Time Salvager (Time Salvager #1)(129)
The pain James felt right then was worse than anything else he had suffered that night. If it wasn’t for Elise holding him up, he might have collapsed. His hands shook as he fought to stay upright. Elise, looking worried, wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed tightly. Before Levin could take off, James called out to him, “You sacrificed a lot tonight. I know; I won’t forget.”
“Just succeed,” Levin replied, “and it won’t matter.”
James knew that he would probably never see him again. Maybe it was finally time to bury the hatchet. He put his left hand on the auditor’s shoulder and held out his right. “Look, all these years. About Landon. I held the grudge for way too long. I forgive you.”
Levin turned and stared at the extended hand, and then at his face. “Fuck you, James.” Then Levin Javier-Oberon flew up to the waiting collie and disappeared into the night sky. The three of them stood there and watched the sky long after the last of the ships had disappeared.
“What did you mean by ‘sacrificed’?” Elise asked.
Grace exchanged a knowing look with James. “Come, there’s been enough death today. Let’s find the living.”
The three of them ventured deep into the tunnels, searching for signs of the Elfreth in hiding, checking several of the known spots to little avail. It wasn’t until an hour later, as they wandered through an abandoned subway tunnel, that they made contact. Two guards, perched in a hidden alcove above a passageway, hailed them.
Minutes later, half a dozen more guards approached, and James noted that all the weapons were leveled at him. So much for all the trust he had built up over the past few months. Not that he blamed them. These people had been living in relative peace until he and Elise came along and brought a war to their doorsteps. Who knew how many of their people were dead? He corrected himself. Now they were his people too. He owed them his complete loyalty after tonight.
The group led him down through twists and underground intersections, through hidden holes, abandoned buildings, once wading chest-deep through a submerged facility.
They were all exhausted by the time they reached the survivors holed up in a long cavernous underground train station. The entire camp was one large triage, with dozens of the injured and dying lying in neat rows. The air smelled of oil, sweat, and death. Random cries and groans, and the occasional wail, pierced the air. Still, it was very organized. On the left side of the entrance, James saw children, some as young as ten, working in teams of three or four, dragging the bodies of the dead to a crevice and rolling them in. Sadly, there was no other way to take care of the dead.
To their right, a pile of supplies was hastily stacked in the corner. One of the surviving Old Ones kept watch over it and doled out what little the Elfreth had to those who needed it. Again, it was the children who took the brunt of the heavy lifting. It didn’t take James more than a glance to know that most of them were going hungry tonight. If that small stockpile was all that they had left, all of them would probably be dead within a few months.
James walked past the makeshift hospital, looking down at the rows of the injured lying on blankets, some bleeding badly, others with broken limbs, and more than a few near death. The attack had been brutal. He had been in enough battles to recognize the extent of the injuries. More than half of the people lying here wouldn’t survive the night.
His eyes strayed to find Rima frantically trying to bandage a woman with her sides gashed open. James recognized it as a kinetic coil wound. The woman coughed, blood pouring out of her mouth and her seeping wounds. The girl grabbed another spool of precious gauze and wrapped it around her waist even tighter. Moments later, the eyes of the woman rolled up in her head, and she stopped moving.
Sobbing, Rima moved on to the next body. He realized then that these people had no idea what they were doing. Any trained medic would have recognized that the woman could not be saved. Rima had wasted precious supplies on a lost cause. Supplies these people didn’t have much of.
James looked around the room. There were five elderly tribespeople standing around, trying to keep the people organized, and approximately ten children younger than fifteen. Most of the able-bodied were dead or injured. The elderly were too few and slow to control the people while the young were clueless. There was no one in charge. Where were Qawol and Franwil?
They saw Chawr lying against the far wall, an ugly red gash running from the side of his face down to his waist. He held his right arm with his left as a little boy tended to him. His face, contorted in pain, brightened when he saw them. He waved. “Elder Elise, I told you no one could kill Chawr.” He grimaced when the boy tried to set his broken arm.
Elise ran and embraced the young man, her eyes wet. She returned a few moments later, seemingly overwhelmed by the sight of so many injured people laid out in lines along the floor. She closed her eyes and gathered herself. She took a deep breath and knelt down next to Rima to tend to one of the injured near the center of the cavern. She looked up at James to let him know that she was going to remain there. James let her be and moved further down the tunnel, stepping over the rows of bodies that filled the room.
Grace leaned into James. “This place is so disorganized. It’s the headless leading the dumb out here.” She tapped one of the children on the head and spoke in the Elfreth’s language. “Excuse me, child, where is Oldest Qawol?”
The child’s face fell and she looked away at the small crowd gathered around a body nearby. There, Qawol lay bloodied, taking in short quick breaths as he struggled to speak. His long gray hair was singed off and half of his body was badly burned. James’s first thought was that the towels and manpower being spent on Qawol could be better spent on the rest of the injured who might have a chance to survive. A small group of natives huddled around Qawol, holding vigil as they continued to place wet towels over him.