Chapter 13 #4
I was not prepared to hear her voice, no matter how much I wished for it, and it brings tears to my eyes.
When she gets up and turns, the camera reveals a dimly lit traffic tunnel.
A single row of jaundiced yellow lights stretches above her.
Looking down, what’s tripped her up and inadvertently turned on her cam is a body.
Order, by the looks of the green bits of uniform.
Taylor laboriously turns the body over and rips the dog tags off their chest and tucks them into her pocket.
Not too far away, yelling and gunfire echoes toward her.
A man’s voice shouts and the gunfire ceases.
The only noise is Taylor’s labored breathing.
Then, an emphatic clunk. And another. In rapid succession, the bleary lights above Taylor shut off in front of and behind her. The tunnel goes totally dark.
Taylor huffs. “Oh, come on.”
In a flash, she sprints. An orchestra of noises makes up for my lack of sight—the hard push of Taylor’s breath, the frenzied pounding of her boots, and the marching of dozens upon dozens of feet behind her.
Finally, a glimmer of moonlight shines on part of the cam, growing larger as Taylor dashes toward it.
Emerging into the light, her boots crunch through several inches of snow as she struggles up a short hill.
Once she reaches the top she collapses, quickly turning over and fumbling with something in her hands.
It’s a rectangular box with an exposed red button.
After a short hesitation, she presses the button and an eruption shakes the ground.
Her camera faces the collapsing tunnel, and we watch it crumble on itself with a series of explosions.
Screams and the noises of dying chaos create a disturbing backdrop for her even, low voice. “O war, thou son of hell, whom angry heavens do make their minister.”
It takes a minute or two for the debris to settle, but once it does, Taylor taps her watch. “Eos to Theia.”
The comm crackles in response. “Yes, Eos.”
“Confirmation, Dunn’s largest squadron has been eliminated at my location. Dunn unconfirmed among those eliminated. I believe he is behind them.”
“What happened?”
“I tricked them into following me into a tunnel I previously wired with explosives.”
I grumble, “For fuck’s sake, Taylor.”
“Excellent,” Theia says through the comm. “Magnificent job, as always, Lieutenant General.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Taylor pauses. “I—May I speak freely?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I—We are taking heavy losses here. Both sides—even Dunn’s numbers are dwindling.
I—” It is unlike Taylor to be so dodgy and I listen intently to her voice.
“I wonder if this is still the best way. Chasing Dunn all over the region, killing his people. Could I not, I don’t know, try to negotiate a surrender? ”
There is a very long, very intense silence before we hear static on the line. “Are you questioning our plan?”
“No, ma’am, I’m—”
“Questioning me, then.” Theia sighs over the comm. “This is the third time you’ve used our correspondence to doubt my orders. Have you lost all faith in me?”
“No, ma’am, of course not.”
“I hope not,” Theia replies. “I know you have a lot of voices in your head, whose influence may grow in my absence, but I am doing my best to win this war and what I need is a general who has my back, not eyeing the many knives with which to stab it.”
“Theia, I would never. I am loyal to you, to this cause, you know that.”
“Yes, you always have been, and I hope you will continue to be.” Taylor doesn’t respond, and Theia speaks once more. “Stay at your position for another twenty minutes and ensure no one leaves that tunnel alive. Then rejoin your platoon at their post. Over.”
“Yes, ma’am. Over.”
What follows is exactly twenty minutes of Taylor sitting on that dreary hill with a sniper rifle aimed at a mountain of broken concrete blocks.
Nobody emerges. True to her word, once the twenty minutes is up, she walks the long journey to where a portion of her platoon rests in an abandoned storefront, windowpanes shattered, but there is at least a roof over their heads.
Her camera pans over huddled soldiers, some injured, some not. I don’t recognize any of them.
“Is everyone all right?”
Soldiers nod and she walks along, checking in with the members of her squad who’ve taken refuge with her. Mason is there, too, and I sigh in relief. He doesn’t look hurt, either. Finally, she slides down next to him and props her elbows on her knees.
“You okay, Lil’ T?”
“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says. “We have at least four hours before Dunn gets here.”
“He’s in for a surprise.”
Taylor huffs out one, short laugh. “Yeah. Or, we die. So, really, a surprise for everyone.”
“Nah. We’re gonna be okay.”
“We better. Maria would kill me if you died. Maria would kill you if you died,” Taylor says, and I laugh out loud into my hand.
