A/N: You guys didn't think I had forgotten about you, did you? Between some Halloween fun, an increasingly hectic time at the office, and a bunch of other already existing and new projects (more to follow on that in towards the end), I've kind of struggled to carve out time for each thing accordingly. But here we are, at Chapter Four.
Once again, shoutout to LucDragoon for giving this a beta read and directing me with the appropriate changes and edits.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters/settings created by Bungie Studios/343 Industries or Irrational Games/2K Australia, nor do I take credit for the creation of them.
Hummingbirds hovered overhead as the sun shined down on the two weary fugitives. The two crossed underneath a towering archway, and on the other side was a grassy and moss-covered courtyard, with a large metal gate
Buck's machine gun was ready for the first sign of trouble, but his keen eyes hadn't seen any trouble. No sentries, no patrols, no watchtowers… hell, there weren't even any groundskeepers.
Buck thought it was incredibly odd that there was no one to stop him and Booker as he landed on the opposite side of a large gate.
"You'd think Comstock would have every armed man stationed here." Buck dusted off his pants and straightened his jacket and vest.
"But he didn't," Booker bluntly replied. "And there aren't any. So let's be thankful we caught a break for once."
Buck and Booker walked up the steps and passed a statue of an angel with a scroll. While Booker walked past the angelic sculpture, Buck lingered behind to read its inscription.
"The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne," Buck read aloud. "And drown in flame the mountains of Man?" Buck turned back to DeWitt. "What do you think it means?"
"Don't know, don't care," Booker icily replied. "It could be some religious nonsense for all that matters. Let's just find the girl and get out of this place."
Booker made it up the steps and opened a large wooden door, and was greeted with a large statue of an angle in the dead center of the circular room. The statue was identical to the Monument, and the room was littered with debris and fallen lights; whoever was working here, they left in a hurry. Large signs that warned of a restricted area were placed in each corner of the room, but they went ignored by the two wanted men, both looking for this girl Booker was supposed to rescue.
An object in a nearby locker caught Buck's eye, and he reached into it and pulled out what looked to be an audio recording device similar to the ones he saw showcased at the fair. This one was labeled BRADLEY, TY.
"Hey Book," Buck said, bringing over the recorder from the locker. "Get a load of this."
Buck hit the play button, and another man's voice spoke through the recording. "I guess even in a restricted area, these crackers need someone to clean the floors, hm? Those politicians and scientists don't bother 'bout what they say 'round me, because I'm some half-lettered colored boy. But I can tell they scared outta their wits by that think they got locked upstairs, yessir. They got a tiger by the tail, and they don't know whether to hang on… or run."
The recording ended, and Buck gently placed the recorder on the floor. He nervously rocked back and forth on his feet, while Booker gave him an uneasy glance.
"What do you think he meant by 'tiger by the tail'?"
"Fingers crossed it's the girl," said Booker. "And let's hope this guy doesn't know what he's talking about. Let's go."
The duo walked through the door ahead, and sparks flew from nearby machinery in the dimly-lit hallway. On the far side of the hallway was what looked like a growth chart of a woman from birth to age seventeen.
They continued on and entered a large laboratory-like room with a glass display in the center. The display was connected to a large electrical device with hundreds of conduits running throughout the room and all lead into the top of the device.
Buck pulled the lever to the closest display – a novel – and watched as electricity flowed from the conduits into the glass display. To Buck's disappointment, though, all that changed was the color of the book's cover. The duo maneuvered around the large machine, careful not to touch any of the exposed wires and conduits, and continued into the next room.
As the two continued down the dark pathway, Buck took the long silence as an opportunity to study Booker. There were a lot of physical similarities between the two; they shared the same height, age, build, even hair color. They both knew their ways around firearms, and were cool under pressure. Hell, Buck wouldn't have been surprised if they were related by blood they were so similar.
But as far as Buck knew, that's where the similarities ended. He knew nothing about Booker, and Booker didn't look like the kind of person to willingly spill his details.
"So, Booker," Buck casually began. "You from around here?"
"No," Booker coldly replied keeping his attention on the hallway in front of them. "New York City."
"Cool, cool…" Buck rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where the conversation would go. "You got a job or something?"
An awkward, uneasy silence followed, before the two instinctively raised their weapons at a noise coming from the nearby laboratory room. The only living thing that showed itself, though, was a frightened rat that came scurrying out of the sterile-white room. The two moved forward, making sure to not step on the animal.
