Matt Archer: Bloodlines (Matt Archer #4) (13 page)

Two days passed without a single monster sighting. The Australian
military reported nothing notable, either. By the third morning, I couldn’t
take waiting anymore and did four sets of push-ups, jogged fifteen laps out to
the site of the brawl and back, then sparred with Nguyen before Johnson asked
me what I thought I was doing.

“If I don’t work out,” I panted, ducking under Nguyen’s arm
as he threw a right cross, “I’ll go crazy, sir.”

“You’re stitched up like Frankenstein and you look like
you’ve been in a bus crash. A hard workout in not my idea of a good time for you,”
the captain said. “Stand down.”

Nguyen immediately backed off and once I stopped moving, I
realized I ached all over. The stitches in my back had pulled a little, too.
The worst part, though? The workout had been holding back the flood of anger,
grief and worry I’d been storing up since the medical team flew away with my
best friend and Dad on board. Keeping myself in physical misery allowed me to
avoid thinking about dead colonels and amputated feet.

But now that I stopped, it hit me all over again, like a
brutal punch to the chest. Johnson watched me with sad eyes as I paced back and
forth, trying to not to lose it.

“It’s okay, Archer,” he rumbled. “You’re all right.”

I wasn’t, though, and his kindness wounded me more than
anything else. Not sure what else to do, I took off running as hard as I could.
I didn’t stop until I reached the battlefield. Most of the dirt was still
churned up with heavy footprints and claw marks, but not the spot I stood on.
Because this was where he died. Here the dirt was smooth, except for two
indentions the exact size and shape of my knees. I sank down and pressed the
palms of my hands to my eyes.

The colonel’s funeral was in two days and I was stuck in
Australia. I wouldn’t be there. This was the only place I could say goodbye.
“Tink, why wasn’t I faster?”

Matt, you were faster than ever before and came back
ripped and torn all over. Your body has limitations, and we need you strong at
the right moments.
She sighed.
We’ve had this talk before: we can’t save
everyone. I know you want to, but if you keep doing this to yourself, you’ll
break. I can make you a protector of men, but there may come a time when I
can’t put you back together afterwards.

“I want to go home,” I told her, and I hated myself for sounding
so weak. Didn’t change anything, though. I wanted to go home.

“We’re packing up tomorrow,” a deep voice said behind me.
“Just got the order. I’m taking you to Perth to see Cruessan and your dad, then
we’ll head to the States once they can travel.”

“So we’re done here?”

“Maybe not for good, but for now.” Johnson squatted down
next to me. “But you’re right. You need to go home, see your girl. Get fussed
over by your momma.”

“That makes me sound about twelve years old,” I said,
staring across the plain. We’d burned the carcasses of the monsters. There’d
been so many, it’d taken us most of the last few days, and I didn’t think the
stench of smoke and death would ever fade. “A real soldier doesn’t get fussed
over by his mom.”

“You think so, huh?” He chuckled. “My momma makes me a sweet
potato pie and a roast turkey every time I come home.”

I smiled a little at the thought of the captain, this giant
bear of a guy, sitting at a dinner table while his mother force fed him a third
helping. “Do you have a girl back home, sir?”

Now he laughed for real. “Archer, I have three girls back
home.”

“Player.”

“That’s right.” He squeezed my shoulder. “The colonel was a
good, good man. The best thing for us to do is keep it together and see this
thing through for him. It’s what he’d want.”

“Did he have a family?”

“A twenty-year-old daughter and an ex-wife,” he said. “In
our line of work, it’s tough to stay married.”

I didn’t doubt it. My parents were living proof. “When we
get back, I probably should send a card or something to his daughter. That’s
what you’re supposed to do, right? Send cards?”

“Yeah. It’d be hard to explain who you are, though. Maybe
we’ll just send her flowers from the 10
^th
Airborne.”

Better than nothing…better still if I had killed off those
Dingoes before they took her father. “If we’re going to leave tomorrow, maybe I
should rest up some.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

“Dude, you look like hell,” Will croaked.

