Earthfall (38 page)

Rachel stared hard at Mulligan, her face carved from porcelain. Mulligan hesitated for a moment, then looked up and tried to force a smile. It died stillborn when he met Rachel’s unflinching glare.

“Do you remember how we were friends?” Mulligan asked, raw pain in his voice. “Your parents and me, we hit it off really well. You used to call me the Jolly Green Giant, because you thought I was so tall and always wore a duty uniform. Whenever I saw you in the corridor, I’d go ‘Ho, ho, ho! Rachel Lopez!’ and you’d laugh. Do you remember that?”

Rachel’s expression didn’t change, but she balled her hands into fists. As she continued to stare up at Mulligan, her knuckles were turning white. A small shudder went through her and tears rose in her eyes, but she didn’t take her eyes off of Mulligan for an instant.

“Do you remember?” Mulligan asked again, bending toward her slightly, his voice hardly more than a whisper. There was a peculiar pleading quality to the question, and Andrews realized that Mulligan—the strongest, biggest badass in Harmony Base, and maybe in the entire Army—had been dying inside for years.

When she didn’t answer, Mulligan straightened, transforming once again into the base’s enigmatic command sergeant major. “So, anyway. Your family died trying to help me rescue mine, who died because I couldn’t get to them. Somehow, the only son of a bitch who managed to walk away from it was me. God must’ve been laughing his ass off.” Mulligan’s voice was back to normal, the no-nonsense deadpan it had been for the past ten years. He displayed all the outward emotion of a robot, as if he were reading a readiness report aloud. It was as if he didn’t care anymore; he had done his job, and that was all there was to it.

Rachel lunged at him, pounding on his big chest with her fists, making small, agonized sounds as she lashed out at him. Mulligan endured it, taking no steps to defend himself. Bystanders surged forward, shocked by the sudden display. Andrews pulled Rachel away from the towering soldier, wrapping his arms around her and ignoring the jolts of pain from his tortured ribcage.

“Why?” Rachel fairly shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me this back then? Why did you let it drag on for so damn
long?
”

Mulligan looked down at her, ignoring the inquisitive looks from the other people standing nearby. His body language told them all they needed to know, and they stepped back, returning to whatever it was they had been doing before. But they kept looking toward the tall man and the crying woman, and Andrews saw expressions of sympathy among them. For Rachel. And for Mulligan.

Mulligan sighed heavily. “I should have told you. I should have tried to look after you. But I … I couldn’t. I always thought that was kind of funny, because before everything went to hell in a fast sports car, I was always a responsible guy. I always tried to do the right thing, even if it was hard. But this time, I decided to do the easy thing, and ignore what had happened to Peter and CJ. And I ignored you, and pretty much everyone else in this damned place.” He looked at her and shook his head sadly. “Anyway, that’s it. That’s all there is. Your family left you because they wanted to help me, because they thought they’d be safe, that I’d do the right thing. I wound up killing them, and I let you down when you needed me the most. I just thought you should know.” He paused for a moment, looking at Rachel. “I’m sorry. I’m so very,
very
sorry.”

“So you think I should forgive you now?” Rachel asked, her voice quavering.

Mulligan shook his head. “I just want you to remember one thing: I miss them, too. Every day.”

Mulligan turned on his heel and walked away, shoulders square, his heavy footsteps echoing in the large room. Almost everyone turned to watch him make his exit, then they turned back to Andrews and Rachel. Andrews ignored them and touched Rachel’s face, wiping away her tears.

“Sweetie …?”

She hugged him tight for a moment, then looked up at him. “I’m fine,” she said, and her voice was stronger. She wiped her eyes with the heels of her palms and smiled vaguely. “Actually, I feel better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

“Then let’s get out of here. I’m starting to feel like we’ve been on exhibit for the last few minutes.”

