Fireteam Delta J. Halpin (top 10 books of all time TXT) 📖

army. Synel and the captain had expected as much and planned accordingly. Thankfully, they’d be breaking into their former enemy’s territory soon.

“A city, actually. And I believe it will be another two days or so.”

“You haven’t heard of anything that might help, have you?”

Synel shook her head.

“I know of cures, salves, and the like. However, most, if not all are frauds. It’s a . . . very prevalent problem in the cities.”

“Of course, it is.”

Summers sighed again. He’d have to think of something. If he didn’t, given the rate at which this thing inside him was progressing, this might be his last stop.

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A day later Summers watched as Cortez sparred with Orvar. To his credit, the man knew how to handle himself. Cortez had been one of the better hand-to-hand fighters he’d seen. Most soldiers didn’t bother with anything past the most basic fundamentals of hand-to-hand. After all, if an enemy gets in close while guns are in play, knowing how to punch isn’t going to help. Only those with real interest would get to be Cortez’s level.

And while that wasn’t necessarily true for this world, Orvar was apparently one of those people. He dodged a left hook from Cortez and shot in, tackling her to the deck.

She patted his back, and he got back to his feet, helping Cortez up. Summers watched them a second longer before turning back to his journal.

He yawned as he began to write again. He hadn’t slept since his revelation a day ago, and though he didn’t seriously think avoiding it would help, it had made it significantly harder to get there. And he was definitely feeling the fatigue.

He heard someone sit and looked up to find Asle beside him.

“What are you writing about now?” She looked at him, curious.

Summers thought about how to respond, until he eventually decided to tell her the truth.

“My mom. I don’t remember a lot about her anymore, just . . . pieces. Things she said. Or that I think she said. I wanted to write down what was left.”

Asle nodded, thinking.

“Can I write about me? When you’re done, I mean.”

Summers considered that. The throbbing in his writing hand told him it wasn’t the worst idea.

“You know how to write in English?”

She nodded. “Also Nos.”

“All right, sure,” he agreed. “We’re blood, right?”

Asle cracked a small smile as he handed over the book.

Summers shook out his right hand, almost thankful for the break. He looked back to Cortez and Orvar’s fight just as Cortez landed a solid hit to the man’s side. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing, and Summers cringed in sympathy.

It looked like Cortez was apologizing to him. After a moment, he waved her off, struggling to his feet and putting his hands up as if nothing happened. They fought like that for a while as Summers watched.

After some time, sleep finally took him.

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Summers sat in the back of a dark cell, long hair covering his face. The cop who had booked him was pacing nearby, glancing in his direction every so often. Summers hadn’t said a word to the man since they’d caught him.

The cop finally stopped pacing, moving to the front of his cell.

“Come on, kid. Just give us your parents’ number.”

There was a knock on the door, and the cop looked at Summers one last time before he moved off.

He heard muffled voices; one was a woman’s. Someone . . . familiar.

The cop returned a few minutes later, unlocking the cell door.

“Follow me.”

He was led to the front of the station, where a woman was waiting for him. His mother. He couldn’t see her face, but somehow, he knew it was her.

“You know I should beat your ass, right?” The woman looked at him sternly.

He didn’t respond.

She spoke with the man behind the desk for a few minutes more before they left. He didn’t hear what they said. He didn’t care.

Outside, the woman started toward a car. She moved slowly, as if walking was a strain for her. She rubbed at her head, covered only with a scarf.

“You’d better drive.”

Summers nodded. He opened the passenger side door for her, and the woman all but collapsed into her seat.

They drove in silence for a long time before Summers got up the courage to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

“You better be,” she answered. She must have seen the look on his face, because her expression softened. “Your father told me what happened. Was this your idea, or his?”

“Mine.”

“Why?” She looked at him. “We’re fine on money.”

“No, we’re not,” Summers answered. “We’re never fine.”

“We’re doing well enough.”

“Why doesn’t he help us? Help you?” Summers asked.

“Because my life is none of his business.” She rubbed at her head again. “I wouldn’t lift a finger to help him, either.” She sighed.

“Was it expensive? To get me out?”

“They caught you with three pounds of hamburger down your pants.” She leaned back in her seat. “No, and I don’t think they’re going to throw the book at you.”

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the road.

“Alex, you know I love you, right?” His mother looked at him. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re a huge pain in the ass sometimes,” she chided.

“I know.”

She reached over, squeezing his shoulder.

“But I’ll always be cheering you on, even if I’m not here.” She smiled. “I love you. And when I’m gone, promise me you’ll remember that, okay?”

“I love you too, Mom.”

They talked a lot after that, and Summers thought a lot. He kept his eyes forward, looking at the road in front of him.

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“Port ahead!” one of the deckhands yelled, waking Summers from his sleep.

Summers stared at the man in a daze