Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (57 page)

“That’s….good,” Jenkins said, his thoughts drifting to how he could protect the woman.  He would rather the rest of the Crows found their way to the mess hall so they could have a unified front.  “Are you all coming here?”

“Yes and no,” Goldstein said, his voice trailing off.  Ryan’s eyes narrowed at that and he straightened up to his full height.


What
?” he asked, his voice low and anger creeping into his behavior.

“I have Abrams and Charlotte with me; we’re coming to you.  But Feldman.  Well, you know how he is.  He’s staying behind.”  Jenkins was thankful that his hand was already against the barricade, because otherwise he would have fallen to the floor.  He breathed in and out with effort and seemed to be fighting for composure.  After just a moment of this he turned to look at Carver, who was looking down at the floor and shaking his head.  Jenkins removed his hand from the barricade and gripped his rifle tightly.

“Does he still have his helmet?” the messiah figure asked.  If Feldman had his helmet he could still be reached on Comms.  He wasn’t going to let the giant kill himself without at least trying to talk the man out of it.

“No, he doesn’t.  He… well…”

“What, Goldstein?”

“Laurence’s helmet is… nearby,” Goldstein said, trailing off again.  It was a grim thought, but useful.

“Get here fast, Goldstein.  I’m gonna talk to Feldman in the meantime,” Jenkins said before switching frequencies to the private channel in Laurence’s helmet. 

                -

Feldman had changed his position and was leaning against the protected corner of the hallway when he heard the crackle of the speakers inside Laurence’s helmet.  He opened his droopy eyelids and peered around the corner as he heard his friend’s voice.

“Feldman!  Feldman, you fucking idiot, you pick up this helmet right now!”

The giant stared at the black thing for a little while before looking back down the hallway.  He didn’t know what Jenkins was playing at, but he wasn’t going to move from this spot.

“Gregory,” the young Crow said over the channel.  “Please pick it up.  I’m begging you,” Jenkins continued in a soft voice.  At that Feldman knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his vigil.  He lumbered over to the piece of metal and plastic and picked it up with his left hand.  He brought it to his ear as he watched the doorway beyond the corner. 

“What do you want, Ryan?”

“I want you to get back here, Greg.  You don’t have to be there alone.  You don’t have to die alone,” Jenkins said in a sincere tone.  Feldman closed his eyes briefly as he considered the child’s words.  He didn’t want to die alone, but he knew that this was where it was going to happen.

“I don’t have to, Ryan, but someone needs to guard this hallway.  I can’t let everybody be surrounded.  I’ll just have to die alone, my friend.  I’ve made my peace with it,” Feldman said in his usual somber tone.

“Well, I haven’t!  You’re my friend, Greg, and I’m not going to let you go out like that.  Just come back and we can go out together.  Just like one of your old books,” Jenkins said urgently.  The giant had to smile at the remark.  He really was fond of the boy.

“Well, like you told me, it doesn’t ever end up like the books, Ryan.  Some of us just get trampled and die,” he said just before noticing that three shadows had formed against the windows of the doorway.  He readied his sword and stepped back from the corner of the hallway.

“Fuck what I said, Feldman!  I was wrong and you know it!”

“You weren’t wrong, Ryan, you were just being realistic,” Feldman said as he looked down at his gut.  He knew he wouldn’t last another thirty minutes, especially if he was going to be swinging his sword.  The giant debated on telling his friend and letting the argument end quickly.  He didn’t have much time before the corporate thugs were upon him.

“Screw that, Feldman.  Realism isn’t what this is about.  Hell, we’re supposed to be idealists!  I’d much rather take your position than rely on mine.  I killed myself, if you recall,” Jenkins stated sarcastically over Comms.  Feldman shook his head at the boy’s statements.

“There’s a time for it, Ryan, and this isn’t it.  You’re just going to have to let me die,” Feldman said as he peeked around the corner and noticed the first EOSF soldier creep through the doorway.

“No, I’m not, Feldman.  I’m coming to you,” Jenkins said.  The giant opened his eyes wide in alarm and ducked back behind the corner before continuing in a hushed voice.