Mason laughs. “Oh, yeah. Somehow, she’d haunt my ghost.”
Their laughter fades into silence as they, and I, gaze into the strange calm of the street outside. “What do you think she’s doing now?”
“Maria? Probably asleep. If not, up drinking and playing cards,” he says fondly. “Have you heard from Lucy?”
“No one in Lansing has access to my comms.”
“Right. They can access your cam though, can’t they?”
Taylor’s fingers caress the lens on her chest. In turn, I touch the screen. “Sure, if I turn it on. Looks like it got turned on by accident.”
“Why not leave it on?”
“Too risky. If Dunn hacks into the camera system, we’re goners.” She missed the opportunity to say “We’re Dunn for.” If only I were there. I am, at the very least, good for a pun.
“He’s gonna be dead soon,” Mason insists. “Lucy will want to know you’re okay. If Maria could access the feed, she’d do it in a heartbeat. If you care about Lucy—”
“That’s not the same. Maria is your…partner.” I hear Mason chuckle, and what I assume is the sound of Taylor nudging him. “I do care about Lucy.” My heart thumps so loudly I think it could wake Delilah two rooms over. “I do not want her to watch me kill people.”
“She can handle that. She’s strong.”
“I know. It’s me who is weak.” Tears prick at my eyes as Taylor drops her hand away from the camera. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I cannot risk anyone knowing our position.”
“All right, if you think so. Maria’s gonna be real pissed there was a way to see me and you kept the cam off.”
“She will not know if you do not snitch on me.”
“Honesty is important in a relationship,” he says in faux instructional voice.
“Oh, shut up.”
I don’t know who falls asleep first. Taylor’s fingers are clasped over her chest, blocking the camera as much as she is holding it. Exhaustion drags me kicking and screaming into oblivion, my fingers pressed to the glass.
By early February, most of the MidCountry is in Order hands.
Taylor’s ambush of Dunn obliterated his forces and forced his surrender.
She is subsequently dispatched to Toledo, Ohio, to assist other units.
From there she’s sent to Cleveland, then back to Detroit.
I’d be more upset at her continued absence if it isn’t the only way I know she’s alive.
Theia remains in Pennsylvania, a growing presence on the hijacked radio and television stations.
The Southeast has only a handful of holdout cities left, and tensions in my region are coming to a boil.
Boston, Providence, and Baltimore are reporting skirmishes and violence between Force and Order.
It’s all coming together as it all falls apart.
Every so often, Delilah joins me on a morning run and together we plod along the unfamiliar, comely streets of Lansing. Today, we rest on a bench near the bank of a partially frozen lake on cloudy Sunday morning. Water shimmers beneath the surface of the ice, trying to break through.
My feet bounce on the bench seat, my butt propped up on the back.
Delilah stretches next to me, bent at the waist and panting heavily.
I don’t think she normally does this kind of exercise, but she needs the time away too.
Our lives are exhausting, but also strangely invigorating.
Or maybe she thinks I’m going to try to run off if she leaves me to my own devices. If only I had the stamina.
“So, Miss Piccolo, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
I swig some water and look up. “Oh, really?” I’m not sure what she could surprise me with. We both have access to the N-tel, which I read diligently like a holy text.
“Yes, really. I spoke to Theia yesterday, and she has given Taylor permission to come to Lansing,” she reveals with a big smile.
Hope buoys me. “When?”
“Tomorrow. She—” Her watch, similar to Taylor’s, beeps loudly. Brow furrowed, she examines the briefing on her screen. “Oh my God.”
“What?” Instead of answering, she holds out her wrist to me and I read the incoming message:
Ambushed 48 clicks outside of Lansing. Have Helios. Need hospital. ETA 45 min. Advise. —E.
“E? Our E? Eos E?”
Once we get home, Delilah punches in the latitude and longitude coordinates for the hospital and relays the information to Taylor. Camped at Delilah’s desk in our running gear, we eagerly await her response.
Copy. ETA 15 min. —E.
I give up on standing or exerting any energy, and sink into a chair. I’m not sure if I feel relief. I’m teetering on a wire.
“Luciana, you should prepare yourself,” Delilah says to me over her desk. “I don’t know if the medical assistance is for her or Mason, or both. Either way, I don’t imagine she’ll be in great shape when she arrives.”