Boss
Around a week had passed since Gordez and the others left. Since then, I'd been practically left alone with an injured Jadoh and a Zadok and Kosah who now, for the most part, almost considered themselves captives aboard their own ship.
Despite this, however, it almost felt as though things were reaching a state of normal. All except for one major detail. I missed Gordez.
It'd been different when he had merely been a hop, skip, and a jump away at the Patriot, only a short walk away from the Separatist camp, but now, with him on the other side of the Nip entirely, we were worlds apart, myself not knowing if he was alive and well, dead on the side of the road, perhaps even catching the eye of somebody else…No. I was smart enough to know how stupid the incessant worrying was. I hadn't worried about him this way back in Ba Sing Se, which had been a literal war zone, so I figured there was no point worrying now. Though I figured on small part, in Ba Sing Se, death had been right around the corner at all times anyway, but at the very least, we'd stuck by each other, whereas now, we were miles-No. Stop. Focus.
There were more pressing things to focus on than letting my stomach tie itself in a knot being worried about something I couldn't control. And there was more than enough to focus on.
It was as though, in the very moment after Lei'fo had been learned to have betrayed us, I had gone from being public enemy number one to a messiah of sorts for the Separatists. All of a sudden, what had been the "blind hatred" we'd felt towards Lei'fo was now an "omniscient knowing" that we had possessed, always knowing he was trouble, as though we suspected he was a traitor from the beginning.
I still had trouble knowing what it had all been about. I still had trouble believing he had been working for the Fire Nation, but what other reason would there had been for killing Fennick, the prisoner? He was not far off from a psychopath after all. Way Luke told it, he was ready to cut down a dozen innocent civilians, including children. Was it such a far cry to say he may have just killed Fennick for the hell of it? Decided to let that be the beginning of his little killing streak until he took his shot at Pho and Jadoh? Why Pho? Pho had been his friend. I could understand Jadoh, being one of my men, but why not me? Perhaps he had meant to but simply couldn't find me in time before he decided that sticking around any longer would be suicide. Or maybe it had been some Fire Nation operation? It was impossible to know. I still had my doubts. Separatists had come to some unanimous agreement it had been the Fire Nation at fault, but I couldn't help but think that was just their way of assuring themselves that it wasn't due to the mere sadism of a man, well, kid they'd called 'friend' just days before.
It was a shame about those who'd died: Fennick, Pho, almost Jadoh. I'd been liking Pho. Stood by Luke and what was right instead of his old friend who was hellbent on slaughtering the innocent, had my back when Lei'fo came back, and now he was dead. Jadoh, I'd been scared out of my mind when I learned what happened, horrified by the thought of losing somebody, but he'd been managing to pull through. I'd visit him alter today when I had the chance.
For now, I was at The Patriot. Separatists had settled themselves in quite nicely. I'd barely been managing to keep the Separatists out of the rooms belonging to my crew, but Jet was, for the most part, being cooperative with my wishes. Despite his age, it was clear enough that he had the respect of those around him. For whatever reason, I couldn't tell. I hadn't seen him fight, hadn't seen him in battle, had had no taste of just what it was that made him somebody that those around him respected and were willing to listen to at a moment's notice.
Jet had, when I wasn't around, been keeping things in line when it came to the Patriot. He'd helped camouflaged the ship, keep it better hidden to ensure that an overly attentive Fire Nation patrol didn't spot us amidst the fauna, taken full inventory, arranged for housing for the Separatists kept onboard, even attempted in getting the ship back to working order, though with much frustration.
"Feels like it's falling apart more and more every day!" He's exclaimed to me with quite a degree of exasperation.
"It's a tough ship," I'd said, trying to ease his mind. "Was badly beat up when it came in. We'll get it working."
"We need your man back, Gordez." My heart jumped into my mouth when he said, 'your man' only for him to, much to my relief, clarify what he'd meant in saying, "He's your second in command, right?"
Thank the spirits. "Guess you could say that. Helps keep things in order. Ship especially."
"So I can tell. Without him here, whole thing feels liable to fall apart at any minute. The other kids, Kodah and Zasok or something-?"
"Zadok and Kosah?"
"Yeah, them. They're doing an alright job, but they're just barely managing to keep this ship from blowing up around us. Definitely need Gordez back."
"Won't disagree with you there."
He nodded, leaving to rise back to the command deck while I left in the opposite direction, heading down the stairway to the engine room, passing by a number of Separatists going about their tasks as I did so. Ship felt like it had a new life to it. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it felt as though the vessel were truly a living, breathing being once again, closer to what it had once been as a pride of the Fire Navy rather than the shadow it'd been with me and the others. On the other, it was occupied by the exact type of people I'd sworn to fight-radicals willing to do anything for victory. Despite that label I'd given them, however, a part of me couldn't help but draw closer to them. They were only just kids. The more time I spent with them, the more I began to see what I believed Kiu saw in them-misguided souls stuck with a bad lot in this world, hatred and bloodlust where joy and family should have been, this war having taken it all away, these children destined to get themselves killed if it hadn't been for somebody like Kiu to keep them together. I felt as though as the time went by, I found myself respecting him all the more for what he was doing here, yet still, there was a long way to go.
I took the stairway down into the lower bowels of the ship. Jet was right. This ship was nowhere near to operating how it would be with Gordez present, but that wasn't all at play. I had a theory of my own that needed some verifying. As much as I knew Gordez to be the Master of Engineering that he was, I couldn't help but believe there was more at play.
I found Zadok and Kosah eating with one another away from the others in the mess. I regretted interrupting them during their lunch break, but figured it was the only reasonable time to do so. "Mind if I speak to you two for a minute?"
They joined me readily enough, following as I led them away from the mess into the deeper tunnels of the ship, my eyes never shifting around me to ensure we were alone.
"Ship's having some troubles then, huh?"
"Definitely not going anywhere anytime soon," Zadok responded, a hint of almost satisfaction in his voice.
I'd been prepared to let them talk themselves out more, let me catch them in a lie, but clearly, Kosah had no intention of letting me figure it out for myself. "Just some misplaced fuses, some disconnected pipeworks, and all of a sudden, ship's an empty husk."
It was no surprise. No part of me didn't understand what they were doing. I'd been considering it myself. No part of me wanted this ship falling into Separatists hands. Reason A being I feared what purposes they'd used the ship for, Reason B being that I feared what Gordez would do to me if he found out.
Zadok nudged his counterpart in the side, the response of his victim being, "What? Thought we agreed we'd tell him?"
