Page 119 of Line of Sight
The sun was at its highest point when another soldier came out of the hangar, a tray in both hands, and walked toward the makeshift jail.
Perfect.
Aric ran across to him. “Hey.”
The soldier came to a halt midway between the hangar and Fielding’s temporary prison. “You need something?”
Aric pointed to the tray, which contained a plastic bowl covered in foil, a plastic spoon, tortillas, a snack-size packet of peanut butter, a bag of mixed fruit, and a bottle of water. “Is that for Fielding?”
“Yup.” The soldier grinned. “And no, you can’t spit in his cheese tortellini.”
Aric grimaced. “Oh my God, is this one of those ready-to-eat meals I’ve heard the guys talking about?”
He chuckled. “Sure is. Fielding should count himself lucky he isn’t getting the curry chicken I asked them to give him. It was cruel and unusual punishment, they said, because he’d end up shitting through the eye of a needle.” He gave Aric an inquiring glance. “Well? Did you want something, or are you delaying me so his food gets cold?” His eyes twinkled. “Because gee, that would be tragic.”
It appeared as if Aric wasn’t the only one who held Fielding in pretty low esteem.
Aric held up the first aid kit. “I was going to change his dressings. I might as well take him his food and save you the trip.” His heart hammered.
Say yes. Say yes.
The soldier chuckled once more. “Wait a sec. Weren’t you the one who gave him the wounds in the first place?”
He bowed his head, trying to look suitably ashamed. “Yeah, but I’m feeling bad about it now. The medics have all gone, Doc’s busy with Jake, so I said I’d do it. I do have a little first aid training.” That wasn’t a lie, but then again, he had no intention of delivering any aid.
The opposite, in fact.
“Well, okay, then. Knock yourself out.” The soldier handed him the tray. “I’m not about to argue with you, especially as you’ll save me from having to get too close to him again.” He shuddered. “That guy gives me the fucking creeps with the way he stares, like he’s seeing right into your head.”
Aric thanked him and waited for him to head back to the hangar before approaching the building.
The guard glanced at the tray, then Aric. “You been conscripted?” he said with a smirk.
“Just helping out—delivering his food and changing his dressings,” Aric replied, holding up the first aid kit again.
The guard nodded. “Okay. Knock when you’re ready to leave and I’ll untie him so he can eat.” His eyes gleamed. “But no shifting this time, okay? I thought you were murdering him last time. All that screaming…. How much damage can kitty claws inflict anyhow?”
Aric snorted. “He’s still alive, isn’t he? So not enough, obviously. And I won’t shift. You’ve got my promise.”
What Aric had in mind wouldn’t require shifting.
The guard didn’t open the door right away, however, but regarded Aric for a moment. Aric tried to keep his cool. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure the guard could hear it. Finally, the guard nodded. “I guess you’ll be safe enough. He can’t shift, and while he might give some pretty impressive glares,theywon’t harm you.” He opened the door, and Aric went inside.
Fielding sat in the same office chair, his ankles and wrists secured with rope. He glanced at Aric with disdain, his lips curled into a sneer. “Well, if it isn’t the kitty cat again. Come to inflict more damage?” There were four Steri-Strips on his forehead and cheeks, and his hands were all scratched up. Fielding peered at the tray and shuddered. “What muck are they giving me now? It should come with a health warning.”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” Aric’s voice shook. “Food’s going to be the least of your worries.” He put down the kit and the tray, then approached Fielding’s chair. His fingers trembled as he unfastened the rope around Fielding’s ankles, then his wrists. Aric stepped back quickly and pulled the handgun from its hiding place, pointing it at Fielding with as steady a grip as he could manage.
“Why have you cut me loose? And what are you doing with that?” Fielding seemed almost amused.
Aric raised the gun a bit higher. “Taking back my fucking dignity. Taking it back for all of us who you hurt, tortured, and killed. You can’t be allowed to live.”
Fielding sneered again. “You? You don’t have the guts. You’re a weak, pathetic little thing. The only reason we kept you was because we wanted Seth to comply.” His smile was cruel. “If it wasn’t for him, you would have been one of the first to be culled.”
“Well, this weak, pathetic little thing is going to end you.” Aric spoke clearly, not bothering to mask his thoughts.
Come on, Brick. I need you.
Aric pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. He did it again with the same result.
