Grace grew dangerously pale and faint. She limply raised an arm above her head, pointing in the direction of where the shed once stood. “Lauren,” she moaned, “I can’t find…oh no…my…my baby…”
Ken gritted his teeth at the pandemonium before him. It was too soon to presume or confirm anything, but he grasped what had happened here, having seen this brand of destruction countless times throughout his tours of duty. “I have to get you to the doc’s. We can figure this other shit out later, but you’re critical, and that makes you the priority.” He gauged his current situation. The leg in which he’d taken a bullet was now mostly healed. It was usable, but he’d been walking on it while using a crutch for support. Ken glanced down at the grass where he’d dropped it a moment ago. To get Grace help, he was going to need both arms—and both legs.
“Fuck it.” And with a loud grunt, he rose and hoisted Grace up with him. Turning, he hobbled through the yard, past the cabin and onto the driveway, feeling flashes of pain radiate through his recovering leg each time he planted his foot. Feeling the pain’s intensity grow as he went, Ken recognized that he could indeed be harming himself, but it didn’t matter to him. Pain was temporary, and in his arms now was one of Alan Russell’s daughters. He was going to get her the help she needed even if it killed him.
Ken fired off a blaring, “Oohrah!” as he closed in on the gate just ahead. It felt like it was taking forever to get there, and his leg agreed, feeling now as though parts of it were on fire. Reaching for the chain holding the gate closed, he saw Grace’s body go limp. “Dammit. Hang on! Just hang on, young lady, damn you!” He fumbled with the chain, pulling and tugging on it, but for some reason, it wouldn’t budge. The damn thing was either locked or caught on something, possibly a nail, but he couldn’t see what it was from where he was standing.
Ken didn’t want to lay Grace down in her condition to fight with a stupid chain, but he didn’t see any other choice. As he prepared to do just that, a figure happened upon him, shifting rapidly from out of nowhere into his viewpoint like a wraith.
“Ken? What happened? Are you hurt?” It was Jade. In a flash, she tore open the gate and looked to Grace, going wide-eyed. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph…what happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Ken replied. “We were both in the cabin when the blast detonated. Knocked me right out of the rack. I followed her bloody footprints and found her struggling in the yard. She’s bleeding a lot from somewhere, but I haven’t had time to check her out.”
Jade helped Ken set Grace gently onto the ground and went about a brief, discreet triage. “Shit…I think she’s hemorrhaging. We have to get her to the infirmary, and I mean on the fucking dub.”
“I know—I was doing that until that piece-of-shit gate got in the way,” Ken chided, rubbing his leg. “I can still get her there, Jade.”
“I know you can, and I’m not doubting you,” Jade said as calmly as her will would allow, “but this…it’s a…female thing, Ken.”
“You mean like with the baby?”
“I don’t know. But it’s serious. You should let me take her.”
Ken’s concerned expression contorted a tinge. “Right. Good call, Jade. You do that, and I’ll just—”
“You find Alan.” Jade picked Grace up like a forklift hoisting an empty pallet, turned, and thrust herself into a run. “Find him, Michelle…and Lauren, too, and tell them all what happened. Then get with Woo Tang and his troops! Try to figure out just what the hell is happening around here!” She then dashed away and out of sight.
Ken harrumphed, rose, and patted his aching leg, watching her. “Sure thing. I’m on it. Ooh-fucking-rah.”
Chapter 25
A dreadfully piercing, high-pitched ringing in her ears brought her around. The acrid taste of smoke and soot present in her mouth, a splitting headache throbbed rhythmically with the rattled cadence of her heart. Rigid tingles of pain radiated from her sides, neck and various places about her back.
Lauren took labored breaths while sensing an immense weight pushing down upon her chest. She peeled open her eyes, coughed and gagged, and spit out a dry mouthful of foulness. Her feet, calves, and backs of her legs were damp and cold, and she could sense something wet splashing beneath her palms. A painstaking look sideways and toward her feet confirmed the lower half of her body was halfway submerged in foamy, flowing water.
She coughed again, heavily this time, her chest convulsing into heaves. Not yet fully alert, Lauren tried orienting herself, learning that the weight she was feeling atop her was that of a human body, one that wasn’t moving. She began recalling where she had been and what she’d been doing before the explosion and the fierce, blisteringly hot surge that had sent her soaring weightless through the air. She hadn’t been alone. Neo had made a mad dash for her and held onto her for dear life seconds ahead of it.
Lauren tried to push Neo’s body off with both hands but couldn’t budge him. She tried rolling over, focusing the strength of both arms onto one of his shoulders, but Neo’s immobile mass was too heavy for her in this position. Then she tried inching her way to the side, sliding herself out from underneath him. This strategy bore fruit, but soon became the most tormenting of the three, as shards of shale and jagged submerged branches tore through her clothing and into her skin.
Once free of him, Lauren uprighted to a kneeling position, tossed her hair from her eyes, and gasped at the sight. Portions of Neo’s clothing had either been burned or blown off, and multiple open, seeping wounds coated his back and backside. His skin there was
