The Dying of the Light (Book 1): End by Jason Kristopher

infirmary, before I even realized it. Only when we got there did I realize the rest of Alpha squad was with us.
     
    I was only partly surprised to see Mary in the ward this late, attending to our friend. Turning as we rushed in, she held up her hands and ushered us back into the waiting area.
     
    “He’s okay for the moment, but he’s asleep, and needs it. So none of you are going to wake him up.” She motioned to the infirmary’s commander, Captain Stephen Drewson, who signed a form and headed over to us.
     
    “He’s sedated, for now. Multiple contusions and lacerations on his face and upper body, his jaw is broken in two places, and his nose. Swelling indicates he was hit in the ear several times as well.”
     
    I could see Kimberly getting red to match her hair, and laid a hand on her arm. Surprisingly enough, she didn’t immediately fling it off, but just took a deep breath.
     
    “Go ahead, doc,” I said.
     
    “Well, he didn’t go down easy, I’ll say that much for him. Bruises and scrapes on the knuckles as well as some blood that clearly isn’t his on his ACU indicates that he put up a hell of a fight. Whoever did this is definitely going to be in pain, from what I can guess. And they haven’t shown up here to be treated.”
     
    “That’s good to know, doc,” said a voice from behind us, and we turned to find Major Matthew Daniels standing there. Fort Carson’s Provost Marshal, the man wasn’t physically imposing, unless you’d seen him in the training grounds or in the gym. Even Gaines gave the man a wide berth. “Should make it easier to find them.”
     
    Rachel spoke up. “I think I know who you can start with, sir.” The look on her face made me feel sorry for the fool who engendered such a reaction in Rachel. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of whatever she was planning.
     
    Ten minutes later, we watched through the one-way glass in the provost’s office as Daniels interviewed Petty Officer, 3 rd Class Edward Ames, a member of Bravo squad. Lieutenant Commander Jake Powell, squadleader for Bravo, had joined us in the viewing room.
     
    “You look like you could use some medical attention,” said Daniels.
     
    He wasn’t wrong. Ames looked as though he’d been through the wringer and come out the other side hard. Split lip, eyebrow bleeding, and when they brought him in he was limping more than a little.
     
    “Just fell down the stairs, sir.”
     
    “Is that right? Which stairs would those be? We have to make sure the facility’s safe, after all.”
     
    Ames said nothing, and stared straight ahead.
     
    “Do I look stupid to you, kid? Or maybe you think I’m just dumb enough to believe that.”
     
    “No, sir.”
     
    “No, sir, what , soldier?”
     
    “No, sir, I don’t believe you’re dumb or stupid, sir.”
     
    “Well, then, that’s a start. Now, you wanna tell me where you really got your injuries? Cause it wasn’t from falling down the fucking stairs.”
     
    “I… It was a fight, sir.”
     
    “Oh, I see. A fight. Looks like you need a little more time in the gym, son. Cause you got your ass whupped!”
     
    Ames turned red and shouted. “Bullshit! I kicked that faggot’s ass!” Realizing he’d said too much, he slumped back in his chair, looking through the provost as if he didn’t exist.
     
    “You really are a moron, aren’t you?” Daniels just shook his head. “Why don’t you tell me who started it? Save yourself some brig time. Not all of it, mind you, but some.”
     
    Ames looked up from under lowered brows. “He did. Prancing fucking fairy!”
     
    The sound was like a thunderclap designed by God himself as Daniels’ hand slapped the tabletop. “That is enough, Seaman.”
     
    “Petty Officer, sir.”
     
    “Not if you don’t tell me what I want to know, it isn’t. Hell, you’ll be lucky to end up as a Seaman Apprentice. Wanna go back to swabbing decks, asshole?”
     
    Ames shook his head. “No. No,