K ris Longknife stood with Jack to her back and Abby to her front. To her right and left were Marines in dress blue uniforms. It was standing room only in the bunker.
The metal keeping them alive groaned as the thousands of tons of rubble above them shifted and settled. Every scrap of smart metal, even Kris's decorations and orders, the buttons and metal of her suspenders, had been scrounged to shore up the bulkheads and overhead to this refuge.
Around her, Marines took soft, shallow breaths. They'd been ordered to dig into their first aid kits and put themselves in a painless coma. When death came for them, they would already be halfway there.
They had run out of ampules from the palanquin's small med kit. Kris and Jack were still awake, struggling to take as small of breaths possible. When death came for Kris, she wanted to be awake. She intended to spit in his face.
Fat lot of good it would do her.
NELLY, DO WE HAVE ANY CONTACT? Kris said on Nelly Net. That took no oxygen.
SORRY, KRIS, NOTHING.
At first, they'd been able to pass messages out, from one bunker to the next until it reached one with access to the outside world. However, no one had a computer like the Magnificent Nelly. The radios they did have were made of Smart MetalTM . Their batteries had been scrounged to power the air scrubbers. In the hasty seconds they'd had to construct the bunkers, a lot of the power cells had been converted to armor. That was what was keeping the rock off their heads.
Only when they were safe, did the realization dawn on anyone, even super computers, that power might be needed for more than just radios and such. True, they could have converted some of the Smart MetalTM into fuel cells, but it took power to convert the material from one magic use to another, power they didn't have at the moment.
To reduce the space they took up, they were standing with their hands on the shoulders of the person in front of them. Jack's hands were on her shoulders. They were so close together that the lovely Amanda's hands were atop his arms. No doubt, Jack had Amanda's delicious breasts pillowing his back.
Even after breastfeeding two kids, Kris had nothing up top to rival what Amanda had been born with.
I will not let this be my last living thought.
Kris leaned her head against Jack's arms and tried to sleep. Maybe she could pass on spitting in Death's eye.
Come on Megan. You're a Longknife. You pull miracles out of your hat before breakfast. Pull me out from the bottom of this pile of rocks.