I laughed. “Look who’s talking.”

He shifted in the hospital bed. “Yeah, you win.”

Will was pale and his arm had a big cast on it, but
otherwise he looked okay. Well, aside from the normal healing bruises and
scabs. I had those, too, so they didn’t really count.

“Seen your dad yet?”

I stared at the ugly blanket at the foot of Will’s bed, not
sure I was ready to talk about it. “He was asleep. I’ll stop by again later.”

He really had been asleep, but I could’ve stuck around until
he woke up. It was just…the sight of him hooked up to a heart monitor and IV,
with his leg resting propped up on cushions and a chest tube snaking out of his
hospital gown, made my palms go slick with sweat. Uncle Mike had stood with a
hand on my shoulder as we watched Dad struggle to breathe, even now.

“The doctors say once they clear his chest cavity of air and
fluid, the lung will reinflate on its own. The punctures have given him some
trouble, but he’ll heal,” Mike had said.

The unspoken question was “then what?”

Now I wouldn’t meet Will’s eye. I didn’t want pity or
sympathy from a guy in a hospital bed, not when I walked in here on both legs.
Especially given my next stop. “Hey, if you’re okay, I’m going to check in on
Davis.”

“I wheeled over there yesterday. He’s doing better than I
expected.”

Even hearing that, I dreaded this visit more than seeing Dad
all banged up. I trudged down the hallway, avoiding nurses who gave me funny
looks because of my camo. Or maybe because of my yellow-green bruises. Or maybe
it was the pinched pain tugging at my eyes. Royal Perth hospital was nice, and
one of the biggest in the city, but it was still a hospital, and I didn’t like
them. Not after baby Kate’s stint in the NICU or my own time spent attached to
an IV. Still, their Royal Flying Doctor Service had saved both Davis’s and
Dad’s lives, so I knew how lucky I was to be here.

When I reached Davis’s room, a familiar rumbling laugh came
from inside. If Johnson was here, that would make things easier. I knocked,
then let myself in.

Davis sat up in bed, his injured leg wound in gauze like a
mummy. The bandages started just above his knee, and ended in a stump mid-calf.
I tried not stare, but it was hard to tear my eyes away.

“Archer,” Davis said in his usual dry tone, “It’s not going
to bite you. Why don’t you come in and have a seat.”

Flushing, I slunk inside and took the chair next to Johnson.
It was one of those uncomfortable wooden straight-backed numbers and I fidgeted
around, not sure what to do with my hands. Or my legs. Or, hell, all of me.

“Anyway,” Davis said, “They’ll transfer me back to Walter
Reed in a few weeks to fit me with a prosthesis and start my rehab. It should
be okay, given that it’s just the foot, and not the knee as well. The general
even thinks I can maintain my post at the Pentagon, once I’m ready.”

He sounded so matter-of-fact about it. I couldn’t be. “I’m
sorry. I wish I could have—”

“We’re not going there.” His voice was firm, but somehow
kinder than ever. “The colonel and I both knew we were skating an edge leaving
the Pentagon, even with a team of highly trained personnel. The general wasn’t
happy, but we were going, because you needed us. Despite the risk, having us
there may’ve kept you alive, and that’s enough for me.”

Slowly my shoulders relaxed. They’d been knotted up and
hunched around my ears, and I hadn’t even realized it. For the first time—the
very first time—I started to understand: this wasn’t about me. I shouldn’t keep
burying myself in guilt because it wasn’t like with Schmitz, where I made a
rookie mistake. Now it was about the other side, and what they did to people.
And how I, along with the other wielders, could put a stop to all this.