"So are you gonna give me some information," asked Buck, moving up so that he was right next to Booker. "Or am I gonna have to keep asking you about it?"
"Why do you want to know this about me," Booker asked, tone growing more and more impatient. "What good will it do?"
The two soon entered another large room – even larger than the one they were just in – with a massive piece of machinery dominating the center of the room. The machine was encased in a large glass dome,
"Because I like to know things about the people I work with. We're going to have to trust each other, and I like to build trust by getting to know my partner."
Booker sighed deeply, thinking over Buck's words, before turning back. "Private investigator. I used to work for the Pinkerton Agency, but that was a while ago."
"Pinkertons? The strike breakers?"
"Yeah."
"So that means you were–"
"Yeah," Booker interrupted, as the Booker stopped in front of Buck, looking him dead in the eyes. "I did some things to people I'd rather not talk about right now. Things that still haunt me, no matter what I do to try and make myself forget about them."
The two silently continued to walk down a dark hallway until they came across an elevator on the opposite side of the room.
"Well, at least now I know how you got so good with a gun," Buck joked, heading over to the elevator's entrance.
A dry chuckle was all that Buck could get out of DeWitt, but it was good enough for the ODST. Buck knew he wouldn't break down all of Booker's barriers, but he was chipping away at the big ones. And that was enough to put a tiny smile on Buck's face as the elevator doors closed.
The elevator finally stopped at the highest level, and the two exited into a metallic room, completely different from the classical design of the rest of the interior of the monument.
Booker saw a lever in front of them, and pulled it. The blast doors parted, and behind them was an empty room. Buck saw another hallway and motioned Booker to follow him.
Continuing down the hallway, Buck turned and saw a lit-up display labeled Specimen location next to the door. On the display, the location dressing room was flashing.
"Dressing room," said Buck, pointing at the display. "I bet that's where she is."
"Then let's get going," replied Booker.
The two continued down a dark hallway of scaffolding with nothing but several overhead lights to light the way. The walkway turned into a ramp, and the two walked through another door.
This room was very similar to the first room, except in here there was a seat and camera aimed at the observation window. This room had 'Dressing Room' labeled at the top.
Booker pulled the lever, and the blast doors parted to reveal a woman looking directly at them. She was brushing her raven-black hair, holding what looked to be a photograph in her other hand, and was smiling.
"That's her," said Booker, pulling his picture out of his pocket and glancing back and forth between it and the woman in front of them.
Her black hair greatly contrasted with her pale skin and big blue eyes. Behind her were pictures and paintings of the Eiffel Tower on the walls. Her blue dress and white blouse gave off an air of sophistication and beauty.
"Now what?"
"We keep moving," Booker responded, placing the photo back in his pocket.
The woman left the room, and the curtain closed down. Booker took the lead this time and headed down the hallway. There was another display in front of the door, with 'dining room' flashing. The door automatically opened and the two walked through.
"Do you mind if I ask you something," Booker asked, as they passed under an overhead lamp.
"Sure, go ahead," replied Buck.
"Back when we ran into Comstock, what you said about rabble-rousers and dissidents… what did you mean by that?"
Buck sighed. He knew he would have to explain himself eventually for what he's done, he just didn't know when. But now that was in the situation, he had to be careful not to bring up any old memories about his experiences during the Insurrection.
"About a decade before I was born, there was an uprising movement throughout the colonies against the ruling government. They questioned why they should be ruled by a group of politicians light-years away from them – a pretty valid argument, if you ask me. But talks fell through, and eventually a group of lunatics set off a nuclear bomb in a capital city, killing over two million innocent men and women."
Booker's normally stone-faced demeanor briefly cracked when Buck mentioned the deaths of over two million people. It was a death toll Booker could never imagine happening after just one event. He also didn't understand what 'nuclear' meant, but he figured if that many people died from its use, then it was pretty powerful.
Buck continued. "By the time I joined the ODSTs, the fighting had been going on for over thirty years and had millions of people dead on both sides." Buck felt a rush of emotions bubble up inside him. He grew angrier with each memory reemerging inside him. "What I did… the number of people I killed or put away because they didn't want to be governed by a ruling body on the other side of the galaxy… I hated it."
"But they would've killed you had you not killed them first."
