Will grinned back down toward Alec, then rose to his feet. “Good,” he said toward the cave. “I knew...”
The shot exploded, echoed by the cave walls, and knocked Will completely off his feet. He tumbled, flailing legs and arms, down the rough hillside. A yellow-haired figure darted from the cave mouth and dashed off toward the right.
Alec had let his rifle rest on his knee, but without thinking about it he snapped it to his shoulder and fired. The rock chipped in front of the fleeing blond. He skidded to a stop, pawing at his eyes. Alec fired again, slamming him back against the rock. Again, and the figure jerked once more and crumpled to the ground.
Alec swung his rifle back to the cave’s mouth. Another shot boomed out, and the snow puffed a few centimeters in front of Will’s sprawled body. Alec emptied the rest of his clip at the cave’s entrance. The firing stopped. He scrambled up the few steep meters to Will’s side. There was a spreading red stain across his coat front. His eyes were open, but hazy.
“Don’t... don’t...” Will mumbled. Alec heard more shots, from behind. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the scout was aiming a smoking pistol rock-steady at the cave’s mouth.
“Give them a chance... they’re scared...” Will said weakly.
“I’ll give them a chance,” Alec said. He pulled the two grenades from Will’s pockets. One of them was slippery with blood. Hooking a finger through their firing rings, Alec grabbed Will’s rifle with his free hand and made his way, doubled over, toward the entrance to the cave.
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 puppydog, sitting on the sofa in the main room of the house with half a dozen halfdrunk 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...”
