Epic: Book 03 - Hero (34 page)

Boris was the first to notice Svetlana approaching. The medic walked into the cafeteria alone, her standard uniform replaced with a simple gray and pink sweat suit. As soon as she saw Boris and the others, she approached them.

Travis raised his head in acknowledgment as she neared, smiling faintly. “Hey, Sveta.”

Svetlana returned the smile and lowered herself between William and Esther. “Hello, Travis, everyone. How are all of you doing?”

“
I guess how we should be,” said Travis.

“
How’s Derrick?” asked William between bites.

Svetlana cleared her throat in an effort to sound professional. “He will be fine. He does not have anything to threaten his life. He will need to recover, but we will have him back in a couple of weeks. They have good treatment for his injury here.” She looked at Travis again. “Have you seen Varya?”

“
No, why?”

“
I was just wondering. I visited Jayden and I thought she would be there.”

“
How’s Jay doing?”

A span of awkwardness ensued before she answered. “He does not realize how bad his condition is. Or he does not want to realize.” Her frown deepened. “He told me he was ready to start rehabilitation. I told him first to rest. It was hard to know what else to say. He cannot even move yet.” Then she brightened. “I visited Becan, too. He should be back very soon, in limited action. Maybe even in a few days.”

Esther continued to stare at her porridge. She had yet to acknowledge Svetlana at all.

“
Did you tell them about Clarke?” Travis asked.

“
Becan, yes,” Svetlana answered, frowning. “I did not think it wise to tell Jayden yet. Not until he recovers more.”

“
We need Becan back.”

“
I agree.” She allowed the faintest of grins to emerge. “Where is Flopper?”

Travis chuckled softly. “I fed him some scraps. He’s still in the ship.”

“
Who’s Flopper?” asked William.

“
That’s the dog.”

The demolitionist looked disgusted. “You named it
Flopper
? Dude, that name sucks!”

Svetlana looked at him a wryly. “It will be good to have
Flopper
. It will be something different. Maybe, I do not know, we can keep him? The poor dog does not have a home.” When no one answered, she said determinedly, “I will ask Scott. Maybe having a dog will make him happy. I think it will.”

Next to her, Esther’s nostrils began to flare. She played anxiously with her spoon.

“
This is a hard time for him, for everyone,” Svetlana went on, “but we must believe things will improve. In tragic times, sometimes people find strength. I believe things will get better soon.”

“
You really think so?” asked Travis.

She smiled. “Of course. That is why I am here.”

“
Good enough for me.”

Then it happened.

It was too sudden to predict or prevent. In a single, emotionally driven burst, Esther swept her arm across the table. Her body whirled Svetlana’s way. Svetlana didn’t even have time to finch; Esther’s entire bowl of porridge slammed into her face. A wave of oatmeal crashed over her head.

Everything stopped, from the conversation at the table to the motion in the cafeteria. Travis, Boris, and William’s mouths simultaneously fell, as Esther’s face twisted with hatred.

“
Do you even sodding hear yourself
talk
?” The scout screamed at the top of her lungs as she rose to her feet. “Things will get better because
you’re
here?”

Svetlana’s mouth hung open in shock. Globs of porridge dripped from her hair and slid down her face. The plastic bowl fell to the floor.

Esther went on. “You’re a catastrophe on so many levels, it pains me to think! You’ve caused nothing but tension with David, you’ve cut us off from Dostoevsky completely, and if things weren’t proper wrecked enough, on the battlefield you’re a bloody disgrace!”

The scout pointed at herself. “I am the
last
person to sound supercilious when it comes to performance on a mission. I have made my mistakes. It’s called being flustered.” Her finger turned to Svetlana. “But in Chernobyl, you were nowhere
near
flustered. Flustered means you get nervous and press the wrong button, or you drop ammunition while loading a gun. All of that is well and understandable. But not so with you. You didn’t know how to shoot, you didn’t know how to move, you didn’t know how to act. You couldn’t even tell the difference between a woman and a flesh-eating alien. You could’ve gotten us
killed
!”

Svetlana’s stare remained frozen during the entire outburst.

“
Don’t think for a second we don’t know why you’re here. Oh, I’m sure Scott Remington isn’t in your lusty little dreams. I’m sure your motives are
completely
platonic.” Her sarcasm was only matched by her scowl.

Esther shoved in her chair. “So while you sit here, bamboozling everyone into thinking you’re some kind of saint while you doll up for the lieutenant, I’ll be busy trying to improve. I’ll be trying to salvage whatever dignity this unit has left by working to make myself the best I can be. Because
that
, Svetlana, is what Scott Remington needs.” She tightened her lips. “He most certainly doesn’t need
you
.”

“
Enjoy supper.” With those words, the scout whirled around and stalked out of the cafeteria. The glass doors swung shut in her wake, as the whole of the cafeteria looked on in disbelief.

The silence in the cafeteria was deafening. Every pair of eyes—and there were hundreds—watched until Esther was out of view. Then they turned on Svetlana.

Porridge still dribbled down her face, sliding in wet clumps from her hairline. When she dipped her head forward, her oatmeal-drenched bangs dangled straight down. Finally, she showed enough self-respect to wipe her face, leaving faint trails of cleanliness behind as she slung the watery clumps to the floor. Her bottom lip tensed for the first time.

William was the only observer to speak. His mouth curved into a blatant grin as his falsetto voice filled the cafeteria. “Wamp, wamp,
waaaaa
!”

Travis and Boris stared at him in shock.

Svetlana maintained her composure. Pushing back her chair, she rose to her feet, turned around, and made for the exit.

Silence prevailed again. Just as all eyes had watched Esther leave, they now watched Svetlana. Only when she was out of view did they find their next target: the oversized southerner. The man who looked as bewildered as they did, but for an entirely different reason. The man who didn’t have a clue.