"I understand that, and I hated them for killing not just my friends and squadmates, but the people who just wanted to keep their heads down and stay out of the fighting. It still doesn't change the fact that what I did still haunts me." Buck took a moment to compose himself, bringing his emotions back under control before continuing onward. "It's weird saying this, but thank God the Covenant showed up."
Buck saw a confused look on Booker's face, and put a hand on his shoulder. "That's another story for another time, friend."
Booker shook his head and opened a third door. Much like the rooms before, this one had metal blast doors covering the glass window. Booker threw the switch, the doors parted, and the woman was now standing in a room with many more paintings, sketches and photos of the Eiffel Tower that covered the walls. The most prominent of those paintings was still on an easel; it showed the Tower aglow with the moon overhead lighting up the French city.
The woman gently placed the picture on the nearby desk and turned to the painting. She took a deep breath and placed her hands in the middle of the portrait.
"The hell is she doing," Buck muttered, staring with great interest.
It seemed like air was rushing into the middle of the painting for only a second, before the woman pulled away again. She reached her hands inside the portrait again like pulling back curtains, tore the very fabric of reality apart, revealing a very real Paris street just beyond the Eiffel Tower.
Booker and Buck, the tough-guy soldiers, stood mouths agape and speechless at what they just witnessed. A portal to a modern-looking Paris had just appeared out of thin air, complete with music of the time and Parisian citizens walking past.
"Incredible," Buck whispered, eyes as wide as saucer plates.
"What the hell," Booker, in complete disbelief, asked to no one.
Red and white lights, accompanied by a blaring siren, suddenly appeared in front of her. A fire truck came barreling down the road, siren blaring and lights flashing. The truck must've been only a few feet away before the woman closed the portal. Dust briefly clouded the view screen enough for Buck and Booker to not notice the cracks in the glass.
"Um," said Buck, breaking the silence as the woman quietly left the room. "OK… what the hell did we just see?"
"I don't know," Booker replied, regaining his senses. "But whatever that was, it's got nothing to do with the job at hand."
The two once again followed a walkway down to a scaffolding platform to another observation room. The blast doors opened and revealed a massive room with a large viewing window and walls covered in bookshelves.
On the chair next to the observation window was a Voxophone. Booker picked it up and pressed play. It was the voice of Rosalind, the red-headed woman Buck had encountered in the park and on the way to the Raffle.
"What makes this girl different? I suspect it has less to do with what she is, and more to do with what she is not. A small part of her remains where from where she came. It would seem the universe does not like its peas mixed with its porridge."
Buck didn't know what to make of this audio recording. As the woman walked over to the window and looked longingly out the window, Buck wondered what Rosalind meant by 'peas mixing with porridge'.
Buck, followed by Booker, entered through the door – which quickly closed behind them – and they crept through the eerily silent hallways. The only sounds the duo could hear were the whistling winds outside, the humming of the electricity, and their own footsteps on the wood floor.
The two followed a short corridor until they came across a door in a dark room with a bronze floor. The floor was held up by four chains secured from the ceiling.
Buck, unsure of the sturdiness of the circular floor, tested its weight by placing all his weight down on one foot and stepping on it, slowly bringing his entire body onto the object. Aside from some slight creaking, the object appeared to be able to hold his weight.
Satisfied, Buck waved Booker over and, after Booker tested his own weight on the bronze object, the two continued walking.
Suddenly, Buck heard metal groan, and looked at the chain next to him snap. With another broken chain, the floor gave way and the two fell through the gaping hole.
Buck hit the ground hard, and saw stars as he saw the Pinkerton Agent hanging from a railing by one hand. Buck landed flat on his front-side, making something as simple as taking breaths a chore.
"Uh… hello," said an embarrassed-sounding Booker, hanging precariously from the railing.
A sudden shriek from an unseen woman was the next noise the Marine heard, followed by Booker losing his grip and falling on top of Buck. Booker slammed into Buck's back, and whatever breath he was taking sharply escaped his lungs. The front of Buck's head slammed back into the hard-wood floor, and Buck grew angry.
"Get. Off. Of. Me!" exclaimed Buck, trying to wiggle his way out from underneath Booker.
Before Booker could get off of Buck, the woman leaned over the railing and threw a heavy book at the two of them, hitting Buck directly in his side. The woman, wearing elegant-looking clothing, ran down a set of stairs, throwing another book that flew past DeWitt.