"More gradually though, duh." Zadok turned back to me. "Couldn't just let them take the ship, sir."
"I know you couldn't," I responded with. I truly did know. "We don't know enough about them, what they're up to, what they'd do with this,-"
"I told you he'd agree with it," Kosah snorted to his friend.
"But you need to be careful. Jet is already blaming you for not being able to do a thing to keep the ship functional. Only a matter of time until he assumes foul play. I know what you're doing, but you need to play it safe. We just barely got some semblance of trust back from them. We can't blow it. Not like this."
"So what do you want us doing?"
"Keep the ship, running, but not too much, you get me? Get things working, maybe save the engine, just, whatever you do, be smart. I trust you to know what to do, but if it comes between the Separatists taking this ship and you two losing your lives, I'd rather them take the ship. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Boss," they replied in unison.
They were good kids.
Maybe too good for their own good. They were patriots. They cared about their Nation. As did I. At least, as I thought I did. The more this war went by, the more I found myself fighting beside those I never thought I would, the grayer everything became. Maybe it was for the best, let me see this war for what it really was—evil on both sides, no one Nation in the right, both possessing their virtues and vices. The war I'd fought for, fighting for Nations, that was over for me. When the Siege of Ba Sing Se ended, it became something different—it became a war of good versus evil, right versus wrong.
I was on the path back to the camp. The conditions of Summer were starting to seep in. It still startled me how Winter had felt not long ago at all, last Summer somehow feeling even sooner. Just a little under a year ago, we'd still been at Ba Sing Se, the siege going in our favor, the war looking as though it were on the verge of finally being over. Of course, it hadn't, and here we were, a year later, still fighting it.
Blue skies stretched overhead, shadowed only by the canopy of trees growing in height and breadth as I made my way deeper into the forest. Nowhere was it quiet as I walked along, be it the tweeting of birds, the rustling of branches in the wind, the chirps of insects crawling across the forest floor, all noises coming together to provide an ambience that could only belong in a place like this so far out from any semblance of civilization. I'd always been afraid of the forest as a kid. Looking to all sides of me, not knowing what lay ahead, everything shrouded in the shadows of the forest, unable to discern if some cruel-eyed predator was simply waiting for me to turn my back on it for it to strike. I loved the sea, however, being able to look to every side of me, my vision going on for miles and miles until the point that the curvature of the Earth prevented me from looking any further.
When I thought of the Navy, I tried only to remember the days before my stint with the Raiders. Tried only to think back on simpler times.
It was the sound of hooves that broke the monotony of the clamor of the forest, prompting me to raise my guard, only lowering it when I recognized the figure atop the ostrich horse as it approach-A separatists-and upon closer inspection-Geshen.
"Geshen," I said, greeting him as he brought his mount to a stop, myself having expected him to simply race right past me towards The Patriot, myself only now realizing I was his intended destination. "Something the matter?"
"Water Tribe leader just got to camp. Kiu wants you there for the meeting."
"Well, don't worry. I'm already headed back."
"That's good to hear," Geshen said, already unmounting from his beast. "Should probably take my ride though. Said he doesn't want to start without you."
"That important, eh?" I asked as I reluctantly took the reins of the beast from him. "How're you going to get back?"
"I can walk. No worries, but Kiu wants you there ASAP."
"Understood," I replied, one foot already in the stirrup as I rose onto the ostrich horse, myself still surprised by the action that, just over a week ago, would have been considered insanity-a Separatist handing the reigns over to me or one of my people.
Notwithstanding, I settled onto the unnamed horse's back, ourselves not having yet dubbed it something since stealing it from a Fire Nation patrol-the work of Jet and Kai, the two seemingly thick as thieves.
I kicked the animal into motion, myself clearly being wanted back at camp with all due haste.
They were already gathered in Kiu's "war room" when I reached it, the rustic yet functioning addition to the camp that it was. Kiu had considered relocating to The Patriot but ultimately had decided against it, figuring with so many things already happened, the least he could do was offer some 'continuity' in terms of where the Separatists were getting their orders from.
The guards at the door closed the door behind me before I could do so myself, my attention rather, at the clearing of Kiu's throat, being directed towards the empty seat in the room at his right side across the table from, likewise, 2 Water Tribesmen.
"Boss," Kiu started. "This is Chief Karnook and his second in command, Torvak. I rose from my seat, and they did likewise as, from across the table, we clasped onto one another's arms, shaking hands in a sense as per Water Tribal tradition-something I'd learned the hard way. They appeared surprised by my understanding of their cultural norms but made no comment on it as we all sat back down. "Chief Karnook, Torvak, this is Boss, my second in command." Second in command?
My head towards Kiu, attempting not to register any of the confusion going through me, but he didn't turn his head to meet my gaze, instead remaining focused on the topic at hand.
"May we start from the top then?" Boss asked, clearly referring to my arrival, apparently wanting to keep me informed.
Karnook nodded. "Of course. As I was saying, we encountered your men in the Foggy Bottom Swamp. A patrol of my men, on edge after a recent Fire Nation excursion, attacked. 2 of my men were killed and numerous more injured."
My hand tensed beneath the table, noticing how he only mentioned his own casualties. "Did any of our men suffer casualties as well?"
"Your commander already asked that question. No. Your men suffered no casualties."
I attempted not to reveal just how relieved that news had rendered me, the news of his own men's' death still hanging in the air, creating an apparent tension. Kiu briefly turned his head to face me, likely having observed the very thing I was trying to hide, but nonetheless turned back to his guests. "We apologize for the deaths of your men."
"We apologize as well. My own men failed to follow protocol and ask for a callsign, but tensions are high among my men. The families of the dead are calling for blood. We're not asking you to give up your own men, don't worry. I can soothe things among my people, and I'll ask that you refrain from allowing news of this 'complication' to spread. The last thing we need is distrust between our two groups."
"I'm prone to agree," Kiu responded. "The sooner we can move past this and begin pooling our strength, the better."
"Which brings us to the main purpose of our coming here. The man in charge of the group you sent, "Gordez" I believe his name was, he told us of your intent for us to begin focusing efforts against the Fire Nation. Before we agree to this, however, we need to know what exactly your plans are for this region."
Kiu nodded, an understanding smile on his aged and weathered face, this seemingly a question he was no doubt used to from his years of staging guerilla warfare and likely being deemed "terrorist" by no shortage of people. "We are working in collaboration with regional Earth Kingdom authorities south of the Nip Sea. Our intention is to assist regional Earth Kingdom forces in driving out the Fire Nation from this region, allowing for Earth Kingdom authorities to regain control."
