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| Introduction: Not my story | ||
| Chapter 32 Rectification of the Problem Although the bright flash of the nuclear explosion passed in seconds, it was several minutes before anyone in the clearing could open their eyes, or stand up, so disorienting had it been. Nikki, who had remained beside her brother throughout the – rather pointless and stupid, she thought – fight, was the first to realize that something was amiss. She looked around quickly. Her sister was sitting, arms over her head, still hunkered down. The other two women were still unconscious, lying in a heap about fifty yards away. So, what was it that was raising the hairs on her neck? Another quick look around, and she thought she had it. She still had Kim’s small satchel, and from it she withdrew a large red light-stick. She broke the capsule inside, and shook it vigorously. It seemed a mediocre light, compared to what she had just been exposed to, but it would do its job. Nicole tossed the stick high into the air, watching it twirl lazily above her. The troops emerged before it came back down. She couldn’t count their number, but estimated that several dozen PPA soldiers emerged from the treeline surrounding their position. Their leader came directly to her, and she remembered that he was Jeff Durant, a friend of Ron’s. “Jeff! Am I glad to see you!” “Are you all right, Miss Nikki?” Everyone in the PPA called her that, as a matter of respect for all the effort she put forth herself, normal though she was. “I’m fine, more or less, but Ron isn’t.” “Aw, shit,” Jeff said. “We’ll get him some help.” “Those two twits over there probably need some attention, too.” Jeff looked at the prone forms of the two ladies. “What the hell happened with those two?” “Turf fight,” Nikki said sourly. “Well, could be a good thing. It was their fighting that caught our scouts’ attention. They sensed the fight, and called us all in, just in case it was a recon unit or something being attacked by the Russkies. We got here just as that damned flash went off.” “What the hell was that, anyway?” she inquired. “Nuclear blast. Good distance away, too. Must’ve been a high air-burst, ‘cause we didn’t get any shockwaves or even a boom.” “Who the fuck launched first?” “I don’t know, Miss Nikki. I’m sure the guys back at HQ could answer that.” By now, the two women had been roused by other PPA soldiers, and had been given spare clothing to cover themselves up with. Kimberly walked, a little shakily, over to where they were standing. “I’ve never been so glad to see that uniform, Major,” she said. “Yes, ma’am. Well, we need to get going. We’ll take the general to the MASH, and-“ “No!” Nikki nearly shouted. “We’re taking him home, where he belongs!” Jeff looked to the colonel for backup, and Kim just shook her head. “She’s already put me in my place where he’s concerned, Major. I think you’d best do as she says.” “Very well, ma’am. We have just become the general’s escort unit.” He turned to his men, “Saddle up! We’ve got a long flight ahead!” He appointed four people to carry Ron, though one would have been sufficient. Dawn put up a major ruckus about being flown, until Nikki yelled her down again. Kimberly was fascinated at the sudden surge of outright command Nicole had taken. It astounded her that so many people could be railroaded by an angry fourteen-year-old girl. Everybody formed up, and the unit took off, keeping low to the ground and heading southeast, for home. Ron was horribly shocked by the blast, and sat down for several minutes to let his vision recover. He never heard any thunder, but the world had grown eerily silent, except for the rain, which was his only cue that he had not been suddenly deafened. Once the spots ceased swirling before his eyes, he looked back to the house, which looked even uglier and more ominous than before. The rays of sunlight that had played across its face earlier were gone. They were replaced with a dull, dingy gray light that illuminated the house in such a fashion as to make any observer think of death itself. Do I have to go in there? Ron thought to himself. >>You don’t have to do anything. Remember? You’re the all-powerful Ron Chaffey, King of the Psionics!>It could only be this way if you made it this way. After all, this is all in your head, remember?>Would it make any difference to know? In this world of yours, time has less meaning than it does in the Spirit Realms.>It is said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. Let us see what lies in yours…>>>>>>Only way to find out is to look, shithead.>Coward!>Fraidy-cat, fraidy-cat! |
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