Free Vampire's Day (Book 2): Zero Model by Yuri Hamaganov Page B

remained an invalid for the rest of his life. Here's the official death certificate.”
    She handed him the paper, and Bronson quickly ran through it. This was the third death since the start of operations.
    “What's with Pete? He also suffered serious burns, but he’s still alive? What are your forecasts?”
    “At the moment, I find it difficult to make a prediction. You'd better look at him, so it will be easier to understand what’s happening. Come on, it must be seen with your own eyes.”
    Bronson slowly and gently rose from the bed, mindful of his broken legs. To his surprise, the wounds hurt a lot less than he had expected. Apparently they’d used some new, powerful, and most likely secret analgesic from Palmer’s stockpile. He was familiar with Army medicine and welcomed the almost complete absence of weakness and vertigo, which was characterized by the use of these powerful drugs.
    “To the right.”
    He went out into the hallway and saw his soldier at the far end, as well as Palmer, dressed in a protective suit. On the floor there was various types of medical waste – the packaging of disposable syringes, blood-soaked bandages, whole and broken vials of medicines, paper and something else.
    “Pete is behind that door. You can’t go in, my men are working, but you can see him.”
    Behind the closed glass door, three doctors in white overalls and sealed helmets moved around the operating table, on which lay a naked man with a bandaged head. In spite of the bandages, Bronson identified him.
    “That’s impossible! I saw him yesterday, when he was burning. Impossible!”
    “I know that it’s impossible. And yet, this is Pete. Look again.”
    During his long service Bronson had seen many wounded, maimed and dead people, many of whom he had killed and mutilated personally. He had seen a lot of charred people: the enemies, civilians, his own soldiers. More severe wounds than burns were hard to imagine. He’d pulled bodies of crews from wrecked tanks and armored vehicles, turned into charred skeletons from intolerable heat; he’d seen how explosions and fires could make young men and women unrecognizable in a few seconds. Some of them weren’t lucky enough to die – they survived, and then lay in beds until the end of their lives, blinded and paralyzed, waiting for another dose of analgesic.
    Yesterday he’d pulled burning Pete Anderson out of the fire in the critical condition, along with the second soldier, Louis, the one who had died that morning from severe burns. But, lying on the operating table, Pete wasn’t going to die because of fourth-degree burns.
    No, he was obviously suffering, and had visible burns, but it was nothing like the critical condition he’d been in yesterday. His breathing was stable, and his pulse and body temperature were normal.
    “Here, look at him yesterday. This picture was taken shortly after he was brought here. And compare it with him now.”

33. Clash
     
    The shooting stopped suddenly, for no apparent reason - it reminded Sarah of a short-term lull in the heart of a powerful cyclone. And just like in the eye of the cyclone, the short-term lull didn’t last long. A few seconds, and the firestorm erupted with renewed vigor, the attackers heading in on a decisive assault, which would be the last.
    The attack began with a few cars that crashed into the wall at full speed and then exploded. The cloud of dust and smoke hadn’t settled, before the infantry rushed to break, next to them clanged bulldozers and heavy armored tractors. The return fire, which had virtually stopped for a few seconds after a series of bombings, opened up again; machine guns and mortars mowed down infantry, but new fighters immediately took the place of the fallen.
    Especially strong fighting unfolded in several breaches in the fence, where the bulldozers had cleared the road. She saw long ladders being thrown over the wall. She or anyone else in the control tower had never seen anything like