"You have no intention of occupying territory?"
"We don't have the manpower to do so. We number only in the hundreds. Doing so would stretch ourselves too thin."
Karnook nodded. "Despite us hiding in that swamp for a better part of a few decades, news still does reach us. We've heard talk of your "Nip Sea Separatists." Talk that your methods verge closer to the lines of terrorism rather than freedom fighting."
"You can ask thousands of people draw the line in the sand between terrorism and freedom fighting and you'll never receive the same answer twice. I will not deny that my men's guerilla combat-attacking outposts, robbing civilians, ambushing caravans-it falls well within the parameters of the Fire Nation's assessment of what terrorism is, at least, when committed against them."
Karnook chuckled, clearly not disagreeing.
"However, my men do not deliberately attack civilian targets. Not on my orders. There have been incidents in the past of those who have overstepped their bounds and targeted civilians, but I have done what I could and am still doing what I can to suppress this."
"Controlling one's desire for revenge is no easy task," Karnook said, nodding. "I myself have been put in that position on more than one occasion." Karnook rested his elbows on the table, raising his hands to the lower half of his face as he continued, saying, "I suppose it's only fair that we reveal our intentions as well. My Revanchist Tribe wishes for control of the Foggy Bottom Swamp with access to the coast to allow for trade and other opportunities."
"You wish to create a new state within Earth Kingdom territory?"
"The state was always here. The swampbenders were here even before my tribe was, but we've agreed to work together. Earth Kingdom authority has always been touchy at best in the swamp, the desert even less. We're practically already an independent nation."
"I won't disagree with you there, but I'm not sure if it's me you'll be wanting to talk about this. Asking for official recognition of your sovereignty is nothing I'm in control of."
"No, but I'm merely putting all cards on the table, telling you what our intentions are. We wish to drive the Fire Nation out and assist the Earth Kingdom in winning this war, but for our help, we intend on asking the Earth King for recognition."
"Very well. You'll get no argument from me, so long as the Fire Nation is driven out."
"And that brings us to the real issue at hand. Just how we plan on going about evicting the Fire Nation."
Kiu nodded in acknowledgment, his face turning to the map on the table between us and the tribesmen, unrolling the curled edges and weighing them down with items scattered across the table to allow a full view of the map, multiple locations marked or pinned. "Fire Nation occupying the North, Earth Kingdom occupying the South. We are here, as I'm sure you know," Kiu said, pointing towards a small position near the North coast. "Dead set in the middle of Fire Nation territory. Before, we had the benefit of having open contact with Earth Kingdom forces before the blockade and regular patrols started. Now, we've been cut off for months now."
"Hence sending your men to re-establish contact."
Kiu nodded. "Going through the swamp was our only chance of that. Back when Earth Kingdom owned the valley between the swamp and the mountains, we'd rely on that, bit ever since the Fire Nation took the valley, that route's been moot."
"Yeah, we heard about that. We'd use it as well. Had good relations with the Earth Kingdom troops guarding it. Pulled out almost a year ago to help push back the Firebenders at Ba Sing Se. Heard it was a massacre. Most of the men they found were soldiers turned bandits and outlaws. Lots of casualties. Got what they deserved."
It was all news to me. After leaving, I'd heard little of what became of The Dragon's Host. Guess I was learning now.
"Fire Nation took the opportunity to take the valley. Haven't moved men en masse through it yet but have sent raiding parties in lieu of that. I asked your men to check on the town Heigou. Sent a report two days ago saying the town had been torched by the Rough Rhinos. Very few survivors."
Of course it's the Rough Rhinos. Whenever the Fire Nation has dirty work that needs doing, it's either the Raiders, the Rhinos, or one of their other mercenary bands or "rogue" units, all of it bullshit I'd come to realize.
"We know where our guys are now?" I asked, curious to know if they'd moved on.
"Didn't tell us anything. Mentioned there were some people attempting to help the wounded. May have stuck around to lend a hand or simply'd have moved on. You'd know better than I would."
I nodded. And knowing them as I do, they're still there. Doing the right thing.
He continued, speaking to Kiu now when he asked, "So you gave them orders to head to the coastal Earth Kingdom towns and establish contact?"
"That's correct."
"What do you hope to gain beyond giving them a simple update that you're still alive. You're not going to re-establish timely communication. Fire Nation still controls the water. Obviously, you know this, or you'd have sent them swimming across with wetsuits rather than through our swamp with arms and armor."
"We're hoping to create an organized response to the Fire Nation presence in the Nip, contest that territory rather than let it sit comfortably in their hands."
"And you think your band, good fighters though they may be, are going to convince the Earth Kingdom to launch an offensive like this?" He chuckled. "I applaud you for having faith in your men, but if the Earth Kingdom had the means of contesting the Nip, they'd have done so already."
"But they lacked something that they now possess?"
"What's that? A few hundred Separatists hiding in trees?"
"No," Kiu said, ignoring the snide remark. "You."
Karnook said nothing for a while until an understanding smile came to his face. "Of course."
"Earth Kingdom could never stand a fight against the Fire Navy, but waterbenders like you, you could make all the difference between life and death."
I decided now was an appropriate time for me to chime he. "He's right. We know what you're capable of. I've seen teams of waterbenders no more than 5 band together to disable fully-operation Fire Navy vessels in less than a minute. With stealth, speed, and natural ability, you are everything the Fire Nation need fear. Why do you think they've been trying to wipe out your kind for the last few decades?"
"Believe me," Karnook said, his voice going grim. "I don't need to be reminded. We attempted to work with the Earth Kingdom before, but, then again, their presence here hadn't been quite so fragile last we'd offered our services. Perhaps humiliation will have taught them a thing or two about humility."
"They will take your help," Kiu reassured him. "And even if they won't, you, me, we'll offer it anyway. Whatever it takes to remove the Fire Nation from our homes."
"Hmm," Karnook mumbled, a slow determined look rising on his face. "Whatever it takes, then."
And two hands from opposite sides of the table met in the middle of the map, right above to Nip, to meet in unification of an alliance that now might just have what it takes to really make a difference here. I was unable to contain the slight smile that rose to my face. I knew that a part of me should have been grimacing at the forging of a bond designed to combat my home country, but something about this, about people fighting for what was right, for their homes, it was inspirational. This was what it was about. This was what I had sworn to fight for when I left the Fire Nation. And now, that was precisely what I was doing. I wasn't fighting for one nation or another. I was fighting for people. At long last.
