The North (#wattys2016)

Chapter 23

A child.

I dropped down onto the jump seat opposite Jo unsure of what to say to her. She gave me a curious look and for the first time in my life, I didn’t have any answers for her. I couldn’t look her in the eye and tell her that it was okay to shoot someone who was your prisoner. I just couldn’t do it, so I took the coward’s way out: I didn’t give her a definitive yes or no. Instead, I just answered her question by not answering her question.

“We’ll figure out what to do with him once we get the information we need,” I said, sounding deflated. “In the meantime you stay hatches down and rest up, Jo. It’s going to be a long day and everyone needs to focus.”

“Alright, David,” she said easily. All the stone cold seriousness had left her voice and the old Jo had returned.

For how long was anyone’s guess.

***

We shrouded Dawson’s body in a groundsheet, binding it tight with bungee cord. A few minutes later we pulled both carriers into an area of low ground about a hundred meters clear of the highway. I booted the sniper out of the back of the carrier and then tossed him a shovel.

“Start digging, prick,” I said menacingly. “And don’t get any crazy ideas about going ape shit with that shovel on our people because I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

He nodded quickly and then hobbled a few feet away from the rear doors to begin his task. And surely he was thinking the grave was meant for him. I’m sure everyone on the team would have liked to give Kate a proper burial in a place that wasn’t a dried out slough in the middle of a farmer’s field. Somewhere peaceful with trees overlooking a valley, but there wasn’t any time.

“Dig faster, asshole,” said Cruze as she watched the shooter scraping madly at the partially frozen ground. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get the fuck out of this exposed position.”

Sid leaned against the back of the carrier and slid down against a rear wheel. He avoided my gaze as the gravity of Kate’s death started to sink in. He stared across the snow covered field as he fished a cigarette out of his pocket.

“Fuck … I should have kept my mouth shut,” he whispered as he ran a sleeve across his eyes. “I caused this and now Kate’s gone and-“

“You’re fucking right you caused this, Sid.” Cruze interrupted. “And Kate would probably kick you in the balls for wasting time crying over her.”

“I’m not crying, okay?” Sid answered.

Kenny climbed out of his carrier and fired a murderous look at the shooter.

“Prick,” he hissed. “Please tell me he’s digging a grave for himself.”

I shook my head. “No – we’re going to bury Kate then we’re going to get moving. I’ll interrogate this asshole later. If he’s smart, he’ll cooperate.”

“And if he doesn’t?” said Cruze.

The shooter glanced nervously over his shoulder at me and stared at my carbine.

“He’ll talk.” I said threateningly.

Jo kept inside the carrier and didn’t even bother poking her head out to look at our prisoner. He was dressed in camouflage combat fatigues – the new ones they’d issued to the regular force as opposed to the tattered hand-me-downs the reservists got. He had brown hair that had grown shaggy at the back and his eyes had that same haunted expression you saw in the eyes of everyone who survived Day Zero. He looked older than us, with crow’s feet around his eyes and a thick five o’clock shadow. I’d have pegged him to be in his late twenties to early thirties. On his combat jacket were three chevrons on each sleeve – he was a Sergeant. His regimental affiliation was nowhere to be seen – not that it mattered anymore because the army as we knew it was long dead.