Illuminae (The Illuminae Files #1)(30)

“Hush, baby, it’s okay. You’re all right now, Uncle Jimmy’s got you.”

He’d have made a good dad, McNulty.

I don’t know where she had the shiv. Up her sleeve. In her dress. I caught a glimpse of silver, a flash of red. McNulty roared as the blade punched through his hazmat suit and the ballistics weave underneath. Those vests are built to take a knife from a charging gorilla or a point-blank burst from a heavy rifle. God knows where she got the strength.

McNulty shouted, throwing her aside and clutching his wounded arm. The girl hit the deck, twisted up into a crouch, lips peeled away from yellow teeth. She leapt at Private Henderson and put her shiv through his hazmask—punched right through the eyehole. Her stare locked on mine as his body hit the deck. Big and brown and brimming with hate. Bloody steel in one little red fist.

“Don’t look at me,” she hissed.

Sykes put her down. Single shot, right between the eyes. Dropped her before I could blink. And then we heard them. Calls out in the dark. One after another after another. Something skittered across the deck at us, fizzing and spitting tiny sparks.

Pipe bomb.

“Grenade!”

The blast took out Gandolfini, Montano and Parker, the second would’ve taken off my legs if I’d moved a little slower. I could see shapes in the dark—dozens of them—more pipe bombs raining from the gantries above. The explosions lit up the hangar’s belly like fireworks on Terra Day, lit up the body of that ten-year-old girl with a bullet in her face and a bloody knife still clutched in her hand. And I did what any officer with a brain would’ve done. Battlefield commission or not.

“Fall back! Fall back!”

To Sigma’s credit, we held formation as we peeled off, laying down suppressing fire as I grabbed McNulty and slung his arm around my shoulder. The hostiles were smart—I’d heard scuttlebutt that Phobos turned you mindless, but they were moving with intent, trying to cut off our retreat. A dozen VK pulse grenades talked them out of it, cleared us a path back to the airlock. McNulty was cursing beneath his breath the whole time, calling himself stupid. He didn’t seem too badly wounded, though—I thought his vest saved him from the worst of it.

It wasn’t until we’d sealed the secondary airlock behind us I realized how wrong I was. As the Kerenza rookies gathered about us and babbled, XO Myles’s voice rang in my headset.

“Sigma, this is Comm. Lieutenant McCall, report status, over!”

“Comm, this is Sigma. At least forty hostiles in the bay. Henderson, Parker, Gandolfini and Montano are down. McNulty is injured. Over.”

“Sigma, Comm. Did any hostiles make it through, over?”

“Comm, Sigma. Negative. They’re sealed outside airlock 2. Cycle us through, over.”

“Sigma, Comm. You said you have a squad member injured, confirm, over?”

“Comm, Sigma. Affirmative. McNulty took a knife wound. It’s not serious, but he—”

“Is his suit intact, over?”

McNulty looked at me, then. And I saw it in his eyes.

“Comm, Sigma—”

“Is his suit intact?”

He had blue eyes, McNulty. Pretty as oceans.

“Lieutenant, is his suit intact?”

“… Negative.”

“Winifred, you cannot bring that man through the airlock, do you understand me?”

“Lia … “

“ ‘Fred, you cannot bring him through.”

The battlefield commission on my chest weighed about ten tons right then. Made it hard to breathe. Impossible to speak. It’s not the bullets that kill you. It’s moments like these.

One piece at a time.

In the end, McNulty spoke for me.

“Comm, this is McNulty. I copy. Order acknowledged, over.”

I found my voice then. Barely. “Sergeant, I—”

“Forget it, LT.” He patted his rifle. “If they make it through the airlock before you come back with the cavalry, I got a little something waiting for them.”

“We are coming back for you, Sergeant.”

He smiled then. “’Course you are.”

The airlock cycled open behind us. A full detachment of MPs were waiting, suppressors and VKs trained on us—just in case we tried to bring McNulty through. Cold as the belly of the void, little Lia Myles. Not sure what I ever saw in her.

McNulty gave us a salute. I could still see his smile. No fear in his eyes then. Just duty.

He’d have made a good dad.

“Hey, LT,” he said as the doors cycled closed.

“Yes, Sergeant?”

“You see Ezra Mason around, remind him his first kid’s name is James. Or Jamette.” He patted his breast pocket. “And tell him not to worry. I’ve got Astro-Princess to keep me warm.”

“Astro-Princess?”

“He’ll know what I mean.”

I’d prefer a thousand bullets to a moment like this.

“Roger that, Sergeant.”

“Take care, LT.”

That was the last we saw of him.

I am officially recommending Sergeant James McNulty for the Silver Star for Bravery.

1st Lieutenant Winifred McCall

UTA Marine Division

Battlecarrier Alexander

ByteMe: Ez? please tell me you’re still there?