Karnook and Torvak left later that evening after they had spent the afternoon and evening in our company, enjoying a small informal celebration in the name of the pact formed today. It still felt surreal to me to me now greeted with open arms for the Separatists, myself now considered 'one of them.' I couldn't lie. Something about it was nice, no longer needing to have eyes at the back of my head, worried that somebody would decide to take matters of "protecting the flock" into their own hands.
Notwithstanding, I managed to sneak away from the celebrations early, smuggling away with me a tray of hand foods I managed to scrounge up as well as some wine, the camp infirmary being my target. None of the "medics," if one could even call them that, were present. Likely celebrating as well. All the better. His wounds weren't bad enough anymore that he needed constant attention anyway. I wanted to think he'd be fine.
Sure enough, Jadoh was sat propped up in his cot, arms still heavily bandaged, but for the most part, possessing more life to him than he'd had yesterday.
I balanced the tray of party goods in one hand, giving the wooden wall of his room a small tap to get his attention, asking for permission to enter before abruptly barging in.
His attention shot towards me, dropping the book I hadn't seen that he was delicately attempting to hold between his recovering hands.
"Shit," he mumbled to himself. "Uh, Boss, hey, come in."
I couldn't help but let a small smile rise to my face as I approached, setting down the tray on his side table as I helped him recover his reading material, myself scanning just what it was before returning it to him. Erotica of the Spirit World: When Worlds Collide: Volume 3. A small chuckle escaped from my lips as I handed it back to him saying, "Getting some light reading in, I see?"
"Shut up," he groaned, no malice in the words, simply wishing to avoid the embarrassment of judgement.
"You and Luke ought to start a book club. Not sure if this really qualifies as a 'book' however."
"Hey! It's words! And some…images…too."
"Of course," I mused. "I take it this isn't from Kiu's personal collection?"
Jadoh scoffed. "Kai's."
I figured as much. He seemed the type. I turned my attention the tray by his side, saying, "Brought you some stuff from the party."
"Hmm. Enjoying themselves out there?"
"Seems that way."
"Everything go well with the waterbenders then?"
"Sorry," I said, attempting to put on a straight face, but failing to maintain it as I overdramatically stayed, "That's confidential."
"Oh, shut up," he smiled. "So went well, then?"
"Seems so. Looks like things will be getting louder around here in the days to come."
"Hmm. Anybody say when I'll be getting out of here?"
I shook my head. "Haven't told me anything. Was a nasty cut Lei'fo gave you, but they at least did say you're recovering well. I'd say another week. At most."
"Damn. My bow skills are gonna get rusty."
"Well…they were never that good to begin with."
"Screw off," he grinned. I smiled in a return. Jadoh was a far cry from what he'd been when we first found him. No longer the arrogant shitstain he was when we first found him, thinking himself at the top of the world. Now, actually somebody who understood that the world didn't revolve around him, that he didn't possess some birthright to be the best and the baddest of all those around him. Now, actually somebody I was happy to call a friend. "Ooh. Got me some wine too. How generous. So I'm off probation?"
"Bright side of you being hospitalized, at least I don't need to worry about you getting up to order another round."
"Of you know me. Raava save whoever or whatever tries to get between me and a good time."
"Speaking of 'good time,' I'll give you some alone time with that light reading of yours."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "You do that."
I smiled as I turned to leave the room, only being bid to return by him yelling "Close the door!" which I, in accordance, appropriately did.
I wanted to think at least some of the craze of the party would have died by now. My hopes ended up being wasted as the festivities seemed to be in full swing now, even stronger than when I'd left. Damnit. Jadoh would love this. I attempted to backstep away, working my way onto another platform, but my presence did not go unnoticed. I was being reeled in by two Separatists-Tao and Gilan, who, at least from what I was able to discern from their drunken mumbling, were planning on having me do a keg stand, or, perhaps watch them attempt a keg stand?
Whatever it was they had in mind, I was fortunate enough to be rescued at the last minute by Kiu who put his hands on the two shoulders of the men escorting me, nudging them away, their grips loosening from me, seemingly unaware that I was no longer trailing behind them.
"Think they'll get lonely?" I joked as Kiu led me away from the raucous activities of the camp.
"You assume they'll notice."
"Fair point."
We were further away from the party now, shrouded in an unlit segment of the camp, the torchlight dying down, nobody conscious or sober enough to have relit them.
"They certainly seem to be enjoying themselves," I commented.
"Hmm. Perhaps a bit too much."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry. They'll sober up come tomorrow. They know what's ahead."
"That's precisely what worries me. Forget what you saw back in the command room, we're not ready."
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean." I did. "We're going to war. We're low on weapons, supplies, and sure, these can be remedied when things with the Earth Kingdom is fixed, but the one thing that can't be fixed is our men. They're children. They're untrained. They know how to rob, to ambush, to fight form the shadows, but they're not ready for war."
"Nobody's ever really ready for war," I commented, but even as I said it, I knew that was an answer that would accomplish nothing.
"But I can't just lead my men into a fight they're not ready for. They're loyal, sure, ready to fight to the last breath, but they're undisciplined. They have no sense of order, how to take orders, how to work as a fighting force rather than just friends." He was nervous. Scared almost. My thoughts went back to what he'd called me back during the meeting-his "second in command." I was the only person he was telling about this. But why me?
"Kiu," I said, trying to do what I could do to reassure him. "They will be ready. They'll learn. They always do." I'd seen it more than enough times already. I saw how quickly people changed on the battlefield, but even then, something was indeed missing, The discipline, the order, the training. He beat me to it before I could bring it up.
"But they're untrained. They know about survival, but nothing of warfare. They'll die out there."
I was silent for a moment, wondering just what this was. Was this the prelude of an order, or just him breaking down in front of me? But why me? "Kiu," I started. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because. I want you to train my men. My kids."
"Train them? I-"
"Don't. Don't say something about why you're a bad fit. I've seen the way you train your men. The way they operate, and I know there's more to you than a simple mercenary, but that doesn't matter. You know what war is. I can see that in your eyes. The same eyes I have. The difference between us, you're still in a position to teach what I'm afraid I'm no longer able to. I want you to give my men the tools they need to survive, to fight, to win."
