The Omega Device (The Ha-Shan Chronicles Book 1) (41 page)

Cots lined its innards, several wounded men of both factions atop them. The man helped Russell position Maggie on a cot, called a soldier over. He turned away as the solider rushed to a field medic, pointed to Maggie and explained something.

“You have injuries and must be treated,” the man said.

“Is she going to be alright?” Russell asked, peering past him.

“I believe so. At least, her body will heal.”

The field-medic examined Russell's arm, “Why are you helping us?”

He gave Russell a wily eye, “What you've done here is more than it seems. This much I know.”

“What
do
you know?”

“Only that you have our gratitude…”

He turned away. Russell called after him, “Wait! What about us?”

The man disappeared around a truck. Russell yelped as his arm was lifted. The field medic spoke a steady stream of Arabic, forced him to a cot between Maggie and Reese.

“Who was that?” Reese wheezed. Russell shook his head.

A large troop carrier pulled up outside the tent's flap and a group of men dropped from its back to retrieve the wounded. The tent's occupants were loaded into it, Maggie, Russell, and Reese among them. Once loaded, its started forward and the ruins of Leptis Magna shrank into the distance.

37.

Closure

October 14
th
 

10:45 AM

Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky International Airport

The next week passed in a hellishly introspective haze. Between their various states of medical inebriation, and the confinement in Kohms, it was hard to tell exactly how any of them were feeling. After becoming mobile, they boarded a flight to Cairo, met a short layover, then made for home. Maggie's mind was still stuck on what had transpired with West, but Reese and Russell's insistence on remaining light forced it elsewhere.

The terminal at CVG was flush with a wave of passengers bound for baggage claim. Russell's injured arm lay in a sling, the other carrying his duffel bag over his back. Maggie limped forward on a cane, her pack to one side, and each of them sporting new clothes gifted by an unknown source. Reese stepped with the others, each breath taken with a careful thought as they filed outside to a line of taxis.

Reese turned to them, “I guess this is where I leave you.”

“You sure you don't want us to come with?” Maggie asked.

She grimaced, “I need to do this on my own.”

“He did it for all of us, Reese,” Russell said.

“I know, but I owe him this much,” she said, squinting from the morning sun.

“So you're going to Indianapolis. What then?” Maggie asked.

“I don't know.”

“Come back here. I can always use security at the shop.”

Reese managed a small smile, “Alright, but I'll need a place to stay for a while.”

Russell chuckled, “Maggie might need to scrub the carpets.”

Maggie shook her head, “Ugh, don't remind me. I'm sure the landlord's real happy someone
died
in my apartment.”
 

Reese laughed at the absurdity of diminishing resale values. She settled, turned away to watch the crowds file in and out of the airport.

Maggie squinted at her, head tilted, “You think anyone's looking for us?”

“Omega's a time-bomb, but the weapon's destroyed. They have nothing left to hunt for and I doubt they have many resources left after this.”

“
But
we're not worth the exposure right now,” Russell finished.

Reese agreed, “I'm holding you to that.” She looked out on the empty sky to let the sun warm her. “What about about you two?”

Maggie looked to Russell, her eyebrow raised. He replied, “We're heading to the shop first—”

“Then home for a good fuck.”

Reese laughed as Russell's face reddened, “Good luck with that. Ow, that's rough.”

She stepped away. Maggie called after her, “We'll see you in a couple weeks.” Reese smiled, walked sideways to wave good bye. “Be careful!”

She climbed aboard a bus and disappeared into its crowded innards. Maggie and Russell hailed a cab, headed back to Oakton. Cincinnati's sky-line and Masseville's flat cornfields weren't quite as exotic as Nepal or Tibet's forested mountains, or Libya and Egypt's deserts, but they were a sight for sore eyes.

Maggie was silent the whole ride, trying to make sense of all that had occurred, and wondering how to move forward from it. When the cab arrived outside the shop, she was relieved to see it still standing. She hobbled out to the sidewalk and Russell clambered out behind her. He handed the driver a fistful of cash and shut the door.

The cab pulled out into the busy street while Maggie stared at the shop's sign. She took a deep breath, eyes tracking the people passing between her and the door.

“Everything alright?”

“Just taking it in.” She winced at him, “What do I do, Russell? How do I go back?”

He slid an arm around her, “When I came home, I felt the same.”

“And?”

