brother would do.”
“Kaden was my friend,” Corey's voice wasn't as strong as usual, but it was firm in its resolve. “He always was. I tried to remember a time when he wasn't, but I can't. He was a true friend in any situation. If you were his friend, then he was on your side, right or wrong. You don't get better than that. Better than Kade. Better than a brother.”
Zach fidgeted slightly as the others waited on him. It took him a minute to speak.
“Kade was my friend,” he said finally. “I mean he was really my friend,” he added. “I don't have many friends. In fact, all of them are right here, right now,” he looked at the others each in turn. “And I'm... I'm angry,” he admitted. “It should have been me. Not Kade. Between the two of us, he's the one that deserved to live more. It should have been me. If I had the chance, I'd take his place. I'd go for him, and let him stay. Like... like a brother.” He felt something on his cheek and reached to wipe it away, astonished to find it was a tear. He had cried before, or at least he thought he had when he was small, but he hadn't cried in a very long time.
“It's called survivor's guilt,” another voice came from the dark, and they turned to see Kevin Bodee walking into the light with them. “The feeling that it should have been, or at least could have been you.”
“Guilt at being alive while your brother is gone,” Jody Thompson joined them, appearing like a ghost from the darkness. “Guilt that perhaps you could have prevented it, if only you had been faster, or shot straighter,” he looked directly at Zach Willis as he spoke.
“Guilt that you're happy to be alive, even if your friend is gone,” Jose Juarez was next. “Guilt that you feel that way, even though it's natural to celebrate being alive. It's not wrong to be glad to be alive. You can grieve your friend's loss without guilt over your own survival.”
“Remember tonight,” Clay was last. “Remember how this feels, how you feel. Unless you are extraordinarily fortunate, you'll find yourself here again at some point. And one day, it will probably be you. Sooner or later the Sidhe calls for us all. You can't outrun her, and you can't escape her. So, live your life, boys, and live it well. Without regrets or doubts. Without reservations or hesitations. Live every day like it could be your last, because one day, it will be. Remember those who have gone on ahead, because one day you'll be on your way to take your place beside them.”
Like ghosts, the older men suddenly merged with the shadows again, leaving the teens alone once more. They sat in silence for some time before Gordy stood abruptly, pulling his knife. Holding it with his injured arm, he pulled his opposite palm across the blade, drawing blood. He squeezed his hand into a fist, forcing blood into his hand as he handed the knife to Titus.
While Gordy walked to where Kade lay, Titus did the same thing to his own hand, his face showing no emotion at all as he did.
Gordy allowed his hand to fill with blood before carefully putting his hand on Kade's right cheek, leaving his hand print there in his own blood. Titus followed, placing his own palm print on Kade's chest. Heath's went to Kade's left cheek, Zach to his forehead. Then all four returned to where Corey was struggling to get to his feet.
“Easy, brother,” Titus said softly. “We got you.” Together they lifted Corey from his chair, helping him walk to where Kade lay waiting. Using the same knife they had all used, Corey cut his own palm, forcing it to fill with blood just as they had. Placing his fingers just below Zach's print, Corey allowed his print to cover Kade's eyes, nose and chin. Gordy placed a piece of cloth in his hand to stop the bleeding, and Corey squeezed his hand around it.
“Time to say goodbye,” Gordy told them. Titus brought Gordy and Corey each a small torch, then got another for himself and Zach, who was holding Corey steady. Heath took the last one and stood on the far side of the pyre from the others.
“Goodbye, brother,” Heath said simply. “I don't know how I'll make it without knowing you're behind me. We'll join you again, some day.” With that simple statement, Heath placed his torch at the bottom of the wood beneath Kade's body. It ignited at once.
“Farewell, brother,” the others said in a ragged chorus, adding their torches to the fire. All of them stood there until the heat forced them back. The fire burned hot, almost as if Kade's spirit had caught fire itself. The fuel-soaked wood burned so hot that come morning nothing would remain but ash. Clay and Jody had built the pyre, and unfortunately, they had far too much experience at it.
Finally, Corey could stand no longer. Titus and Zach each took a side and began the trip back to the clinic. Gordy offered to get a wheelchair, but Corey was adamant that he could walk one last time for Kade. Gordy followed anyway, in case Corey changed his mind.
Heath alone remained, watching as his first and best friend's remains burned to ash. Kade wouldn't have left him all alone to start this journey, and he would not do so to Kade. He had the time to see his friend on his way.
Heath would not realize it, but he would not sit his vigil completely alone. In the dark, twenty yards away, Jody Thompson sat alone in the shadows, watching. He had the time to see his protege bid his friend farewell. Something Jody himself had done far too often.
And would no doubt one day do again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The next morning was one of activity. The group of women who had decided they wanted to learn to fight had to be tended to. Clothing issued, sleeping quarters found, equipment assigned and so on. A temporary shuffling of quarters would see the Bunkhouse on the hill turned into a women's dormitory. The teens would move into the house that Zach had once shared with Vicki Tully, while Vicki would return to the dorm atop Building Two. Virgil Wilcox would bunk with Gary Meecham for the time being.
A six-wheel Cougar sat on the pad, machine gun already in place. Behind it sat one Hummer, also mounting a machine gun, this one an M240. Vicki Tully was in the tub of the Hummer while Greg Holloway was the driver. Zach sat behind the gun on the Cougar, with Virgil Wilcox at the wheel and Clay in the seat behind him. All other seats held one of the three women or seven kids who were being taken to Jordan, along with Talia Gray. She would be gathering her things and then returning to the farm with them. She was not looking forward to that, as it would likely lead to an altercation with Pickett or perhaps Dawson, but she had made her decision. For more reasons than one.
At the last-minute Clay had hedged his bet and added one of the Guardian MRAP vehicles, putting Wilcox behind the wheel there and bringing Titus to drive the Ghost for him. Kevin Bodee and Xavier Adair would round out the crew in the Guardian. Just in case the good people of Jordan wanted to be as
sholes. Clay fervently hoped it didn't come to that.
By the time the sun was up good, the women and children had been fed a good breakfast and loaded into vehicles, and the convoy was on the way to Jordan. Behind them, the farm was once again on alert, with all civilian defenders at their posts until the others returned. That schedule was wearing on them, but until all the defenders had returned it seemed the best idea.
-
The log trailer was gone from the highway when they came in sight of Jordan. Clay assumed the attack had gotten it. He decided not to waste any time in unloading the people he as carrying and turned to the two women that had requested to come to Jordan.
“Where are your family members?” he asked. Both gave him directions and Titus followed them. The houses were ideally within two blocks of each other, so it was one stop. He was surprised not to be challenged coming into town but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. The women and children were quickly unloaded, including the mouthy woman from Lewiston, still harping at Clay for not taking her home as she had instructed. He ignored her as Gray told Titus how to find her home.
Two minutes later they were outside a small frame home three blocks from the center of town. Gray stepped down, with Titus following her, Kevin Bodee and Virgil Wilcox joining them as the rest stood guard outside. The quartet had made one trip to the Cougar with Gray's possessions when Pickett showed up along with another Constable.
“What's going on?” Pickett asked as Gray exited her house with another tub of belongings. “Gray, where are you going?”
“I asked to be added to their group,” she replied flatly. “I'm going to go through basic training with them and join their force.”
“I thought you weren't going to recruit from town!” Pickett turned to Clay.
“Didn't,” Clay shook his head. “Miss Gray was taken prisoner by the group that attacked you. They attacked us later that same day, and we rescued her. This was her idea. She came to me.”
“That true?” Pickett demanded, turning to Gray once more.
