toward an old irrigation culvert. Trevin, he happily noted, was getting Robert to drive extremely fast in a directly opposite direction, toward a decaying church and cinder block fellowship hall.
The copter hesitated in the middle, the hunters not sure which pair to pursue. They settled on Joel and Renzo.
As the copter bore down on them, Joel realized they weren't going to make the culvert in time. He shoved Renzo under a large sagebrush and dove on top of him, shielding him with his body. A bullet pierced his leg.
The copter blew up and fell in fiery pieces from the sky.
The bullet business Joel had expected, although he'd rather expected to be shot fatally, and was surprised to be alive. The exploding copter business, on the other hand, was so unexpected and impossible that it was more mind boggling than the pain. It didn't help that he could still hear a helicopter flying. He wondered if he'd gone mad, or if perhaps he'd died and was in some strange limbo where nothing made sense.
The helicopter landed nearby. It kept its rotors moving. Joel madly tried to scramble away.
"Friends, friends," someone called out, as he ran closer.
Joel rolled over, handgun at the ready.
The man stopped, hands in the air. "Joel, it's me. Anthony Davis. Harvey was taking the new helicopter out for a run and I came along in case he ran into a situation where he needed somebody with legs. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't shoot me. How bad are you hurt?"
The buggy roared closer, then very close, and stopped. Trevin's voice rang out. "Johnson, it's the Davis brothers, in the helicopter we had down in the hole. Put the gun down. Renzo, are you all right?"
Joel heard "Put the gun down, Renzo," and twisted around to get a good shot at the man he'd just tried to save.
Renzo was lying still, with nothing in his hands, staring at him in confusion.
Anthony got between them. "Joel, it's you who has the gun that needs to be put down," he said, firmly, deliberately.
Joel looked at his weapon hand, to confirm that. Finally, he got the message straight. He handed the gun to Anthony, who locked it and stuck it in his waistband. He knelt to examine Joel's wound. "Tourniquet time, Joel. Sorry. We'll manage it carefully, and we'll have you home in no time, but we need to shut the blood off for a while," he said. He worked as he spoke. Once the bleeding stopped, Joel lost some of his franticness and regained a bit of sense, although blood loss kept him blurry and slow to comprehend.
Anthony got a loading ramp in place, with help from Robert and Renzo. After they got piles of wildflowers moved out of the way in the cargo bay, Robert drove the buggy into the helicopter, with Trevin still strapped into the passenger seat. The ramp was put back inside. Renzo and Robert loaded Joel in. Once everyone was inside, Harvey lifted the heavily laden bird off the ground and headed back to the submerged hanger. He switched on speakers. "Can you guys hear me back there?" People nodded and shouted yes. "Good. I have one air-to-air missile left, and approximately 900 bullets. Those of you who are able to gaze usefully out of windows, I'd appreciate it if you let me know if we need to use them."
Trevin crawled out of the buggy to painfully kneel at a window. Robert also went to a window. Joel foggily thought he should try to get up, but Anthony talked him into staying flat on his back with his leg elevated.
Renzo looked uncertainly back and forth between Joel and a window. Anthony thought he saw something there that hadn't been there before. He motioned to him to take over with Joel. Renzo came as bid, but tried to explain over the engine and rotor noise that he didn't know what to do. Anthony leaned close to his ear, and said, "All we need to do now is try to keep him calm, and let him know he's not alone. You can do that. You'll be fine. I need to help watch for danger. You're fine." Rather than let him try to object, Anthony went to a window to watch for enemies, and (between the sneezing fits that had been plaguing him since he'd brought flowers on board) to quietly pray his heart out, for safety from foes, for Joel's life and leg, for Renzo's soul.
The chaplain had been holding Mr. Johnson's hand while he talked to him, so Renzo assumed that was the way to do this duty. He settled in next to Joel, and held his hand, and told him over and over that he'd be home soon.
Home? Renzo had had no concept of home before being brought underground. He'd had assigned places, assigned duties, assigned roommates, assigned separations, assigned thoughts. Part of him held on to that as something good. He'd had less occasion to be confused then, not like he'd been again, and again, and still again, since entering this new and previously undreamed of civilization.
He looked around at his companions.