"Would you just stop it," Booker angrily shouted to the woman, blocking another book with his arm. "We're not here to hurt you."
The woman, reaching the bottom of the steps, grabbed book off an impressive pile. She charged at the duo, and brought the book into an attacking position.
"Who are you," asked the woman, the book held like a weapon. She angrily glared at both men, ready to strike.
Buck elbowed Booker hard in the ribs, prompting DeWitt to stand. Buck dusted himself off as he sat up, rubbing his still-sore midsection. The ODST turned his attentions to the angry woman glaring at him, giving her an ocular pat-down.
She was about five-foot six, possibly due to the shoes she was wearing. Her hair was a dark brown, and it was tied in a pony-tail, while her eyes were like big pools of water.
"The name's DeWitt," Booker answered, finally picking himself off of Buck. "This is my associate, Buck." Buck half-hazardly waved, straightening his jacket and vest.
"We're here to help." Booker put his arm on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
"Get away, both of you" she demanded, swinging the heavy-looking book. Booker expertly blocked the strike, and several more before Elizabeth tired herself out.
Elizabeth, clearly out of breath, let the book fall from her hands. She stared at Booker, then at Buck, and brought her hand up to the side of Booker's head.
"Are you real," she asked, amazed at the sight of two people in her room.
"Real enough," Booker plainly replied.
Has she been locked up this whole time, Buck asked himself.
A sharp whistling noise cut through the silence, causing Buck to aim his weapon at the cause of the sudden sound; a golden statue in Comstock's image. Steam was rising from behind it in unison with the whistling, and its eyes were flashing.
The more Buck listened to the whistles, the more it began to form a patriotic tune of some sort. Whatever the tune meant to Elizabeth, it clearly wasn't good.
"You've got to go," said Elizabeth, pushing the two back. A look of horror replaced her curiosity.
"Why," Booker asked, with a slight chuckle as he was pushed back.
Elizabeth scanned back and forth – like she was looking for something – before staring directly into Booker's serious eyes. "You don't want to be here when he gets here!"
"Who's he," asked Buck.
A high-pitched whine was the next noise to surprise everyone. Buck whipped around, machine gun at the ready, looking for where the sound came from.
"Just a minute," Elizabeth shouted, looking up from where Booker and Buck fell from. "I'm getting dressed."
"We've come to get you out of here!"
Elizabeth looked around the room in a panic, searching for somewhere she could possibly hide the two. "There's no way out," she said, still looking around her room. "Trust me, I've looked."
The grinding and whirring of gears, along with more high-pitched whines, not only caused Elizabeth to look more worried, but for Buck to grow more panicked himself. How could he defend himself from something he couldn't see?
"Stop it! You're too impatient, that's enough!"
Booker dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. "How about this?"
"What about it?"
"It's your ticket out of here," said Buck, lowering his machine gun for a moment.
"What are you two…" Elizabeth's voice trailed off as she saw the key in Booker's hand. She snatched the key, twirling it between her fingers as she closely inspected it.
Elizabeth quickly ran over to a large metal door on the opposite side of the room, and gently inserted the key into the slot and twisted it.
As Booker and Buck followed this strange woman to the door, they continued to hear high-pitched noises coming from somewhere above them. They sounded more and more like curious chirps than any kind of alarm.
The door – looking like it was designed more for a bank vault than anything else – hissed as the key unlocked its locks and popped open. Elizabeth struggled to open the door wide enough for her slender frame to fit through, but as she wedged herself through the door, red lights began to flash.
"It's the way out," Elizabeth shouted from down a hallway. The alarms blared, but the only sound the two heard was the incredibly sharp screeching of whatever was making the noises above. The monument forcefully shook, as Booker and Buck took that as their cue to leave.
Sprinting down the stairs, the monument shook again, causing the lights to flicker and pieces of the ceiling to fall. Another thunderous vibration nearly brought a support beam down on Booker, but Buck pushed him out of the way before the large metal beam crushed him.
"What the hell is doing this," asked Buck, keeping his balance after another hit shook the monument.
"It's his job to keep me here," Elizabeth exclaimed, rounding the corner down another hallway.
"We'll see about that," said a confident Booker.
The trio continued to run through the innards of the monument, racing against time as whatever was outside continued to slam and shake the statue.
