Jackson Ford - Random Sh*t Flying Through the Air

She’s about to tell him that the building will be locked, but then, so was the car.

As far as he needs to go .

Matthew pops the door, climbing out of the car.

“Is it him?”

I’m so focused on the approaching car that I don’t realise Burr is right next to me until he speaks. I start in surprise, jogging my view through the scope.

The radio crackles – Grayson this time, one of the snipers. “Delta One, Alpha, we see the vehicle too. No clear view of the occupants. Over.”

“Can you see inside?” Burr asks us.

“Nothing yet,” Annie replies.

Let it not be them. Let be literally anybody else. Let it be the camp owner coming to check up on the place or something, I don’t care .

The problem is, that will mean Matthew isn’t here. It’ll mean he’s somewhere else, maybe getting ready to turn Cascadia loose.

The car takes an age to come to a stop. There’s a woman driving it, although I can’t see her face from here. Someone in the passenger seat, too. A child.

The car parks at an angle, the hood pointing at the far corner of the building. The engine cuts, leaving the camp in silence. Okoro is made of stone. Garcia too. The only sound is Burr’s breathing. No – there’s my own heart, thundering in my ears.

The passenger door opens. It’s on the other side of the car from where I am, so I can’t quite see who climbs out. But the driver’s side is in full view, and as the door opens, Annie sucks in a very quick breath.

It’s her. Amber-Leigh Schenke. No question about it. And there, getting out the car, his face just visible around the edge of the windshield…

“Delta One, Alpha. I do not have a clear line to target. He’s blocked by the car.”

“Don’t worry.” Okoro’s voice is as soft as a snake sliding through grass. “I got him.”

“Okoro, hold,” Burr says. “Frost, can you see him?” His voice quietly urgent. No jokes now. No freak show jabs.

I let a long, shaky breath. A big cloud of white vapour. This is happening. This is really fucking happening.

“Cruz,” Burr says to Annie. “What do you see?”

“It’s him,” Annie replies.

“You’re sure?”

“Damn right I’m sure.”

Little kid with a soccer ball approaches a checkpoint…

“Frost?”

There’s no denying it. It’s Matthew. His face is seared into my mind. He’s standing dead still by the car, almost sniffing the air, gazing around the campground. He glances at the building without interest, looks away.

Four years old. Definitely no older than that. What was I like when I was four? Had I even started reading yet?

There’s a coppery taste in my mouth. Bitter. I swear the pounding in my ears has gotten louder. And at the edges of my mind, Carlos, begging me to help him.

“Delta One, Alpha. Still no clear view to target. I can attempt a shot through the car itself, but—”

“Alpha, this is Delta,” says Burr. “Stand down. Secondary has the target.” To me: “I need an answer. I know you can see him – do we have the right kid?”

Matthew looks in my direction. I don’t think he can see me, not really – but his face changes, just a little. A narrowing of the eyes, a tightening of the mouth. The fear jumps, like I’ve touched an electric wire. Now it’s not just Carlos in my head. It’s Paul, too, dropping into the earth.

Someone is going to die here. Right now. And it’s going to happen because of me.

“ Frost .”

“…Yes.”

I don’t realise I’ve spoken aloud at first, not until Burr says, “Again?”

“Yeah. That’s him.”

Burr doesn’t waste time. “Okoro. Green light. Execute.”

Okoro exhales very softly and squeezes the trigger.

Inside the cabin, the gunshot sounds like the end of the world.

Okoro is a god-level sniper. No one lies that still and is that focused unless they’ve had the kind of training to make the shot, no matter what.

Problem is, no matter what doesn’t take psychokinesis into account.

It doesn’t take into account someone reaching over and, in the split-second before you fire, giving your gun barrel the tiniest little tap.

I told myself I wouldn’t do it. And I kept thinking that up until the moment I did it. I knew I could end this, right here, right now – this whole fucking nightmare, all of it – just by doing nothing. And until I moved Okoro’s aim a fraction of an inch off-centre, that’s exactly what I planned to do.

I guess some things are hardwired into me. No matter what the stakes, no matter how important it is, I can’t kill a kid.

The bullet blows a huge chunk out of the ground beyond him, setting off a landmine of dirt. He whips his head round, ducks on instinct. His mom is looking everywhere at once, eyes wide. The gunshot echoes through the trees.

“Shit.” Okoro’s voice is no longer soft. It’s husky, ragged. She rips the bolt back, chambering another round.

Oh boy. I may not have made the best decision here.

Matthew’s head whips back towards the cabin… and looks straight at me. Sees me. I don’t why I’m the one he focuses on, but his face twists into the worst expression I’ve ever seen.

Anger. Hatred. Rage .

“Shit!” says Annie.

I yell, “ Everybody down! ”

A huge wave of earth explodes in front of the cabin. That’s what it looks like: a wave. Ten feet tall, fifty across, ripping out of the ground with a sound like God clearing his throat. The kid and his mom vanish from view, and then the windows of the camp building explode inward, showering us with dirt and glass.

Annie and I roll off the table. I hit the floor hard, yelping in pain as my shoulder takes the impact. Burr is shouting orders, but I can only just make them out. Grayson’s voice over the radio, urgent, heated. “Delta? Do you copy?”

The wave of dirt has become a hurricane, fragments of rock and soil ripping through the air. They’re moving so fast that there are rocks embedding themselves in the walls, the smaller ones shattering completely. The racks of trail mix and sleeping bags go to pieces, toppling over, spilling their contents.

Garcia has been knocked right off the table. Okoro, however, is still there. She’s hunkered down, gritting her teeth against the storm, her face scratched and bloody. Eye to the scope. I don’t hear her, but I see her mouth move. “Got you, motherf—”

Something shoots through the window, and hits her in the head.

It’s not a rock, or a chunk of dirt. It’s more like a battering ram – one made of soil. But it’s twisting and writhing, curving as it punches through the window, like a tentacle. Okoro’s head snaps back, and she tumbles off her sniper nest.

I have to fix this. I sent us down this path, so I’m the one who has to find a way off it. And I need to do it before anyone else gets hurt – this whole situation is already deeply fucked.

Annie moves in a leopard crawl to cover, heading for the thick wooden counter, frantically gesturing at me to follow. I ignore her, getting to my knees, then doing a roadie run for the door. It’s wide open, blown back off its hinges. My mouth and eyes fill with dust, flecks of dirt and rock shredding my skin. Like fighting through the world’s worst sandstorm.

I have no idea where Burr is, what’s happened to Okoro or Garcia. I just know that I’ve got to get out there. Nobody else has to die today.

There’s another wave of earth roaring towards the building. It’s even bigger than the first one. And here’s me, standing in the open doorway, goggling at it like a damn tourist.