Shadow Of The Past Trilogy ∞ THE DISPLACED

79 ∞ the unexpected

Day Eighteen ∞ Monday, August 27, 1979

DANNY FROZE IN MID-BREATH, chest pounding, eyes glued to the shard glinting above Mickmi. Apocalypse stared at her, muttering something between his teeth.

"She's a healer," Atlas repeated, insistent, stepping closer. "You feel it, don't you?" He raised calm hands, prepared to intervene.

That's it. Danny couldn't just stand by just because he was told to do so.

"Let her go!" He rushed forward, but Atlas blocked him across his abdomen, latching onto his arm. Danny jammed his right elbow into Atlas's ribs but he wouldn't budge.

"Give her a fucking chance, kid," Atlas snapped as Danny tried to break free from the steel grip.

Apocalypse stepped backward again, glancing at them with sweat beading under the brim of his cap.

"You're insane, Apocalypse—or whatever your name is," Danny spat. "What has she ever done but try to help?" He twisted to get out of the vice grip. "Let her go. If you have to hold somebody, take me instead." He stopped struggling and tried to will Apocalypse to focus on him. "Take me."

Atlas pushed Danny aside. "You can feel her healing you, can't you?" Atlas said. "Don't – fucking – lose it. This is not part of your mission, remember?"

Mickmi's eyes snapped open, her face still. She could barely meet Danny's gaze with her head trapped at the awkward angle by her hair. She moved her lips, but no sound came out.

—Listen to the breath of wind... Here is no fear.

Apocalypse glanced down at her, grimaced and shoved her away. She caught herself from falling and spun around with unexpected agility. Her skirt fanned out in four parts, exposing bare skin above her thigh-high boots before she came to a standstill and locked her gaze with Danny.

Danny wanted to go to her and stop that trickle of blood on her neck, but she shook her head once.

—You're bleeding.

—I am fine.

He caught his breath. He hadn't been imagining it—it was her voice in his mind.

—I can hear you!

She responded with a fleeting smile as she straightened her circlet and hair.

Apocalypse rubbed his temples as he eyed the three. Suddenly his attention shifted to his four-and-a-half fingers. He closed them into a fist several times, thoughtful, then fixed his gaze on the pistol on the floor between them. Before either he or Atlas could act, the floor swallowed the pistol like quicksand.

"Deymos... my vessel shall safe keep the weapon," Mickmi said softly and touched her neck. She inspected the crimson on her fingers, then lifted her gaze to Apocalypse. "Your gratitude is not required. If you wish, I can facilitate the regrowth of the missing digit and end your discomfort. I have a— a health and healing machine... on this vessel."

Apocalypse snorted.

It was too much. "What hell is wrong with you people?" Danny pushed past Atlas. He felt Atlas grip his shoulder.

"Let him," Apocalypse said.

Danny threw off Atlas's hand and got into the man's face. "Can't you see she's more peaceful than any of us, to the point of trying to heal you even though you killed her guide, threaten to even kill her or worse, taking my family hostage, and what the hell for? Let them go. They haven't done anything. She hasn't done anything. Why don't you take your troops and defend our country from real threats like—like the Russians or something instead of wasting our hard-earned tax dollars on us and your stupid, arrogant paranoia? Leave us alone. I should report you all when this is over, but I suppose the next thing I'll find out I'm a threat to my own country and you'll decide to off—"