Crystal Coffin by Anita Bell

low to his mate’s cheek and his ears alert to militia moving about too close for comfort.
    â€˜Where are the others?’ he asked.
    â€˜Hut, far end … Mulhany and Rogers injured … Don’t know about Harvey. Must think I’m dead … I think they’re right.’ He groaned but didn’t move. His chest was punctured in the midriff, turning green camouflage to red.
    â€˜Militia?’
    â€˜Ten … I saw ten, but there may be more.’
    A scream from the biggest hut died quickly. It was a woman’s voice, another young one.
    â€˜How many women?’
    â€˜Six … sounds like five now, and eight kids. Two of the bad guys are still fighting over this girl. Others must have escaped … rounded up an’ … brought back. Ooooooow, God it hurts.’
    â€˜Save your strength, Westy,’ Locklin said.
    â€˜Reinforcements?’
    â€˜Not coming. We’ve been ordered back to Maliana.’
    Corporal Steven West squeezed his eyes closed from the pain as the sun began to set. ‘Looks like it’s up to you,’ he said as one lip curled to a final grin. ‘God help us.’

    Nikki woke to the feeling that her arms and chest were cool. Her eyes opened and she looked down at a blouse that was undone down to her belly. She hurried to fasten her pearl buttons and saw that her sleeves had been completely torn away.
    She screamed, but her mouth was dry and the sound that came out was barely a squeak. She struggled to her feet, grappling at her sandals as she tried to pull them on without her socks. She nearly fell over.
    The cattle dog barked at her, stopping when Locklin leapt from the back of the truck and ran, skidding to a halt beside her. He was still trying to tuck the mobile phone onto his belt when she attacked him.
    â€˜What did you do to me!’ she demanded. Her broken fingernails clawed weakly at him and he gripped her forearms, holding her hands at a safe distance from his face without hurting her wrists. She kicked at him and overbalanced and he struggled not to let her fall.
    â€˜Heat stress,’ he said. ‘I did nothing. You had heat stress. I had to get you cool.’
    â€˜What?’ It took her a few moments to stop struggling. ‘Heat stress?’
    â€˜Yes. Heat stress,’ he repeated. ‘I just got you cool. Nothing else. I didn’t touch you.’
    â€˜But you …’ she said, looking at her wrists, ‘… saw?’
    â€˜Yes,’ he said, letting her go and hoping a bit of space might help to calm her down. She looked ready to cry and he knew her body couldn’t spare the water.
    â€˜Want a drink?’
    She nodded and he took an electrolyte sachet from his army day rations, emptied it into his canteen, put the lid back on and shook. Then he apologised for the half-empty sound that it made.
    â€˜I had to use the other half on your shirt sleeve to swab you down,’ he explained. ‘It’s okay, you weren’t too bad. I didn’t need to take off any more if that’s what you’re worried about — only feet, face, arms and chest.’
    But that was obviously enough. She slumped against the tree trunk and when the fizzing stopped inside the canteen, he handed it to her and watched her drain the contents into her mouth.
    â€˜Hungry?’
    She nodded and he handed her a Mars Bar, also from his army rations.
    â€˜You should eat more,’ he said, realising from the speed she ate it and from her lack of colour that she must have missed more than a day’s meals. ‘The heat won’t affect you so much.’
    She didn’t answer.
    If she didn’t like that question, he realised she wasn’t going to like the next one. But he asked it anyway. ‘Who did that to you?’
    Her eyes closed and gave him part of an answer — it wasn’t an accident.
    â€˜I did,’ she said, surprising him.
    She gulped from the canteen again and