Chapter 28 Torin
TORIN
We were goin’ round again.
I was better prepared because I had knowledge of what had happened before — The gate blew. Smoke filled the air. Blasts and screams surrounded us, the music blared.
I was already movin’ afore the dust settled, low and fast, an eye on Max, m’other eye watchin’ the parapets. Twas the same as before.
Same smoke, same splinters, same stench of burning thatch.
I ran harder this time, the helmet heavy on my head, my shoulder already aching from the bolt I guessed was comin’.
Max’s new rifle jammed on the exact same cursed click.
He snarled, “Och, ye worthless iron whore! Shoot, or I’ll throw ye intae the sea!”
I dinna laugh. I am past laughing.
Instead I said, runnin’ by, “Tis at least a different joke.”
The magnesium flares burst overhead in the same blinding bloom.
Aenghus fought the same two men.
Charlie’s drone dipped the same way.
And there it was: the crossbowman, nocking the same bolt that had already pierced me twice in dreams I wasna supposed tae remember. How many times?
I twisted left instead of right.
The bolt meant tae plant in my shoulder tore across the skin instead.
Hot, wet, familiar.
I growled and kept moving.
Ryan’s voice in my ear, “I can’t get the shot!”
Max took the bolt embedded in his side under his arm, deep in.
Same stagger.
Same blood on the same stones.
My heart dipped, we werna winnin’, twas the same, over and over.
Rannald laughed from the same step, inside the tunnel, the shadows spilling out a different direction. He was flanked by guards, his black cloak swirling in smoke, the edge of it flicked in a breeze.
My eyes caught it, briefly, then focused.
I sprinted.
Across the yard, up the steps, I held m’claymore high.
I reached them faster this time.
My claymore rang against Rannald’s guard; then Ryan’s sniper round punched through Rannald’s thigh.
He yelled in pain.
Then Rannald fell.
His soldiers closed around him and dragged him away through the tunnel to the sally port while I hesitated — what ought I tae do — die tryin’ tae end him, or help m’laird tae live?
The verra same indecision.
Max dropped tae one knee, coughin’ the same red froth.
“Retreat!” I roared. Nae one argued.
My mind turnin’ over the events, I lifted Max m’self, slingin’ his arm over m’good shoulder, I carried him through the gate while the world burned behind us.
Outside the walls I laid him down in a patch of heather.
Charlie’s arm bled from a similar wound. He was bein’ carried, the pallor on his face gave me pause. He was closer tae death.
We had made it worse.
Ryan’s hands shook the same way as he pressed gauze to Max’s wound.
I studied the scene, then knelt down beside Max and pulled the vessel from his pocket.
Ryan wouldna meet m’eyes.
“I need ye tae look, Ryan, are the markings right tae get us tae the med bay?”
He said, “Yeah, yeah, they are.” All around us our soldiers gathered, callin’ directions, carryin’ fallen soldiers and the wounded.
Aenghus called down the line, “Is everyone here? Hold on!”
A voice from the end of the line called, “Waiting on Robbs!”
Aenghus said, “He’s coming! I see him! Give him thirty seconds tae catch up.”
Ryan said, “I suppose this was our last try — damn, I thought we had it this time.”
I saw the man they called Robbs catch up tae our group.
Twas time tae go.
I said, “Nae, twas not our last, we are goin’ tae go around once more, but this time we are goin’ tae do it my way.”
I twisted the vessel and the pain filled me, tearing me from the world.