Mr. Harvey Davis, a crippled man who could barely walk, was flying the helicopter. The topside government would have killed him long since, for being crippled, and thus not good for society. They would have killed Julia, too, for the same reason. This civilization, though, had tenderly cared for Mr. Davis, even when they thought it unlikely he'd be able to resume his flying duties.
He looked down at Mr. Johnson, who had shielded him with his own body when bullets had started flying. Mr. Johnson didn't even trust him – he'd proved that by being willing to shoot him, twice – but he had gotten between him and the danger.
He looked over at Mr. Lexington, who was watching for enemies, but also had a reassuring hand on the shoulder of the younger man next to him, Robert, a man he'd just met.
Mr. Lexington glanced his way. Seeing Renzo looking at him, his eyes darted down to Mr. Johnson, then back to Renzo. His eyes were full of worry, full of questions. Renzo realized that he was wondering if Mr. Johnson was worse, or needed something. Renzo looked down. Mr. Johnson was calm, breathing well, and looked strong (considering the circumstances). Renzo smiled, relieved to see him look so steady. He looked back at Mr. Lexington, and was rewarded with seeing his hero beam approval and thanks at him, before turning back to scanning the sky and ground for enemies.
Renzo wasn't sure when Mr. Lexington had become a hero to him, but he was. Mr. Lexington trusted him, too. He'd proved that over and over, asking him to do things, and telling others to trust him.
He looked at Robert, about whom he knew very little, other than he'd been glad to be around other 'Christians,' and that he knew how to operate and maintain a buggy, and liked to drive fast. Oh, and he appreciated that wildflowers were beautiful. Even as he watched out the window in warfare mode, he was holding and sniffing some of the wildflowers that Mr. Davis the chaplain had gathered during practice landings, just to share with people who were stuck underground and so didn't get to see flowers much.
Renzo's past broke into pieces and let some truth shine in. People could care about other people, not just society or science or the future. They could be self-sacrificing. To enjoy beauty was not a weakness. People were worthwhile, even when they were damaged or defective. The people around him had proved these things and more, just by the way they lived. There was something else that they'd proved to him, but it wasn't quite clear yet. It had something to do with the difference between Nyssatun and Annextun. Nyssatun had been ugly, cruel; he'd felt like he was back in the KinderFormer, with the self-centered teachers openly out to destroy the gentle, caring ones.
He looked around at the other men again. Mr. Lexington and Mr. Johnson hadn't been like the people of Nyssatun, even when threatened. Robert, too, had seemed different, even before he'd announced he was a Christian. They were like Mr. Davis the chaplain, and Nurse Chan, and some of the others at Annextun. They all saw things that others didn't. They also seemed to have a light in and around them; not a literal light, but it was real, and it was there, even if he didn't know what to call it. Renzo wanted that light more than he wanted anything else. He didn't know how to get it, though. He wasn't sure he could.
Able's lifeless face stared at him from out of his memory, throwing darkness over all his hopes.
Mr. Johnson groaned in pain. Renzo tried to comfort him, but it was so hard, so hard, while wrapped up in so much darkness.
"How'd sh
e fly!?" Leo called out as he ran toward the copter as it touched ground. He noticed an air-to-air missile was missing and snapped to a stop. "Don't tell me we had a misfire!" he wailed.
Harvey decided he liked Leo more and more. What more could a pilot ask for than an engineer or mechanic who took even possible malfunctions personally?
"She flew fine, Leo. I fired the missile on purpose. I'll tell you later. We've got a guy in the back who needs medical help and I mean now. Get a team and a gurney."
Leo did him one better. He sent his fastest runners to fetch a gurney and to make sure the medical staff was assembled, while sweeping tools off a large equipment cart, making the top available for a patient. They'd meet the gurney midway, deciding then whether to transfer or keep going with the cart. He threw tarps on top to spare the patient the discomfort of lying on metal, grabbed straps, and was at the cargo door seconds after the door got opened from the inside. Having sent only Harvey and Anthony out, he was expecting to haul Anthony out of an empty bird. It was jarring to see Anthony helping hand someone else out, from out of a thicket of flowers, dune buggy, and people; and even more jarring when he saw it was Joel, who Leo increasingly thought of as an honorary son. To his credit, he didn't