"Who are you two," asked Elizabeth, narrowly avoiding a falling plank of wood. "And why did you come here?" Another screeching noise followed a violent vibration, causing a few support beams to fall and nearly crush the escapees.
"That doesn't matter right now," shouted Booker.
As the three rounded yet another corner, a more powerful blast knocked Booker and Buck back. Large claw marks cut through the steel walls like a hot knife through butter. The sound of shearing metal was deafening, and Buck thought he caught a quick sight of a monstrous being on the outside.
Booker and Buck got back to their feet and caught back up to Elizabeth before another falling beam crashed through the walkway and split it in two.
"Call the elevator," Booker shouted, shutting the bulkhead behind them as more vibrations sent dust splinters of wood falling on them.
"The what," asked Elizabeth, voice quivering with fear.
Booker grunted. "For the love of… just push the button."
Elizabeth pressed the flashing button, and the ding of an elevator sounded.
Despite his years of military training and physical conditioning, the constant sprinting and evading of falling debris, plus whatever was causing the destruction outside, had worn Buck out. He was getting up there in age, and his exhaustion was showing it.
Booker, meanwhile, wasn't experiencing any exhaustion. Or maybe he was better at hiding it than Buck was. Either way, DeWitt was as stoic as ever, even in the face of certain danger. It was a quality of the man that Buck admired, and one that he had to mirror if he wanted to ensure this woman's feeling of safety in them.
As the rocking continued, Elizabeth turned and finally noticed the windows and seats in the room. She intensely studied the rooms behind the windows, and finally put two and two together.
"They… they were watching me," she disbelievingly asked. She couldn't peel herself away from the observation windows. "All this time?"
She turned back to Booker and Buck. "W-was I some sort of… experiment to them?" Her voice rose to match her growing anger. "Why did they put me in here? What am I? What am I?"
Buck put his hands on her shoulders, calming her down. "You're the girl who's getting out of this tower." His voice was filled with a calming smoothness that appeared to ease her worries, if only for a moment.
A massive metal claw exploded through the elevator door and tore away the frame of the elevator, revealing the head of a massive bird. The bird surprising appearance jolted everyone a few inches off the ground.
The bird was artificial, obvious not just by its size, but by the leather skin and glowing eyes that seemed to burn at Buck and stare directly into his soul. It was making the same screeching noise Buck heard from inside Elizabeth's room, and its titanic claws were grasping at them, trying to take them and do who knows what to them.
Battle instincts kicked in, and Buck shoved Elizabeth behind him as he unloaded the entire clip of his machine gun into the beast. Bullets tore through leather and pinged off the metallic claws, but the creature kept coming. Booker eventually joined in, firing his carbine into the creature, but their combined fire still had no effect. With barrels smoldering and spent shell casings littering the floor, the creature's metallic talons continued to claw at the trio.
Just as it appeared the creature's claws would reach them, the elevator crashed on top of the beast, sending it tumbling below. When the dust settled, all that was left was an empty elevator shaft and a single plank extending to the way across.
"Let's go," Booker shouted, stepping on to the plank and carefully making his way across the deep chasm to the other side.
Buck and Elizabeth followed shortly, and they were quickly up the flight of stairs before the leather bird made a return.
The trio reached the bulkhead at the top floor, as the monument continued to shake back and forth. Elizabeth tried to open the door, but the handle wouldn't budge. Booker took to the handle, while Buck pushed the door open.
Once again, Buck was holding the bulkhead door open as double-digit mile-per-hour winds tore at his skin from atop the tower.
"Where do we go," asked Elizabeth, shouting over the howling winds.
"Up," shouted Booker, pointing to the top of the tower. "We've got to keep climbing!"
Slowly, against the sharp winds atop the tower, the three climbed to the top. As they ascended to the top, a massive silhouette of the bird creature appeared behind the clouds, its piercing cry cutting through the roar of the winds.
At the top of the monument, near the door where Booker and Buck entered before, the trio reached a dead end. As Booker and Elizabeth looked for another exit, Buck looked over the railing below. He saw there were a series of Sky-Lines below.
Judging by the weight of the two, plus factoring in however much Elizabeth weighed, Buck calculated that they could connect to the Sky-Lines and ride them to safety… as long as their arms didn't rip themselves from their sockets upon contact.
"We're going to have to jump," Buck shouted to Elizabeth and Booker, pointing below the railing. "There are some Sky-Lines below us. We should be able to ride them out to a landing point."
