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“SHE’S NOT READY. NOT yet.”
Doc stood up to Garr, arms crossed as she delivered her verdict. There was no mistaking the finality in her voice.
This wasn’t the first time she’d put her foot down. Her respect for Garr was unquestioned, but she wasn’t intimidated by him. When it came to their physical and psychological health, Doc was always ready to sound the alarm if they were pushing too hard, too fast.
She knows what’s at stake as much as we do. Amos watched the verbal sparring match between the Doctor and the Colonel. She wouldn’t balk, though, unless she thought it was necessary.
Garr could be as immovable as Doc, however.
“I just told Amos the same thing,” he replied with equal firmness. “I play the cards I’ve been dealt. You already know that.”
He welcomed input from his team, but the former Colonel was used to having his orders followed. “This mission calls for every able-bodied person we have.”
Don, Sheila and Jane were wise enough to stay out of it, as was Amos, but the tension on their faces was unmistakable.
The pressure’s on. Implants have been activated, twice. Mine and Aubrey’s, maybe the same day. Whatever the Hoarders were planning was thwarted, and now more Runners have been activated. Everything’s ramping up.
Garr pressed his argument, appealing to reason to drive his point home. “Aubrey’s been training hard, for weeks, and she’s getting her mobility back. Physically, she’s probably stronger than she’s ever been. She’s no good to anybody if we keep her hidden down here in the dark.”
He paused to take a breath. “Besides, I think Aubrey wants a chance to fight back. If it weren’t for the Hoarders and their Implants, she’d still be living a normal life, far from here.”
Doc sighed, shaking her head. She uncrossed her arms, placing her hands on her hips. From one defiant posture to the next. Amos couldn’t repress a smile. Doc doesn’t back down from anybody.
“Physically, yes, she’s recovered.” Doc appeared willing to concede that much. “Her determination’s been a big part of her recovery. But it’s not her body I’m worried about—it’s her mental and emotional state.”
She stepped closer to Garr, pointing a rigid finger at his chest. “Trust me on this. All I did was show her the scanner. When she realized where it came from, she lost it. Figuratively and literally. Call it ‘emotionally compromised,’ if you want a technical term. That doesn’t change anything. Aubrey isn’t ready.”
“Then neither was I.” Jane’s interruption was laced with bitterness. “That hasn’t stopped anyone from sending me on a mission.”
All eyes were on Jane now. “Garr’s not exaggerating, Doc. The Hoarders are gearing up for something, and we need all the help we can get. Aubrey’s got to start pulling her own weight, just like the rest of us.”
The silence following her outburst lasted only a few seconds, but it felt much longer.
Something’s changed. Amos couldn’t help but notice. That’s the first time she hasn’t called Aubrey “Country Girl.”
Garr addressed Doc again, uncharacteristically using her formal title. “I’m sorry, Doctor Simon, but Jane has a point. Aubrey needs to be a functional part of this Hub, not just a rescued Runner. We can’t shelter her forever.”
He sighed, a pained look in his eyes. “We’ve had a couple of months of peace since Aubrey’s Implant was activated. The Mission even had enough time to finish their repairs. John tells me they’re about to re-open. But now, out of the blue, we get word a new batch of Implants have been activated—at least three that we know of. The Hoarders are on the move.”
Doc closed her eyes. She seemed tired, as if Garr’s logical recitation of fact had drained what little energy she still possessed. “I know, I’ve felt it too. Like we’re living on borrowed time. But Aubrey isn’t like the rest of you. It wasn’t all that long ago when she was living an everyday life in a small town.”
She crossed her arms again, although her posture was less defiant. “People out there have moved on and adapted to a simpler life. Frankly, I envy them. And until a few months ago, Aubrey was blissfully unaware of any of this. She was just a country girl.”
Doc took a deep breath, collecting herself. “That’s all been ripped away. She’s seen her friends killed, she’s been on the run ever since, and she’s the only Runner to recover from Implant activation. And I hope I don’t have to remind you about the negative effects of electrocution.”
“None of that’s our fault.” Amos weighed in, his temper flaring. “We didn’t give her an Implant, or send a Tracker after her. Sure, her life’s been hell ever since, but she wouldn’t be alive at all if it weren’t for us.”
Jane sat at the table, watching the drama unfold through belligerent eyes. On the heels of Amos’s outburst, she slammed her fists on the tabletop. “Thomas, Sarah, Stephen. Three people—our friends—were butchered trying to save Aubrey from the Trackers. And then she tried to kill me, when it got into her blood. She owes us, Doc.”
“That’s enough.” Don’s roar shook the room. He stood, towering over the rest of the group. Don uses humor to mask his power. Amos eyed his friend with a wry smile. Until he needs to use it. Like now.
Don pointed at Jane, his voice a menacing growl. “Aubrey doesn’t owe us anything, Jane. We all knew what we signed up for. Thomas, Sarah, and Stephen were my friends, too. They were doing their jobs, just like the rest of us.”
Jane remained seated, much to her credit, but her fiery rage burned just below the surface. She glared up at Don, but said nothing.
Don swung away from Jane to confront Garr, arms crossed over his barrel chest. His tone was lighter, but his posture communicated his resolve. “On the other hand, my old friend Garrison, I agree with Jane. It’s time for Aubrey to join us in the field. There’s safety in numbers, and as they say, there’s no time like the present.”
Garr met his gaze, the only person in the room tall enough to look Don directly in the eye. “Agreed. I’ll take responsibility for her. She’ll join my team.”
He turned to Doctor Simon, who’d taken a seat at the far end of the table, her whole demeanor one of weary resignation. “Well, Doc? Are we good to go?”
Doc regarded him for a long moment, her eyes flitting around the other faces at the table.
“If I could, I’d ground the lot of you for mental instability,” she said dryly, not smiling. She pointed at the Colonel. “Garr, I’ll hold you to your word on this. Aubrey is your responsibility if you take her into the field.”
“Give her to me,” Jane offered, the smile on her face in no way reaching her eyes. She remained defiant. Don’s rebuke had been only temporarily effective. “I’ll toughen her up.”
Thwok!
The unexpected sound was startling. A dark object ricocheted across the room, diverting everyone’s attention to the doorway behind them.
Aubrey stood there, the hard rubber ball she’d thrown now caught at shoulder height. She kept her arm raised for emphasis, the scar tissue covering her forearm visible to everyone. Her damaged fingers clutched the ball in a merciless grip.
“Did somebody mention going into the field?” she asked coolly, looking at each of them in turn. Her eyes fastened on Jane last of all, not wavering. “I’m ready whenever you are.”