Battleship

SADDLE RIDGE

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This isn’t how it all turns out.

Sam had conjured the final scenario in her head, the way the world was going to be saved. In the movie that was unspooling in her mind, of which she was now a part, she was convinced that she and her valiant companions were going to find themselves in a position to put an end to the alien invaders’ plan… and they’d do so with the help of—and in a perfectly coordinated attack with—Hopper and the intrepid crew of the John Paul Jones.

Now, as she, Mick and Cal stood on a ridge with a clear view down to Waikiki, she watched in mute horror as—far in the distance—the last remains of the destroyer sank beneath the waves. She saw men, small as dots from her vantage point, bobbing in the water, trying to get to shore.

She was suddenly aware that Mick was pressing up against her, and for a moment thought it was presumptuous of him to try to take advantage of the situation—right up until she realized that in fact her legs had given way and Mick had stepped in to keep her upright. Cal was coming in on the other side, also lending support.

“Hopper,” she managed to say.

Cal patted her arm. “I’m sorry.”

Seized with rage, none of which was directed at the men who were supporting her, Sam pulled away from both of them and stood there, on her own, staring at the place where a ship of the line had once been and now wasn’t.

Mick had pulled out a pair of binoculars and was studying the scene more closely. “Don’t give up hope. There are lifeboats deployed.”

She knew there had been, and nodded. She knew there was still hope; it just seemed to be growing fainter by the moment. “The John Paul Jones can’t stop those things from sending their message now,” she said. She and Mick traded looks.

“You know what that means,” said Mick.

She nodded.

Cal stared at the two of them as they started moving back to the Jeep. They paused when they realized he wasn’t following them, and Mick gestured impatiently for him to climb on board.

“You’re getting that weird violent look again,” said Cal. “I don’t like that look.”

Sam could not have given a damn at that moment about what looks Cal liked or didn’t like. Obviously Mick was of the same mind, as he said to Cal, “You said that satellite only orbits by once every twenty-four hours.”

“Right.”

“So if they miss it, they have to wait,” said Mick.

Cal frowned, thought about it, then shrugged. “I suppose.”

“Then we’re gonna go try and buy the world another day,” said Mick. Sam nodded in agreement.

They got into the Jeep, and then Cal stopped where he was. “You’re planning to attack them directly, aren’t you.”

“That’s the plan, Einstein. Now come on…”

And slowly Cal shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered, and he was trembling. “I’m not like you. I’m not heroic. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Get in the damned Jeep, Doc. I’m not kidding around.”

“Neither am I.”

Sam just looked at him with a combination of anger and disappointment, and said, “We don’t have time for this.” Before Mick could get out of the Jeep and go after Cal, Sam had gunned the engine and taken off.

Calvin Zapata stood there and watched them drive away, left alone with his cowardice.