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--
Dreaming, Sam grew restless in her sleep. The nightmare of her father caused her to jump out of from the tense slumber.
Fresh tears started to form. The memory of her family's demise still twisted her stomach. She remembered the attack, the flames . . . the dead. These images were new and terrifying. Feeling alone, she curled up atop the mattress.
Mattress?
Looking around at the surroundings, she realized that she was in a small bedroom. The bed in which she was sleeping on was dirty grey, but still provided comfort. The wood panel floor was covered in leaves and mud, indicating that this place had not been used in a while. Next to where she lay was a nightstand.
Atop the wooden table was a gun.
Sam gripped the weapon and pulled it close. It had a black handle and tip, but the barrel was made of silver metal, standard pistol for any rebel. She had been trained in using firearms since she was seven, for protection reasons.
As if by nature, she slid the magazine out, making sure it was loaded with rounds. A snarl echoed through her brain. Whoever caused all this was going to be dead. She shoved the clip back into the slot, making a resounding clack Soon, they would pay.
Behind the bedroom door, Sam could hear kitchen cabinets banging.
Her heart jumped. Maybe sooner than I thought.
She moved towards the door silently, keeping the gun pointed ahead of her. Grasping the doorknob, she pushed the door, using her training to check each corner of the next room. It was a long hallway lined with wooden doors.
Sam tip-toed out, keeping her eyes moving. The noises came from the other end of the hall, at the right side. Stealthily, Sam closed the distance. A big archway lead into an unknown room. She quickly peeked around the corner, only noticing a big, round table. The source of the noise was on the other side of the wall where she could not see. She would have to move out into the open.
Sam held the gun from her face. Taking a deep breath, she moved in. She quickly assessed the new room. It was lined with dozens of cabinets, along with a sink and an old dishwasher. But, the second stranger in the room was cause for concern. About to squeeze the trigger, she caught herself.
Although his back was turned to her, Sam recognized the man as Nathan Forest. He turned and finally noticed her. His eyes grew worried as soon as the gun was apparent. Ignoring the weapon, Nate looked into her eyes.
"Hi."
Sam was stunned. "Hi."
An awkward silence lasted only moments.
"What are you doing here?", Sam asked surprised.
"Um," he thought, realizing that she didn't remember the last few hours of their escape. "Well, I carried you from the base. We went into the woods."
She stood silent, waiting for more.
"And then, I found this house," Nate continued. "And . . . here we are."
Sam's lips formed an "oh", but the word didn't come out. She relaxed the gun, allowing Nate to relax. But, her face was still filled with hurt and confusion. Looking past his frame, she spotted a SMG and a walki-talkie sitting on the counter.
"Were did you get the walkie and the guns?"
Nate didn't answer. His head dropped after he nodded towards the nearest window. Perplexed, Sam walked up to the glass. Her eyes widened as she brought her hand to her mouth. Outside, rebel corpses were strewn across the front yard. Flames from destroyed Lambda vehicles licked at the sky. The ground was no longer green, but red.
Sam heaved what was left in her stomach. Nathan moved over and guided her to one of the chairs circling the table. Her breaths rasped for air. Tears reappeared.
"Oh, God," She breathed. "What happened?"
The question wasn't directed at anyone, but Nate took his place on the other side of the table, willing to give the best answer.
"I don't know." He chose his words carefully. "But, whoever did this, they have managed to hit us where it hurts."
The woman sitting across from him shook with sobs. He tried to think of something encouraging, but drew blank. She had lost someone dear to her. Even her friends and relatives were dead.
The thought brought his own tears. He had lost love ones as well. Memories of his mother flooded through his brain.
Both survivors of the Green Base attack broke down at that table.
Nathan was the first to break the emotions.
"Do you want something to eat?"
Sam then realized how starving she was and whispered her approval. Nathan rose from his chair and pulled one of the cabinets open. Out of the shelves, he produced a blue and yellow can, in which he cut open with a rebel hunting knife. He gave the can to the young woman.
Sam studied the crème colored fruit inside. Although hating pears with a passion, she swallowed the whole can in just a few bites. Nathan joined her, carrying his own food of canned peaches.
Suddenly, Sam gasped. "Mom!"
She jumped out of her chair, cupping her face in her gloved hands. "Oh, no! Where is she?!"
Nathan was by her side instantly. Before she could run from the house, he grasped her arms, holing her firm.
"Samantha . . ."
"We have to go find her!"
"Samantha!" he called her name louder, finally catching her attention.
"I was listening to the radio this morning," He tried to collect the words. "Those things captured her."
Sam's eyes grew large and venerable. But, now there was hope.
"That means she is still alive!", the optimistic tone almost lifted Nate's spirits.
Her face grew serious for a moment, as if in deep thought, but turned into fury a moment later. She muttered something under her breath.
"What?" Nate inquired.
Dark eyes now met his. "We have to go get her."
Now, it was Nathan's turn to be dumbfounded. Without saying anything, Sam slipped from his grasp and grabbed the pistol off of the table.
"Sam!", he tried to reason. "We don't even know where she is."
Ignoring the quip, she moved out into the gore filled yard, Nate close on her heels.
"We need to know what we are facing!", he called, still failing to convince.
Sam knelt down on the grass and proceeded to slip a holster belt off of a dead rebel. Whipping the belt around her thighs, she holstered her weapon. Turning to meet his gaze, her face softened.
"I cant make you understand, but, I need to find my mother. There is no way that I'm going to stand here when the woman who raised me is in danger. And I am going to find her. You're a doctor. You belong here. There are wounded back at the base. They need you."
Silence followed, leaving dead space within their own presence.
With that, Sam walked towards the woods, not knowing if she was going the right way.
A quick clack sound emitted behind her. She spun to find Nate checking a SMG's clip. He slipped the magazine into it's proper place and pushed the bolt back into place. Slinging the gun around his shoulders, he began to walk past her.
"Where are you going?!" Sam called, confused. Nate turned, his face like stone.
He moved in, mere inches away from her face. "You are not going out there alone. You'll be dead before you even get to a road. Now, I'm going, whether you like it or not."
Sam didn't relize that her jaw fell. She was kinda taken back by this strange doctor. Her face grew serious again.
"Can you use a gun?"
Nate's head cocked to the side, annoyed. "Sam, you know that I went through the same combat training you have."
She simply nodded. "Okay. What do we do next?"
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Okay. This was a short one. I'm sorry. No action. But, there are going to be a few chapters like this, kinda helping with the plot. The next one will be a little more exciting, but not a whole lot of action. :) More on the way!