A Web Serial by M.C.A. Hogarth
| 86. Spots is Dancing(2). | 88. The Gang's All Here. |
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87. Reunions
Sickbay, several days later.
Corpsman. "Looks like you're good to go, Private."
Fang2. "Whoo! About ****ing time!"
Corpsman. "Tell me about it. I still have two pennies to rub together, but I might not tomorrow the way you play."
Fang2. "Aw, hell, I hate stealing from a corpsman. But you make it so easy."
The corpsman laughs. "Get out of here, Chao."
Fang2 pockets the last half-eaten protein bar (coconut) and saunters past the beds. When he passes Abram's, the sergeant calls. "Hey! Leaving already?"
Fang2. "Yup! I'm fit as a soccer mom!" He flexes.
Abrams. "How come you got out without physical therapy?"
Fang2. "Oh, I was doing the ****ing therapy. They just pawned it off on my ASL."
Abrams. "Seriously? He have training?"
Fang2. "Only the bad***ery kind. He's running the team drills." He grins. "Maybe if you ask nice he'd do you too."
Abrams snorts. "Like he tried to do my team in the gym?"
Fang2, laughing. "Hell, yeah. That's Claws. Tough mother... uh..." He trails off. "****! Do not want, bad image. He's a tough son of a *****."
Abrams shakes his head. "I'll keep that in mind."
Fang2. "You do th—hey, what's that?"
The back corner of Sickbay has attracted a sudden clot of corpsmen and doctors. Someone muffles a cheer.
Abrams, sitting up on his elbows. "Can you see?"
Fang2. "Better yet, I can walk." Which he does, touching a passing nurse on the arm. "What gives?"
Nurse, with feeling. "One of the Wild Dogs woke up!"
Fang2. "****! Yes!" He comes back, grinning fiercely, and says to Abrams, "Hope you like the local hooch, 'cause I'm betting it's about to come in that door with about twenty people. The dead just woke."
News spreads fast. Dusty shows up with her squad, some of the Vermin and Scythe. Even Peaches limps over, her arm in a sling, to grip the hand of the very weak Wild Dog and welcome him back. The personnel in Sickbay don't try very hard to shoo away the impromptu celebrators, though they do hush them. A little. Now and then.
The Wild Dogs's team leader leans back against an empty bed, watching her squad crowd around their teammate.
Scythe, to her, quiet. "Feel a little better?"
Dusty. "I've got another chance to bring one of my Dogs home. Hell yeah, I feel a little ****ing better." She grins.
Roach joins them. "Hell of a day, ain't it."
Scythe. "That it is."
Roach. "You hear about those drones they're sending down the holes?"
Scythe. "A little. What've you got?"
Roach. "They're down to numero zero." Wiggles one finger. "All the rest of them crushed by crabs before they got too far. They're gonna try sending the last one overland."
Scythe starts. "Will that work? It's like swimming in a waste dump up there."
Roach. "Guess they're desperate." Grins. "And you know what'll happen when that one goes."
Scythe sighs.
Dusty. "****, I don't care. I'd tromp around the ****ing planet today and kiss my blisters at the end of it. Semper ****in' fi!"
Barracks. Fang2 arrives, finds Whiskers and Hairball playing cards.
Fang2. "Look who's home!" Poses.
Whiskers. " 'Bout time. I was out of Sickbay faster than you."
Fang2. "Well, you didn't have a giant ****ing hole taken out of your side either. I was pouring blood, man. I mean, POURING." He grins and drops into a chair. "Gonna deal me in?"
Hairball. "Once you stop holding out on us."
Fang2. "Huh?"
Hairball. "First Spots and Claws vanish at night. Then Fang-prime starts muttering in her sleep, she only does that when you're *****ing at her. Now Scythe's doing that 'watching and waiting' thing with his fingers on his table. Drum, drum, drum. Pause. Starts over again. What's going down, and when do we get invited?"
Fang2 laughs. "Hell, how about tonight? Unless you want to go to the Wild Dog party. Oh, what am I talking about, the ****ing party'll still be going when we're done. Come on."
Testing Facility. Claws is walking Fang and Spots through a sniper-shield drill when he gets a call from the security team at the Door.
"Yo, slavedriver."
"Chao, you're late, come on through already."
"I gotta couple of friends you need to vouch for to the pinheads here—say hello, guys."
Whiskers. "Hey, Claws. Let us the **** in."
Claws laughs. "Yeah, put security on."
A few moments later, Fang2 shows up with Whiskers and Hairball.
Hairball. "So what's the deal?"
Claws. "Team drills, new hardware. I'm the boss. Spots is the specialist. We'll be the best **—friggin' thing since the hoplites discovered the aspis. Good?"
Hairball, slow grin. "Great."
Claws. "All right, let's get to work."
| 86. Spots is Dancing(2). | 88. The Gang's All Here. |
|---|
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