Johnson was nodding. “See, Sergeant? I told you he’d get it
at some point.” When I shot him a startled look, he said, “Davis and I were
chatting about your self-destructive behavior the last few days. Hell, for the
last year. You only saw the dead, but never those of us who are alive because
of you. You didn’t kill Colonel Black. Those creatures did. And
you
saved the rest of us. You and Cruessan. So…” He sat up straighter, and I did
too. “You work harder than any soldier I’ve had in my command. You do damage to
yourself in an attempt to keep the rest of us from suffering. From here on out,
you need to recognize that about yourself and quit taking on the guilt of the
universe. You don’t deserve it.”

Finally I was able to smile for real and it was like the
world had brightened in the blink of my eyes. “You rehearse that speech for a
while or did you just make all that up?”

He gave me a shove. “You can be a real smartass, too, so
don’t forget that either.”

“No, sir.” Feeling lighter, I stood. “Davis, I’ll check in
on you again before we leave for D.C.”

“See if you can sneak me a cheeseburger or pizza. This
hospital food is awful,” he said.

“I didn’t think you ate unhealthy stuff like that. You
crease your BDUs and manage a clean shave even when we’re in the middle of the
desert. I figured you were a salmon and spinach kind of guy.”

“Being type A doesn’t mean I don’t eat junk food.” He
crossed his arms and glared at me. It was just like old times. “I like mustard
and pickles on my burgers.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I waved at them both and decided
it was time to see my old man.

* * *

Dad was awake and sitting up when
I arrived. He gave me a long look, and his examination was so like one of
Mamie’s laser-vision evaluations that I had to fight an urge to back out of the
room.

“It’s good to see you standing,”
he said. “Mike told me another wave came in after I passed out and you took
them on alone.”

“I had both knives, though, and
the spirits were god-awful pissed, so I made quick work of them.”

“Brave of you, son.”

I met his eyes, squirming from
the praise. “It’s my job. Brave doesn’t have much to do with it.”

“Yes, it does.”

I slid onto another one of those
wooden chairs. “Mike said you’ll be able to come home in a few days, once
they’re satisfied the lung’s healed enough.”

He shifted in bed and winced.
“I’m not looking that far ahead. The damn chest tube comes out tomorrow
morning, and I might just throw a party.”

It was pretty clear, despite his
grumbling, that he was weak. Just talking to me had robbed his face of some
color. “Where will you go? Once we’re home.”

“Ah.” Dad studied his hands for a
moment. “Not sure. I don’t…have a place in the States. I put what little I had
in storage, since I planned to be overseas for a while. I’ll need to find a new
apartment.”

“In Virginia?”

“Probably. Once I get off medical
leave, I’ll be hopping between the Pentagon and Langley. My director has
already assigned me as the liaison between the CIA and the Army for this
program.”

“What about until then?”

He shrugged. “A hotel, I guess, until I find a place.”

A hotel, when he’d need physical therapy and a walker for
two to three months? I hated to admit it, but I kind of felt bad for him.

So I did something stupid.

“You could come live with us.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to snatch them
back and eat them so they couldn’t be said again. But it was too late for that
and the touched expression on Dad’s face made it pretty hard for me to say I
was just kidding.

Cold reality must’ve set in, though, because his face fell.
“Your mother wouldn’t appreciate an invalid, estranged husband showing up on
her doorstep.”

Excuses, excuses. “Look, why don’t we go to D.C. together
and see how you’re doing. I’m not even sure I’ll get back to Billings for very
long, probably only a week or two furlough, but you should come with me.”
Funny,
I
was starting to like the idea. “If Mom won’t let you stay,
maybe you could stay at Uncle Mike’s old loft.”

He eyed me for a while, then asked, “What changed?”

“What?”

“You were pretty angry with me—and avoided me—before the
eclipse. Why are you offering to take me home like a stray puppy and hope your
mother warms up to the idea of taking me in?”

After seeing Johnson and Davis—and missing Colonel Black’s
funeral—somewhere I’d decided life was too short to hold grudges. I wanted a
better explanation as to why he left, but for now, I was happy he was alive and
here. I couldn’t let him off the hook that easy, though. He had some work to
do.