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

***

Leona lay in the narrow bed she had been allocated in the medical section’s recovery ward. The injury she had acquired in San Jose from the spear attack had become infected, and the base surgeon had wanted her to remain under his staff’s direct care until her fever subsided and the wound started to show substantial improvement. That had been days ago, and the fever had finally broken the previous night. Her appetite had come back, and she was thrilled to discover that not only could she now eat and not immediately throw up, she had her choice of almost anything on the menu because full power had been restored. Even if it was the same chow as what they served in the Commons Area’s commissary, she found it to be mighty tasty after enduring almost two weeks of SCEV chow, followed by a few days of not being able to eat at all.

In the bed beside her, Kelly Jordello was recovering from her own injuries. Her broken femur had been set, and her leg was in traction for the rest of the week. After that, the base surgeon would decide whether or not to insert pins to assist in her recovery. The two of them joked that since both of them had only one working leg each, the only way they could make a run for it was if they taped themselves together. They had watched the memorial service on the base’s video network, and both were feeling more than a bit melancholy. Leona was staring up at the ceiling, lost in her own thoughts when Kelly suddenly said, “Well hello, Sergeant Major.”

Leona looked up, and when she saw Mulligan standing between their beds, she felt as if her heart had jumped into her mouth. He was still in his Class As, and he held his green beret in one hand. Leona stared up at him, marveling at his attire. She couldn’t remember seeing him in anything other than his Army combat uniform.

“Lieutenant Jordello, how are you coming along?” Mulligan asked, giving Leona a quick glance before looking down at Kelly.

Kelly indicated the traction rig that held her leg suspended in the air. “Well, I’d try and get out of here, but I don’t think I’ll get very far on foot.”

Mulligan grunted. “Better stay where you are then, ma’am.”

“Sharp threads, Sarmajor. What brings you here? Bedpan patrol?”

“No, ma’am. I flunked the candy striper test. Just as well, I hated the duty uniform. Excuse us, please.” Mulligan yanked the privacy curtain between the two beds closed, hiding Kelly from view as he turned toward Leona. She looked up at him, confused.

“Sarmajor?”

Mulligan scowled at her. Combined with the mass of bruises on his face, the expression made him look positively ferocious. “Stop gaping, girl. You look like you’ve gone feeble.” Before she could make a response, he stepped closer to the bed and held out the eagle medallion to her. Leona looked at it, watching as it swayed and twinkled in the room’s antiseptic light.

“Uh, what—”

“My wife made that for me, out of a coin,” Mulligan said, cutting her off. “An Eisenhower dollar, actually. It seemed to attract your attention out in the field, and I …” He paused for a moment, then sighed. “Well, I thought you might want to have it, is all.”

“Why would you want to give it to me?”

Mulligan considered that for a long moment, then shrugged. “My day to make amends, I guess. I treated you pretty badly out in the field, and you didn’t really deserve it. Sorry.”

“Oh.” Leona looked from the medallion to Mulligan as he towered over the bed. “Well, look, Sergeant Major. I’m not going to report it or anything, because I pretty much stepped over the line …”

“So you’re not interested, then?” Mulligan asked, his voice flat.

Leona hesitated, uncertain of what to do. She couldn’t think of what to say, so she slowly raised her hand and took the medallion from him. She looked at it, turning it over in her hand. The details of the eagle were finely crafted, and even though she’d never seen such a creature before, she knew it was a symbol of strength and honor. It fit Mulligan perfectly.

“This has got to mean a lot to you, Mulligan. I mean—I’m flattered that you’d think of giving it to me, but that won’t bring absolution, you know? Your family will still be dead.” She wondered if she was saying too much; after all, the privacy curtain wasn’t exactly soundproof, and she had no trouble imagining Kelly hanging on every word.

“That’s not exactly what this is about,” Mulligan said, “but the offer stands, anyway.”

