A Once Crowded Sky by Tom King & Tom Fowler

Author:Tom King & Tom Fowler [King, Tom & Fowler, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781451652000
Google: mAV6MoT0Ap0C
Amazon: 1451652003
Barnesnoble: 1451652003
Goodreads: 12987216
Publisher: Touchstone
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

1

The Soldier of Freedom #525

Soldier presses the button on the machine. “Soldier, hey, it’s Felix. Doctor Speed. Felix. Soldier, I . . . I got a call, y’know, from the hospital, a guy I know at the hospital. Soldier, she died. Mashallah. There was bleeding. And she died. Like Penelope. I haven’t told anyone, called anyone else. It’s not official. They haven’t spoken to the family yet. But you should know. If you want to talk, I’ll be—”

A sustained beep, and then silence interrupted periodically by the creaks of a small house under a harsh wind. Soldier flicks a lamp on and sits back into the couch, his pistol scratching into his side. The smell of hot rain pokes through the weak spots in his home as an American flag, singed at its edges, rustles against the weather outside. When he gets up, his body stabs him in those old, used places, but he manages to get out the door. In the open the rain comes, spotting his shirt and eyes. He takes the flag down and returns to shelter.

Soldier goes to the dining table and starts the usual, tucking corners where they need to be tucked, straightening wrinkles where they need to be straightened. Eventually, he lays the tight triangle on the counter and eases back into the couch. In the dim light of a dying lamp, he waits for the rain to let up, waits to put the flag out.

The phone rings a few times, and a beep sounds, and a voice plays: “Soldier, it’s Doc. I’m going out for a drink. I’ll call you from the place.”

The phone keeps ringing. It rings all night. The rain doesn’t end. It keeps falling good and hard. But The Soldier of Freedom waits patiently, his flag by the door, just in case it stops.

His eyelids drop, his arm stretches out, his finger slips the trigger, but the gun doesn’t fire—everyone lives; everyone’s saved. Then everyone dies. And everyone comes back. Pull the trigger.

As Soldier wakes, he goes to his hip, fondling his gun until he knows there’re no threats about. After getting off the couch, he undresses, placing his shirt in the empty hamper before stepping into the shower. He likes it hot—the water testing him, demanding his sweat. When he comes out, his back is stained red.

Using a badger brush and straight razor picked up in ’16, he scrapes off his face before getting into his outfit for the day. As he knots his belt, he pauses periodically to slot his holsters. The dark blue overcoat he pulls on hangs long enough to hide any weapons. It’s morning, and he’s ready. Soldier returns to the couch in his living room, sits down, and stares straight ahead. He wipes at his nose and eyes.

She’d come back for him. Mashallah had been so close to quitting this game, and she turned around and came back for him, to give him the next clue as to how to solve this latest thrilling mystery.

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