Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,34

any idea what—”

Rook didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. A wave of nausea took his breath away. He felt his eyes roll back and sensed gravity pulling on his body. Then nothing.

Rook was dead.

THIRTEEN

MUD SPLATTERED AS the girth of Rook hit the path. His face sank in to the ears. If his lungs were working, he would have drowned in the ooze. But Rook was already dead.

Somi placed her shotgun on the ground and struggled to roll Rook onto his back and out of the mud. King arrived a second later, dropping his M4.

“We need to get his pack off,” he said.

Somi held Rook on his side while King yanked off the backpack. He tossed it aside and rolled Rook onto his back. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. He positioned his hands over Rook’s chest to begin CPR. Before he could push, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Don’t,” Sara said, “you’ll break his ribs.”

“You’re damn right,” King said. “You want me to let him die?”

Rook’s body jolted. King flinched back.

Rook coughed mud into the air, sat up, and wiped his face. He looked at the mud on his hands. “Son of a bitch! Someone please tell me I did not just fucking die from Brugada.”

King smiled and slapped Rook on the shoulder. “Good to have you back.” He pulled Rook to his feet. “Are the motion sensors in place?”

Sara shook her head. Rook had died. He was dead at their feet. If not for the cardioverter defibrillator in his chest he would have stayed dead. And now, just moments after his return from the dead, King was back to business as though nothing had happened. She didn’t know what to think. Had they seen so much death that a fallen teammate had no emotional toll?

As he removed a handkerchief from his vest and began wiping off his face, Rook said, “They’re all up and running. Queen and Knight were setting up the last trip wire when we headed back.”

Sara couldn’t stand that no one was addressing Rook’s near-death experience. “Are you okay, Rook? You were dead.”

Rook thumped his chest and gave a weak smile. “Feels like bad heartburn. If you’ve got a glass of milk, let’s talk. Otherwise, drop it.”

It was then that Sara realized their silence wasn’t about not caring, or being immune to death. They were terrified of it. They didn’t even want to speak of it. She watched as Bishop, who hadn’t moved or stopped keeping watch during the whole ordeal, shared a brief smile with King. Their relief at Rook’s survival shone clearly in their eyes. These guys were family. They were—

Sara froze. Something felt different. So small she couldn’t pinpoint it. The environment had changed, but with the distraction of Rook’s death and the constant reek of decomposition, she’d failed to notice it before. “King, something’s not right.”

King felt hokey issuing the order based on Sara’s intuition, but her ability to sense things had been uncanny thus far. “Form a circle. Cover all sides. Pawn, get in the middle.”

Sara found herself wedged at the center of three massive bodies and one small one wielding a shotgun.

Silence returned to the ravaged village. Sara concentrated on blocking out the smell, focusing her attention on her hearing. No good. The stench overpowered her senses. She held her breath and closed her eyes.

She ignored the brewing headache caused by the foreign smells, the sun pinching her exposed skin, and the severe itch behind her ears. Through it all, she felt something. Running. Breathing.

Then they all heard it. A man screamed, his voice a high-pitched staccato. The group collectively turned toward the shriek. The stranger burst from the tall grass and entered the clearing, fear etched onto his face. He carried an AK-47. His green uniform was emblazoned with a red badge that held a single gold star at its center. Vietnamese People’s Army. Not a Death Volunteer. Without pause he barreled across the clearing, heading for the tall grass on the other side and the forest beyond.

King took aim and prepared to fire, but paused. The man was terrified. Not just terrified. He was scared shitless, screaming like some B-movie horror bimbo. Then the man saw them. He didn’t have time to register whether they were friend or foe. He just saw them standing there and opened fire.

The grass in front of the man exploded as a human-sized blur struck him head-on. The soldier’s feet came out from under him as he flipped back. A moment