Left on Robertson…
When Soledad was already dead? Should already be dead? That kind of thinking had kept company with Soledad, given comfort to Soledad as she jobbed her way through the LAPD academy, worked a beat, SPU and MTac without so much as getting sweaty palms. Not once.
Until…
Right on Third.
And a thought came to Soledad, came like a frank observation that, being objective, was separate from her own thinking.
The thought: Know what you're scared of?
What?
You've been hanging around Vin. You're attracted to Vin. But you're scared you don't really care for Vin.
Endorphins pumping in Soledad. Runner's high coming on.
A high coming on.
Stupid, Soledad told herself. Losing herself in natural bliss, she told herself the thought was stupid. Why would it matter if she-
You don't care for Yin. Used to hate Vin. So you're scared Vin's just a bounce-back thing. You're scared 'cause if he is, then who you really love, who you're still in love with, what's really giving you unease-
No! It wasn't qualms or questions or misgivings on the ways of her heart. It was Death. Soledad felt Death creeping close and, yeah, it scared her because she didn't… she wasn't afraid of losing her life. She didn't want to lose the life she could have with Vin. Vin. Vin she loved, she told herself. And told herself. She could deal with Death and falling for a guy she used to hate. What she couldn't deal with- A horn.
Soledad looked as she ran out onto Ivy. Looked too late. As she saw the massive front end of the Ford Expedition bearing on her, she thought: I hate SUVs.
There was laughter all around. Rare thing. Odd thing.
Laughter from Eddi and Alcala. And from Soledad. Soledad laughing out loud, continuously. That was the bit that was rare and odd, and made more so by the fact that there were three MTacs cracking up and they were doing it in a hospital. Mostly, MTacs in hospitals meant cooling for some specialist to arrive from an ER, blood-covered, telling the rest-or the remainder-of an element, eyes lowered and with a mournful shake of the head, "Nothing we could do." Mostly, MTacs in hospitals meant waiting for spouses or family or lovers or life partners to come around, get the official word, then break down in sobs while the rest-the remainder-of an element wondered how long it'd be before their spouse or family, lover or life partner would be heaped on a dirty tile floor sobbing for them.
Mostly, that's the way it was with MTacs in hospitals.
But right then?
Eddi, Alcala and Soledad right then couldn't bust up enough. The situation was funny in a relieved kind of way. Everybody was relieved Soledad was still alive. Her left leg, specifically her knee, was fucked-up to a monumental degree by the hit it took from the Expedition. Beyond that, some scrapes and bruises she collected skimming over the asphalt on Ivy, the situation was funny. To a degree. After squaring off against flamethrowers, shape-shifters, even a telepath, Soledad had almost gotten taken out by a representative hunk of one of the worst automotive treads ever to get spat out of Detroit.
To the MTacs. it was hi-F'n-larious.
"Jesus, Soledad." Alcala joking. "Making all of us look damn near pathetic. An MTac getting put down by a station wagon."
"Wasn't a station wagon. You know it wasn't a-"
"Actually heard a traffic cop making cracks about MTacs. A traffic cop, Soledad." "Hey, I had the right-of-way."
Eddi: "Yeah, you always have the right-of-way."
"I'm serious. Had the right-of-way, and this ass…»
"Shoulda hit him with one of your bullets." "Guy barely brakes. Hate stupid SUV-driving sons of-"
"I've got an SUV," Eddi said, wearing that slick smile of hers.
"Figures. And he was on the phone too."
"You shoulda hit him with one of your bullets." Alcala saying it again. "What do you got for asses on cell phones driving their-"
"Lead. Nothing special. Just lead."
"Getting slow, Soledad." Eddi flicked through some food on a tray next to Soledad's bed with her index finger. Nothing worth trying. "You twenty-nine now? Might be time for your gold watch."
"Hell with that. I was making a move."
"Moving from human to hood ornament."
"Like to see you get out of the way of a speeding truck, kid."
'That's the thing: Us kids wouldn't let ourselves get boxed in first off."
Eddi and Alcala laughed, dapped.
What the hell, Soledad thought, was Alcala laughing at? She was older than him, but he was junior rank to her.
She was going to say something about that, but Vin walked in the room. Walked pretty decent for a guy with one real leg. That Otto Bock worked good. Vin walked in carrying some flowers.
Things quieted some, the laughing fell off.
Vin asked what was funny, what was the joking he heard before coming into the room.
Eddi and Alcala mumbled about busting Soledad's chops.
Then there was quiet. The uncomfortable kind.
Vin asked Alcala and Eddi how things were.
They said things were good.
The quad talked on about sports; what the hell was going on with the Lakers. The weather, the other night's episode of some sitcom.
Some more quiet.
Eddi announced she had some things to do. Alcala, too, said he had some things that needed taking care of. Both said their good-byes to Soledad, Vin.
"Good seeing you again, Vin."
"Take 'er easy, Vin."
Then it was just Vin and Soledad.
Soledad gave Vin an update on her knee. Tom ligaments. There'd he further surgery. There'd be physical therapy, a limp that would, hopefully, diminish over time. Time when Soledad couldn't work MTac. No matter how she'd gotten busted, she was a busted cop. Being busted was to be automatically inactive. Yeah, there was other cop work she could do: file files, write up reports. Any temp could do that. Doing that, the Admin work of law enforcement, was not being a cop. And the feeling that came with doing that-no matter she'd previously tried to convince Vin otherwise-was one of supreme uselessness. A car with no tires. A fork with no teeth. A Hollywood actress over the age of forty. It was a feeling as discomforting as any Soledad knew. Her job was her life, her purpose. It was her obligation. So no job…
No life?
No purpose?
And then Soledad got honest. "Scared me, Vin. Scared the hell out of me."
"Screwed up your knee some."
"Thought I was going to die."
"If a freak can't kill you…" Vin maintained a stare at the room door.
"That's what scared me. I've gotten it in my head I'd go out in a general alert, gun in each hand taking on a rush of muties. Put down as many of them as I can before I go."
"John Wayne."
"Angela Bassett. But then you see mortality rushing at you in the grille of a Ford… what the fuck, Vin? I was going to die, and I was going to die for nothing. From after birth to a stain on the asphalt, and what did I amount to in the between time?"
Still looking at the door: "This an ego thing? You figure your obit wasn't going to run enough column inches?"
"It could fill the paper, but right then I wondered, what would it amount to? That's what I was thinking: I was going to die without ever amounting to anything."
"Your gun, the telepath you took out…»
"I shot its wife."
"Another freak."
"I shot its wife. If I hadn't, would Yar still be alive? Would you still have your leg?"