He was alive. He had found Dee. He had survived. He had found hope amongst the tragedy of the last couple of weeks. Jack looked over to George and couldn’t help but smile at him. The little kid had saved them all. The smallest of souls can have the greatest effects.
Finally, Jack looked over at his wife. She leant against the wall of the chopper, cradling the teenager’s head in her lap. One of the minigun operators was attempting to stem the flow of blood from Boss’s leg. Their eyes met and they smiled at each other.
Jack found Ben’s eyes; the man with the long wizard beard who had risked his life to reunite Dee with him.
“Thanks, mate. Thanks for coming to get me,” Jack said. He moved over and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“No one left behind, soldier. That’s always been the motto. You go and be with your family, Jack.”
They exchanged a look of respect, of shared experience.
Is this what all soldiers experience?
Jack nodded at the medic tending Ben’s wounds. “Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s losing a lot of blood. All I can do is stabilise him until we get back to base.”
Jack patted the medic and slid over to Dee, taking her hand in his. He just stared at her, tears of joy, mixed with sorrow, welling in his eyes. I made it. I found her.
Dee watched Jack looking at her. No words needed to be said. They knew how lucky they were. They had survived. They had found each other amongst the chaos. Battered, bruised, wrung out, but alive.
Stroking Boss’s head, she tried to reassure him. Tried to use her touch to say that it was going to be all right. She was no medical professional, but even she knew he had lost a lot of blood.
The man in army fatigues tied a strap around Boss’s torn leg. “He’s going to need blood, and lots of it. What blood type are you, Ma’am?” he said, adjusting the strap.
“Umm, O negative, I think,” Dee replied.
“Perfect. Universal donor. I’ll get set up.”
Dee looked into Boss’s eyes. “You hear that, kiddo? You’re going to be fine.”
Boss murmured something. Dee leant closer to his lips. He kissed her cheek. “I’m Samaritan, so don’t bury me in the Jewish section.”
A sobbing laugh escaped Dee’s lips. Even when facing death, he quoted Monty Python.
Epilogue
Jack stood on the cliff top watching the sun sink below the New Zealand mainland. The cooling salt air brushed against his healing skin.
For two weeks he had stayed in the makeshift infirmary. When they’d first arrived, the army medics and surgeon had worked through the night to save Ben and Boss. Both of them had required long surgeries and litres of blood. Dee had stood vigil next to Boss, refusing to leave his side until he was in the clear. Jack visited Ben as much as the nurses allowed; the tough old goat was sitting up in no time. Jack discovered he was a fellow WWII enthusiast. Discussions about a familiar subject had helped the healing process for them both.
Ben gave him some information about how bad it was out there in the world, while Jack told Ben of his experiences in the dam. He explained how he had made it out. They discussed the men they’d seen helping the Variants. Collaborators, Ben called them.
On the long walks Jack took to calm himself, his mind replayed how he had killed the man with the red trucker cap. Even though he had no remorse, it haunted him. He had killed someone. Snuffed out a life.
He reasoned that the man was a traitor. He’d betrayed his own kind to save his skin.
Perhaps he had deserved to die.
In Jack’s opinion, they all had to band together, man against monsters. They had to stop all this petty racial bickering because they were one race. The human race. These Variants were now the apex predators.
One thing still bugged him, though. How had he and George regained consciousness when no one else in that corridor had? He mused over this for days but couldn’t come up with any plausible explanation. Jack decided to let it go for now. They had bigger things to be concerned about.
Thinking of George, he smiled. George had adapted well to his new surroundings, even finding a few new friends in the camp. They had him running around squealing in no time.
Dee, Jack and George had spent the morning collecting manuka flowers from the many trees that dotted the hills surrounding the bay and camp. George had asked why they were doing this several times, and Dee had patiently explained that it was a way of remembering people. If truth be told, she and Jack had seen the ritual in a movie with Native Americans in it and had loved the sincerity of it. When Dee’s father had died, she and Jack had honoured him with the ritual.
As they had no bodies to bury, this was the only way they could think of to honour those lost.
Jack and Dee had discussed at length about trying to find Jack’s family. No one they knew had made it to Mayor Island nor any of the other pockets of survivors they’d had radio contact with. Jack insisted his family were smart. They knew about the cabin, so there was a chance.
Jack could feel the sea breeze picking up as it came up off the ocean and met the volcanic island. Perfect, he thought, smiling.
Crunching on the pathway behind him warned of people approaching. Turning, he watched in admiration as Boss, using crutches, his lower right leg bandaged at the stump, walked along behind the others.
Boss had stayed in the infirmary for a further two weeks. The nurses had finally let him out, for a short time at least.
“You guys ready?”
“Yup,” they chorused.
Jack let out a nervous sigh. “We are here today to honour and remember those who we lost. We lost friends, family, pets, everything. But amongst it all, we found each other. We drew strength and courage from each other. These brave men and women on this island, and Ben, who helped us; they give us new hope so that we can carry on. We owe it to others’ sacrifices that we carry on, not only for them, but for ourselves.”
Jack, Dee, Boss and George raised up their arms and opened their palms, allowing the wind to carry away the crushed flowers.
Dee reached over and slid her hand into Jack’s.
George clung between them, leaning out over the cliff to watch the flowers float towards the sea.
“A fine speech, Jack.” Jack turned around. Frowning, he watched Ben hobble towards them. “A fine speech indeed.”
Ben reached out and grasped them all in a hug.
“Benny!” George squealed.
Ben ruffled George’s hair. Smiling at Jack and Dee, he nodded at each of them. “Sorry I’m late. The colonel’s meetings tend to drag on. But we’ve a heap to do and little manpower to do it with.” He stroked his long bushy beard. “Did you guys mean what you said? About letting me train you?”
“Yes. I’m keen,” Jack said, looking at Dee.
She grinned. “Sure, why not.”
“Good, I’m glad. We need everyone we can get. Especially people like you. You both showed real courage under fire. I think that with some training, you two will be real handy in what’s to come.”
“What is to come?” Jack asked.
“I can’t give details yet, but we’re going to fight back. The colonel’s been on the horn to the Americans. That’s all I can say at the moment.” A pondering look flickered across his face. Jack searched his twinkling brown eyes for anything else, but Ben’s face remained a calm mask.
Ben nudged Boss on the shoulder. “Boss, the colonel has agreed to teach you radio operations. He’s dying to know how you reached the Americans on some amateur ham radio. You begin as soon as Doc gives you the all-clear.”