Will McIntosh - Defenders

Two more came into view. Like the first, these two were focused on threats from nearby houses and other areas that provided potential cover; none thought to look in an old swimming pool.

When they were out of sight, Kai and Shoelace pulled themselves out of the pool and retrieved their rifles.

“We should touch base with HQ, find out where we’re supposed to rendezvous,” Shoelace said as water dripped off him and pattered to the concrete.

Kai took a deep, sighing breath, then looked off at the smoking wreckage. The thought of heading back into that insanity made him want to cry. If they went, they would die. He was certain of that. Kai didn’t want to die. He wanted to see his son again, his wife.

It was time to fold, he realized. Time to collect what chips he had left and leave the table. He looked at Shoelace and said, “I think we should find a house that’s still standing and crash there until this thing is over.”

Shoelace chuckled, but Kai gave him a level look. “No, I’m serious.” This war was so big, so complicated, no one would miss two soldiers. “We can get some sleep, read a book.”

Shoelace gave Kai a pained look. “Kai, I can’t do that. Like the sergeant said, if we don’t stop them now, we’re not going to.”

“We’re not going to,” Kai said. “We both know that.”

“We at least have to try .” When Kai didn’t respond, Shoelace shook his head, then took a few steps toward the house, which was now nothing but a big bonfire on a concrete foundation. “You know what these stilts are like. You know that better than I do.”

“I don’t want my son to grow up an orphan the way I did.”

“I have four kids!” Shoelace shouted. “I’m afraid they won’t get to grow up at all.” Suddenly his face just fell. He looked at Kai, shook his head slowly, ponderously, then held out his hand.

Kai shook it. “See you again sometime.”

“Sure. You know, if the defenders take the area, you’ll be caught behind enemy lines.”

Kai shrugged. “They won’t bother me if I keep my head down.”

Shoelace headed in the direction the defenders had gone. Kai watched him walk for a moment, then he went in the opposite direction. He had about two days before the full defender ground force would arrive. By then he needed to be stocked up with food and supplies, and to be in a basement somewhere.

His stomach was a knot of guilt, more for letting Shoelace down than anything else. The rest of them would fare about as well with or without him. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t owe them anything.

A half mile away Kai found Jaden, Julie, and their family. There was a stream running under a little bridge on the access road that led into the housing development. They’d taken a position under the bridge. Not a bad move, all in all.

They were all dead.

July 11, 2045. Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Orders were shouted. All around the war room, rapid conversations took place. Dominique left her swivel seat as unobtrusively as possible, and went to stand by the exit. Not that she was planning to go anywhere; she just felt like she should get out of the way, because she was of no use in this situation. Worse, she felt as if people were silently asking the back of her head why she’d made the defenders complete psychopaths.

“They’re securing oil fields and refineries as they advance on Baghdad,” some colonel shouted. He was near the front, looking at a live feed of a tactical map. “Long-range rockets launched from the Persian Gulf have hit the center of gravity in Baghdad. No word on the status of the premier and other leaders working there.”

A civilian in a black suit was suddenly at Dominique’s side. He offered her a bottle of water. “You all right?”

She accepted the water with a nod of thanks. “I’m just trying to stay out of the way. I’m not of any use in this situation.” Someone shouted to the president. She watched him climb the steps, two at a time, then huddle with two strategists. “To be honest,” she said laughing, “I’m not even sure why I’m here. I was on the Australia team.”

“Oh, I can answer that, Dr. Wiewall. The operation in Australia was recorded—everything is recorded; we’re being recorded right now. The president went over that recording, so he knows who fucked up and who didn’t. You didn’t.”

Dominique laughed harshly. “No, I only designed the bloody things. I didn’t fuck up at all.” If felt good to say it, to get it out in the open.

“You had to be quick. Not to mention, you saved the human race.”

She stepped closer, grateful for the words, for a sympathetic ear. “I’m still responsible for what they are. I should have considered what they’d be like , not simply how effective they’d be in battle.”

The man gave her a kind smile. “I’m not sure you’re being fair to yourself.”

She offered the civilian her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t know you.”

“Forrest Rosenberg. Secret Service.”

“Thank you for telling me about the recordings. I feel better, knowing everyone in the room doesn’t think I’m an idiot.”

“No problem.”

July 11, 2045. Mapleton, Utah.

A wounded defender lay beside the road. His side was flayed open, his arm gone above the elbow. Shrapnel wounds, from a tank round or a howitzer. Probably a tank. The defender had torn a strip from his pants to use as a tourniquet. The arm that was missing was the one that had held the defender’s built-in weapons system. His rifle was nowhere in sight.

“They left you behind?” Kai called from a distance. They just left their mortally wounded behind to die, like they could care less about each other.

“Yes,” the defender said. He was in obvious pain. Maybe they were short on morphine and didn’t want to waste it on a hopeless case.

“Do you want me to, you know.” Kai touched the rifle strapped across his back.

“If you want to kill me, I can’t stop you.” The defiance, the hostility in his voice, was unmistakable.

Kai held up his hands. “Hey, I didn’t mean it as a threat. I meant, if you wanted me to do it as a favor.” Why was he talking to this stilt? Maybe it was just morbid fascination. He’d never spoken to one before. Even lying there, mortally wounded, the thing scared the shit out of him.

He took a few steps closer. “Why are we fighting? I mean, we’re supposed to be allies.”

“I’m a soldier,” the defender said, as if that were all the justification he needed.

Kai nodded. “Fair enough.”

The defender licked his thin lips.

“Do you have water?”

“No.” He sounded almost embarrassed to admit it.

Kai pulled his canteen from his belt, unscrewed the cap, took a few more steps toward the defender, and underhanded the canteen to him.

He went on his way.

As he walked, it occurred to him that this wasn’t the first time he’d provided comfort to the enemy. He laughed out loud. What was it about cold-blooded killers that brought out the maternal instinct in him? Maybe Oliver could explain it.

There must be something about him, though. How many times had he wondered why Five picked him that night? There had been thousands of people within Five’s psychic range. Tens of thousands. Yet he’d chosen Kai. What had he sensed in Kai’s mind? Was it weakness? Kindness? That Kai was an outsider?

His entire life, everything he was, hinged on Five’s decision to choose him. Kai would have died in that bathroom if Five hadn’t goaded him into making a fire. If not for Five, he never would have met his father, or Lila. There would have been no Errol. He carried the burden of being the Boy, but what was that, compared to life, a father, a wife?