I jerked around and saw one of the Gray soldiers weaving around the obstacle course of bodies, running erratically toward us. He had been injured. Blood soaked his uniform, but he wasn’t down and clearly had more killing in mind. He saw me staring at him, and he lifted his gun and screamed, “Zu-ber-i!”
Givens strong-armed me out of his way and raised his weapon, but before he could squeeze the trigger, he grunted and rolled onto his side.
I had no choice.
I seized the gun from Givens’s hand, sat with my back to him, and used my folded knees as a gun brace. I pointed the AK at the Gray soldier, who was closing in. I was looking him squarely in the eyes when I fired.
The burst of bullets was shockingly loud, and the kick of the gun threw me back onto Givens. I caught my balance even as the soldier staggered backward and dropped.
I didn’t need to check his pulse to know what I’d done.
Dear God. This is me. Brigid Fitzgerald.
I’ve just killed a man.
Chapter 22
THE ENTIRE field was in chaos. The helicopter chopped shouted words into strings of nonsense, and the whirling dust storms colored everyone and everything a dull yellow-brown.
Colin had been standing between the helicopter and where I sat with Givens. Now he was heading toward me, waving his hands wildly, frantically calling out to me, something like, “Brigid. Come to the helicopter. Come now.”
“I need help!” I shouted back.
Nick Givens was still alive, and as long as he was breathing, I was determined to save him.
I leaned close to the young man’s ear and said, “Nick, you hang on, okay? I’m getting help for you. You’re going home.”
A new sound washed over the field.
There was another helicopter high overhead. I felt a flash of hope. More help was coming in, and surely there were other people on this field who might be alive and, with medical assistance, could be saved.
I prayed for that.
And then another shock blasted the hope right out of me. As the helicopter descended we were sprayed with gunfire. We were under fire.
Our own helicopter was rocking and beginning to lift off, and now Colin was running toward me.
“Leave him,” he shouted over the roar of the engines. “Brigid, come with me, or I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you.”
I still didn’t understand—and then I did.
The logo on the tail section of the second aircraft was not the blue UN letters with the image of the globe.
The logo was the letter Z in black.
Other helicopters appeared overhead, joining this one. We were being attacked by Zuberi’s army.
Colin was only yards away. I shouted, “Colin, he can’t walk. But we’re taking him back with us. We must.”
Colin’s face contorted as bullets flew and the enemy helicopter landed a hundred feet away, sending up thick, stinging waves of dust.
I could hardly see, but I grabbed hold of Givens’s feet, and Colin, following my lead, lifted up the young man from under his arms. He was heavy, but I was damned well going to keep a grip on him. More bullets pinged into the dirt. We were making progress toward the UN airship—it was so close, I could see the pilot’s face—when Colin let go of Givens.
I screamed, “Colin! Pick him up!” when I saw the look of shock come over his face. He clutched at the bull’s-eye on the front of his T-shirt. I yelled his name, but he looked confused as he stared at his bloody palm.
He started to speak, but he couldn’t get air. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, falling onto his side.
I released Givens’s feet and ran over to Colin. A bullet had gone through the center of the target on his back and out the front. Maybe it missed his heart.
I rolled Colin onto his back, put an arm under his neck, and grabbed his dear face with my hand. His eyes were open, but he seemed to be looking past my shoulder.
“Colin, I’ll get you out of here. Please, don’t leave me.”
I pressed my lips to his and kissed him. I felt him respond, and for a moment I was filled with relief. But then he went slack. I needed help desperately, but I couldn’t leave Colin alone, even for a second.
I stood up to look for Sabeena as fusillades of gunfire sprayed around me. I felt a hard thump to my rib cage. My vision blurred and slid sideways. I was screaming inside my head when all that I’d known went black.
NO. PLEASE, GOD. NO.
Part Two
Chapter 23
I WAS seated comfortably, speeding through total darkness toward a soft light far away. I smelled nothing, heard nothing, and I was not afraid. I wiggled my fingers, and I flexed my toes, but I had no desire to stand or stretch my arms or look in any direction but straight ahead.
I became suddenly aware of a warm place inside my chest that was not part of me. It was an unknown presence, knowing and alive, and it conveyed an idea to me. A big one. That what was happening to me now was meant to be.
I formed words inside my mind.
I asked, What is this?
I wasn’t answered in words, but I had an understanding, something like, You know. You called out to Me.
The warmth expanded out from my chest to the ends of my fingers and toes. What was happening? Was I with God? Was His spirit inside me? Was He protecting me?
Why now?
Am I dead? I asked.