part twelve
It hit Wendy like a tidal wave. Suddenly she was forced to her knees by terrible pain and anguish. Confused voices barraged her mind. Mom... dad... dead... dead... dying... oh god... Images of a woman falling to the ground played in her mind over and over again, her blood splattering against the walls and onto the floor. The pain coming from a horrified child caused her to let out a gasp and hold her head in her hands.
Ford dropped down beside her and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Wendy? Are you alright?"
"Oh my god..." Mommy... no... oh god, please no...
"Wendy?" Picollo ran up from behind Brody and knelt on the other side of her, worry etched onto his face.
"Dr. Smith?" Breathless, she pointed just to the left of them, where a small clearing could be seen through the trees.
"There."
"Mia, the launch...you have to...can't let Mitchell...get away..."
Mia stared at the object in her hands and her Mike's voice echo eternally in her mind. Could she do it? Could she do that to her own father? There was no doubt he was insane, but if it wasn't for him, she wouldn't even be alive. He had raised her after her mother had died; didn't she owe him for that? He had treated her well enough; she wouldn't call theirs a loving relationship, but it hadn't been neglectful.
"Mia, he can't get away. I know... it's hard, but... he can't... start... the war..."
But what about his plans? What about what he had done to Lucas? And Bridger? For God's sake, he had tried to kill her! How could she forgive him? Yet how could she kill him...
"Please, Mia. Promise me!"
What about her promise? She reached down and stroked Mike's lifeless face, still cradled in her lap. He really had loved her. He had trusted her with his cause. Who was she to fail him now? He had died for her... how could she not repay his bravery by keeping her promise?
"Mia, I love you. Don't forget that. Don't worry, Mia... it will all be... okay... you're so beautiful... I love you..."
Mia knew what she had to do. She kissed her fingers and gently placed them on Mike's pale lips in a final goodbye. This is for you, Mike, she thought.
Lifting her head up to the sky, she offered up a single prayer for her father before pressing the button.
She couldn't see the explosion; she couldn't feel the heat of the flames burn her skin, couldn't hear the useless screams of her father as the metal shrapnel plummeted through his body like a plastic straw through a telephone pole in a hurricane. No one saw the explosion, but she knew it had happened. She felt a hole open up in her heart and she knew that her father was dead. Out of respect for him, she let a single tear fall down her bloodstained cheek.
Lucas looked up at Captain Bridger through teary eyes. The pain was so great that it hurt to breathe; it hurt to speak, to move, even to think. Darkness was closing in on the edges of his vision.
"Captain..."
"Shh, Lucas. It's okay. It's all okay, now."
Bridger knew that adrenaline had been the only thing that had gotten Lucas through the past ordeal. His wound was past badly needing medical attention, and had turned into a life-or-death situation. Now that it was all over, the adrenaline was gone, and his small body was no longer capable of ignoring the gaping wound in his side. From the distant look in Lucas' eyes, he wasn't going to last much longer.
"I'm so scared..." came the tiny voice. "Everything's getting fuzzy..."
"Lucas, hold on." His voice cracked and he blinked back tears. "Please. Don't give in!"
"It's okay, Captain." The look on Lucas' face scared Bridger to death. His eyes weren't focused on anything, and his skin was clammy and deathly pale.
"No, Lucas! Stay with me! You can't leave me now!"
"It's better... this way..." Bridger could have sworn that there was a faint smile playing on his thin lips.
"Lucas, no! Not yet! Not before I tell you-"
"Thank you... Captain... for everything..."
"No! Wait! I have to let you know-"
"I love you... Dad..." Bridger's mind spun a mile a minute. He couldn't possibly have known. Tears spilled down his cheek.
"I love you too, son." Lucas closed his eyes and smiled. Then suddenly, his body convulsed with pain and the image of it laced his angelic features. "Lucas!" Then, just as sudden as it had come, the pain passed, and his small body went limp. "Oh, god..." Bridger pulled Lucas' limp frame into his arms and cradled him as footfalls came from farther down the path that led from the clearing. He heard voices, but they seemed to be coming from so far away... He felt hands try and take Lucas' body from him, but he struggled. No one was going to take Lucas away from him again. Not now that he knew...
Picollo felt his heart stop beating as soon as the trees parted and he came into the clearing. There, lying in the middle of it, was Bridger, and it looked like he was cradling something... was that a body? Oh god... no, that couldn't be! Lucas couldn't be... the word wouldn't come. He wouldn't let it even come into his mind. Lucas couldn't die! That would defy all logic and anyway, it was against the rules... wasn't it?
"Captain!" Wendy brushed past Picollo in her anxiety and ran over to the couple. Gently, she laid a hand on Bridger's shoulder and tried to pry Lucas' body from Bridger's grasp. When he wouldn't let go, she cupped his cheek with her hand and forced him to meet her eyes.
They scared her. His eyes were red, filled with tears and showing more pain in them than she had imagined possible. "Captain Bridger? Nathan." He was in shock. She closed her eyes, connecting with his mind and his memories. In an instant, she knew what had happened, and tears fell from under her eyelids. Using her mind, she pleaded with him.
Nathan, you have to let him go. I can't help him if you don't let me see him. Nathan, please. Talk to me!
I'm not going to let anyone take him from me again!
Nathan, I only want to try and save him! Please! Let me help him; I can save him, but only if you let him go. Now, Nathan!
Suddenly, her eyes flew open as Lucas' weight fell into her lap. She smiled and wiped the tears from her eyes, focusing on the boy in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ford run to Bridger and lay a hand on his shoulder, trying to get the older man to talk.
Bridger's head was in his hands, and he showed no response to Ford's touch. He was shocked at the state his captain was in. He had never seen the man lose control. It went against his world to see this man-his captain, for god's sake, the man who always had the answers and was in control-lose it so completely. For the first time he could remember, Ford was scared.