Chapter Fifteen

"Friends? We are far apart. Keep an eye on your maps!"

Wraith had been keeping tabs, but the robot was right. She spoke an affirmative, tugging open the lid of the bin in front of her, casting a disappointed eye across the meagre contents. She needed better gear. She spared a glance at her wrist, the tiny map showing the two healthy markers for her squad. Despite his own warning, Pathfinder was still picking through bins in Pit, and though it wasn't far as the crow could fly, there was very little cover between them if the did meet an ambush.

She followed the concrete, dragging open another bin. A pair of shield canisters. Single cells, but better than nothing and she had space. As she slotted them into her pack and reached for the zip, something in the air breathed a hiccup.

She heard the shots, head whipping up before his call even came through their comms. The ring counter was ticking down, and a foreboding chill struck her gut.

"Got a bad guy! Right in front of me!"

A red blip pinged on her watch.

Wraith started running.

"Guys?"

"I'm on it." she answered, darting in between the tightly packed slum buildings,as their third crackled in her ear.

"Another enemy team is attacking!" Pathfinder's voice relayed, his bright tone now one of concentration, "I'm afraid I am unable to help."

"Stay alive," she answered, scrambling over a low building in favour of losing time racing through it, "We'll route under Artillery to Cascades."

"Roger."

"I'm hit!" Mirage yelled, before cutting himself off with a yelp of pain.

Wraith heard the crack of his shields breaking over comms as she skid along the filthy water puddled under the pipes.

Movement caught her eye and she fired the Scout in her hands without thought, catching the Legend in the shins and sending him scrabbling for cover. She cursed, passing up the fight as she vaulted the high wall, aware that Mirage could have two of them on him.

He was shouting, trash talk or a call-out for her she couldn't really decide. Someone had eyes on her, whispered a Voice, and she slid behind a bin as she raised her rifle. She swept her scope across the path she'd come from, shooting someone down. Confirmation pinged in her ear.

Ping. Team out.

Another team, then. Fuck. He might have a whole team on him. She got back to her feet. Two buildings to go. One. She slung the strap of her sniper over one shoulder and dragged up her Eva-8.

Gunfire, three kinds at least, raged inside. Someone howled, followed by a heavy thump and then-

"Shit-"

Mirage's voice cracked as he cried out too. She reached the door and kicked it open, and she caught the attacker square in the back with two shells, kicking aside the knockdown shield and putting a third in her chest.

Confirmed.

Mirage lay in a pool of blood, and something far in the back of Wraith's head started yelling.

She held the gun steady and barely heard the brief shuffle, swinging for the corner and confirming that kill too.

Ping. Another squad down.

She popped a single shield cell as she crossed the room, sliding on her knees across the garish red staining the floor.

He was entrenched in that close-call panic, eyes wide, hands scrabbling uselessly, frantically, as she reached him. She dragged his pistol from his hand, lest he do her damage in the throes of adrenaline. She pushed one hand onto his chest to hold him as still as she could, hastily dragging an abandoned medkit closer with the other.

Two wounds, which to focus on? Their was a gash across his ribs, bleeding steadily. His left leg, rapidly pooling, needed coagulants and fast.

The artery?

Better make it fast.

He spluttered as she pressed the body of a syringe against his palm.

"Take this for the chest, I'll get the leg." she commanded.

It was as though her voice killed all the activity in the room, and he slumped backwards against the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. That couldn't be a good sign. He stared down at the cylinder with cloudy amber eyes, and Wraith felt her methodical confidence falter as she was washed with a chilling deja vu. Not uncommon, with her link to the Void, but cutting into her like ice when it was this past.

Not again.

"Mirage." she repeated, firm and barked, but he only blinked at her with those hazy eyes. "Fuck. Don't go zoning out on me, take the meds already!"

Mirage's face was draining rapidly of colour and his eyes rolled back just as his head fell against the floor with a dull thud.

You'll have to.
You don't have time.
You have to get out.

She might not make it. He'd need to leave her his Banner if he-

"Change your respawn agreement." she hissed at him suddenly, dragging the syringe from his hand and emptying it brusquely into the broken skin near the chest wound before discarding it, dropping back on her haunches to increase the pressure on his bleeding leg.

Mirage groaned loudly, leg twitching weakly away from her. She dragged it back and held it firm, wet hand rummaging in the open plastic box.

"Change it." she whispered furiously, stemming the bleeding clumsily with her left hand and grasping with uncooperative fingers for another syringe.

Get out.

The medkit knocked further from them, her haste almost emptying it everywhere, and she cursed as she lost precious seconds scrabbling for it. The ring was sizzling and hissing as it neared, and the only thing she could hear over it was the rush of her own blood as she hastened to knot one clumsy bandage and wind another.

You need to get out now, with or without him.

It was far too early to drop to two.

"Mirage!" she hollered, and that seemed to jolt him awake, rising weakly to one elbow, swaying like a drunk, "Change it now!"

Wraith!

Mirage didn't answer her, the pain on his face twisting his features as he ground his teeth hard together.

"I mean it!" she spat, trying hard to keep her voice low, suspicious of any camera that might have them in view right then, unable to concentrate on any one thing with the screaming in her head.

Get out!
It's coming!
The Ring is on you!

She didn't need anyone having this, didn't need them knowing she had this weakness, that he had crippled her with this unfamiliar panic. She couldn't think straight, couldn't decide why she cared and it was not important right now. The ring was right outside. She had to get him up. They had to go.

The next ring, Wraith!
Too far!
Get out!

Pathfinder was yelling over comms but she didn't have time to decipher the words.

"Mirage!"

He fumbled with a pocket on his combats, dragging out the PDA he'd been assigned, the piece of tech that held his banner, all his stats. He pressed his thumb down hard on the screen as he cried out against the pain of her dealing with his wound.

You're losing too much time!

There was so much blood everywhere. Wraith's nose was choked with the smell of it. Her clothes were slippery with it. Her skin tightened, and buzzed as she worked. Anticipation of agony. She knew it was right, and she hated it. But it was all she had.

It's here!

The ring ate through the wall. It was now, had to be now. If it hit him she'd lose him, no amount of meds would stem that chunk of damage fast enough.

Not again.
Get out.
Get out NOW!

"Mirage-" cracked and dry.

His head dropped back and he looked at her with hooded, unreadable eyes.

"I did it, I did it."

Wraith pulled the last knot tight as the heat of the ring boiled the air near her back. Three feet, two. Inches away.

Too late!

Wraith gathered him into her arms and dropped into the Void.