36. God's soldier

Kira.

We watched in stunned silence as Saia's body arched in the air. My body froze, my finger tensed against the trigger. Draco was too far away, sprinting, barreling through other Berserkers, but nowhere near. I couldn't... I didn't have my eye.

Tohka swung her rifle around and popped off a volley of shots at Skull. I was about to shout at her to stop, to stop raining down bronze, to stop filling the air with moon grade gun powder. She was going to hit Saia. But she didn't. She hit Skull, none of the rounds pierced his skin, but they made him stumble.

Enough of a stumble to drop Saia right into Draco's arms.

Tohka slapped me and shouted, "What the hell are you staring at?" She took aim at Skull. "Get your ass in gear."

Get your ass in gear. Huh. I wonder where I've heard that before.

I took aim as well, slamming in a new clip. The scope was nowhere near as good as my eye, but it would have to do. But for how long? We didn't have the ammo horde like the Church, and we definitely didn't have the manpower. And Dan. Grace had him, and the longer she had him, the more shit hits the fan.

"Herd him to the right," I told Tohka.

"Got it."

Skull stumbled again as Tohka raged gunfire to his right. One step to the right, and I shot. It skimmed him, deathly close to point-blank. Deep breathe in, deep breathe out, and another shot. It nicked his ear. Good. He darted to the right to avoid my sharper shots; only to be met with Tohka's fire.

Headshot, and nothing else.

I squared my stance, pressed the rifle into my shoulder, and zoned in on Skull. There, right in the other eye. The eye I hadn't blinded – right in my crosshairs.

Time slowed – Draco's bellows an echo, the Berserkers tearing through the Orphanage a distant rumble. Tohka's muzzle flash illuminated her sharp features. The gun, so long, so heavy in my arms, bucked. And it almost made me salivate. The click, the hiss, and finally the bang. So loud I cringed for the first time in years.

And as the bullet split the air, trailing vortices, an axe flew and met Skull's neck. Snapping his head to the left. My bullet snapped his head backwards. He swayed, took a shaky step forward, and finally dropped. The ground rumbled, his heavy body throwing even more dirt into the air.

"That's…an axe," Tohka muttered, her dark eyes glimmering. "He's here."

"And so is Hera."

She walked, almost floated, her way down the road. Her soldiers, a much smaller number than they used to be, picked off Berserkers, rounds barking, earth shuddering gunfire erupted from them. Her eyes, brown for once, glowed in the sun's rising light. Her desert eagles strapped to each thigh, white nails like diamonds.

I swung my rifle onto my shoulder and yanked Tohka off the perch. "C'mon, kids first. She'll deal with the Berserkers."

Tohka nodded and followed, strapping her gun to her back.

A lot of the Orphanage had collapsed in on itself. I froze at the sight of a body; so small, twisted and trapped underneath a chunk of rubble. My ears rang, my mouth beyond bitter. Another, her hand still clutching a doll. A kid, twisted beyond recognition, lay underneath a chunk of rock. My heart thumped, pounding in my head. No. They…these bastards had done this. They'd killed them.

I turned my back to the children and un-slung my rifle. "Tohka. Do me a favour. Make sure the others get to the bunker. It's underground, Anne should be there."

Before she could rebuttal or grab my arm, I stepped over the perch and dropped over its side. I rolled as soon as I hit the ground, clicked off the safety, and aimed at the closest Berserker. An ugly bastard with scars running down his body. One-shot at his knee to buckle him, the next in the eye socket. He collapsed, and I followed up with another shot in his eye socket.

I continued in a daze. A daze I hadn't been in since Dan fell off the bridge. The same haze I used to wake up in and go to sleep in. Letting the gun take over, letting its mechanism tell me when to step forward and when to roll. Reload, cool down, and back to killing. Slaughtering. They fell, shaking the ground, the sound a faraway echo.

It almost felt good. A comfort. Scratch that; it felt fucking great. The gun's rage, mowing down the bastards in numbers. Bang! A bullet in an eye socket. Another bark, another face shattered. Blood, dirty, grimy, disgusting blood flew. It stank, making my stomach swim. But I continued until the gun burnt my palm. Until its heat made me wince every time I came close to it. It was an animal, shouting at my command, killing on my mark, peppering bodies with bronze.

This had been a long time coming. Stewing disgust and anger ever since Jin threw Dan off the bridge. Ever since I'd stopped going on bounty hunts. Ever since I drank myself into near unconsciousness and balanced precariously on my balcony. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy killing sometimes, and right now, it made me feel amazing. It made me feel worthwhile. Alive.

A chill jarred me out of my trance. A gun barrel pressed against my neck; its sharp click caught my breath. I spun around, rifle level at…at Hera.

She shook her head, swaying her braids, disappointment heavy in her hazel brown eyes. "You aren't going down that path. Not at this age."