“No, you’re not, Ryan!” he wanted to shout, but it came out as a whisper.  “They’re here already and I’m not going to let you screw up the mission-”

“Fuck the mission, Feldman.  We’re probably dying anyway.  The best we can hope for is to die well.  And I don’t know if you realized it, Greg,” Jenkins said as the giant stood against the wall and prepared to fight, “but you made quite the impression on me.  I can’t live with being a coward anymore; I can’t live watching my friends die in front of me.  You can’t show me evil, real life evil that I can stop and expect me to do nothing!”

Those final words slammed into the giant and took the breath from him.  His eyes were no longer droopy; his hands were shaking.  With no provocation, with no hint, Jenkins had repeated Feldman’s thought in his own way.  The giant felt like the universe had given him his answer.  His echo…

“Hurry,” Feldman said in a low voice.  He wasn’t going to deny this.  This was right; this was perfect.

This was what he was waiting for all his life.

-

Jenkins took his hand away from his helmet and started to walk to the door.  He was halfway through the menagerie of barricades when his arm was held back.  The angry messiah figure whipped his head around to find the wounded black man staring him down with the one eye left to him. 

“You’re not going.”

“He’s going to die, Templeton.  I’m going.”

“Your life is more important,” Templeton began, but Jenkins slapped the revolutionary’s arm away and shoved his finger into the thin man’s face, rage pouring out of his eyes.

“Stop saying that!  It is NOT true.  I’m one of the worst ones here; I
killed
myself.  Each one of these men that have died here were
better
than me,” Jenkins roared, but Templeton shook his head and grunted.

“Doesn’t matter.  The revolution…”

“Will you just
stop
, Templeton?  It’s all fucked, anyway.  You’re the one who gave up at the mere mention of the EOSF.  What’s it matter
where
I die?  You can protect me all you like, but my odds really aren’t that much worse out there with Feldman.  Hell, they’ll probably aim at him the entire time, Templeton,” Jenkins said as he shoved the thin revolutionary away from him.  “I’m not going to let my friend die out there alone.  I won’t allow it; my entire
being
won’t allow it.  And seriously, this,” he said before waving his hand in front of him, “is exactly what a hero messiah is supposed to do.  You’re not
letting
me go, Templeton,” Jenkins said before walking up to the man and staring at him from just a few centimeters away.

“I’m just going to leave,” he said before turning and walking towards the entrance.  As he left he turned briefly to face his old mentor.  Carver looked sullen, but Jenkins knew that the old Crow approved of the action.  The newborn Crow stopped momentarily, considering what might happen in the next few minutes, but looked back up at his mentor with a sad, knowing smile.

“When they get here, be sure to take care of the three of them.  They’re important to me,” he said, looking earnestly at the veteran.  Carver scoffed at the remark and raised an eyebrow.

“And they’re not important to me?  Just go, kid,” Carver said before nodding towards the entrance.  Jenkins nodded and turned to leave.  He didn’t even bother to say anything to Templeton or the broken revolutionary in the corner.  They didn’t matter at all.

The newborn burst out of the doorway and considered himself lucky that the EOSF hadn’t stormed the main entrance yet.  He had considered the possibility, but it would have interfered with his plans.  Jenkins turned to his right and started to sprint down the alternate hallway to the north entrance.  He didn’t have much time to support his friend, but he swore to himself that he would get there in time.  Ryan didn’t give himself the option to fail in this.

He could hear gunfire echoing through the halls and hoped he wasn’t too late.  Feldman was formidable in any case, but even he couldn’t survive a full assault.  Jenkins rounded the next corner and cursed as he saw Feldman breaking cover.  The young soldier raised his rifle and ran as fast as he could.

The giant hadn’t expected to last long by himself, but he had hoped that Jenkins would arrive before he would have to rush headlong into his swan song.  Feldman let the thought fall away as he broke cover and saw the three corporate soldiers in front of him.  Any one of them could kill him with a lucky bullet to his face and the giant knew it.  He hoped that his sword would be intimidating enough to catch them off guard.

Feldman had advanced three steps before the first, blindingly hot bullet pierced his shoulder.  It was enough to stop a lesser man, but the giant had become used to this kind of pain; he had made a career of it.  The giant swung the blade down upon the nearest EOSF soldier and could hear the plasma burning through the sleek, metallic armor.  The screams of the man were drowned out by the continuing gunfire, and as Feldman continued swinging the burning energy through the man’s midsection he felt another burst of rounds sink into the mesh of armor along his right side.  Now the giant was dead twice-over, but the man’s brain just wouldn’t admit it.

