Tribulation (18 page)

Sam walked back
to the truck, his mind already whirling. Not only had Adam
reappeared, but it seemed he also had some momentous news. He would
have to be patient though - Adam did things in his own time.

Over at the
truck, some of the uniforms were swarming all over it, presumably
making sure no demons or demon worshippers were concealed inside.
He found Mike and Olivia in the back of the truck with the others
where they had been relegated to by the soldiers.

He stood
looking up at them for a moment, at a loss for the right words as
usual. Olivia came to his rescue.

“Thank you,
Sam,” she said. Something about the way she was looking at him told
him she knew more than she was saying. “I know you risked your life
to save us, and I owe you for that. I’m sure the others do too.”
Mike and a few other faces he could see in the early morning light
were smiling.

“Yep, thanks,
buddy,” chirped Mike.

Sam nodded.
Even if he had the words, he probably wouldn’t have replied. There
was nothing to be said really. He saved them because it was his
duty. His promise. For once, the people he rescued were thankful
and that was a gratifying change. He didn’t want to dwell on the
reception he would receive if they knew of his true nature. Even
the fleeting thought soured the otherwise positive encounter. Mike
threw him his pack and he turned away without another word. From
what Adam was saying, it was doubtful whether he’d actually see
these people again and he felt slightly sad at the thought. Even
though he hadn’t got to know most of them very well, he would’ve
liked to. Especially Mike and Olivia. For him, friends were in
short supply.

“There’s
disease treatment here as well,” he finally said awkwardly, just
for something to say. He knew that all of them would be checked out
as a matter of course but the words just blurted out. Some of them
would probably not last much longer if not treated with
antibiotics. Even in the last day or so, he’d noticed the disease
taking a turn for the worst with a few of them – their fingers and
noses starting to blacken. He was surprised that all of them didn’t
have it. Clearly, some were more resistant than others. Either
that, or immune like himself.

Adam was still
waiting for him at the gates, jigging impatiently. He hustled Sam
through and along a road broken up by a series of armed
checkpoints. Sam knew from experience that most people coming
through here would be checked for disease, too. This was one army
base that was taking its security and the spread of contagion very
seriously. There was no way he would’ve got through this checkpoint
without Adam – especially armed as he was. The soldiers all looked
at him curiously as he walked past and it was no wonder. He was,
after all, a bit of an oddity. A tall, athletically-built youth,
still with his hood on and armed to the teeth with swords.

Some of the
soldiers saluted as they went past. At first, Sam failed to
recognize the importance of this and then it occurred to him to
ask.

“Are you an
officer?” he said to Adam, turning slightly towards the older man
as they walked.

Adam nodded. He
pointed to his collar. “See this?” Sam could see a golden oak leaf
on each collar. “I’m a Major now. When you first met me, I was only
a Captain. I got promoted on account of everyone else being dead or
elsewhere. Hence the saluting.”

“I didn’t
know,” confessed Sam.

“That’s because
you never asked.” The expression on Sam’s face must have become
even blanker than usual because Adam slapped him lightly on the
shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I don’t exactly volunteer
information. I think the only thing I told you was that I was in
the special forces. That bit was true. I didn’t mention that I was
retired though.”

Sam nodded. All
true of course. Adam wasn’t the sort of person who would ever lie
to him. He was just a bit like him - not very communicative. That
was probably why Sam liked him so much.

“So what
happened?” asked Sam. “You know, at Black Ridge?”

Adam grimaced.
“Long story. I’ll tell you later. Right now, I think someone wants
to see you. Then rest, shower. I’ve got a meeting scheduled with
you and my C.O at 0800 hours.” Judging from the light, Sam guessed
it to be between five and six am, the dull light causing him to
squint as his eyes were quite sensitive to light.

They were
walking past a long barracks hall when Adam stopped abruptly. “I’ll
leave you here. Go right on inside, and meet me later at the
command center.”

Before Sam
could ask any more questions, Adam turned his back on him and
strolled off. Sam watched him retreat for a while and then
shrugged. He was pretty sure why Adam had left him here.

