Freaky Eatrs 2

The chair was plastic and uncomfortable but Isaac didn't really care. He wasn't in this place looking to relax. He just sat stock still, glaring at the red light above the door in front of him.  It seemed to defy him with its glow, remind him of the mistakes he'd made.

It wasn't too long ago that he'd been out on patrol, his first. He'd loved it. Not everything, like the dirt, the uneasy sleep and the constant knowledge that there could be something creeping up on him at any moment. But the rest. The knowledge that he was protecting the people back home. The knowledge that he was good enough.

He'd been in awe of the rest of his patrol. Ben and Howard. Though only a few years older than him they’d done so much. Everyone had heard if them. The time they'd gone AWOL from the base, been gone for weeks then returned almost without a scratch. They were living legends and he was out there with them, basking in their glory. It was the stuff of his dreams.

And it had lasted right up till their first contact with the enemy.

He'd imagined it for years, lying in his bunk, staring at the concrete ceiling. The first time he'd meet those robots. He'd have a really big gun yet be able to heft it with ease, like he'd seen others do. He'd kill everything that got in his way.

Real life hadn't been like that. He'd got the big gun but it was so heavy he wasn't really sure he could fire it properly. And the fear. He hadn't imagined the fear. The thoughts that at any moment he could be sliced into pieces and fed to the machines. He'd almost not been able to face them.

They'd wanted to send him back. Ben and Howard. They'd seen he was afraid and they'd offered to let him escape to live. While they went and fought those robots. Even a feared Reaper. He'd had nightmares about Reapers. Everyone had, in the orphanage. But they were walking to certain death and they didn't even seem to care. So he'd gone along.

It would probably have been better if he'd stayed behind.

Someone sat down next to him. Ben.

“You all right, kid?”

Isaac didn't answer, just kept staring at the light. It was flickering slightly and he found himself unconsciously counting the number of times under his breath.

Ben decided to keep talking.

“Is it this place? I hate hospitals too. Something about the smell.”

Still Isaac didn't talk. Though he agreed about the cloying smell of disinfectant.

“Howard's going to be ok, by the way.”

Isaac started crying and didn't know why.

Ben seemed to understand. He put his arm round Isaac's shoulders.

“It's called shock. These things tent to hit you a bit after they actually happen.

“You know it wasn't really your fault?”

“But it was!” Now Isaac talked and it all seemed to want to come at once, in great shuddering gasps. He could see the scene again, topping the rise, seeing the shine and the Reaper, firing his grenade launcher. “I thought it was a squad lying around down there. Everything was shining so bright, I thought it was their suits. I didn't know it was just mirrors. I thought that thing was just finishing the last one off.”

“That's another bonus of the suits, apparently. They're supposed to disorientate the machines as well as make us hard to pick up on infra-red. Though machines usually have filters to cut that sort of stuff out. Trust Jesse to find a way to fox them.”

“And I killed her! She can fight machines like that, she can go one on one with a god damn Reaper, and I killed her!”

Ben patted him on the arm. “She won't blame you for it. That's how she would want to go. She would have done the exact same thing. Probably. You're just lucky. In the old days she had explosives strapped all over her. She said she didn't want there to be anything left of her for the robots to eat. But she must have found better uses for them.

“Howard might blame you though. He's always been a bit protective of her.”

“Protective?” Isaac laughed, sharp, barking exhalations. “Of something like her? Who is she anyway?”

Now Ben looked surprised. He raised an eyebrow, as if not able to believe the question. “Who is she? You honestly don't know who Jesse is? You've never heard the stories?”

“No. There are stories?”

Ben sat back a bit, the plastic groaning under his bulk. “Quite a few. You've never heard of her necklace of ears and fingers?”

“What?” Isaac sat up straight, his hands flying up to his head, as if scared that her vengeful spirit might try taking his.

“Well, robot ears and fingers. She built up quite a collection.”

“Oh.” Isaac slumped down again. “But I thought that was Howard's necklace. Didn't quite understand why he wore it.”

“It was Jesse's originally. She gave it to him when she left.”

“Oh.” Isaac stared blackly at the light again. He willed it to stay on. It had to stay on. The second it turned off it meant the operation was over. That meant he'd learn if she was alive or dead.

There was silence for a while. It became unbearable. He had to break it.

“Would you tell me some of the stories?” he asked eventually.

Ben had begun to doze off by this point and jerked himself awake. “What? Oh, no.” He shook his head. “I was never any good at them. You'd better ask Howard. He knows them all, much better than I do.”

“He'll never tell me. I killed her.” Isaac didn't start crying again, though he half expected to at those words. It was as if all his emotions had drained through a plughole in his soul.

“I don't know. Jesse's tough. I think it'll take a lot more than a grenade to finish her off.”

Isaac wanted to believe Ben's words, he really did. But he remembered how frail and damaged she'd looked when they'd followed Howard's mad dash into the dusty room and found her unconscious, with a pulse barely beating at her neck. And Howard slouched beside her, a bloody lump raised on his head by a rock off a wall. He remembered Ben taking in the situation at a glance then laying Jesse on her red metal shield and lifting her aloft by himself, then staggering off back to the base. Isaac had been left to try and carry Howard. It must have been miles before other people, sent to find him by Ben once he'd got to the base, finally arrived with a stretcher. Isaac had hurried beside them, learning that Jesse had been taken straight to the operating theatre. He'd hurried down to this plastic seat as soon as he'd got back and hadn't move, awaiting destiny.