Elizabeth's eyes widened as she quickly stepped away from the edge. "Are you crazy? A jump that far is suicide!"
Buck put his Sky-Hook on his arm, and turned back to Elizabeth with a smile. "Feet first into hell, ma'am!"
Before Elizabeth could reply, the monstrous bird reappeared and brushed against the monument, causing the structure to wobble. The three lost their balance, and were sent falling over the edge.
Buck spread his arms and legs apart to slow his descent. The ODST, very familiar with the techniques of free-fall, felt himself decelerate slightly. All he could hear as he fell farther and farther away from the monument was his own steady breathing and the freezing wind passing over him.
Buck looked to his right, and saw a few feet away Booker grab hold of Elizabeth and extended his arm out towards the Sky-Line, successfully connecting him to the metal rail-system. Buck soon found himself riding the same railway, only a few feet behind the two.
Buck looked back, and saw the monument begin to crumble. Giant claw marks covered the exterior, and chunks of the bronze statue began to detach and fall below. The marine saw a large piece of what was the arm crash into a nearby bridge, sending the unknown travelers on it to their certain deaths.
The railway carried them next to the bridge and to what looked like an empty passage, until another piece of the statue collided with the Sky-Line, shattering it into thousands of pieces and sending Booker and Elizabeth falling. The two managed to hold on for a few moments, before separating as they rapidly descended into the ocean below.
Buck made the difficult choice, and dove after Elizabeth. He positioned himself to pick up as much speed as possible to catch up to the woman and catch her before she hit the water.
Come on… come on…
Buck was inching closer, arm stretched as far as it could to grab hold of Elizabeth as the ocean below them grew closer and closer.
Almost… almost…
Elizabeth saw that Buck was now just a foot away, and stretched her hand out for him to catch. Fingers touched, and soon after Buck grabbed onto Elizabeth's forearm and brought her close to his body. Seeing the water rapidly approaching them, Buck turned so that he would hit the water first, shielding Elizabeth from the impact.
The world exploded around him as he impacted the salty water with great enough force to send him and Elizabeth deep into the ocean. A sharp pain entered his back, and he saw stars as Elizabeth tried to break free of his grip. Despite the blinding pain, the ODST managed to swim his way to the surface before either of them ran out of air.
The two made it out of the water just in time, and took deep inhales when they met the air. But before they could relax, the massive bird dove head-first into the water.
"Where's Booker," Buck asked, looking around the endless ocean. "Did you see where Booker landed?"
Elizabeth, tightly clutching around Buck's neck, pointed to where the bird dove into the water.
"No, no," exclaimed Elizabeth, grip around Buck growing ever tighter. "Don't leave!"
"Can you swim?"
She shook her head, and Buck groaned. He looked around for something Elizabeth could hold onto; a rock, a buoy, anything that would float. All that was available, though, were a couple of boards of wood. They would have to do for the moment.
Buck swam over to one of the larger planks and practically forced Elizabeth to grab onto it.
"Stay here," Buck said in a calming tone. "I'll be right back. I promise."
Buck took a deep breath and dove underwater to look for his partner. He saw a school of fish swimming in the distance, before seeing a leather blur shoot out of the water like a rocket from a tube. It had to have been where Booker was.
Buck saw through the murky water Booker's lifeless body floating in the water. He wasn't moving, but it didn't look like the bird creature caused any physical harm to him.
Buck swam over to DeWitt's motionless body, gathered him, and swam up to the surface. The bird was nowhere in sight as Buck breached the surface, lungs gasping for oxygen as he found the plank Elizabeth was still grasping onto with dear life and swam Booker over to it.
Buck placed the unconscious DeWitt on the board and looked for somewhere to swim to… there, out in the distance was a beach. It would be a hell of a swim, but they would have to make it.
Buck turned to a still frightened Elizabeth and pointed to the far away beach. "We have to go there and get him on shore. I know this is asking a lot, but I need you to help me."
"What can I do," she asked, keeping her head above the water.
"Just kick. I'll do the rest."
Buck and Elizabeth began kicking as hard as they can, slowly but steadily pushing the board of wood closer and closer towards the distant shoreline.
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Oh yeah, almost forgot. In the coming weeks, be sure to check in on the Halo/Star Wars crossover section for a new story titled Noble's Eye (title subject to change based on suggestions).