And this was it. This was why. Maybe he didn't know who I was, or hell, maybe he did, but right now, I don't think it mattered. This wasn't about any one Nation. This was about those he had sworn to protect. This was about giving them a chance, and I was that chance. So that's why I was here still, to protect, to serve. It seemed like the more time that went by, the clearer everything became. To protect and serve. The oath I took when I graduated the Fire Nation Military Academy. And finally, that was exactly what I was doing. "Okay," I said. "I'll train our men."
Our men.
Luke
I set the body down among the others. This one lifeless. As had been the last many we'd collected from the ruined town. Almost a week had passed since we'd arrived. It was hard to pin it down to just what exact moment it'd been when the bodies we began collecting were no longer breathing.
The first day had given us some hope that there was a chance we'd be able to pull a sizeable number of survivors out from the wreckage. The second day came, and, as we expected, there hadn't been quite as many survivors. On the third, we found nearly none, many of the bodies we did find being fresher, some even still warm, and not from the fires that waged around them. We weren't quick enough.
And now, a week later, our job no longer was about recovering the wounded, but clearing the streets of the dead.
Getting back to the town square on day 1 left me, to be honest, rather content in spite of the more than bleak surroundings. Even the others seemed rather proud of the work they'd been doing. With my recovering the injured and their tending to them, between us, we wanted to think we'd saved a good number of lives. We'd spent the evening prior to calling it a night enjoying a warm MRE that I'd personally heated, ensuring no outsider was around to notice as we made plans for the day after, myself hoping to recover even more survivors, Zek and Ka'lira discussing waking early to get started on stabilizing the wounded early while Gordez voiced his intentions of joining with some of the mercenaries to patrol the outskirts of the city and ensure no further danger was coming.
We all had plans ahead of us, hopefully we'd be able to bring some hope to what, earlier that day, had been a bleak and desolate sight to behold, bodies swinging from structures, dead littering the streets, not a heart believed to be left beating. Seeing then that we were wrong, that there still was hope, it allowed us to feel at least somewhat good about ourselves as we drifted into the night. Of course, only after the others had been sure to at least give me something of a hard time considering the day I'd spent with my new "girlfriend" as they put it, a label they would have applied to any female within a 10-mile radius of me, I was sure.
As for Zare, after we'd recovered our last survivor of the day-an older man who somehow hadn't yet bled out after losing an arm to the Rough Rhinos, we'd parted ways, both of us exhausted, but acknowledging each other's "good work," leaving it at that. We agreed to resume our work tomorrow and parted ways from there. Us being as near to collapsing as we were after such a day of constant exertion, the pleasantries would have to wait.
The second day came.
Ka'lira and Zek had already set off to what I wanted to think would be a good day ahead. Gordez had yet to leave, the next patrol slated to depart at 0800.
I didn't waste time getting dressed or grabbing a bite of breakfast before setting off towards the square where I found Zare waiting, our agreement still holding, much to my own satisfaction.
We both had attempted to clean up from the day before it seemed, wiping the dry blood from ourselves, and no longer donned our coats which we knew from yesterday was a sore mistake given a combination of the heat and the workload. From there, we set to work, wanting to think that the day ahead would bring much the same success, if not more, of the day before. 27 was the number to beat.
We went into it feeling rather optimistic albeit sore from the day before. We were still stretching our limbs and cracking our necks, attempting to remove the knots in our muscles as we returned to the segment of town we'd covered the day prior, finding where we'd left off, figuring that a good point to resume.
"Sleep well?" she'd asked.
"Mmm," I responded. "No complaints. Street rubble makes for a good pillow."
"Hmph," she responded, seemingly amused, or so I wanted to think.
"And you?"
"Pretty good, all things considered. Good to sleep when feeling useful."
I nodded my head in agreement, having had much the same mindset in falling asleep myself last night, now wondering curiously just how long she'd been here, asking as such.
"Just got here two days ago. Wasn't even our target. We were headed to the coast when we saw the smoke. Seemed recent. Just a day before, I think."
"Was cutting it close then," I said, wondering just how scarce the Rhinos had already made themselves. Why the coast?"
"Earth Kingdom settlements there are being starved with the blockade. We've been delivering food and medical supplies."
"Fire Nation hasn't stopped you?"
She shook her head. "We're neutral. They gotta have some standards. We help them as much as we help the Earth Kingdom."
I nodded my head, remembering Citadel, a far different image of the nuns coming to mind however, this group here vastly different.
"How many of you are there exactly?"
"Our group? 52. Across the continent?" She shrugged. "I'd guess a few hundred. Probably no more than a couple thousand?"
I was nodding my head, processing the information as we continued walking through the ruined town, now coming to ask, curious, remembering how she'd been armed before, and more visibly, still was armed now, "Ever run into any trouble?"
Her hand moved instinctively to the blade at her side in a manner that betrayed her answer. "Not really, no." She became acutely aware then of her hand on the hilt of the weapon by her side and removed it then, saying, aware of her own instincts it seemed, "Pays to be prepared though. Doubt the Rhinos would care about our neutrality."
Not too much conversation would follow once we started getting to work. Our minds were occupied by the task ahead, our grim surroundings not providing space within us for levity. Only the occasional task-related comment, question, or order would be exchanged as I found myself, in the odd brief moment I had to do so, appreciating her ability to focus on what demanded the utmost attention.
Back in Citadel, the rare nun I'd chanced upon, while zealous, felt detached in some inhuman way. I supposed it wasn't their fault. They had stumbled upon circumstances the likes of which they seemed completely and utterly foreign to them, finding a city slum occupied by starving children being used as a human shield. In their shoes, I doubt I'd be able to instantaneously put myself in that position, fully prepared to involve myself in their concerns, especially when I'd be moving to just another miserable shithole shortly afterward. That wasn't to say their sincerity was false, their intentions any worse, but simply put, they just, they didn't understand.
But Zare's not a nun, is she?
I caught her eye for just a brief moment as we'd set down our 6th catch for the day, her delicately propping their head up on a folded towel as I ensured the bleeding had stopped. Something about her eyes. She understood. 'Born in Fire Nation occupied territory,' she'd said. Probably saw her share of fighting. She knew what the world was. Maybe she saw that same understanding in me, who could say? Point was, it was a pleasant surprise stumbling on somebody like that. At the very least, somebody like that who hadn't resorted to glorified terrorism.
I tried not to focus on the Separatists on my free time. That was the primary benefit of this job of ours-getting the hell away from the Seppies. Was no need to focus on them here.