The ringing in my ears ebbed away, the locked-in focus of my left eye panned out – the world coming back into view and not just my rifle. Berserkers, hoards of them, lay dead around me. I stood on top of one, his heart still beating; a laboured beat one after the other.

I couldn't find the words. I choked on the rancid smell of death, clinging to the dust-filled air around us. My hands, burnt at their creases, ached. My fingernails were caked in grime. I caught a glimpse of my face on a shard of glass – my platinum hair in clumps, stuck together by blood and dirt.

The Berserker below me reached up, his arm shaking towards the light. Hera's gun barked, and his hand dropped. She gestured. Drawing a cross over her chest. Since when did she…

"Kira," she said, her voice so thick. "Don't dwell on it right now. We still have work to do." She…hugged me. An uncomfortable chill ran through my body as she whispered, "But I am glad you are alright. Please forgive my short sighted planning."

I was still buzzing, the adrenaline still forcing my heart into rampaging beats. But this was…weird. You couldn't read Hera's eyes on a normal day. Hell, you didn't know if you were going to either piss her off or make her chuckle most times. But she was so open, warm for once, not cold like she had been. And not just because of her metal arm and leg, but her eyes were…soft can't be it.

She had Hunter's eyes. Tired but sharp. Darkness in their edges, but light in their irises.

She pulled away, her overwhelming presence snatching away the last of my adrenaline. I suddenly felt tired, laboured. The rifle was too heavy, the dirt clinging onto my body too great. I couldn't bring myself to look at the Orphanage or what was left of it. Please, to whoever was looking down on us. Good or bad, make sure the kids are okay. That's all I ask – I can deal with my own nightmares, but I don't want them to deal with theirs.

Hunter came towards us, thick hair tucked behind his ears, mask hanging around his neck. Bloody axes strapped to his thighs. "Jeez. I thought Hera was good with a gun, but you…." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "At least two people in the Fallow would be good with guns."

"Excuse me?" The words didn't click. My brain functioned slowly, like the clattering rubble that came off the ruined Orphanage. What did he mean two?

Hera put a hand on his shoulder; it lingered there before she pulled away. "It isn't the time, Hunter."

He chuckled and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, my bad." He looked just like Dan, same smile, same innocent voice, and that pale green eye.

"Hera—"

"Abigail, now," she said. "I'd like my real name more."

There was a glimmer in her eyes. What the hell happened? "Uh, yeah sure…Abigail. Have you already…"

Hunter answered, "If you're asking if we've gone to get Dan, no. We haven't. We decided to come here first." He waved a hand at the bodies and the remains of the Orphanage. Its site a sharp blow to my gut. "Good thing we did."

"He's at Young Haven," Tohka said. She'd cautiously weaved her way towards us, staying a distance away from Hunter.

"Is that information we can trust?" Hera…Abigail said. Her eyes were sharp.

Tohka nodded and avoided her gaze. "Yeah. At least, as far as I know." She tapped against the rifle. "You aren't going to ask how I know?"

Abigail shook her head. "I had my suspicions about you from the start." She crossed her arms and looked Tohka up and down. "My educated guess would be you wanted to save Dan by double crossing Grace. Evidently, you buckled at the point of decision, and now we're on the back foot because of that."

Tohka's shoulders sagged; the bags under her eyes seemed to grow. "I know, and I'm sorry."

"How did you guess that?" I asked. "You weren't there."

Hunter cleared his throat. "I came up with that guess, actually."

"And I had to string it together into a coherent thought," Abigail added. "But if she's to be believed, then this will be an enormous task. Considering our dwindled task."

"And that would mean a few of us would have to get a ton more equipment," Hunter said. "Only the Island has that now. Or what's left of it, at least."

"What happens when we finally get to Young Haven?" Tohka asked.

Nobody wanted to say it. The thought hung in the air between us. Dan. If Grace had him then would any one of us be able to make that decision? Would we all buckle at the point of decision? Kill him to save everyone else, or try and work out how to get Dan back.

If he can come back.

Sergeant Ryan cleared his throat. "Ma'am."

"Yes?"

"We're picking up radio chatter."

"Radio chatter?" she muttered, crossing her fine eyebrows. "Who would be contacting us?"

Hunter said, "What ever happened to those two girls. Shouldn't they be back yet?"

"Runt and Cleo," I said, thinking out loud. "That's the radio chatter."

The slick silver radio buzzed, pulsing static for a while. Until, finally, after an entire minute, a voice came through. "Hey, old lady! Can you hear us? God, the one time the bitch of a Lieutenant Colonel—"

"Private," Sergeant Ryan said. "We can hear you."

"Oh…well…we found the Nomads. We're with their leader right now. Out for about another few hours."

"Their leader?" Abigail said. "Let me speak to them, Cleo."

"Hey, Abigail," an unfamiliar voice said. "Been a while, huh, kiddo?"

Hunter froze, his muscles suddenly tense. He choked, the words finally dribbling out of his mouth, "Mum?"