The barrack was
one of many identical structures that were ubiquitous on any Army
base - long and low, its construction simple enough that a platoon
of soldiers could probably set one up within hours. Sam could see
several just in this general vicinity although this one was more
familiar than the others.

Entering
through the main door, he found himself inside the sleeping area.
Cot after cot was laid out, all neatly made with a blanket at the
end of each bed. Every single one of them was empty except for one.
Sam almost didn’t notice at first and then a familiar mind tone
intruded. He yanked his neck in that direction.

Sitting on the
bed at the far end of the barracks was a figure that Sam knew at a
glance was female. The curve of the hip and shoulder simply
couldn’t belong to a man. The long dark hair he recognized, tied
back behind her neck but still achingly familiar to Aimi’s. He knew
without doubt that it wasn’t hers. It was Grace’s hair.

On suddenly
slightly awkward legs, he made his way towards her. He’d not made
the slightest noise so Sam was taken off guard when she suddenly
turned towards him when he was only a bed’s length away from
her.

“Hello, Sam.
Welcome back,” Grace said, not quite managing to look him in the
eye. Sam took her appearance in with a glance. She couldn’t be
older than eighteen or nineteen, but she looked older than that -
more weary and lined, with deep scars on her face. More ugly scars
were evident on her exposed arms. But that was understandable.
She’d been through far more than any other teenage girl could ever
be expected to go through, emerging somewhat altered from what Sam
remembered. She’d always been a little bitter and angry but this
was something else. Something that Sam almost felt a kinship
with.

“Hi, Grace.”
Neither of them made a move, even though they hadn’t seen each
other for months. Grace had once been slightly tactile towards him
but those days were long gone. Sam didn’t mind too much. His
personal space had already been violated once today.

There was a
long, slightly uncomfortable pause. “So. How did it go? Did your
rescue work out or did they get dragged off to Hell?”

Sam remained
calm, not willing for this scene to get ugly. He wouldn’t allow her
to bait him. “I got them,” he said. “Or most of them.”

“Oh,” she said,
raising one arched eyebrow and smirking. “Lose a few in the
process, did you? That must be hard. Like you’re not in enough
trouble in Heaven. I don’t think they’ll ever let you in if you
keep allowing people to be taken. It’s not much fun in Hell.” Her
expression turned bitter. “I should know.”

Even though
he’d saved her, she’d never let him forget that he’d not only
allowed her to be taken in the first place, but he’d left her to
rot in Hell for months after. It was not like he blamed her either.
He did feel like he’d failed her somehow. He knew he’d done his
best for her, but his best had not been good enough. That was why
he didn’t allow her barbs to anger him. If he was going to get
angry at someone, it should be himself.

“One of them
died from the plague. Then I found us a truck. An Astaroth came out
of the sky and grabbed one from the back.”

Grace nodded as
if expecting nothing less. “Have you seen Adam yet?” she asked. Sam
was surprised. He was sure that she’d milk his failure for a bit
longer yet. It was positively diplomatic of her to change tact so
quickly. Maybe she was having one of her rare good days.

“Yep. He met me
at the gate. Probably saved my life. The guards are even more
trigger happy than usual these days.”

“Do you know
where he’s been all this time?”

Sam shook his
head. “No. He’s going to tell me later. I have to go to a briefing
in the command center later.”

She shrugged.
“Fine. Some of your stuff is still in the locker down the back
there. I suppose you want to wash some of the ash off you. After
that, we can go and get some food and talk about old times.” Sam
could hardly bear to see what approximated a smile on Grace’s face
these days. At least she was trying though. There was no doubt,
however, that their once strong relationship was now strained. They
hadn’t seen each other for months, almost like they had been
avoiding contact. Often when Sam returned from a mission, she’d be
gone, conveniently out on patrol. Her time in Hell had taken its
toll. She would never really forgive him for taking so long to
rescue her and he’d never really be able to forgive himself
either.