So I continued with the day, trying to pretend it wasn't already past midday and we'd only found 6 living people.
By the time the sun was setting, we found 14. Barely half of the count from the day before.
"Go for one more?" She asked through labored breaths, hunched over, hands on her knees, after we'd set down our latest survivor—one who, all things considered, was in rather good shape, something that, despite our lacking rescue count, provided some solace.
The sun had nearly set below the town's outer wall, but nonetheless, I nodded my head in agreement, and bearing one torch between us, set back out into the ruins in the search for more.
"You know," she said, pausing as though grasping for words or merely lost in thought. "It only makes sense we'd find less. We got a good number of them yesterday. We're just finding the ones that are harder to get to now."
I had the vague feeling it wasn't me she was trying to convince as she said this, but I wanted to think it was true. I mean, it did makes sense, at least partially. The ones we found yesterday were the exact ones we weren't finding today. We did our jobs, and well apparently, judging by the lack of survivors we felt today. So I chose to agree, nodding my head, saying, "Yeah. Tomorrow will be better though. We'll search the other side of town and we're bound to find more."
She nodded as well, and we left it at that, choosing to believe in what we had said, despite the fact neither of us had missed that the blood on a number of the bodies we'd found today was still fresh.
The third day came.
I don't think either of us had slept as well. I know I hadn't. Didn't quite have the same high of enthusiasm and promise I'd slept with the day before. Or maybe it was merely the physical toll, though I doubted such was the case.
I hadn't even been awake long enough to hear from the others, Gordez already asleep when I returned, Zek and Ka'lira not back yet, though I found the couple asleep when I woke the following day, not quite keeping to the same promise of the day before to get started earlier. An indicator of success or failure from the day before? I couldn't say.
We'd only minimally cleaned ourselves up before heading out, splashing some water on our faces from the town well to wake ourselves.
"You eat?" she asked, digging into her pocket to remove a chunk of stale bread, hands on either end preparing to break it in half if receiving a certain answer.
"I'm good," I waved away dismissively.
That answer, apparently, wouldn't be quite good enough for her as she proceeded to break the chunk in half, handing me one which I reluctantly took, figuring it an idiotic idea to try and get through the day without anything in my belly.
I did it before. Citadel taught me how to go a good while without food.
It was a miserable day ahead. We attempted switching to a new part of the town, I think both of us, though neither of us admitted it, less concerned than who we were missing in the areas we'd already combed than just finding more than the day before.
We fell short on that goal for that rainy day as well.
We found none.
"How the fuck is it already night?" She'd asked, kicking some loose rubble that she'd cleared in search of what she thought had been a woman crying for help only to be a bird nesting in the ruins of what had once been somebody's home.
I myself was leaned against the wall of a semi-intact structure to the side, looking into the dusk sky, dark blues slowly fading into blacks.
"You sure," I asked, catching my breath. "You sure the others haven't already checked this area?"
She nodded her head, working her way to an actual worded response. "Yeah," she coughed, some dust from the rubble having worked its way into her lungs. "Yeah. We only cleared the East. None of the South or West."
I resisted the growing urge to torch the building immediately in front of me in a fit of anger, settling on subtly allowing the flames of the torch to grow, though not enough to catch Zare's attention. Damnit.
Things hadn't been going much better with the others, so I realized when we returned to the hospital square. It didn't take us long to hear what was going on.
"Cholera," a nun blurted out, racing past us, only stopping to answer Zare's query.
I was no stranger to disease in camps like this. I'd seen my fair share of it at Ba Sing Se, remembering vividly quite literally dragging myself out of that forsaken hospital tent full of dozens of other soldiers who had met fates similar to me in that ill-fated first assault.
Seeing it again now though did little to put such memories at bay.
Across the plaza, I could make out the figures of Zek and Ka'lira being led away from a figure prone on the ground, motionless. So we weren't the only ones having a rough day of it, it seemed. The atmosphere of the hidden square said just the same, lacking the energy of before, even the most devout now beginning to question the point of it all.
Zare managed to catch the sleeve of another passing acolyte with a small notepad tucked in her armpit, asking, "How many did we lose?"
The acolyte didn't need any mnemonic aid to assist her in remembering the day's toll it seemed as she simply let out with a mix of grimness but at the same time, startling sobriety of the situation, "17."
17.
More than we'd saved yesterday. Who knew how many more of the ones we'd saved were among them?
Zare released the young girl's sleeve, letting her continue on, her own train of thought clearly not far off from mine.
"Don't catch a break, do they?" was all she could say, the only one to speak between us. Her hair, disheveled and sweaty from the day behind us, shrouded her eyes, and I couldn't help but get the feeling she was glad for the seclusion it offered.
I still couldn't get the number '17' out of my head. There's been no news of disease yesterday. At least not of what I'd heard. And for 17 to be dead already. Cholera. For fuck's sake.
I think we both must have just been stood there for a few moments of silence as we beheld the eerie sight before us, neither of us knowing what to say until she made the first move to leave, planting a light pat on my shoulder and leaving without a further word.
We'd pick it right back up tomorrow, I knew. The idea that we could do something at the very least, as false as it may have been, was the only thing keeping us going right now. It had to count for something, believing that tomorrow would be better.
The 4th day came.
5 more had died through the night. At least, until I was woken by Zek in the middle of the night, shaking me awake. The mask over his face prevented me from being able to distinguish who he was, at least until he'd spoken. "Need your help," he called out. "Have to separate the sick from the healthy."
I was awake instantly. It had been a while since I'd last been shook awake, remembering the last time being back at Ba Sing Se. Even in Citadel I'd learned rather quick to not waste my time waking up. Not when your life depended on it.
"It's cholera," I said, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. "Don't need masks." I reached over to my flask at the side of my bedroll to get a morning drink until he swiped my hand aside, yelling, "Don't drink that!"
I looked at the flask of war now turned on its side, contents spilling out.
Oh. I see.
"We think the well might be infected."
Me and Zare washed our faces in the well last morning. When was the last time I refilled my flask?
I had now become acutely aware of every feeling within my body, probing for the slightest sickness, the slightest indicator that I was among those who had perished the day before.
"You're not sick," Zek said, knowing exactly what was on my mind. "If you were, you would hardly be conscious enough to be thinking about it. Now come on! Get up!"
He extended his arm to me, which, naturally, I took.
"Where's Ka'lira and Gordez?" I asked as I followed Zek to the interior square, hastening my steps to keep pace with him.
