Revelations of a Grey Coat Hunter

16

     Monty jumped out of the chopper as soon as the door was open enough to squeeze out. He bolted down the stairs, only to be thwarted at the first door. Reynolds, who was following ahead of Conrad's hovering gurney at a much slower pace, frowned at him. "Slow down," he warned Monty sternly. "You know there's a lot of protection at the entrance, and I can't resurrect you, ok? Don't know how many times I have to tell people that."

     Monty forced himself to slow down. All he wanted was to get away from everyone and find a quiet place to think. But, of course, Reynolds had a point. He waited patiently for the Hunter to approach. "Is this what you do, Reynolds?" Monty asked as Reynolds placed his ungloved hand on the scanner. "You just go out there whenever anyone gets blasted and put them back together?"

     "No, because I'm not just a healer, no more than he's just a heat neutralizer, or you're just a pyro," Reynolds replied sharply, pulling his glove back on. "I'm a Hunter. I get sent out on missions and torn up just as much as everyone else. And guess what? I can't heal myself. I was on standby today because of you. That's protocol for the first couple of missions a Hunter Candidate goes on, to have a backup Hunter and a medical team close by. I happen to be on both."

     It was the most Monty had gotten Reynolds to talk on the subject since the healer had spilled the truth about Number Nine. Since then, whenever Monty mentioned it, Reynolds would clam up. Monty was getting the distinct impression that he'd already said too much. Reynolds certainly was jumpy. Even now, as they were approaching Benji's bridge and Reynolds was reaching his hand over the side, giving the shadow troll a chance to scent him, the Hunter's eyes seemed to be trying to look everywhere at once.

     Monty kept close to Conrad's gurney as he reached into his pocket for Benji's treat. His trainer was still sedated. Conrad's eyes were closed now, but he blinked them sleepily open every so often, only to close them again a few seconds later. Last time, they'd still been inky black. "So what happens now?" Monty asked.

     "Now, I take his sorry ass back to the infirmary, we patch up as much as we can with tissue regenerators, and then I do the rest." Reynolds grimaced. "After that, I'll probably spend some time crashed out there myself, possibly with IVs in my arms to get me back on my feet as quickly as possible because they hate having me down. Unlike you, I can't be touched by a tactile healer and suddenly be ready to go again. But I've still gotta be ready to heal at a moment's notice. This is why I hate being stationed at the lighthouse. Healing this kind of damage drains me pretty badly, but hey, it doesn't matter, right? No one gives a shit about the toll healing takes on healers."

     "Listen, Reynolds," Monty began, trying hard to pick and choose his words, "I appreciate everything you do for us. I really, really do."

     Reynolds blinked at him, surprised. "You do?"

     "I do," Monty stressed. "We all do, even if no one else takes the time to thank you for it. I'm sorry you can't be healed in the same way you heal other people. That's crap, man. It makes me respect you even more that you go out there anyway."

     "Well, that's a nice change," Reynolds grumbled. He paused, seeing Monty toss Benji's treat over the side. "What the hell did you just feed that troll?" Reynolds asked, looking alarmed for the first time.

     "Beef liver. About Conrad, how...?"

     The healer pushed past him to look closer at Benji, scowling. "Did Arthur give you that liver?"

     "Reynolds, focus!" Monty barked, irritated. "How long do you think it will be before you finish putting Humpty Dumpty together again?"

     "Oh, for Heaven's sake," Reynolds spat, rushing Monty over the bridge. "All anyone cares about is how quickly I can get people back up. Ok, um, let me think." He rubbed his chin, eyeing Conrad. "Give me about ten minutes with the tissue regenerators, and then I'll do my magic trick. Connie-J will be back and ready for action then. Of course, that will put me down for nearly half an hour, but it's not like that's important," he grumbled.