Sam took her
advice. He found his old towel and some soap in the locker. The
shower cubicle was big enough to hold ten soldiers, making Sam
experience an odd feeling of exposure as he soaped himself down. It
was very pleasant to have a shower though. He hadn’t had one in
weeks and it was good to wash away the accumulated grime, dirt and
ash and blood. If only it could do the same for his guilt.

These days,
this place was the closest he had to home. A base of operations,
though he hadn’t been here since he deposited Grace there years
before. Like Grace, the commander, Colonel Wheat, knew of his
half-demonic nature. Now that Adam had arrived, they were the only
three on the base that did. Both Sam and Colonel Wheat wanted to
keep it that way, too. It worked to the benefit of both of them.
Sam often had some survivors in tow, like now, or good intel that
the Colonel could use in future operations. Sam liked to work alone
in any case. He didn’t plan to give the Colonel too many details in
case the man insisted that they mount a proper operation. The
Colonel would’ve argued (Sam had to admit – probably rightly), that
this nest of demon worshippers was too big and too well established
for just one man – or half man – to take out by himself. In this
case, he’d almost been right, too.

Sam stayed
under the warm deluge for several minutes, luxuriating in so much
water. He didn’t have to worry about using too much. The base was
sitting on top of a massive underground spring of unpolluted water.
That was one of the reasons why this place had been a prize worth
keeping when so many other bases had been lost or abandoned almost
without a fight. The top brass realized that the survival of those
who had been left behind depended on a secure base with access to
plentiful resources. Beightler Armory provided that. Not only that,
but it was well stocked with weapons. The only thing it really
lacked was more soldiers but new recruits, just like the ones that
Sam had rescued, were coming in every other day.

Regretfully, he
dragged himself from out of the shower and toweled himself off. As
he was finishing off, Grace came in and leaned causally against the
door frame. He was slightly shocked by such behavior but then,
Grace had seen him naked before. That had been accidental. This was
deliberate. He tried to cover himself up but thought he detected
admiration in her gaze as it wandered over his sleek hard body,
lingering on the various scars that he’d accumulated over the
years. There was not an ounce of fat on him. Periodic access to
food, relentless training and activity had ensured that his body
was comprised only of lean muscle.

“So how many?”
she asked, dragging her eyes back to his face.

“About a
dozen,” he managed to reply, instinctively knowing what she was
talking about.

“Where were
they?”

“Caged like
animals. Some demon worshippers had them. Using them like
cattle.”

Grace nodded
grimly. Sam saw her fist clench. They shared a common hatred
against demon worshippers. He’d taken her out on a mission once
where they’d uncovered a similar but smaller nest. Sam hadn’t much
enjoyed her expression as she’d killed every one of them she could.
She’d smiled when she did it too.

He turned his
back on her and finished drying himself off, then dressed quickly.
Lastly, he toweled his hair dry, enjoying the pleasant sensation of
having his hair exposed and clean. He put his hood back up and then
strapped on his swords.

Grace watched
him the whole time, but stayed silent, probably thinking about
demon worshippers and what she’d like to do to them.

“Ready?” she
asked eventually. Sam nodded and followed her out of the barracks
and over to the mess hall, a good five minute walk away. They
walked in silence which was absolutely fine with Sam. He really
didn’t feel like talking.

The mess hall
was not too dissimilar to a barracks building, but about twice the
size. Inside, about thirty or so people sat at tables scattered
about the large open space. Sam heard his stomach growl when he
caught a whiff of the food bubbling in the large pots at the
serving counter. Although he didn’t need much food, eating - like
having a hot shower - was one of those rare pleasures that he
looked forward to.

Currently,
there were only a couple of people queuing up to be served. The
cook, dressed in what had once been a white apron but now looked as
grey as the ash outside, was stirring a pot without enthusiasm.
Ignoring the stares from the other diners, he and Grace marched up
to the counter, grabbed a tray and a plate each and received two
boiled potatoes and a ladle of stew. It didn’t look like much, but
as they took their places at an unoccupied table, Sam felt his
mouth watering.