A man came up over the top of the ladder. He was carrying a body over his shoulder, and breathing hard.
“Here’s Kirk,” he said. “Where’ll I put him?”
There was a clear space off to the right. Kirk pointed to it. “Over there, Charley. I’ll help.”
It was hard to move. He’d never been tired like this before. He’d never been afraid like this, either. He didn’t know what he was afraid of. Something in the Officer’s voice.
He helped to lay his father down. He’d seen bodies before. He’d handled them, fighting on the pillbox walls. But never one he’d known so long, one he’d eaten and slept and wrestled with. The thick arm that hauled him out of bed this morning, the big hands that warmed the baby against the barrel chest. You saw it lying lax and cold, but you didn’t believe it.
You saw it. Y