Smirking, I said, “I want to see how you handle being the
father of three smartass kids.” The smirk evolved into a full-on grin. “And I’m
dying to see the look on Mom’s face when you hobble through our front door.”

“You are a cruel and unusual boy, Matthew.” But he was
chuckling…well, as much as the chest tube would let him. “All right. We’ll go
to Billings.”

I couldn’t wait.

We arrived in D.C. ten days later to prepare for our debrief
with the general. The air was soft and warm and the smell of flowers hung over
everything. Uncle Mike went straight home to see Badass Aunt Julie and baby
Kate, but there wasn’t room for me, Will, Johnson or Dad in their two bedroom
condo in McLean. When I popped in for a visit, I reminded them to buy a house
with a yard for the pony I planned to buy Katie, and he said they’d look during
our furlough. He didn’t seem too thrilled about the pony, though.

The hotel stay wasn’t bad. Plenty of hot water for showers,
and our rooms had a Nintendo console, so Will and I spent the first night
pigging out on pizza delivery while playing some epic rounds of
Mario Kart.
He beat me, eleven out of eighteen, despite the broken arm, so I crashed into
him during the last race just to be an asshat.

Dad hobbled around with a cane, refusing to use a walker on
the grounds that it made him look old and frail. I thought about telling him
that trying to look tough was stupid if it delayed his recovery, but he was an
adult, so I let him make his own decisions—dumb or not.

Too soon, we were called in for our meeting. The Pentagon
was just as bland and office-building-like as usual, but something felt wrong
as soon as we walked through the doors. Even though we were dressed in civilian
clothes instead of BDUs, when Will and I went through security the magic passes
we used to let the guards know not to ask questions about us or our business
caused raised eyebrows and whispers. One of the MPs went to speak with his
sergeant, who came over to examine our ID cards. They stared for a long time
before letting us through. I didn’t know what that was about, but it set me on
edge and I kept looking over my shoulder while we walked the halls.

When we finally made it to the assigned room, I stopped
short. We were meeting in the auditorium from the wielders’ summit a year and a
half ago. Last time, we’d started out in a conference room, but had to move
here because my sensitivity to the blade-spirits made being close to the other
four wielders unbearable.

That meant only one thing: Will and I weren’t the only
wielders in the Pentagon at the moment; a small group wouldn’t need a room this
size otherwise.

Aunt Julie was waiting for us out front, looking more severe
than usual in her Class B uniform—a straight navy skirt and white blouse—with
her hair in a tight bun. “Good, you’re here. Cruessan, you need to sit in the
back on the right side facing the stage. Archer…we’re going to try to put you in
the back on the left. Go all the way to the end of the last row, okay? If
that’s too much, we’ll put you in the observation room again.”

“Who all’s here?” I asked while I waited for Will and
Johnson to go inside and find a seat.

“Parker and Ramirez,” she said.

“What about Jorge?” It didn’t seem right to have a surprise
wielders’ meeting without the knives’ creator.

“He knows about the meeting, but we all agreed he shouldn’t
come into the country right now.”

I turned to Mike. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. I hope.” He gave Julie one of those looks that
allowed them to read each other’s minds, some sort of psychic connection maybe.

With a tiny shake of her head, she said, “You should go in
now. We need to get started and the general is already waiting.”

He and I pushed through the doors and immediately my ears
started ringing. I took big gulps of air as dark spots danced in my eyes.
Stumbling, I made my way to the back corner of the room. My vision, like last
time, was already going dim.

“Easy, Chief,” Mike whispered. “We’re almost there, and I
waved at Parker to tell him to move to the center of the room.”

“I’m having trouble staying upright,” I said. “I may not
make it that far.”

“Parker!” Mike clapped a hand on my shoulder and steered me
to a chair. “Can you sit closer to Ramirez?”

“I’ll sit in his lap if that’ll help, sir,” Parker called.
The joke rang hollow, though. These guys knew I was in trouble.

I’d barely sat down and put my head between my knees when
there was a crash on the other side of the auditorium.

