Alien Tango

me, Claudia was a winsome brunette about my age. I’d tried to hate them but couldn’t manage it because they were just so darned nice. They’d become my closest A-C girlfriends during Operation Fugly and were considered a part of my team. They didn’t go on a lot of fieldwork, but they were the only female A-Cs authorized to do so, again because of me.
    They were dating two of my flyboys, Lieutenant Joe Billings and Captain Randy Muir. Killing big fugly monsters seemed to make for solid romantic relationships.
    I was counting in my head. We were at a minute since I’d called, and Gower’s breathing was worse. I wanted to find Martini and Christopher, but I couldn’t just leave Gower lying on the ground.
    Two minutes, and I heard the sound of running feet. The girls were there, my five pilots with them. All of them had medical cases. A-Cs could move humans at hyperspeed via touch, and we’d learned that as long as the contact was there, one A-C could move several linked humans. Thankfully, the girls had taken the initiative to do so.
    Joe and Lorraine took over with Gower, and I raced off, the rest of them with me. Hughes and Walker spotted some folks down to our right. They weren’t Christopher or Martini so I didn’t care, but those two sheared off to handle them.
    We found Christopher next. He was out, facedown. I got him turned over, and he was like Gower—shallow breathing and no response to stimuli. Claudia and Randy started CPR.
    “I’m going to find Jeff.”
    Claudia nodded. “Kitty, more than anything, he’ll need the adrenaline.”
    “Got it.” I took off, Jerry with me.
    Other people were coming in now, most of them doing what we were, trying to revive the fallen. I couldn’t find Martini anywhere, and my panic was going into overdrive.
    Jerry grabbed my arm. “There!” He’d spotted some bodies that were very near where the flames had come from.
    We ran. I couldn’t remember running faster even during a championship race. Martini was facedown, and he was hurt, I could tell. He was on top of another man, also facedown and hurt. It was clear from what I could see of the wreckage that Martini had taken the brunt of the hit in order to protect the other man.
    I moved Martini carefully. He was still alive, but barely. Jerry moved the other man. “Jeff’s dad works here?”
    “Yeah, why?” I looked over. Even hurt, the resemblance was clear. “Oh, God.” Of course Martini would head toward and try to protect his father. I couldn’t guess which one of them had been the target, might have been both.
    “His dad an empath?” Jerry was all business.
    “No, standard A-C.”
    “Doing CPR, then.” Jerry started, and I turned back to Martini.
    He was the world’s most powerful empath, and that meant he could push himself harder and longer than the other empaths. It also meant that when his empathic synapses burned out and emotional blocks wore down, he crashed harder and faster than the other empaths. And when he crashed, if he went too long without isolation or any other kind of regenerative fluids, he had to have adrenaline. Shot directly into his hearts. Or he’d die.
    My hands were shaking, but I forced them to stop. You didn’t save someone by panicking. That was for later, when things had calmed down. I dug through my purse and found the harpoon case. Ripped his shirt open. Too scared to consider how hot he looked even unconscious and possibly dying. That meant I was beyond terrified.
    I heard Jerry’s patient start to come around. One small favor.
    I filled the harpoon, kissed Martini on the forehead, and said what I always did against his skin. “I love you, Jeff.” Then I plunged it straight into his hearts.
    His eyes flew open, and he bellowed. I pulled the harpoon out and got it back into the case. This was hard to do because, as always, he was thrashing, and I had to throw my body on top of his to keep him somewhat under control. I had to get the needle put away—there had been an incident early on when he’d grabbed it while thrashing and had unintentionally almost killed me with it.
    Harpoon away, I moved so that I was fully on top of him, my arms and legs trying to keep his still. “Jeff, Jeff, baby, try to calm down.” He was still bellowing. This was always awful, and it was worse now because I knew he was hurting himself more. “Jeff, it’s Kitty. Try to relax. You’re hurt, Jeff, I have to get you to medical.”
    His eyes were wild, and he was stronger