Several pops of gunfire shattered the peace. Sentries dropped and the remaining pale-skinned aliens scrambled for cover and weapons.
A full assault followed. Jon’s team constricted inward from the forest, blazing away with licks of brilliant fire spitting from high-powered rifles as if dragon’s breath.
The Red Hands did not shrink from gunfire. Jon realized they felt no fear of advanced weapons. Indeed, the presence of the modern weaponry angered the aliens. They charged forward with a religious fervor, as if believing their righteousness could overcome firepower.
One of Jon’s team-a bearded fellow who had ridden north with Stonewall-suffered an arrow in the leg. An enemy warrior hacked to death a dog with a hatchet. Nonetheless, the assault turned to victory as K9s tore at throats and bullets felled the Red Hands.
– When Trevor called for her to fly him in an Apache to the Red Hand camp, Nina did not refuse. She had already decided not to let him see how much his rejection bothered her.
The sun had disappeared behind the horizon but enough of its glimmer remained to keep night at bay for a short while longer. The Apache flew above the treetops, ascending and descending with the contour of the land.
Jon guided them to the camp via tactical radio. She landed the chopper in the middle of the dead village. Jon, his team, and a small group of freed, shell-shocked human slaves waited.
Nina followed Trevor from the Apache and walked behind as Brewer gave his report.
'This one was closer than we thought. From what the captives told us, there are three settlements farther north, but they’re spread out more. Not going to be easy to find.'
The men stopped. Nina stopped with them. Jon pointed toward one of the smaller structures. Trevor turned to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder.
'Thank you. You’re a hell of a soldier. I may not have-'
'Trev. It’s okay. Maybe now I have a chance to…to redeem myself.'
'You already have. Now get ready to return to the estate. Your mission is over.'
Jon turned around but Trevor continued forward. Nina hesitantly followed.
Trevor pushed aside the animal skin curtain at the entrance to one of the smaller dwellings. Remnants of a fire smoldered in the middle of the chamber, a hole in the roof allowed strands of lazy smoke to drift away. Sacks wove from plants hung on the walls serving as racks for weapons and tools. Next to the fire lay a wool blanket.
Trevor knelt on both knees and stared. Nina waited for him to speak, to tell her why they had come but she could think of nothing else to do other than kneel alongside him.
He pulled the blanket off the bruised and bloodied body of Sheila Evans, her eyes wide open but seeing nothing…nothing other than whatever pain and suffering she had endured the last hours of her life.
Nina had seen the face of death a thousand times since late June. Sheila’s face now became just another to join Sal’s and a parade of others.
Scott?
She turned to Trevor expecting he would be ready to go. He was not. His lips quivered. His eyes closed. He trembled.
'She just wanted to belong.'
His chance at redemption… his chance to tell her she belonged…gone.
'I’m sorry, Sheila. I’m so sorry…'
Nina watched his misery pour forth. His grief took her by as much surprise as his cold tone had taken her at the meeting that morning. Could this possibly be the same person? So different the emotions. All in one person?
When we start killing again, I’ll call for you.
Stone sobbed alongside the body of Sheila Evans. As Nina watched, she stopped questioning why he acted this way. Instead, she questioned herself. She realized she should do something to comfort a fellow human being, but she did not know what. She didn’t know how.
Nina Forest envied him his remorse. She wondered how it felt.
14. Red Rain
Lori Brewer walked into the empty basement of the mansion. No one ever lurked in the basement in the mornings, making that a great time to return the DVD her and Jon had kept in their room the last few nights. She stuck it in the video cabinet: waaayyy in the back. As she did, a muscle in her upper leg ached.
Last time we take that DVD. Ouch.
She noticed the armory’s door ajar. Curious as usual, Lori peeked inside.
Nina Forest, dressed in her SWAT outfit with a green army jacket, strolled among the racks of weapons, her eyes glazed in a trance. She drifted a hand over the metal of the guns as if not sure they were real, like a child in a museum filled with wondrous but scary treasures.
'I would recommend the black one; it goes better with the ensemble.'
Her head swiveled around. 'Oh, hello, Lori.'
Nina returned her attention to the racks. 'I can use every gun in here. Fix a jam, break down and clean…I can do it. I can tell you the muzzle velocity and rate of fire for each one, too.'
Although Lori did not get the impression Nina sought an answer, she pointed out, 'You have a skill. A skill that’s pretty important these days.'
'Yeah. Good thing for me the world went to Hell.'
Nina closely inspected one of the assault rifles. Nothing special about that one, it merely happened to be nearest.
'Nina, I want you to know I’m your friend.'
'A friend? I wonder what that really means.'
Lori came back, 'You sure are tough.'
'Don’t worry; I’m that way with everyone.'
'I mean on yourself.' Lori let that sink in and then asked, 'What is it you’re afraid of?'
Nina stared off at nothing. 'I don’t get afraid. I don’t get scared. I don’t get sad.' She considered and added, 'But I do get mad and even confused now and then.'
Lori opened her mouth but Nina told her, 'I’ve got to go. Trevor has called a meeting. He needs me now; there’s more killing to do.'
– Four men huddled around a map of northeastern Pennsylvania unfurled on the large desktop: Trevor, Stonewall, Shepherd and Jon. Nina Forest stood two paces in the background with her eyes fixed on the floor, as if she dared not look anywhere else.
Behind them, beyond the glass balcony doors, thick gray clouds blocked out the morning sun, creating a dreariness reinforced by the pitter-patter of rain against the window.
Trevor spoke, 'I spent last night interrogating the freed captives.'
'Interrogating?' Shep did not like that word.
'Just like you heard, Jon. Three more camps. Probably stretching up into Wyoming County but all within spitting distance of the river.'
Stonewall suggested, 'I propose we send both of those marvelous flying machines to find the camps from the air and-oh, what would be the word? — blast them to smithereens. '
Jon disagreed. 'There are human prisoners in those camps. Missiles and Gatling guns are overkill if we’re trying to rescue hostages.'
Trevor said, 'I’m not so worried about rescuing. The important thing here is retribution.'
Shepherd did not like that word, either.
'Retribution? Seems to me we might do right by forgetting about them for now. Seems to me they’re far enough away that we just might not hear from them again any time soon.'
'That’s how it may seem to you, Shep, but it seems to me that a bunch of these things came to our house