“Stay with him!” Mike barked to someone I couldn’t see.

“Hang tight, son,” Dad said to my right. “I have no idea
what’s going on with you two, but we’ll fix it.”

Us
two?
“What’s…who?”

“Will collapsed.”

“This…is crazy. He…and I have been…around a third wielder.
We…were fine.”

“Were you inside, in a closed space, at the time?”

No…no we hadn’t been. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Major, I’m taking Matt outside.”

“Wait, stay there,” Mike said. “We’re moving Cruessan.”

A minute ticked by, then two, and slowly the room stopped
spinning and my vision improved. Another minute and I could sit up straight
without feeling like I might die.

“Better?” Dad had worried creases around his eyes. “You’re
pale and shaking.”

“Killer migraines will do that to a guy,” I said. “I’m okay
now, though.”

Dad shook his head. “So being around too many knives is a
problem?”

“It’s not just the knives. It’s the wielders, too. We carry
our knife-spirits with us. I get…overdosed on them somehow. Looks like Will
does, too.”

You’re both very sensitive to our presence. That’s good,
even if it doesn’t seem that way. I am sorry it causes you pain, though.
Tink sounded a little too smug for me to believe her concern was real. She
caused me pain all the time and didn’t care then, either.

Now that I could sit upright without vomiting, I focused on
the right side of the room. Parker and Ramirez were sitting two rows apart at
the front of the room. Because it, like any other auditorium, sloped downward, I
could see that Captain Parker’s reddish-blond flattop had a nice bald spot
starting on the crown of his head.

Major Ramirez turned and caught me staring. His dark eyes
glinted as he jerked his chin my direction. “Among the land of the living now?”

Being in the same room with a demon’s POW made my little
spazzes seem stupid in comparison. Ramirez had survived weeks at the mercy of
the fallen god in Afghanistan…a dizzy spell was nothing. I gave him a crisp
nod. “Yes, Major.”

Uncle Mike slipped back into the room. “Cruessan’s conscious
and good to go now, too. Looks like we can’t have either of these guys too
close with the others.”

He came to sit next to me and Dad while General Richardson
lumbered up to the front of the stage. Despite his limited audience, he used
the lectern. I was supremely glad he didn’t use the microphone, though. The
general had a voice to rival a sonic boom, which went with his oversized head.
For a man of medium height and build, it made him look like a bobble-head
figurine.

“Thanks for coming. We need to keep this short.” He turned
to Aunt Julie. “Captain, make sure we’re locked up.”

Julie left her place on the stage and disappeared out a side
door. A minute later she came in through the back and gave the general a thumbs
up.

“All right. Sorry for the paranoid behavior, but we have a
situation.” The general rubbed a hand across his face. “I know you’re wondering
why I brought you all in, especially with how many new reports of supernatural
activity we’ve been receiving.”

After our trouble getting past security, a bad feeling
settled in my stomach.

“Losing the colonel wasn’t just a blow to us personally and
as a team,” General Richard said. “It’s worse than that. His death became a
catalyst to boil an issue that had been simmering for a while. Put simply, it
shined a light on our program. Now, Congressman Tarantino—he’s our man inside
the Armed Services Committee—is trying to cover things up a little better, but
we’re feeling a little exposed at the moment, so we need to go about our business
quietly for the time being. No big incursions, no full-on assaults.”

Good—just what I wanted. Smaller teams, easier to manage. I
nodded in approval.

The general frowned my direction before saying, “Here’s the
drill. Ramirez, you’ll head to Europe to look into all the issues going on
there at present. We’ll have you start in Poland and work your way west.
Parker, I want you to cover Asia. China isn’t the only location on the radar
over there and we’re hearing some really strange chatter coming out of Indonesia.”

I raised my hand. “What about me and Cruessan?”

“Cruessan’s out of commission for a while with that arm,”
the general said. “As for you, I need a wielder stateside, just in case.” He
met my gaze. “You’re going home until the Montana eclipse, and you’re leaving
today.”