There was no more firing. Flattening himself along the boulder beside the cave entrance, Alec yelled, “You’ve got five seconds. Come out with your hands up or I’ll blow you all to hell.”
The same high, cracking voice shrieked. “Wait! Gimme a chance… he’s out cold… I gotta drag him…”
But Alec was counting, not listening. He reached five, glanced at Will still sprawled on his back in the snow halfway down the slope, then pulled the pin from one grenade and tossed it into the cave.
“Hey… wh… no… wait!”
The explosion sounded strangely muffled.
Smoke poured from the cave and Alec heard a high, keening screech, long and raw and agonized.
He yanked the pin and threw in the second grenade. The explosion blotted out all other sounds, and by the time the smoke had wafted out of the cave, all was silent inside.
Alec edged into the cave carefully, rifle cocked.
It took half a minute for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. There was enough left of the two bodies to recognize that they had once been human. Barely enough.
He walked out and went to the blond he had shot. The kid could not have been more than fourteen.
He lay where he had fallen. There was no gun or any other weapon near him.
The wind gusted. Alec looked up and saw that the scout was at Will’s side.
“Don’t look too good,” the old man said as Alec joined them. “Think they got a rib. Mighta punctured th’ lung.”
“Can we move him?”
“Got to. Can’t leave him hee-yuh.”
They bound Will’s chest as tightly as they dared, Alec tearing strips from his own shirt. Then Alec sent the scout on ahead to get help as he wedged himself under Will’s arm, on his good side, and started to help him to his feet.
“What about…” Will sagged, nearly dragging Alec to his knees, “…those kids.”
“Don’t worry about them.”
It wasn’t as bad as Alec had feared. Although they barely made two klicks by sundown, trudging along with most of Will’s weight on Alec’s shoulders, just before it got truly dark a trio of scouts met them. They had a stretcher and the four of them carried Will to an overnight camp that the old man had set up. It was only a lean-to, but it sheltered them from the wind. They slept next to a big, hot fire.
The next morning a wagon came up and took Will and Alec back to the base. Douglas and Angela and half the base’s people were at the first gate to meet them.
Two nights later, Douglas banged open the door to Angela’s house, She and Alec had eaten dinner in the mess hall, then walked the snow-banked paths to her house. They were sitting in front of the fire, drawing a charcoal sketch on a piece of fabric together, when Douglas strode in without warning. Suddenly the little room was overcrowded.
“Well, at least you’re dressed,” Douglas said.
The two of them scrambled to their feet.
“Of course we’re dressed,” Angela replied cooly.
“Now close that door or it’ll be freezing in here.”
Douglas nudged the door shut. “You’re wanted over at Will’s place, right away.”
“What’s happened?” Alec demanded.
“No time for explanations. Come right now.”
Alec took Angela by the hand and the three of them trotted through the icy darkness down three houses to Will’s place, while Alec’s mind raced. An infection. Something’s happened to Will. Maybe the wound was worse than they thought.
They burst into Will’s house, and there was the big oversized puppy dog, sitting on the sofa in the main room of the house with half a dozen half-drunk men and women sitting on the floor around him. A merry fire roared in the fireplace and they were all laughing and waving glasses.
“Oh-ho!” Will called as the three of them stepped into the house. “He’s here! Give them all glasses and let’s drink a toast to my companion-in-arms and rescuer.”
Someone shoved a glass into Alec’s hand. Someone else filled it eight centimeters deep with whisky.
Everyone except Will stood and faced Alec as the big redhead intoned, with enormous seriousness:
“To Alec, who brought me back alive.”
“To Alec,” they all repeated.
The whisky was beautiful, smooth as free-fall and warmer than sunshine. But then, “What is all this?” Alec asked, slightly dazed. Angela looked puzzled too, but happy.
Will sat there grinning happily. He was fully dressed, but Alec could see the bulk of the bandaging under his shirt.
He said, “My medical colleagues have finally admitted that I’m out of danger and can be up and about…”
“In a few days,” said one of the older men, trying hard to look dour. “In a few days, Will.”
“Right. In a few days,” Will agreed. “So I thought to myself, if I can be up and about in a few days, that means I can go back to Utica and hunt for more whisky. So why don’t we celebrate my miraculous recovery with the bottles we already have on hand?”
“Sound strategic thinking,” Douglas boomed, and the party was officially launched.
It went on all night. Toward dawn a few of the women disappeared, murmuring about getting breakfast together and hot, black coffee. Douglas was slouched on the sofa beside Will. Most of the others had bunched into little knots of conversation in corners of the rooms. Douglas pounded the empty space on the sofa alongside him and said to Alec, “Come here, son. Sit down.” It was a command.
They were all drunk enough to drop most of the pretenses that people live with. So Alec, knowing that his grin was as unsteady as his walk, made his way past a quartet of men sitting cross-legged by the dying fire and dropped onto the sofa next to his father.
“Well,” Douglas said, in the nearest thing to a quiet conversational tone that he could muster, “you’ve been with us for almost three months now. Still think I’m an ogre?”
Alec could see Will watching him, beyond Douglas’ bulky form, grinning hugely as if he’d arranged a reconciliation between David and Absalom.
“No,” Alec admitted, “I guess you’re not a monster. I still don’t agree with you, but I think I can see why you did what you did.”
“Good!” Douglas raised both hands in the air, like a victorious gladiator. One of them held an empty glass instead of a sword.
“Now then,” he went on, letting his hands drop, “there are a few things to be settled. First, I think you ought to marry the girl. She’s like my very own daughter, and I’ll admit I had mixed feelings…”
“Wait a minute,” Alec said. “Marry Angela?”
“Of course.”
“That’s between her and me. You don’t have anything to say about it.”
“The hell I don’t!” Douglas exploded. “She’s practically my daughter. You are my son. If you think you’re going to go fucking around and leave her pregnant, you goddamned better well think again.”
“Now wait…”
“No, you wait,” Douglas insisted. “You’re going to marry her, and then head a delegation to meet Kobol. There are a few things I want you to make clear to him.”
“I’m not sure I want to!”
“Not sure? What the hell do you mean, not sure? You can’t have your cake and eat it, too. You’re either with us or against us. There aren’t any neutrals around here. You just said you’re on our side.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Then you’re against us!” Douglas roared.
Will put a hand on his shoulder. “Hold on, Doug… just a…”
But Douglas shrugged him off and lumbered to his feet. Alec stood up beside him, barely coming up to his father’s shoulder.
“Now you listen to me, son,” Douglas said, his voice low and threatening. “I’ve let you sit around here and have your fill of food and warmth and shelter for three months. You’ve sneaked around behind my back to make it with my virtual daughter. And what have I asked from in return? Nothing! Not a goddamned thing. Except loyalty. And you refuse?”