“You’re not due for weeks, Hannah.” I shake my head. There is no way this is happening, not now.
“This isn’t an exact science, you know!”
“But the baby will be too early, won’t it? You can’t have it yet.” I don’t believe it. Maybe if I don’t let her believe it, it won’t be true.
“I don’t think I get much of a say in the matter!” She cries out then, doubling over as I grab her arms to keep her upright.
“We have to get to the new camp,” I tell her. I look around quickly, not even sure what I’m trying to find. There’s nothing. I look back to Hannah. “I think…well, I think my arm’s broken. I’m not sure I can carry you. Can you keep walking?”
“Do I have a choice?” she growls through clenched teeth.
I support her as much as I can, stopping every ten or fifteen minutes as another contraction hits her.
“How much farther?”
“A half mile, tops,” I tell her.
“I don’t think I can make it.”
After everything else we’ve overcome, this can’t possibly be happening now. I don’t know that much about pregnancy or babies, but I know newborns that arrive too early need a lot of help. They need extra oxygen. They need incubators. They need someone who knows what the fuck they’re doing.
I’m not even sure getting her to the rest of the group will make any difference, but I know the chances of having a successful birth in the street are right about nil. I have to get her moving.
I move in front of her and place one hand on her belly and the other on the side of her face.
“Hannah Savinski,” I say, “I’ve seen you do shit the most alpha guy in the world would balk at. You’ve endured what would cause most people to give up—put a bullet in their skulls. You are the strongest woman in the world, and you can do anything if you set your mind to it.”
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she stares at me. The fear is still in her eyes, but there’s something else as well—the determination I’ve seen from her so many times before.
“We’re going to make it to the group,” I say. “We’re going to keep going, and we’ll stop when we need to, but we’re going to make it.”
“Okay,” she says, nodding quickly. “We’re going to make it.”
“That’s right.”
“There’s something you gotta do for me though.”
“Anything,” I say.
“Tell me what you meant when you said all that shit to Caesar,” Hannah says. “Tell me all of it.”
“Not now.”
“Yes, now!” she yells at me. “I need the damn distraction, and I have the feeling I’m going to be furious at you! That’s as good a distraction as any!”
I glance at the dark sky. We need to move, and I don’t have the time to argue with her.
“All right,” I say, giving in. “I’ll tell you.”
“Damn right you will.”
We start walking, and she glares until I start talking.
“When I was out patrolling a few nights ago, I found one of them.”
“One of the aliens?”
“Yeah.”