“
What?” William asked.

* * *

Since he’d returned to his room hours before, Scott had been at war—with himself. He regretted his reaction to Max in the hangar. It was one of the few times that his fellow lieutenant had ever tried to reconcile anything, and Scott had rejected it as if it had meant nothing. In the wake of Captain Clarke’s death, Max had stayed calm and collected. Scott had not, and he felt as though he’d lost all remaining shreds of dignity.

Who was the horrible lieutenant now?

His back began to itch terribly, where the necrilid had punctured him in Chernobyl. The puncture wounds alone hurt fiercely, despite not being too deep. But the itching was almost too much to bear. It wasn’t venom or poison—it was a common necrilid scratch side effect.

He recalled the dog they had rescued.
Someone would have to drive into the city of Novosibirsk to dispose of the animal. He’d have to find out where there was a shelter. It was just another thing he had to do.

Since returning to
Novosibirsk
, Scott had been exhausted but unable to sleep. It ended up working out better that way. No sooner had he arrived back at The Machine than he was summoned to Confinement by Petrov, the scientist he usually visited. The Fourteenth’s Nightmen had challenged necrilids and won, and now
Novosibirsk
demanded to know more. This was fine with Scott. It was another excuse to go to Confinement and do his own kind of searching—the same searching he’d been doing there for months. Now, after winding down from the mission, he was finally ready to make the Confinement trip. He left his room, clutching the manila folder that always went with him.

They’re going to ask a thousand questions. What gave me the idea? What thought process was I following? What was my rationale?
He sighed.
There’s no way they’ll understand.
That was the truth. In the hours that followed the Chernobyl battle, the reality—and the insanity—of what he’d done had set in. It all came down to one fact: he hadn’t wanted to lose. The entire motivation for his actions was to avoid coming up short. Did that make him admirable or dangerous? In the end, though, it wouldn’t matter. The Machine would make its own judgments as it always did. And so, he continued down the hall, rounding a corner onto the main corridor.

He saw her the moment he made the turn.

It was Svetlana, with her unmistakable gait. She walked with controlled urgency, one hand at her head and the other swaying with her steps. Why was she in such a hurry? Where was she going? This was not in the direction of Room 14. When she neared, he saw that her upper body was covered in muck.

“
Svetlana?”

Before he could say anything further, she about-faced in the hall and walked away from him, swearing in Russian.

Scott hurried to stop her retreat. He caught up with her from behind. “Sveta! What happened?”

When she turned her head to respond, he saw the dripping cereal that covered her. Her voice was venomous. “I cannot deal with you right now. Please leave me alone.”

He kept his pursuit. “Sveta, stop.”

To his surprise, she complied, whirling around to point at her face. “Do you see this? Do you
see
?” She shoved him in the chest—unexpectedly hard. His back slammed against the wall. “Is
this
what I have come back for? To be mocked? To have food in my face? To be humiliated in front of the world?”

He was thoroughly baffled. What on earth was going on? “Svetlana, calm down. Just tell me what—”

“
Calm down?” She laughed mirthlessly. “Calm
down
?”

“
Sveta—”

“
This has been disaster since first hour! I cannot be a friend, I cannot fight, I cannot do anything right! I came here to be a help for
you
, and this is what I must endure? Do you even appreciate that I came?”

“
Just tell me what happened!”

“
It was Esther! ‘Polyester,’
whatever
her name is!”

Scott shook his head. This didn’t make sense. “Esther hit you in the face with porridge? What’d you do to her first?”

“
I hit her with cabbage, what do you think?” she answered sarcastically. “I did to her
nothing
!”

An operative stepped past them in the hall, staring at them curiously before he moved on.

Svetlana’s face flushed with deep red. “I’m going. I must clean this off.”

Never mind the countless other questions swirling through Scott’s mind. Where exactly was she going to clean it off? Room 14 was the other way. “Where are you going?”

“
To shower off in the locker room by the pool,” she answered, shoving past him. “I cannot go to Room 14. Esther will be there.”

Scott pursued her, deviating from Confinement’s direction.

“
Why are you following me?” she demanded. “To watch me take a shower? Sorry to disappoint, but I am only washing my head.”

“
Svetlana, please…”

She stopped, turning around to face him fully. “What is it? What do you want?”

“
What do you think?” he asked rhetorically. “I want to make sure you’re okay. I want to find out what’s going on. Do you seriously think I’m just going to walk away now?”

“
Why wouldn’t you? It is what you do best.” The moment she said it, she seemed to catch herself. She winced and turned away. “I did not mean it like that.”

Of course she meant it like that—and she was right. Not even he would deny it.

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her head, slicking back her porridge-caked hair. She faced him again. “I am sorry, Scott, but why do you want to come? Please tell me the truth. Is it obligation? Do you want to follow me for your own curiosity?”

“
I don’t want you to feel alone.”

She sighed, placing her hands on her hips.

“
I’m trying, Sveta.”

It took several seconds, but finally she nodded. It seemed more out of defeat than anything else. “Then come if you must. But please let me hurry.” After an agreeable exchange, she turned and resumed her trek to the pool. Scott followed behind.

They walked into the pool room together, making their way to the woman’s locker room door before stopping. Svetlana lowered her head. “Really, Scott, you do not need to—”

“
Svetlana,” he tactfully interrupted. “I care about you. I know you think I don’t, but I do. Take your time, I’ll wait outside till you’re finished.”

She finally acquiesced, nodding but still refusing to face him. Placing his manila folder on the floor, Scott reached out to touch her shoulder and guide her around. “Hey…” Once she faced him, he placed his hands at her sides.