Chapter Two

Something is out There…

Her eyes fluttered open. Smoke filled her lungs as she took her first breath. It reeked of burning fuel and smoldering metal. There was one other smell... one very distinct smell. She chose to ignore it. No use in mourning the dead when she very well could have been the next one. The scene was almost surreal. Sparking wires. Scorched walls. Smoke rising from all sorts of places. Metal twisted into ways that almost seemed beautiful. As lovely as it was, she needed to leave. Looking down at her bonds, she smiled. The wire that once connected her to the floor had snapped and the shackles around her ankles were cracked and about ready to fall off. With quick jolt, the metal restraints fell to pieces; freeing her from the ground. The bonds around her wrists were still holding tight however. She tried twisting her wrists, but they held fast. With an irritated sigh, she knew that she would have to deal with it later. Right then, she had to make her way out of the smoldering ship.

Gingerly she stood up. Nothing seemed to give or snap. There still was a knot in her neck and her muscles found it hard to move, but she seemed altogether. Ducking and weaving through the mess of wires and twisted metal, she headed for an opening in the haul.

"Help... Someone there? Please help," a weak voice came from a pile of metal and boxes.

It must be one of the soldiers, she thought to herself, I know that one of them was pulled out when the haul was breeched. Guess this one managed to hang on long enough, she started to pull the wreckage away.

What she found was a torn up man. Cuts and forming bruised lined his face and other exposed areas of flesh. Blood was flowing from his mouth; he apparently nearly bit off his tongue. As he coughed and uttered words the blood poured and bubbled out. He was starting to choke on his own blood.

"Stay calm," she turned his head just enough to let the blood flow out.

His breaths were still labored and the blood continued to pool. There was a rattling coming from his throat that seemed to originate in his cheat. She gingerly pulled the piece of metal sheeting off of the soldier. She let out a sigh as she looked at mangled body underneath. Sharp steel splinters pierced the poor man's body. It appeared that they has perforated his chest. She gently laid the metal sheet back down and looked to the soldier.

He looked up at her and understood, "Doesn't look good, huh?"

"Would you like the truth or a sweet little lie?" she smiled as she took hold of his hand.

He smiled back, "Whatever your targets preferred…"

She only smiled as she took his hand. He didn't understand her past… he didn't understand what she had done… he didn't understand that she never gave them a choice… she choose them for them… she know had to choose again…

"Shh…," she soothed him, "Close your eyes and a rescue team will soon be here soon. Rest and everything will be alright…," she smiled and squeezed his hand.

He gave a small chuckle, "A sweet little lie then…," his eyes fluttered back as his throat started to gurgle.

He tried to take in a deep breath, but his lungs could only take in so much. The only thing they were receiving was blood. He coughed once more to expel the blood from his mouth and throat. It was no use though.

The familiar sound of a death rattle filled the air. The young man was no longer suffering. She wished that she could have done more to ease his pain. She was never one to let another suffer… that was enough suffering in this existence.

… at least she held his hand…

Gently she closed his eyes and mumbled a quiet pray. Habit. She always had said one. Habit. A strange one.

Standing up slowly, she looked around to see where she could possibly escape. Scraps of sharp metal litter the bay. Wires strung about with arks of electricity spitting off of them. Plastic shards poked through and sat like traps waiting to draw blood. There was light though… coming through the holes that lined the haul of the ship.

She took a step towards the opening closest to her. A sharp pain shot up through her left leg. She clinched her teeth, but refused to make a sound.

Sounds alerted others to weakness… she mustn't be weak…

Looking down she could see that she had been burned from the fiery explosion. Odd how she didn't notice it before. It wasn't too bad. First to second degree burns. It certainly could have been worst. She was more relieved by the fact that her clothing seemed to be intact. A strange thought maybe, but it was one less thing to worry about. Checking over the rest of her, she found that she had several superficial cuts. Enough to bleed. Nothing to worry about. She's had worst… but it had been so long since she had bled… so long since she…

She licked a trickle of blood from her arm…

"Taste like… metal… Iron…? Maybe…," she shrugged her shoulders, "Not that it matters," she looked back to her chosen means of exit.

It was a hole in the side of the ship that was just big for her to slip through. Wading her way through the mass of sharp debris, she pulled herself through the opening and into the sunlight. She had to protect her eyes for a moment. It had been so long since she had felt the warm kiss of a sun. Locked away in the deepest darkest of places, she had only been treated to the fluorescent light that peeked into her cell on rare occasions. Now her body was bathed in a glorious light that surrounded her.

