Indomitable (Chronicles of Promise Paen #2) - W. C. Bauers Page 0,3

worse.

A jolt of pain caused Promise to cry out at twenty-nine. She collapsed onto her side, clutching her hands over her pounding chest. Surely there was a gaping hole in her heart that must have turned black by now. Perhaps all that remained of it was a deathly hollow, carved out by the worst kind of flesh eater. Survivor’s guilt.

I know because most of my first command is dead, she thought.

Her dead wouldn’t stop coming to her mind. The Skipper is dead, Lance Corporal Tal Covington shielded me from that blast and got hero-dead, Staff Sergeant Hhatan is dead because I left her behind, my mother—dead, father—dead, all turned to dust except for me.

Tears pooled in her eyes. “Sir, if you’re so good, how could you have let this happen?”

Promise willed herself up off the floor and on with her morning. She had a busy day ahead of her. The gunny was expecting her in less than an hour. She didn’t bother drying her eyes as she force-marched herself to the head, shedding clothes as she went. “On.” A bad memory flashed across her mind. Promise drowned it out by turning on the water as hot as she could stand it. A quick dunk under the faucet rinsed most of the night terrors away. She blindly felt for her towel on the wall. Dried. Stood up straight and punched her reflection in the face. Crack. The woman in the mirror was familiar except for the glass fractures—same eyes colored like sparkling ocean, same pale skin—but where Promise’s hair was short, the reflection’s was long. Where Promise was angles the woman in the mirror had curves. She was old enough to be Promise’s mother.

“Warn me next time.” Promise forced herself to breathe.

“Sorry, munchkin. I came as fast as I could.” Sandra Paen was dressed in a silk robe with a low neckline. An ornate tail curled over her shoulders, and coiled around her heart. Promise drew a circle around her breast, mimicking the coil of the dragon’s tail in the mirror.

“You remember.” Sandra’s hand was over her heart.

“How could I forget?” Of course Promise remembered the robe. It was the same one her mother had worn shortly before her death.

The gold band on Sandra’s hand caught the overhead light. The band symbolized a bond that was supposedly unbreakable. Life had proven otherwise.

“Look, Mom. Now is not the time. My unit has morning PT. I’m needed out there. I have to go.”

“The gunny can handle it.” Sandra dared Promise to deny it. Sandra reached out of view and came up with a towel. “You need to talk about the dreams,” she said as she dried her hair.

I already have. BUMED cleared me for duty, Promise thought. She didn’t feel like discussing this particular matter. Besides, her mother was adept at reading minds. Well, hers anyway.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You told the psychobabbler what he wanted to hear, not what’s really going on inside of you.” Sandra hung her towel on her side of the mirror and folded her arms.

Promise glanced at the empty hook on the wall and knew she was going mad.

Sandra cleared her throat. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

I told them enough … and I didn’t lie. A Marine never lies, but that doesn’t mean I have to tell the whole truth either. I’ve got this.

“For how long?” Sandra asked. “We both know you’re running on damaged cells. What happens when they fail?”

I’ll survive. Promise knew it was a lie. She was as close to lying as she had ever been comfortable with. It’s just a thought. I’m not responsible for every thought that crosses my mind.

How long could she hold it together? The question was unanswerable. Promise had started seeing visions of her deceased mother shortly after her father’s murder, just before she’d enlisted in the Republic of Aligned Worlds Marine Corps. Raiders had hit her birth world, Montana. Her father’s pacifism had gotten him killed. She’d been too young, too inexperienced, too far away, and too frightened to help him. She’d tried to outrun the pain ever since. How’s that working out for you, P? She never knew when her dearly departed mother would appear and read her like a well-worn book, but it was always at the most inconvenient of times.

Look, I need to get in my morning run. If I swear I’ll talk with someone will you let it go?

“Yes.”

Good. Talk later.

Promise turned away from the mirror and opened a drawer