He shrugged, “It didn't matter. All of the things I was worried about, all of the changes I'd been through; that's not what home is, Maggie. Home doesn't change.”

She laid her head against him for a moment, then straightened to traverse a gap in the people streaming along the sidewalk. The bell dinged above her head and Ashley's eyes rose behind the counter. She did a double-take over a familiar buzz.

“Jesus Christ! You're alive!”

She stumbled off her stool, pulled herself around the counter, and rushed to squeeze Maggie tight.

“Oof. Watch the side.”

“What the hell happened—wait—” She stopped herself, turned to yell over the machine, “Mandy!”

“
What?
” Mandy yelled back, annoyed at the intrusion. She squinted across the shop as Ashley drug Maggie toward her. “Maggie!” She squealed, jumped up from her client, and rushed Maggie as Ashley had. “Sorry! I just can't believe you're back!”

“Yeah, we're home,” Maggie smiled. “And you're working?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, that. I hope it's alright,”

Her client rose, revealed herself as She-La, her leg covered in ink. She limped over, rubbing a thigh, “Leg's asleep. It is good to see you both alive.”

“You too,” Maggie replied.

“You held up your end.”

“So did you.”

“And then some.”

“Thank you, wait… Huh?” Maggie asked, perplexed.

Ashley explained, “She-La bought a condo in town. She wants to work with us, bring in business.”

“If it is agreeable, that is.”

“What? I mean, yeah, but… why?”

“I sensed you would either live, and deserve to come back to something worthwhile, or die, and be remembered for it.”

“That's a bit blunt,” Mandy joked.

Ashley rolled her eyes. She-La explained, “If you wish, I will stay, bring you clientele, refer work to you, and in the meantime, help better manage your books.”

Maggie seemed hesitant, but was internally ecstatic, “Thank you, She-La.”

“It is my honor.”

“I want them at the competition,” Ashley said. Maggie was overwhelmed by her life returning all at once. Ashley didn't seem to notice. “Jerry's work needs to be finished, and there're a few people who wanted your designs while you were away. I told them you'd call. The work orders and numbers are on the counter.”

“This can wait, right?” Russell asked.

Maggie smiled, “Call back and tell them I'll take them this week. A-SAP. Have them come in.” Ashley nodded. Maggie looked to Mandy, “Congratulations. Now get back to work.”

Mandy gave a stern nod and turned away. She-La spoke to Maggie, “I trust all is well.”

“It's gone. The Order with it.” She-La's brow furrowed. “It's a long story.”

“Right. We will talk more of it later. For now, relax. That battle is over.” She stepped toward Mandy, “This one is just beginning.”

Maggie leaned her head against Russell's good shoulder. The buzzing machine in Mandy's hands filled her with a warm vibration that chased away a phantom anxiety. A thousand worries went with it; Omega's possible retaliation, its probability, the death of the Reverberant and the Order's place in the world. Earth might have drowned in the abyss that could form, but Maggie was no longer afraid.

She quelled her mind and steadied her heart with the image of the warrior imposed before the idling fire. In all that she'd been through, such trivialities were the least of her worries. Should they arise, and she find herself choice-less once again, she would survive.

Old fears arose, different this time; Jerry's tattoo, paying rent, keeping the shop in business. She chuckled to herself, reveled in the idea of the upcoming convention and her work ahead. With the reverie came the knowledge that no matter what lay before her, she would survive.

Acknowledgments

This book would not have been possible without the continuing encouragement of many, kind and loving people: First, Nikki-- to whom this book is foremost dedicated-- and her unassailable commitment to optimism and positivity, no matter how cynical it makes me at times. Also to my alpha reader, Daelyn, whose simple willingness to help filled me with hope and allowed me to better enrich these pages.

I would be remiss if I did not also thank my family; mother, father, sisters and the too-many-to-name people in my life who are family in heart, if not blood. I could not do what I do without your support. Most of all, I could not have survived to finish this book without it!

For Jeanne and the folks at Personal Art, Inc I say a hearty “Thank you,” for letting me experience the wonderful world Tattooing offers through them. As well, I am grateful for the exquisite font-work of Daniel Zadorozny, and Justin Callaghan, whose work graces the cover of this book and my website respectively.

Finally, thank
you
for
supporting my work, be it online, through donations, or just from spreading the word. Were it not for the lot of you, I'd be less of a person...
and
out of a job.