It was almost too… surreal…

"Maybe I did die in the crash," she took in a deep breath of fresh air.

She felt a metal barrel being placed up against her temple, "You're going to wish that you had," a voice hissed.

She smiled as she turned her head, "Good to see that I'm not the only survivor. I was afraid that I would have no one to talk to…"

"I bet you were," it was one of the soldiers.

His body was shaking. Possibly with adrenaline or fear. Or maybe some combination of the two. Blood was pouring down his face from a long cut across his brow. Bruises and burns lined his arms. His uniform was torn and bloodied. No longer in the pristine condition that it was when they first departed.

"Where are Shultz and Jordan?" the soldier asked through his clinched teeth.

She wasn't threatened by his aggressive demeanor. Fear and adrenaline makes people unbalanced. Unbalanced people were easier to deal with… when one knows how to.

Looking to his name tag, Angel spoke calmly, "Campbell is it? I hate to tell you, but your fellow soldiers… Shultz… Jordan… didn't make it. Jordan is in there," she indicated to ship, "He's just passed away. His wounds were far too severe. I don't know what happened to Shultz. I think he was pulled out when we started crash…," she lowered her eyes, "I'm so for your lose."

The soldier's face started to contort and twist as he tried to hold back his emotions. They would not stay hidden though. They poured out of him as tears flowed from his eyes and sounds of mourning filled the air.

"No," he yelled at her, "You're lying. You're lying! Shultz! Jordan! Where are you guys? Come on… there's no time for games," he peeked inside what remained of the ship, "Come on and help me secure this bitch," he remembered that he should be keeping his gun trained on Angel, "Guys? Come on… Jordan…?" he must have seen what remained of his comrade, "Oh god…," he bent over and tried to catch his breath.

"Breathe," Angel coached him, "It's never easy seeing someone die, especially when you work closely with them…"

"SHUT UP!" Campbell swung his fist as hard as he could.

She could have avoided the punch, but he would have just kept swinging if he didn't land a hit. His fist made contact with her jaw.

A solid hit…, she thought to herself as she staggered back from the blow.

It really didn't hurt. Stung a little. Not too bad though. She only acted stunned so maybe the soldier would be satisfied with his violent revealed. Falling back, she lend up against the remaining outer haul of the ship. Slipping down, she landed on the charred earth. She shook her head to act as if she were still in shock from the punch. Leaning her head up against the ship, she hope that the soldier would approve of his handy work.

Something caught her eye…

A panel on the side of the ship… not a panel… the lid to a compartment… it was ajar… something familiar gleamed inside… her heart skipped a beat… things that was a part of her… so close…

But why… why are they here…? She resisted the urge to reach out for the objects of her desire, so… clear now…

"Is that all you can take!?" the soldier yelled at her, "Not such a tough little soldier are you?" he spit on her, "The best that military had to offer… you… sicken me," he gave her a swift kick to the ribs.

She recoiled in pain. A kick to the ribs was a kick to the ribs. Especially since the soldier was wearing steel toes boots. It hurt. It was a sharp pain that filled her side. She just tucked herself up into a ball. She looked to the hidden compartment. What was inside was so tempting to grab. It could save her from more blows.

… but it would seal her fate as well…

"You did all this… you caused all this to happen…," he brought up his gun, "You made the ship crash… you killed Jordan… Shultz!" he called out, "You kill him too?" his rage was starting overflow, "You… you deserve this…," he took aim at her.

She watched as he placed his finger over the trigger. There was nothing but anger in his eyes as he stared down at her. There were tears as well. They flowed down his cheeks and mingled with his blood. They were hot, angry tears.

Unjustified… she had nothing to do with the crash…

"STAND DOWN PRIVATE CAMPBELL!" an authoritative voice boomed through the air.

Behind the shaking man stood a group of battered and bruised soldiers. They looked like they had been through hell. Blackened eyes. Cuts where ever skin showed. One even had one of his arms in a makeshift sling.

Only six… there were ten… this should be interesting… Angel noticed that soldiers were missing.

"Stand down Private!" the sergeant yelled at the soldier, "There's no time for that!" he pulled the gun out of the man's hands.

"You know she's the one that caused all this," Campbell yelled back, "She's the one that caused the crash! She's the one that caused the deaths of Jordan and Shultz!"

Sgt. Collins looked to his man than to Angel then to the ruins of the ship, "Jordan? Shultz? They're dead?"

The soldier shook his head, "She killed them… with her escape attempt. We need to execute her for her crimes!"

