All You Need Is Kill

“Sentimental bastard.” There was a smile in her voice. “I hate red skies.”

It was the last thing she ever said.

6

The sky was bright.

Rita Vrataski was dead. After I killed the Mimic server and mopped up the stragglers, they threw me in the brig. They said it was for dereliction of duty. By recklessly ignoring the orders of a superior officer, I had placed my fellow soldiers in harm’s way. Never mind that there hadn’t been any superior officers to give any fucking orders. They were scrambling to find someone to pin Rita’s death on, and I couldn’t blame them for wanting a scapegoat.

The court martial took place three days after they locked me up; I was cleared of the charges. In the end, they decided to pin a medal on me instead.

A general, the one who had ordered up the PT, patted me on the back and told me what a fine job I’d done. He all but rolled his eyes when he said it. I wanted to tell him to shove the medal up his ass for all the good it would do, but I stopped myself. Rita’s death was my responsibility. No point in taking it out on him.

The medal was the Order of the Valkyrie, awarded to soldiers who killed over one hundred Mimics in a single battle. An award originally created for one very special soldier. The only way to receive a higher honor was to die in battle-like Rita had.

I really had killed a lot of the fuckers. More than all of Rita’s kills combined in just one battle. I don’t remember much of what happened after I destroyed the server, but apparently I found a replacement battery for my suit and proceeded to single-handedly take out somewhere around half of all the Mimics that had attacked Flower Line.

Reconstruction of the base had been moving forward at a fever pitch. Half the buildings on the base had burned to the ground, and hauling off the wreckage was a monumental task in and of itself. The 17th Company’s barracks were gone, and the mystery novel I’d never gotten around to finishing was nothing but ashes.

I wandered aimlessly as people hurried to and fro across the base.

“Fight like a mothefuckin’ maniac? That how decorated heroes do?”

The voice was familiar. I turned just in time to see a fist flying straight at me. My left leg repositioned itself. I didn’t have time to think. All I could do was decide whether or not to throw the counter attack switch in my head. If I flipped the switch on, the reflexes burned into me through 160 loops would kick in, taking over my body like a robot in a factory.

I could shift my weight to my left leg, deflect the punch with my shoulder, and grab my attacker’s elbow as I stepped forward with my right foot and jammed my own elbow into his side. That would take care of the first punch. I ran the simulation in my head and realized I’d be shattering my assailant’s ribs before I even knew who he was. I opted to just take the punch. The worst I would walk away with was a black eye.

It hurt more than I’d bargained for. The force of the blow knocked me back, and I landed hard on my ass. At least nothing was broken- all according to plan. It was good to know I had a career of being a punching bag ahead of me if the army didn’t pan out.

“I don’t know about you bein’ a prodigy, but you sure as fuck are full of yourself.”

“Leave him alone.”

Yonabaru was standing over me. He looked like he wanted to keep throwing punches, but a woman in a plain soldier’s shirt had stepped in to stop him. Her left arm was in a sling. The bleached white cloth stood in sharp contrast to her khaki shirt. She must have been Yonabaru’s girlfriend. I was glad they’d both survived.

There was a light in the woman’s eyes unlike any I’d ever seen before, as though she were watching a lion that had broken free of its chains. It was a look reserved for something other than human.

“Come strollin’ in here like nothin’ happened-makes me sick just lookin’ at you.”

“I said, leave him alone.”

“Fuck him.”

Before I could stand up, Yonabaru had walked off. I stood slowly and dusted myself off. My jaw didn’t hurt too badly. It was nothing compared to the emptiness Rita had left inside me.

“He landed a good one,” I heard from behind me. It was Ferrell. He looked the same as always, with maybe another wrinkle or two in his forehead to show for the fight.

“You saw that?”

“Sorry, I didn’t have time to stop him.”

“It’s okay.”

“Try not to hold it against him. He lost a lot of friends that day. He just needs some time to settle down.”

“I saw Nijou-what was left of him.”

“Our platoon lost seventeen men. They’re saying three thousand casualties all together, but there’s no official number yet. You remember that pretty young lady who ran Cafeteria No. 2? She didn’t make it, either.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not your fault, but that hardly matters at a time like this. You know, you gave Yonabaru’s lady friend quite a kick. Among others.”

“Others?”

“Others.”