It had been seven hours.

Morose silence had once again descended. He couldn’t do it, couldn't sit like this, just waiting. He had to talk again.

“So were Howard and Jesse....?”

He didn't get to complete the sentence. There was a disturbance further down the corridor. In a moment Ben was on his feet, a gun seeming to leap from the holster he wore under his jacket to his hand. Isaac rose as well and together they stared towards the source of the noise.

They saw Howard coming towards them, banging into the walls and shoving people out of the way. Like Ben he had removed his silver suit and was dressed in jeans and a dust coloured denim jacket. Isaac still had his on, he’d not had a chance to change it yet. His head was swathed in bandages.

He saw Ben and lurched forward, barging past nurses carrying a supply of bedpans, sending them clattering to the ground. “Where is she?” he yelled.

Ben stepped forward and grabbed him just as he collapsed. “You should be in bed,” he told him.

Howard gritted his teeth and tried to stand. “Fuck that. Where is she?”

Ben sighed and gestured towards the door. Howard heaved himself and half fell through it.

“Follow him,” said Ben, giving Isaac a bedpan from off the floor. Then he left.

Isaac took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping into an observation area. Howard was slumped on the floor, his strength apparently having failed him. He looked up weakly. “Give me that, kid,” he said. Isaac handed over the bedpan and Howard promptly threw up into it. He examined the yellowish mixture with what appeared to be interest. “Bile,” he muttered to himself. “A concussion.” Then he looked up again.  “How is she?” he asked.

Isaac finally looked through the window at the operation taking place; something he’d been trying not to do ever since he’d entered the room. There wasn’t much to see. A large team of surgeons were fussing around a table mostly obscured by their bodies and a large green cloth. The only part of her he could see was her hand, which dangled like a pale branch of a wilting tree. “She seems ok,” he lied.

“She’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.” Howard kept repeating it over and over again. Isaac didn’t say a thing. There wasn’t much he could say. He saw a glint of light from around Howards neck and realised it was the necklace.

They stayed that way in the ever present silence of the waiting; Isaac standing looking down at Howard, who was clutching his bedpan. Every so often Howard would mutter, “She’ll be fine,” to himself in a very determined way. Isaac wasn’t sure what would happen if Jesse died. It looked as if Howard had already lost his mind.

Then he sensed the bustle of the surgeons behind his back get more frantic. He turned, not wanting to see what he knew was awaiting him. Back in the orphanage they’d sometimes watched old DVDs of tv shows. It was just like the medical dramas. They were loosing her.

Howard seemed to realise this too. He rocketed to his feet, desperation lending him back his failing strength. “No!” he screamed, banging against the glass with his clenched fists. “No! You can’t die! I won’t let you die!”

He cast around frantically then darted towards a door into the operation room. He was through it just as the heart monitor stopped its beeping, dying instead to a low whine. The surgeons grabbed a set of defibrillator paddles while Howard grabbed Jesse’s hand. He was sobbing and seemed to be begging with Death.

“No! You can’t go! You can’t die. I won’t let you.” He grabbed the necklace from around his neck and thrust it into her hand. “See I’ve still got your necklace. I told you I’d give it back to you. It was just before you hit me, remember?” He tried to wrap her fingers around it but they kept falling loose. The surgeons sweated and swore, trying the paddles for a second time. Isaac didn’t think they would work.

The door to the operation theatre banged open behind him and Ben strode past. He had the Reapers scythe in his hand, Jesse’s whip still twined around it. He didn’t pay Isaac any attention, just walked over to Howard and tapped him on his shoulder.

Howard didn’t look around, just held out his hand for Ben to drop the scythe into. Then he threw the necklace back over his shoulder and put forward the weapon instead.

“There, see! Now you can’t die. You always wanted a Reapers Scythe. I remember you talking about it. Imagine what you could do with a weapon like this. So you can’t die now.”

It still didn’t seem to be working. The surgeons were about to try the paddles for the third and final time. Howard grabbed Ben’s hand and made him hold the scythe into Jesse’s hand. Then he walked up to her head, weaving his way around the doctors.

He carefully brushed some of her bright red hair away then leaned down. “You can’t die now,” he whispered. “Then they would have won.”

The paddles came down for the final time. As they hit Jesse finally grasped the scythe. Static seemed to run along its blade as her eyes flew open, shining with a fierce, green light. “Like hell they do,” she whispered back. Then her eyes dimmed and closed. But her heart still beat, stronger each pulse. As if with every pump of blood it damned the enemy she hated so much.

One of the surgeons turned and seemed to notice them for the first time. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here? Get out, and take this with you.” But no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t prise the scythe from her hand. In the end they just chucked the three intruders out into the observation room.

Howard went back to slumping against the wall, looking up at them with mad laughter in his eyes. “She’s back,” he told them. Isaac just nodded while Ben beamed down at his friend. “She back.”

Then he went cross-eyed and threw up again.