"Ka'lira's separating the patients. Gordez is getting people together to get water from the river."
I was relieved to hear that the two of them weren't out of commission, gladdened to see Zek seemingly in one piece as well, albeit exhausted by the look of him.
"How far's the river?" I asked, shrugging on my coat, the breeze of the night serving to render the extra layer necessary.
"Few miles to the south. Will have to make trips through the night. If the sick aren't hydrated, they'll die."
I was familiar with cholera. Had seen it in Citadel. Was just some bad food going around. Nothing with the water. I could go without food for a good while, but water, that was the real concern.
"What time is it?" I asked as we arrived.
"Don't know. Doesn't matter."
I nodded, my eyes being drawn to a small group of people gathered near the corner of the square by Gordez, who seemed to be doing as Zek had said-organizing people to gather water. I believed I made out the vague figure of Zare among them, but myself wasn't sure as I was promptly pulled away by Zek back towards the wounded where Ka'lira already was taking note of symptoms and the states of the injured. My eyes still would turn from time to time to Gordez's group, trying to definitively make out Zare's figure, hoping it was indeed her there and not among the sick I was attending to.
There were a number of nuns and other mercenaries that we were going through, Ka'lira having been busy attending to one such when Zek and I approached her.
"Sick," she said matter-of-factly, referring to the body she was huddled by, motioning her head in a given direction, towards what, I wasn't sure, though Zek seemed to possess a good idea, motioning me towards him.
The man, now labeled as merely 'sick' was laying atop a small cloth that Zek took as one end while I took it from the other, working my tired and sore muscles to raise it, nearly tearing the fabric as we did so. We managed to get him off the ground, a grotesque brown fluid leaking from below the fabric.
Yeah, I though, the smell instantly taking me back to Citadel's streets. That's cholera alright.
"Sick are over here," he mumbled from beneath his mask, myself now understanding why he was wearing it, the stench, despite something I was accustomed to from back in the 'good ol' day', overwhelming.
I pulled up my own facial covering, managing my end of the mat with one hand as I did so, struggling to regain a firm grip on it, trailing along after Zek, step by step to where the other sick were being held in a grim quarantine of dead and dying, the stench of puke, shit, and rotting bodies threatening to knock a lesser person out, but I'd seen worse, been in worse, the memory of burning flesh, hair, and bones still fresh in my mind, memories flooding back with them, my mind going blank as I scanned the mases for familiar faces, fearing what I may find, feeling some sick degree of relief when the only body I recognized was the one belonging to one of the acolytes whose name I'd never caught.
"Come on, there's more! Let's go!" cried Zek, pulling me back into reality, my gaze refocusing as I spun back around to run the relay to and fro the different area of the camps, moving the bodies accordingly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gordez's group leave, no longer being able to make out Zare's figure, but myself praying she was among them rather than the unfortunate souls I'd be relocating this evening.
I didn't know how long I slept, or what time it had been when I woke up, but the answer to both had been, respectively, 'not enough' and 'too early.' Body after body, we worked through the night and into the morning, running some sadistic relay race around the interior square, transporting bodies like cargo. The water retrieval groups came and went by the hours, other workers and civilians fit enough to be put to work running tirelessly around to bring good water to the sick. Why did it have to rain yesterday? Why couldn't it have been today?
Eventually, the black sky lightened into a deep blue that eventually became shrouded by morning clouds, myself only wishing they'd bring rain for that day, but by the look of them, they had no water to give.
Morning came.
The sick had been separated from the healthy.
There was a somewhat steady supply of water coming in.
23 people had died that night, in addition to the 5 who had been dead by the time I woke up.
28 dead in a single night.
45 dead in the last 24 hours.
The 5th day had come.
My throat was dry, my eyes were sore, eyelids heavy, arms trembling, still feeling the phantom weight of the dozens of bodies I'd transported through the night still weighing them down.
I should sleep, but I couldn't. My eyes were still drawn to the exit of the inner square. There has to be more out there. We can't have found them all.
I didn't know how long she'd been standing there, but I lacked the energy to be startled by the sudden appearance of Zare by my side who, seemingly, possessed the selfsame idea as I. We had to go back out there.
I think that, for both of us, that day had been more of an exhausted stumble than it had been an effective search and rescue. We were looking, listening, digging through rubble, praying we'd find just some hint of life, but as we dug through debris, searched burned out homes, and combed the streets, we only found more and more bodies already devoid of life.
We were lifeless, shambling along the streets, too tired to talk, our only interaction limited to her extending a flask of water to me.
My suspicious eye cast on it, clearly concerned of what lay inside was enough to prompt her to respond with, "River," proceeding to take a drink out of it herself before handing it back to me.
I don't even think I'd been suspicious, merely too out of it to even process what she was handing off to me. Eventually, of course, I did take it, taking a deep swig of cool river water, a paranoid side of myself still feeling a knot in my stomach as I did so, the irrational fear raking through me.
"They say it was intentional," Zare said quietly as she took another swig of water, carefully setting it down, recapping the lip, and stowing it away.
"Rhinos?"
"Their thugs, Gordez says," she corrected.
It felt weird hearing her say his name. Almost in a fashion like she was one of us, but it made sense. Was fetching water with him throughout the night. I nod my head. "So they're in here with us."
"Or they snuck in," she shrugs. She went quiet for a small while until speaking up again to ask, "Gordez. He your leader?"
I shake my head, not sure how much to say, but figure it no harm in giving away some minor details disconnected from anything of real significance. "No. Not our leader, but we trust him. Hasn't led us wrong before."
"And the others?" she asked, her voice, her questions seemingly forced, simply wishing to put aside the solemn silence with something to break it, but her own voice, quiet and grim, betraying her intentions. "The ones you were with this morning?"
I nod. "Zek and Ka'lira," I said, stating their names.
"Know each other well?" She further asked as we continued along, dragging ourselves ahead.
I nodded, figuring it best not to go any deeper, and apparently, she was just as aware of this as well, remaining quiet, not seeking to dig any further.
It was well into the afternoon, and we still hadn't found a single living soul.
We were hardly even moving anymore, simply leaning against rubble, damn near settling down and calling it a day, ready to call it quits here, make use of ourselves back at the camp, help fetch water, something along those lines.
I think both of us were right on the edge of calling it quits at any moment when we heard a rustling from down an alleyway.
We both turned our heads towards it, dead silent, waiting to see if we heard it again, our heads turning to one another as though to ask, 'You heard that too, right?'
