I swear he blushed. ‘Go on,’ said Murdoch. ‘Tell her.’ Weasel shook his head. ‘He was hit by a flying body part. A bloody leg flew through the air and caught him right between the eyes.’
I know I opened my mouth to make some sarky comment and I know I never got to say it. A white-hot flash seared my vision, leaving purple and green after-shadows. The ground heaved beneath my feet. I swear the pod bounced and a shock wave knocked me backwards. I fell heavily on my injured shoulder. Everything flickered wildly. Fractionally later, I heard the massive boom. It seemed to go on for a very long time. The pod trembled. Shakily, I got up on to my knees and groped for my gun because the door was still open. Beside me, Murdoch, also on his knees, shook his head.
I said, ‘What was that?’ and my voice seemed miles away. I crawled to the console to check the systems. Maybe one of the volcanoes had erupted. I wasn’t steady on my feet and my ears rang. The screen broke up, showed nothing but static and then cleared again.
I said to Murdoch, ‘Any ideas?’ My voice sounded strange inside my own head.
He shook his head, carefully. ‘At a guess I’d say a fuel dump, given the heat and ferocity of the explosion. Bloody hell.’ He shook his head again.
I scanned the outside. Fires had broken out everywhere. There were a lot of figures on the ground. Huge shapes were swooping on the few still desperately trying to get away. I looked back into my pod. Evans and Weasel had managed to cover everything in blood. The place looked like a slaughter house. I was uneasy at having the door open, but had no choice. The two or three seconds it took to open could be the difference between living and dying a particularly unpleasant death. We heard a bellowing roar close by. Murdoch picked up his gun. ‘I’ve got it.’ he said. ‘Can you see to Whissell?’
I mopped up the still gushing Whissell. ‘I’m OK,’ he said wonkily, determined to be the tough man, so I switched the coms to speaker, to listen to the chatter and find out what was happening.
It wasn’t good. I could hear Kalinda’s voice raised over the racket in her pod. From what I could gather they had taken heavy casualties and the Boss was down. Her team was all present. I heard her ordered to return.
I said, ‘Wait …’ But she had already gone. Faintly I heard Barclay say, ‘Maxwell, return to St Mary’s at once.’
I said, ‘Izzie …’ but she said, ‘At once, Maxwell. That’s an order.’
‘She must have Markham,’ said Murdoch. ‘Silly pillock.’ Not quite sure who he was referring to there.
I closed the door on the snarling and screaming. Sudden silence fell; no sound but Whissell’s bubbly breathing. I took one last look at the screen just in case Markham could be seen somewhere, and we jumped.
I had the decon light on even before we got back. Helen waited with medical teams at the ready. I got my people sorted and away and then pushed my way towards Kal, shouting for Markham as I went. No one had seen him. Kal and Helen were bent over the Boss. His front was soaked with blood and his face looked very white. I couldn’t see if he was conscious.
Kal gripped my arm. ‘I’ll go with the Boss and see what’s happening upstairs. You get this lot sorted.’ I nodded and moved away, bumping into Perkins.
‘Come on, Polly; let’s get them all back behind the line.’
Shoving, persuading, cursing, we got everyone out of harm’s way and behind the safety line. I stood on a crate.
‘Markham? Has anyone seen Markham?’ People shook their heads and looked around.
Someone said, ‘He’ll have gone back to the wrong pod. You know what he’s like. Barclay will be bollocking him rigid at this very minute.’
I sent up a prayer to any deity who might be taking a temporary interest in St Mary’s and at that moment, Number Three turned up. There was an audible sigh of relief and a minor surge forward.
‘Stay back, all of you,’ I shouted and went forward. As I got there, the door opened and Barclay stepped out. She looked awful; so bad that I visually checked her for injuries. She leaned forward and put her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. I rubbed her back gently. She was IT and not on the active list. It was her first mission. She had the right to a wobbly moment. I stepped past her into the pod. I don’t know what I expected. Worst case scenario: dead and dying men, blood, pain, trauma, the works.
The pod was empty.
I couldn’t grasp it. I kept looking round and round. It just didn’t go in. I stepped back outside. ‘Where are they?’
‘They’re dead. All of them. All four of them. Oh, God.’ She threw up on her own boots. I ignored my sympathetically heaving insides and stepped back into the pod again. Still no Farrell, Guthrie, Markham, or Peterson, no weapons, no trace, not even a blood stain. I felt my own head spin. I took two or three very deep breaths and closed my eyes for a moment. Then I stepped back out of the pod and ran my eyes over those left.
‘Murdoch, Ritter – to me.’
She straightened up, wiping her mouth. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Rescue mission. You two; get your weapons charged up and back here to me.’