Steven Konkoly - Event Horizon

Samantha started laughing.

“The kids need you here,” said Ed. “I need you to be with the kids. The corporal said I’d be fine.”

“No offense to the corporal, but it’s not like he put you through an MRI,” Samantha snapped.

“None taken, ma’am,” said Corporal Lianez. “Best I can tell, the bullet entered his hip high on the outside, skipped off his pelvic bone and exited through his buttocks. Bleeding is normal, so I don’t think it took a deeper route through. I’ve seen enough bullet and frag wounds to tell. We’ll keep the bleeding to a minimum until we get to the hospital.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Ma’am, there’s no need to apologize. I wouldn’t trust me either.” The corporal winked. “You’re welcome to come, but I’d want my wife to stay with the kids too. Captain, if you’ll close the hatch when they’re ready?”

“Thank you,” Samantha said, hesitating to say any more.

“This is what we do—but you’re welcome,” said Lianez, climbing into the troop compartment.

“Tell the kids I love them and I’ll be back soon,” said Ed.

“I will. I love you.”

“Love you too, honey.”

“You ready?” asked Alex.

When Samantha nodded, Alex pulled Samantha to the side of the tactical vehicle. They hadn’t swept the forest for hostiles, and he didn’t want to expose her to the eastern tree line when the door swung shut.

“Be good, my friend. The marines will stay with you at the hospital and push for priority treatment. I can’t imagine they have too many gunshot wounds, so it won’t be a problem. If it is, I’ll have the battalion commander press down on the hospital. Probably see you tomorrow.”

“Watch over the kids for me,” said Ed.

“Like a hawk,” said Alex.

“Like your own.”

Alex nodded. “I think you pulled off number three in there today.”

“Number three?”

“Three times you’ve saved my ass.”

“That didn’t count,” said Ed.

“No?”

“Everyone racked up at least ten ass-savings in there. We’ll keep the tally at two.”

“Fair enough. I still owe you. Keep those two from killing each other,” he said and shut the rear hatch.

Alex opened the left passenger door, figuring he had to say something to the Thorntons. He knew he’d probably regret it.

“Why do I have to go to the hospital? I’m fine,” Charlie insisted. “You need help here, and I can still get around.”

Alex looked at Linda, who shook her head and mumbled, “Idiot.”

“You have a bullet hole in your leg, Charlie,” said Alex.

“So what?”

“Morphine kicked in, Linda?”

“Something kicked in. Feels like a bad ankle sprain,” she said, wincing when she accidentally moved her foot.

“Better than before?”

“You have no idea.”

“Lianez, you should probably figure out a way to suspend her leg.”

“I can do that, sir.”

“Don’t bother. We’re not that far away,” Linda said.

“It’s her call, Lianez,” said Alex.

“It’s always her call,” grumbled Charlie.

Alex met the corporal’s stare through the rear passenger seats. He didn’t look happy.

“We’ll watch over your flock. You did good in there,” said Alex, closing the door before they could respond.

Alex pounded on the hood and gave the driver a thumbs-up before running into the house, keeping himself between the woods and Samantha. Once inside, they found the adults in the kitchen with two of the marines. His mother stood at the basement door with her shotgun.

“Where’s Ryan?” he asked.

“He won’t leave his post until the forest is cleared. Alyssa and Sydney are watching the east.”

“The rest of the kids?”

“In the basement, under lock and key until the farm is safe,” said Amy.

Alex nodded at his mom, who looked all business. “I guess we should take care of that sooner than later. Staff Sergeant?”

“You sure you don’t want to sit this one out, sir? You look like you’re about to fall over,” said Evans.

Alex knew he should take a seat and close his eyes, probably for the next twelve hours, but he couldn’t rest until he felt reasonably confident that their property was secure. Even then, they faced a full day of work just to put the house back into rough working order.

“I’ve looked and felt like that for the better part of seventy-two hours. I’ll survive a few more,” he said.

Tim Fletcher opened one of the pouches attached to his web belt, exposing two fully loaded magazines. “I’m ready when you are,” he said.

“Tim, you’ve had enough. Let the marines handle this,” said Amy.

Tim pulled the brim of his hat down, exposing the faded Eagle, Globe and Anchor symbol on its starched face.

“Never mind,” Amy said.

“Keep a watch in every direction,” said Alex.

“Be careful. Don’t take any chances. Not after this,” she said, glancing around at the mess.

“I’ll be good,” he said and kissed her dusty lips.

“We’ll radio back with our locations. I want to test the motion detectors. Some of the transceivers were knocked onto the floor, but I didn’t see any bullet holes. Wish I could say the same for the monitors.”

“We’ll check the transceivers and put them back in order,” said Kate.

Alex nodded. “One last question. Did any of the toilets survive?”

“The one in the master bedroom,” said Tim.

Alex looked toward the stairs. “I guess I’ll take my chances out there.”

EVENT+78:26

Porter, Maine

Eli adjusted the Bronco’s passenger-side vents to direct the cool air in his face. Nearly two hours later, he was still running hot from the half-mile dash through the forest in Limerick. He looked up from his GPS receiver and watched for the turnoff to Camp Hiawatha.

“Turn up here at the camp,” said Eli, pointing to a rustic sign on the right side of the road.

His driver eased the SUV off Route 160 and drove them through a worn flagstone entrance. The dirt road gently wove through the dense forest, until they arrived at a two-story post-and-beam structure, which he guessed to be the main activities lodge. The road looped in front of the lodge, designed as a drop-off area for campers. A pickup truck and a small bumper-sticker-covered sedan sat in the back of a shaded dirt parking lot situated across the road from the lodge. Beyond the presence of these two vehicles, the camp appeared deserted, which suited him fine.

“No kids, huh?” he asked.

The driver started to open his mouth, but thought better of it. An even more uncomfortable silence hung in the truck’s cabin. He’d made it clear to Bertelson’s men that if they didn’t have anything useful to say, they shouldn’t say anything at all. They were on probation simply by association with their fuck-up of a dead squad leader. The slightest infraction of discipline or demonstration of incompetence would put them in front of a firing squad. Throughout the trip north, the four men had remained silent, dutifully watching their surroundings. It was amazing what a little leadership and a healthy dose of fear could do for the troops.

“Let me clarify something. If I ask a question, I expect an answer. As long as it’s an answer and not some excuse to run your suck. Now, does anyone know why this place is empty?”

The driver, a serious-looking soldier type wearing thick-rimmed, corrective glasses, glanced at him and nodded. “I think most of these camps break up after the second week of August. The cars might belong to the camp director or something,” he said, slowing the vehicle as they entered the loop.