Confirmed Hit
Jude
It was a near-miss. All of it.
For a moment we stood there, her in that yellow suit and World War-era gas mask, and me in my arksuit. The world was finally quiet; there was only her and me.
Us, the guns…
Our fate.
It should have been tragic, but apparently it took the end of the world for us to finally collide.
Solace collapsed seconds after her shot rang out, and for a soul-crushing second, I thought she’d shot herself. But that couldn’t be true, because there was a hole in the tree right behind me—right where my head had been two seconds earlier.
“Jesus.” I dropped to my knees beside her.
“SOL full body scan.” Pulling her into my lap I wrestled with the latch on my helmet until I managed to tear it off.
Hers was trickier. Her thick curls had tangled themselves beneath the rubber seal, and the mask clung stubbornly to her skin.
I tried to be gentle as I eased it free. “Sorry, baby.”
The moment it came loose, I slid my own helmet over her head.
It wouldn’t seal without a suit but I could get her extra oxygen, and clear, safe air.
At least until I got her back to the ship.
SOL’s calm voice flickered to life, muffled through the in-helmet speaker.
“Subject shows severe dehydration, caloric deficiency, and acute exhaustion. Vital signs indicate early-stage organ distress. Subject’s ARS-7 levels are dangerously elevated. ”
My stomach dropped. I was in hell.
“Immediate hydration is recommended. Nutrient intake required within the next several hours. Medical assistance required.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, already scooping her up.
“Working on it.” I pushed to my feet with her in my arms and started back toward the shuttle.
Cold night air brushed across my face where my helmet should have been.
I inhaled. The air tasted strange, thin and metallic, but it didn’t burn.
I didn’t choke on ash or soot. I was probably being poisoned as we speak, but it wouldn’t take long to get back to the ship.
Halfway through the trees something occurred to me—I would have SOL run an in depth atmosphere scan after I got Solace settled.
The shuttle came into view between the trees, half-buried in the dead flower fields and long-forgotten grass. Climbing through the small door, I laid her gently across the narrow bench in the back, moving buckles out of the way. “Hang on, Solace.”
The door hissed shut and the air kicked on.
I was stupid for not considering the fact that she might need medical attention, that even as I dug through the med kit tucked in an overhead compartment, I had nothing useful.
I’d learn how to place an IV in the military, but there wasn’t any saline.
Pulling my helmet off her head, I set it on the ground beside my knees and took a bottle of water from my pack.
We’d have to do this the old fashioned way.
“Solace,” I murmured, sliding a hand beneath her back and lifting her gently into a sitting position.
Her lips were cracked—split and raw. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes moved restlessly.
“Solace, I need you to wake up.” With one hand I unscrewed the cap and took a small drink, wetting my own lips before leaning forward.
I pressed my mouth to hers—barely a brush—enough to soften the dryness and coax her from sleep.
I took another drink, then set my lips to hers.
She shifted weakly in my arms. “Solace, you have to open your eyes,” I whispered. “Wake up, love.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek and rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in. “I’m going to fix this, I’m going to make you better, but you have to open your eyes for me.”
I set the bottle against her lips as her throat worked and her mouth finally parted. Her eyes fluttered open weakly, drifting in slow, lazy circles as they tried to find something steady to land on. She was dizzy, no doubt.
“Hey—hey. I’m here,” I murmured, brushing my thumb lightly across her cheek. “Solace, it’s Jude. I need you to take a slow sip for me.”
She made a faint noise in the back of her throat, something between a breath and a protest, and I took it as encouragement.
“It’s water. Take a small sip.” Those velvet eyes settled on my face then, searching, as if she were trying to decide whether I was real.
“Jude?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” I was unable to stop the small smile tugging at my mouth. “It’s me. Do you think you can take a sip?”
She swallowed hard, her brow knitting faintly, and gave the smallest shake of her head.
“It’s okay,” I added quickly. “Not too fast. Don’t sit up—I’ve got you.
You’re going to be alright.” I tipped the bottle carefully, where a thin stream touched her lips.
With hawk-like focus, I watched her throat move as she swallowed—once, then again—each careful sip working its way down.
The last thing we needed was for her to drink too quickly and lose it all again.
So I knelt there, half-covering and half-holding her, counting each swallow as if it was the beat of my own heart.
As if it mattered more than anything else left in the world.
“Did I shoot you?” she croaked, pushing the bottle away as she tried to sit up.
“Lay down a bit longer, please.” There were a few blankets folded beneath one of the seats. I pulled one free and balled it up, tucking it beneath her head before easing her back down. She settled against the hard plastic bench, her face turned toward me.
“It was a near miss.” I couldn’t help it—I was so goddamn relieved she was here. In front of me. Alive. I leaned down and pressed another kiss to her forehead.
“We’re good at those.”
“You know…” I brushed a curl away from her temple, “if you’d just said yes to me all those years ago, this whole thing could have been avoided.”
Her mouth curved faintly. God, she was perfect.
“I should have said yes.”
Heart. Soul. Blood. Bone. That’s what Solace was. Mine.
“You promised you’d be my girlfriend when we grew up.”
She coughed softly, her eyes drifting closed again. Then she murmured, barely louder than a breath, “What’s forever?”
My thumb traced the familiar curve of her cheek, and for the first time since the end of the world, I knew I was the luckiest bastard alive.
“Let’s find out.”