“They’re here, Jenkins!  Three of them!” the messiah figure heard Carver yell over Comms, followed by an explosion.  The young Crow hoped that it was one of their own grenades, but he didn’t put much faith in it.  He didn’t much thought into it, either.  Jenkins was much more concerned with saving his friend from his grisly fate.  The rifleman rounded the corner just in time to see the giant cut the first corporate thug in half, which was just as impressive as always.

But he also saw the giant suffer under the bursts from the other soldiers.  It was enough to enrage the new messiah.  Jenkins took aim carefully and shot at the soldier on the other side of the hallway who had wounded his friend.  It was not enough to kill him, but it certainly stunned the soldier, which was all that Feldman needed.

The giant sprang after the man who had dealt the second death blow and brought his burning blade horizontally across the man’s midsection.  Feldman heard that familiar pop and hoped he wouldn’t have to smell that awful odor once more.  He realized as the blade passed through the man that his senses were already starting to dull.  The giant almost smiled as he realized that he would be spared that one torture.

Jenkins had already switched his target to the last soldier, hoping that Feldman would be able to make one last swing.  The corporate soldier had been aiming at Jenkins and sent a few rounds towards the Crow, but after his last companion had been split by Feldman’s attacks the EOSF soldier had shifted his priorities.  Jenkins aimed at the man and sent a few rounds his way, but the bullets passed by harmlessly.

Feldman was about to spring forward for one last attack when he felt the last of his strength leave him.  It was forced out by a hail of gunfire from his last opponent in this lifetime.  The giant sank to the ground as his body no longer was able to support his weight.  Feldman looked up in time to see the career soldier lift his gun to aim at his exposed head.

“No!” he heard from a few meters behind him, and before Feldman could close his eyes and prepare for death he saw the soldier stagger from a bullet to the chest.  The man turned slightly but before he could raise his weapon another bullet struck him in the shoulder.  Feldman watched as the man tried to regain his balance but another bullet struck him in the knee.  As the soldier fell, the giant saw one last bullet sink into the mesh surrounding the thug's neck and an arterial spray erupted out of the hole.

Feldman laid down and felt the burning bullets throughout his torso.  He was not going to make it; medicine held no use for him now.  As he looked at the ceiling with his droopy eyelids he heard another instance of gunfire.  He assumed that it was Jenkins finishing the job he had begun.

“Holy…. Holy shit!  Abrams got them from behind with a grenade…. They’re… they’re,” Goldstein said over Comms, but Feldman couldn’t be bothered to listen to the noise.  Jenkins appeared above him holding his helmet before throwing it away and kneeling down beside his friend.  Feldman felt his head being lifted up and he soon realized that Jenkins was holding his head in his lap.

“God, Feldman, everything about you is heavy.  Your head weighs more than my arm,” Jenkins said with a smile, tears brimming in his eyes.  “Must be all those extra brains you have.”  Feldman had to smile at that, though he didn’t know if it showed.

“You know… neanderthals…they had bigger brains than us…” Feldman said, weakly.  He could feel his life leaving him as they spoke.  Jenkins laughed briefly and shook his head, a trail of tears forming on his left cheek.

“Don’t you start, Feldman,” Jenkins said before letting the smile disappear from his face.  “I tried, Greg.  I really tried to get here in time.  I’m so sorry,” the messiah figure said as he brought his hand to the giant’s face.  As he did he realized that his glove was covered in blood and dirt and in his annoyance he ripped the glove off before returning his hand to his friend’s cheek.  Feldman appeared grateful for the warmth.

“It’s…fine, Ryan.  It wasn’t your fault.  I was…. I was already,” Feldman started, but Jenkins didn’t let him finish.

“It doesn’t matter, Feldman.  I could have saved you,” Jenkins said, his voice wavering and his throat hurting from the strain.  The giant chuckled at that and could taste the metallic flavor already filling his mouth.

“You… did, Ryan.  You did,” Feldman said, his eyes drooping just a little more.  Jenkins furrowed his brow and sniffed back the tears and snot that were already threatening at his composure.

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