Leona regarded the medallion again, then looked up at Mulligan. He seemed different to her, now. There was something akin to humor in his eyes, and while it seemed foreign to her, it also seemed
right,
as if she was glimpsing the real Scott Mulligan for the first time. Despite his cuts and bruises, he seemed more alert, as if he’d just awakened from a very long, refreshing sleep. Leona still didn’t know what he was up to with this impromptu visit and unexpected peace offering—she couldn’t quite get her mind around the possibility that he was giving her a
gift
—but she knew what she hoped for. If this was her shot at getting it, then she had to take it.

“Thank you,” she said, hesitantly. “It’s very lovely.”

“Well, it’s not a wedding proposal or anything, so don’t mess up the sheets, okay?”

“
What?
” Leona suddenly laughed, in spite of herself. When Mulligan allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his lips, she knew he was teasing her. Humor from Scott Mulligan was something she’d have to get used to. “I wasn’t about to, Sergeant Major. But … just what
does
it mean?”

Mulligan crossed his arms and considered her question for a long moment, his gaze locked on hers. “Well, Lieutenant, I guess it means that maybe we’ll sit down and have a talk sometime, once you get out of this overblown band-aid factory. If you can make the time, that is.”

“Yeah, I think I can make the time,” Leona said automatically, and the sudden eagerness of her reply left her feeling foolish and embarrassed. She felt her face grow warm. Either her fever had returned, or she was blushing.

“Cool,” Mulligan said, and he touched her arm briefly. His hand was warm and dry, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Catch you then, and get well soon.”

With that, he swept aside the curtain. Kelly lay in her bed with her eyes closed, mouth open, so obviously pretending to be asleep that it was almost laughable. Mulligan looked down at her, shook his head with a sigh, then headed for the door.

Leona called out to him before he could make a clean getaway. “But what’ll we talk about? Force protection in post-holocaust America? Diplomacy versus firepower? Mercury in retrograde?”

Mulligan stopped at the doorway and turned back to her. He looked at her frankly, and he allowed himself a vague smile. “You’re a funny girl, Eklund. I like that. But I’ll leave the topic of conversation to you—I can’t lead all the time. See you around campus.”

Then he was gone. Leona stared at the doorway for a moment, her mind whirling.
Did Mulligan just—

“Did Mulligan just ask you out on a date?” Kelly asked, very much awake.

“I … I guess?”

Kelly smiled and clasped her hands behind her head, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, in that case, I guess you’d better get well soon, Lee. I don’t know much about these things, but I’d say the big man still has a lot of
rawr
left in him, if you get what I mean.”

Leona wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but then decided she didn’t need to know. She would find out herself. All in good time. Her gaze returned to the medallion. She studied it for a long moment, and she realized a soft smile had spread across her face.

R
epairs had been
underway for an entire month. Benchley paid attention to every detail, and ensured that Jeremy Andrews and his team of engineers had enough manpower available, not to just fix what had been broken in the earthquake, but to reinforce and strengthen the outpost’s power array. No one wanted to go through another event like the one they had just barely survived, and Benchley made it a priority for the engineers to move quickly and expeditiously. For weeks, everyone labored to put the base back together, and everyone had a hand in its restoration. Even Benchley had pulled on coveralls and spliced wire, welded piping, and serviced heavy equipment. No one was allowed any slack. Bit by bit, the station was patched up and made fully operational again.

But while Harmony Base was healing, it would bear scars for the rest of its life.

At night, in his quarters, he avoided sleep. Not because he feared his dreams—he had long since grown inured against them—but because Mike Andrews had finally delivered his mission log. And the things Benchley found in the report were shocking. Frightening. At times, even outrageous.

And most surprising of all, the report contained hope.

Unconfirmed reports of other survivors from the Northwest
. Benchley found himself circling around that again and again. That there were survivors eking out a bare existence beneath the desolate rot that had once been San Jose had been surprising enough. But the mention—the mere
rumor
—of other survivors in the Northwest, where all the models and simulations had suggested that nuclear fallout would be less than anywhere else in the nation, set his mind roaming. San Jose was their first target, of course. But after that, Benchley knew the Pacific Northwest was their next destination.