Unaware of what's going on, I take off running along the front of the warehouse, heading for the alley that leads to the boats. But I don't sense any immediate threat. The entire area's empty. There's no enemy, no alarm.
Then the people begin to wail. Within a few seconds, a mob of Outcast Vikings appear before us, and the arrows and catapults begin to fly. I'm blown off my feet, into the front wall of the warehouse. There's a searing pain just above the back of my right knee. Something has struck my back as well, but doesn't seem to have penetrated my vest.
I try to get up, but dad pushes me back down, shielding my body with his own. The ground ripples under me as the impact of the flaming catapults causes the explosions.
It's a horrifying sensation being pinned against the wall as the fireballs rain down. What's the expression my father used for easy kills? Like shooting fish in a barrel. We're the fish, the street the barrel.
"Hiccup!" I'm startled by my dad's voice.
"What? Yes, what?" I answer.
"Listen to me. Tornado and the other dragons can't land during the attack, but it's imperative you're not spotted." He says.
"So they don't know I'm here? I assumed I was my presence that brought on this punishment.
"They think so. His raid was already scheduled." Dad says. Suddenly a different voice comes up. Calm but forceful. The voice of a chief used to calling the shots under pressure. "There's a light gray warehouse three down from us. It has a bunker in the far north corner."
"Can we get there?" I ask.
"We'll do our best." He says.
Everyone must've heard my dad's voice because everyone – my bodyguards, my friends – are getting up. My eye instinctively searches for Toothless and Skullette. Toothless must've run off somewhere, but I locate Skullette and see she's on her feet, apparently unharmed.
"We've got maybe forty-five seconds to the next wave," dad says.
I give a grunt of pain as my right leg takes the weight of my body, but I keep moving. No time to examine the injury. Better not look now anyway. Fortunately, I have on the shoe that Skullette designed. It grips the asphalt on contact and springs free of it on release. I'd be hopeless in my regular boot. Dad has the lead, but no one else passes me. Instead they match my pace, protecting my sides, my back. I force myself into a sprint as the seconds tick away.
We pass the second gray warehouse and run along a dirt brown building. Up ahead, I see a faded gray façade. Home of the bunker. We have just reached another alley, need only to cross it to arrive at the door, when the next wave of flaming catapults begins. I instinctively dive into the alley and roll toward the gray wall.
This time it's Toothless who throws himself over me to provide one more layer of protection from the attacks. It seems to go on longer this time, but we are further away. I shift onto my side and find myself looking directly into Toothless's eyes. For a moment the world recedes and there is just his stern face, his eye pupils reduced to slits, his nose wrinkling as he tries to catch his breath.
"You all right?" I ask, my words nearly drowned out by an explosion. He replies with a grunt. "I don't think they've seen me. I mean, they're not following us."
Toothless peers in the direction of another catapult slinging off. He urges me to my feet. Still feeling too winded to move, I crawl until my vision is lined with his. They've targeted something else. But what? There's nothing back there but –
The realization hits us at the same time. "The hospital." Instantly I spring up and shout to the others, "They're targeting the hospital!"
"Not your problem!" says Gobber firmly. "Get to the bunker!"
"But there's nothing there but the wounded!" I say.
"Hiccup." I hear the warning note in my dad's voice and know what's coming. "Don't even think about - !" I jump on Toothless and we soar off into the air.
With the distraction gone, I hear another sound. Crossbow fire coming from the roof of the dirt brown warehouse across the alley. Along with the sight of fireballs shooting in the opposite end of the street. Someone is returning fire. Before anyone can stop me, I make a beeline for the roof. We're still close enough to the ground that I can hear a voice, "Don't stop!" I hear Skullette say beneath me.
I watch a she makes a dash for an access ladder and begins to scale it. Climbing. One of the things she does best. Then there's the sound of her boot on someone's face. If it belongs to Gobber, Skullette's going to pay dearly for it later on. I make the roof and help drag Skullette onto the tar. I pull her up beside me, and then we take off for the row of crossbow nests on the street side of the warehouse. Each looks to be manned by a few Vikings. We skid to a nest with a pair of soldiers, hunching down behind the barrier.
"Stoick know you're up here?" to my left I see Caesar behind one of the crossbows, looking at us quizzically.
I try to be evasive without flat-out lying. "He knows where we are, all right."
Caesar laughs. "I bet he does. You been trained in these?" she slaps the stock of her crossbow.
"I have. Back home." Says Skullette. "But I'd rather use my own weapons."
"Yes, we've got our bows." I hold up mine, then realize how decorative it must seem. "It's more deadly than it looks."
"It would have to be." Says Caesar. "All right. We expect three more waves. They have to drop their shields as they reload the catapults. That's out chance. Stay low!" I position myself to shoot from one knee.
"Better start with fire." says Skullette.
I nod and pull an arrow from my right sheath. If we miss out targets, these arrows will land somewhere – probably the warehouse across the street. A fire can be put out, but the damage an explosive can do may me irreparable.
