Time/Date Error (Damned of the 2/19th-Book Six) - Done

Abhartach

Training Supply Office
2/19th SWG Barracks
2/19th Special Weapons Group Area
Secure Area, Alfenwehr
West Germany
28 October, 1987

I stared at my boots for a long moment, closing my eyes and squeezing them tight. The room stank of blood and, if you can believe it, hatred. The knot on the back of my head ached where I'd been knocked out only a few hours before. My wrists burned and ached from being tied up, my shoulderblade hurt from where I'd slammed against the door backing up. A low growling noise, animalistic, inhuman, snapped my attention back to the present.

When I looked up I stared at him. He was staring at me, that ruined left eye blood red, pressure cuts in bruises on unswollen flesh that were sealed with gummy half-congealed blood, slashed and torn uniform, ice and frozen blood in his hair, and dark red blood running down his chin. Blood dripped from those heavy killing hands of his, falling on the floor.

But the pools of blood didn't get bigger, just stayed roughly the size of a teacup saucer.

...interesting...

The other thing that struck me, aside from his stillness, was his size. His was at least seven feet tall, easily a foot wider than he had been. Make no mistake, he was a big man normally, covered in heavy slabs of muscle, but since he'd appeared out of the dark he was even bigger.

Those eyes turned toward me and I could see that his pupils were still fixed and dilated.

"Why is the salt holding him still?" Neelson asked softly. When I glanced at her I noticed she had her arms crossed over her belly protectively.

"I told you," I snapped, turning my attention back to him.

His face was slack, the grim look or that wry smile missing. The nerve on the side of his face that usually spasmed when he was under stress was still. His skin was pale, freckles plain on his face, and the scarring on the left side of his face was evident.

I got up and moved toward him carefully, moving around the thin circle of salt I had poured.

"Is he safe?" One of the girls asked. I think she was with 1st Platoon, working at ASP #3 in Wildflicken with 144th Ordnance Company.

"As safe as he ever is," I said gently, watching as he turned slowly to keep his empty eyes on me.

Something flickered in his eyes as I lit a cigarette and for a second I saw that difference engine that ran inside of his skull. That amazing cerebral wiring that let him take in all the variables in a split second and spit out the answer that gave him the best options and outcome. That calculating decision tree system that I'd seen engaged so often.

That was better than the emptiness that returned.

"What happened to him? They said they killed him," another girl said. Wright, I think her name was. She was out of Kill Shop, probably a sadist and a psychopath in addition to being pregnant.

"I'm not sure," I said. I took a deep drag of the cigarette, glancing at the girl. The condensation of her breath was spreading out, still visible. Goddamn, the room was cold, but I knew it would start heating up soon.

When I looked back at him, I counted to thirty but no condensation appeared in front of his mouth or nose.

He wasn't breathing. With the exception of the blood running down his chin from his mouth I couldn't see any wounds that accounted for the blood that soaked his hands and dripped onto the tile floor.

I could smell something. Something that didn't fit in the Training Supply Office.

Steeling myself I leaned forward close to him and sniffed carefully. He didn't move, just growled low in his throat and swayed slightly.