Blast Protocol

Chapter 26

GAVIN

Air hisses inside the sealed chamber. There's a change in pressure, a feeling like Gavin's ears are going to pop. He works his jaw back and forth, which usually helps to ease the sensation. His breath echoes back to him inside the translucent mask which covers his mouth and nose. Clean air cycles out of his O2 tank and into the mask in hushed, periodic gasps.

The camo suit, the backpack, the pistol holstered at his hip, the rifle slung over his shoulder and back by the strap; they weigh heavily on his body, but it's not an uncomfortable weight. He feels grounded by the weight of his gear. Secure. Competent. Ready.

His training, as well as his own self-awareness and discernment, tells him his heart is beating faster than normal. Not out of fear, but excitement. The thrill of the fight.

The giant door ahead, the one leading to the outside, grinds gratingly, metal scraping on metal, as it slides sideways and open. As the crack to the outer world widens, bright, dirty orange sunlight blooms at one corner of the doorway. Gavin squints and holds up a hand to shield his eyes, but only for long enough to pull a pair of sporty polarized sunglasses out of his breast pocket.

Everything has been seen to. There's no need to check equipment and supplies, or to huddle up. No need to give any lofty speeches about the future of humanity. The members of the Watch already know what their job is. They know their role, and they accept it. They signed up for this eventuality a long time ago.

The plan is in place. The fellow saviors of humanity are here, by Gavin's side, ready to fight.

He strides forward, sidling through the still-widening gap of the door. He doesn't fear the possibility of ambush. Not yet. The trespassing Ruster must still be inside the ship. Otherwise, its movements would be picked up by the sensors.

A dozen pairs of boots crunch on the rocky, downhill path. The occasional kicked-up rock rolls and bounces down the incline. It is pleasantly warm, and the weather is strangely quiet and calm.

They are in no particular hurry. They are loose. Calm. Prepared. The Ruster can track their movements anyway, using the ship's readings. Stealth-tech will be of little use, here. It won't be like it was with the last Ruster, blundering into territory where he didn't belong, into Gavin's trap. This Ruster arrived with purpose. Intention. Gavin is going to meet it head-on with his own.

They don't yet have a visual of the ship. The path they traverse now leads to a stretch of plateau east of the ship's location, and elevated a good fifty feet up from the canal floor.

Gavin's earpiece, connected by a white cord to the radio attached to his belt, makes a staticky chirp in his ear. He flips a switch on the side of the radio.

"This is Watch Alpha, come in."

"Gavin."

There's no way to mistake that voice, tarnished by radio static as it is.

Gavin's heart, already overactive, does a double backflip.

Sometimes it bothers him how much he finds himself thinking of her. The look of her. The sound of her voice. It's not just a matter of physical attraction, either. Each interaction is like a dose of the most powerful drug. Especially when she's the one to instigate it.

The attraction is mutual. Gavin knows it is. Because Shiloh needs him, even if she doesn't realize it. All strong, powerful men are fated to have their pick of the women in their lives. It is an immutable law of the universe. Her destiny with him. She can no more escape this than gravity, or entropy. He might as well be her world, the physical mass around which she revolves.