Suddenly they appear on the ground, two blocks down maybe. Fourteen Outcast Vikings in a "V" formation. "Geese!" Skullette yells to me. And I know exactly what she's talking about. She told me about how she hunt's geese back during training. During migration season, when she would hunt fowl, she developed a system with her father of dividing the birds so they don't' both target the same ones.
I load the arrow in the bow, and take a quick but good look at it, before I let it go. I get the far side of the V, Skullette takes the near, and we alternate shots at the front soldier. There's no time for further discussion. I estimate the lead time on the Vikings and let my arrow fly. I catch the bicep of on arm, causing him to stop, drop and roll after his arm bursts into flames. Skullette just misses the head honcho. A fire blooms on an empty warehouse roof across from us. She swears under her breath.
The Outcast I hit runs and spins out of formation, but still shots his crossbow arrows. None of them run, though. They stay in the street, but the formation is broken.
"Good shot." says Skullette.
"I wasn't eve aiming for him," I mutter. I'd set my sights on the Viking in from of him. "They're faster than we think."
"Positions!" Caesar shouts. The next wave of Outcasts is appearing already.
"Fire's no good," Skullette says. I nod and we both load explosive-tipped arrows. Those warehouses across the way look deserted anyway.
As the soldiers move in, I make another decision. "I'm standing!" I shout to Skullette, and rise to my feet. This is the position I've learned I get the best accuracy from. I lead earlier and score a direct hit on the Viking, blasting a hole right in front of him and sending him flying back with bits of dirt debris. Skullette blows another Outcast from behind. He flies and crashes into the street. Behind me I can hear Toothless firing with his plasma blast. He hits a catapult and the whole thing sets off a series of explosions as its pieces go up in smoke.
Without warning, a third V formation unveils. This time, Skullette squarely hits the head Outcast of the fleet. I take the back one by surprise, causing him to spin into the Outcast behind him. Together they collide into the pond of an old daycare center. The fourth goes down from a crossbow arrow.
"All right, that's it," Caesar says.
Flames and heavy black smoke from the wreckage obscure our view. "Did they hit the hospital?"
"Must have," he says grimly.
I hurry toward Toothless who somehow got to the far end of the warehouse, the sight of Astrid and Fishlegs emerging from behind a few boards surprises me. I thought they'd still be hunkered down in the alley.
"They're growing on me," Skullette says.
We hop on Toothless and fly off. We stop a few yards away from the remaining line-up of enemy catapults. When my foot hits the ground, I find a bodyguard, and Snotlout and the twins waiting. I expect resistance, but Toothless pulls me to the hospital. Not one to question a free pass, I take off into the street.
"Oh, no," I whisper as I catch sight of the hospital. What used to be the hospital. I move past the wounded, past the burning catapult wrecks, fixated on the disaster ahead of me. Toothless matches my speed. People screaming, running about frantically, but unable to help. The flaming boulders have collapsed the patients within. A group of rescuers has assembled, trying to clear a path to the inside. But I already know what they will find. If the crushing debris and the flames didn't get them, the smoke did.
I'm scared and surprised to see Gobber at my shoulder. But the fact that he does nothing only confirms my suspicions. Vikings don't abandon an accident until it's hopeless.
"Come one, Hiccup. Stoick says they can get the dragons in for us now." He tells me. But I can't seem to move.
"Why would they do that? Why would they target people who were already dying?" I ask him.
"Scare others off. Prevent the wounded from seeking help," says Gobber. "Those people you met, they were expendable. To Alvin, anyway. If the Outcasts win, what will they do with a bunch of damaged slaves?"
I remember listening all those years to my dad and Gobber discuss about Alvin. Me, not paying close attention. Wondering why they even bothered to dissect his motives. Why thinking like out enemy would ever matter. Clearly, it could've mattered today. When Astrid questioned the existence of the hospital, she, as well as my father and Gobber were not thinking of the disease, but this. Because they never underestimate the cruelty of those we face.
I slowly turn my back to the hospital and find my dad, flanked by Astrid and Skullette and the others, standing a couple yards in front of me. His manner's unrattled. Cool even. I feel suspended in time. Held afloat in a cloud of heat that generates not from my surroundings, but from my own being. Dad appears and gets a firm lock on my arm, but I'm not planning on running now. I look over at the hospital – just in time to see the rest of the structure give way - and the fight goes out of me.
All those people, the hundreds of wounded, the relatives, the medics, are no more. I turn back to Gobber, the swelling on his face left by Skullette's boot. I'm no expert, but I think his nose might be broken. I hear my dad speak, and his voice is more resigned than angry, though. "Back to the boats."
I obediently take a step forward and wince as I become aware of the pain behind my right knee. The adrenaline rush that overrode the sensation has passed and my body parts join in a chorus of complaints. I'm banged up and bloody and someone seems to be hammering on my left temple from inside my skull. Dad quickly examines my face, then scoops me up and jogs for the beach. Halfway there I puke on his shirt, and possibly part of his beard. It's hard to tell because he's short of breath, but I think he sighs.
