Spares - Michael Marshall Smith [116]
Nearly and Vinaldi were forgotten, along with the other spares and everything I had ever seen and done. All I could think of was Suej.
I saw her face turn back to us then, distorted with terror and tears. She stumbled and tripped as she was dragged down the rocky slope. She had no idea what was going on. As far as she knew we were another enemy, one that was simply bigger and more dangerous. Maybe she even welcomed being dragged away.
“Ratchet, KILL THEM!” I shouted, yanking my seat belt off and hurling myself up to the window. I stuck my face out and called Suej’s name, shouting it into the trees like a desperate prayer.
She looked! confused for a moment, then she saw me. For the merest of instants there was something like relief in her eyes, and she looked solid again.
I saw her ragged blond hair, inexpertly cut by me back at the Farm in an attempt to make her look like someone she once saw on the television; her pale blue eyes, wide with fear, face slack with confusion and dread; and a summer dress, splattered with mud, but still carrying with it something of the afternoon on which it had been bought.
As she stared at me she tripped, staggering into the space where the remaining shadow of Yhandim ran.
Two bolts of orange light flew from the gunship like angels going home. One went through the space where the other soldier was, and the hand on her right wrist seemed to disappear.
The other hit Suej full in the chest.
“No!” I screamed. “No! NO!”
Yhandim’s hand slipped off Suej’s arm as she fell, and he disappeared off into space, the wraith of a smile the last thing to go. I lost sight of Suej for a moment, as Ratchet fought to turn the gunship round. I howled and smashed my fist against the side of the cabin, the other soldiers forgotten, the smoke and noise around me forgotten, the world nothing but a shout of denial.
Ratchet juddered the ship down to the ground and I leaped up and waited for it to land. I opened the door and fell down the ladder, not knowing or caring if any of the other soldiers were still visible.
When I crashed to the bottom I looked up the hill, my vision blurred, almost unable to see what we had wrought. And, perhaps because of the tears, I thought I saw something.
I thought that I could see the children again, standing around Suej’s fallen body. The boy was there, and all the others, looking down with compassion in their faces. I stood there, throat clenched, too afraid to move, as the children bent over her, hands reaching as if to help her up. Then they started to disappear, but one at a time, hundreds of lights going out until there were no lights at all.
I climbed as fast as I could, scrambling over slippery rocks and tangled roots, but by the time I made it to the top of the bank, Suej’s body had vanished.
In the clearing Nearly and Vinaldi were still hanging from trees, alone but completely uninjured. They hadn’t been nailed, only tied. I let them both down, and accepted a handshake from Vinaldi, but the relief in their eyes brought me little pleasure. Nearly looked frightened and probably wanted a hug, but I couldn’t provide one. Instead I walked away, sat down on a rock and lit a cigarette. My hands were shaking and I could see very little except the image of Suej’s face at the instant the orange light had killed her.
I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me, and was only aware of Nearly’s presence when I felt her arms slip round my waist. I stiffened against them, but she persisted, and after a while I gave up and let myself be held.
“We saw,” she said, “jack, it wasn’t your fault.”
I shook her off and walked a few paces, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. I didn’t trust myself enough for eye