"Get a hold of yourself," the sergeant slapped the nearly hysterical man across the face, "There's no way that she could have caused the crash. She was secured the entire time. She was drugged when she came abroad. She didn't cause the crash."

Campbell stumbled back from the surprise strike. He was obviously stunned and not sure what to do next. The sergeant knew what to do though.

"Secure the prisoner," he ordered a couple of his men, "Check the bay for Jordan, Shultz and anything useful," he ordered the others.

Two of the soldiers headed into the remains of the ship, while three came up to Angel. They roughly pulled her up and started to check the binds that remained on her.

"Make sure those are good and tight," Sgt. Collins eyed the shackles around her wrists.

"Prisoner is secure sir," one soldier reported.

"Trust me," Angel brought up her bound arms, "They are very secure."

"Good…," the sergeant grumbled as he turned his attention back to the ship, "How's it looking in there corporal? Are our boys alright? Is there anything left that we can use to contact base?"

"Sorry sir," the corporal stuck his head out, "Jordan's succumb to injuries sustained in the crash. Shultz is nowhere to be found. And most of the equipment in here is fried," he pulled himself out of the ship.

"Damnit!" the sergeant cursed under his breath, "… Jordan and Shultz were good men… and good soldiers… a little zealous sometimes, but they were loyal," he eyed Angel.

She just stared back at him. She wasn't about to defend her choices to a man that didn't understand her past… or how complex the situation he had gotten him and his men into.

He speaks of loyalty, but he doesn't understand it. It's give and take… he's the only one giving… so are his men… their lives will be taken if they continue on this destructive path…, she felt sorry for the soldier and their ignorance of the situation.

Campbell seemed to come out of his dazed state, "Then let's get revenge for their deaths then," he reached for a gun, but his fellow soldier kept it away from him.

"None of that," Sgt. Collins pushed him away, "You don't know how much I would love just to pop one in the back of her head," he gritted his teeth, "but we are under strict orders not to kill her unless she makes a move. Is that understood soldier?"

"Who would know!?" Campbell yelled, "We just say that she caused all this shit. Shoot her and we return home as heroes."

"You'll come home to your own execution," Angel knew that his plan was flawed.

So did the sergeant.

"Patience. Patience. She'll make a move," he whisper to the soldier, "When she does… she'll pay for everything she's done…," he gave Angel a glare.

"But!" the soldier started again.

"No another word about it," he order him, "Go walk it off," he shooed him away, "but don't go far… we need a plan to get off this backwater planet… Everybody take five, patch yourselves up and get your gear ready. Corporal," he looked inside the ship, "Let's see if there is anything left to salvage. Russell. Johnson. Keep an eye on our little Angel here."

They gave a quick salute as the sergeant and corporal disappeared into the ship. The others started to look over one another and checking their gear. Angel just leaned up against the ship. No one was going to check her injuries. All well and good. She could handle pain. Campbell was still steaming that he wouldn't be able to avenge his fallen brothers. He glared at Angel one more time before he stomped off towards a line of trees.

It was strange that Angel really had noticed where she was. Yes she had felt the sunlight and the fresh air fill her senses. But it was the first time that she actually looked around at her new surroundings. They were far different from the ones she was used to. Bright greens, vibrant yellows, rich reds, iridescent oranges… even the dull tans and beiges had an astounding brilliance to them.

A jungle… a living, breathing jungle… so free and… natural… it didn't suffocate like the confines of a city… it contained… pure… deep… darkness… something that gave her delight… aroused instincts in her that had gone dormant long ago… it was euphoric…

She smiled as she stared at the lofty trees and thick underbrush. A venerable playground for those that knew how to move through it.

Exciting… Thrilling… Intoxicating…

Movement…, something caught her eye.

It was slight, but it was there. Movement amongst the leaves and underbrush. Nothing was there, but there was still movement. She looked around at the soldiers. They didn't seem to notice anything strange. Their instincts were not as honed as hers were. They wouldn't know if something was out there.

Something was watching them…

"Alright boys," Sgt. Collins climbed out of the torn ship, "Good news. Our weapons and gear survived the crash…," he let out a sigh, "Our communication array is shot. That means we have no way of contacting base."

There was a collective groan among the group.

"I don't want to hear!" the sergeant barked, "We've been in tougher situations and we made it out. We'll make it out of this one. There is still some good equipment in there. Gather it up and we may be able to…"

"AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH!" a scream rang through the air.

They all turned around towards the direction of the scream.

"Campbell!?" Sgt. Collins yelled out.

There was only silence.

"I don't think we're alone…," Angel stared off into the jungle, "Something is out... and it's watching us…"