A small boat, different from the one that transported us here, waits on the water. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Toothless matching the pace of my dad. The second we're both on board, we take off. I get to smell the sea and fresh air this time. I'm posted above deck so that I can get some fresh air. Dad and Skullette do some emergency first aid on people to hold them until we get back to Berk. I want to take off my vest, since I got a fair amount of vomit on it as well, but it's too cold to think about it.
I lie on the floor with my head in Astrid's lap. Her fingers gently brush a few strands of hair off my sweaty forehead. Toothless enclosing us with his body and wings. The last thing I remember is Gobber spreading a couple of burlap sacks over me.
When I wake up, I'm warm and patched up in a bed in Goathy's house. She's there, checking my vital signs. I see Gobber walk up behind her. Goathy writes something on the wooden floor, and Gobber translates, "How do you feel?"
"All little beat-up, but all right," I say.
On the bedside table is a piece of shrapnel they removed from my leg. Goathy's more concerned with the damage by brain might've suffered from the explosions. But I don't have double vision or anything and I can think clearly. My breakfast is disappointingly small. Just a few slices of bread and some warm yak milk.
I've been called down to an early morning meeting at the Great Hall. I start to get up and then realize they plan to carry me directly there. I want to fly, but that's out, so I negotiate my way into a wheelchair. I feel fine, really. Except for my head, and my legs, and the soreness from the bruises, and the nausea that hit a couple minute after I ate. Maybe a wheelchair's a good idea.
Gobber first carries me down the steps from Goathy's house, there I find the wheelchair and Toothless. He greets me with a gentle snuggle and an almost, relieved purr. As they wheel me down, I begin to get uneasy about what I will face. Skullette and I directly disobeyed orders yesterday, and Gobber has the injury to prove it. Surely, there will be repercussions. When I get to the Great Hall, the only ones who've arrived are Astrid, Skullette, my dad, Chief Boggs, and Gobber.
Chief Boggs beams and says, "There's our little warrior!" and the others are smiling so genuinely that I can't help but smile in return. As the room fills, I brace myself for a less congenial reception. But the only person who registers any kind of negativity is my dad, and I have a feeling it's more related to the war than my little stunt on Outcast Island. Gobber wears a thick gathering of gauze across the bridge of his nose. I was right about it being broken.
I get wheeled in between Astrid and Skullette. Skullette touches my temple gently, "How do you feel?"
They must've served garlic and squash for the breakfast vegetable. The more people who gather, the stronger the fumes are. My stomach turns and the light from the skylight suddenly seems too bright. "Kind of rocky," I say. "How are you?"
"Fine. They dug out a couple of pieces of shrapnel. No big deal," she says.
Dad calls the meeting to order. "Now, I assume you all know the results of the gathering at Outcast Island yesterday." I watch as people shift their gazes to me. Seeing me in the wheelchair, bruised, streaks of washed away blood. "But all in all it was a success. And Hiccup does deserve a round of applause for his courage. The result is more than we had hoped for." The Vikings applaud, and Astrid, Skullette and the others join in. "Yes, yes. However, given the circumstances, I think we should discuss the decision to send Hiccup into actual combat."
The decision? To send me into combat? Then it's possible he's not mad that I flagrantly disregarded orders, flew away with Toothless, and gave my bodyguards the slip?
"It was a tough call," Dad says, furrowing his brow. "But the general consensus was that we weren't going to get anything worth using if we locked him up in a bunker somewhere every time a catapult goes off."
"And you're all right with that?" asks Gobber.
Astrid has to kick me under the table before I realize he's talking to me. Even with my bruises, she doesn't hold back her strength. "Oh! Yeah, I'm completely all right with that. It felt good. Doing something for a change."
"Well, let's be just a little more judicious with his exposure. Especially now that the Outcasts know what he can do," dad says. There's a rumble of assent from around the fire pit.
After about another hour, my dad sends everyone off. Skullette wheels me back to my bed at my house. We laugh a little about the cover-up. Skullette says no one wanted to look bad by admitting they couldn't control us. I'm kinder, saying they probably don't want to jeopardize the chance of taking us out now that they've gotten a decent look at our fighting style. Both things are probably true. Skullette has to go meet with Gobber for training, down in the blacksmith shop, so I doze off. It seems like I've only shut my eyes for a few minutes, but when I open them, I flinch at the sight of Astrid sitting a couple feet from my bed. Waiting. Possibly for several hours if my time is right.
When she sees me awake, she saunters over and softly sits on my bed. She doesn't say anything, and I don't know what to say to her, so I stay quiet. I don't know if she's expecting me to say something, but something must be on her mind if she's here and the way she's behaving. She doesn't speak, and as I'm about to, her hand moves to my head. Her face shows slight hurt when I flinch. I didn't mean to, it's a reflex since all she's done in the past is punch me as a way of communication.
She just runs her fingers across a puckered scar above my temple with a touch as light as a moth wings.
Then she plants a kiss on my lips, and then disappears.