We stayed listening, propping ourselves off from the walls as though the extra few inches would allow us to hear all the farther, and eventually, we supposed it work as the noise sounded again, followed by that same questioning look at one another.
"Could be an animal?" she asked, playing devil's advocate as I myself would have done had she not asked first.
"Or a person," was the only logical answer. She agreed. Naturally. Her asking of the question was no indication of hesitation to investigate. Merely, it was something that needed to be said.
We both returned to our feet, a new hopeful, yet hesitant energy to our steps. As much as it could have been an injured, it could easily have been a stray cat, or perhaps even some of these thugs who'd been making our lives hell throughout the last few days.
We both had hands on our weapons as proceeded, turning into an alley, approaching the surface of the noise, now hearing something that, beyond all shadow of a doubt, was not a wild animal. It was a grunt, that of a girl.
Zare and I turned to one another, and our paces quickened, ourselves nearly jogging as we turned that last corner and found her there, amidst a pile of rubble, bloodied, bruised, pale, clothes torn, a metal rod emerging from her shin, holding her down in place, stuck.
"Shit," I just barely whispered, pausing in my steps as I saw this, proceeding forward alongside Zare who immediately went to the girl's side.
She's no older than 12.
The girl opened her mouth to yelp upon seeing us, our faces likely not pleasant sights to look at: muddied, bloodied, and sweaty, but her voice caught in her own throat, no water or energy to fuel such an act.
"There, there, it's alright now," Zare whispered, lowering herself to a kneel by the girl's side. "It's alright now. You're safe." She raised the flask to the girl's mouth with her right hand, tilting her head back with her left to allow the water to flow down to the last drop, all for the girl.
While Zare occupied the girl's left, I occupied her right, my eyes focused on her wounds. She had suffered from multiple lacerations and trauma injuries, likely from the collapsing surrounds around her rather than an individually targeted attack. The bruises would heal, and the cuts had already mostly scabbed over save for some larger cuts that, at the very least, had stopped bleeding. It was her leg I was worried about, locked in place, held down, blood and internal organs being kept in place by the metal red impaling her alone.
"My leg," the girl whimpered. "I think my leg is stuck on something."
The water was gone by the time Zare set down the flask, turning to me as though awaiting a status report on the girl's leg.
"I know," Zare said, forcing a smile onto her face. "We'll get it out. Don't worry there."
"We move her," I whispered, "and the leg will bleed. Badly. We need to bring supplies from camp and tend to her here."
"We ran out of gauze, and we have no idea what left of our supplies is still uninfected. We can't leave her here."
"Moving her might ki-" I paused, realizing she was right next to me, being careful to avoid saying anything that needed not be said. "It might be dangerous to move her."
Zare's eyes turned to her, then back to me, biting down on her lip, thinking it through. "They have doctors at the camp. They'll know what's good or not. We can't leave her here. Not like this."
I turned back to the girl. She wasn't doing well. Not in the slightest. As concerned as I was about moving her, leaving her like this, I wasn't sure if that in itself would accomplish anything either.
"Alright," I said, nodding my head. "We'll move her. Help me support her from below. We'll pull her up."
Zare turned to the girl, saying, "Alright. This is going to hurt a bit, alright? We're going to get your leg free, but it might hurt a little bit. Okay?"
The girl nodded, saying nothing, myself not knowing if it was lack of energy or fear of what was ahead. She has no idea of knowing what's ahead. What the pain's going to feel like.
I reached into my bag, finding some torn rags I'd used part of to patch the man from a few days back. There was still a good amount left. Enough, I wanted to think, to try and stop some of the worse bleeding.
The hole goes straight through. I won't be stopping anything.
"Zare," I said. "It might be best to-" I cocked my head to the side in a swift motion, herself seemingly knowing just what I meant-amputation.
She shook her head, mouthing, 'no!' in a yell. "We can't do that," she whispered. "She'd never walk again!"
It's true. She wouldn't. Not on her own, but at the very least she'd be alive.
But what kind of life would that be? No family, no friends, not being able to walk without help. I shook my head, shaking the doubts aside. We'd do this. We'd do this right. We'd get her out. We'd save her.
I nodded to her, placing an army beneath her knee to raise her, the other holding a rag, at the ready to put pressure on the wound. At the very least, one of them. We have to do this. We can't cut through the rod. This is the only way.
"On 3," I said, being met with her nod of affirmation, rubbing the girl's head one last before hooking her arms beneath the girl's shoulders.
"Hey," she said to the girl again, getting her attention. "What's your name?"
"Hana."
"Hana," Zare smiled. "That's a pretty name."
"It's my mom's."
I could see Zare's struggle to maintain the effortful smile on her face, her eyes betraying her, revealing the pain behind. The sooner we get her out of here, the better.
She nodded to me, and I nodded to her.
"1…2…3!"
We pulled, the grotesque sound of metal scraping against flesh screeching through our ears, disgusting, hideous, appalling, combined with the girl's screams of terror, creating a combination of noise the horror of which I hadn't seen since Ba Sing Se.
A red wake was left on the rod that had been impaling her leg only moments ago. The girl was now held between the two of us, my left arm deliberately attempting to stop the rushing flow of blood. It was what I had expected. We had to move, and fast, and so after a panicked few seconds of orientating ourselves, we found the way back to camp, and raced there.
The girl's screaming stopped. "She's just passed out!" I yelled, praying it was true as we ran back the way we'd come, racing through the town center to the hidden square where the injured were being kept. Please be alive. Dear Raava, let her be alive.
"We got a survivor!" Zare called out the moment we entered the square, eyes from all over instantly being drawn to us.
"We need water and bandages!" I yelled.
Gehor took the child from our names, setting her down on an empty mat, Zare and I chasing close behind, turning back to realize nobody had yet brought bandages or water.
"Bandages and water!" Zare called behind again.
"We're-we're out of bandages," said the nun behind us, the one I recognize as Kala. "And the others. They haven't come back with the water since this morning."
What?
"We-" Zare stuttered. "We have to stop the bleeding. We need alcohol, or gauze, or anything or…"
She simply paused, sitting there, hands around Hana.
She hadn't realized that Hana had died minutes ago from blood loss as she lay on the cold stone floor in the middle of a town square filled with hundreds more like her, slowly withering away.
Zare hadn't realized that she was clinging onto a lifeless body as she yelled at people around her to do something.
That wasn't to say I was any different. My hands were still clutched tight around the entry and exit wounds marking where the rebar had torn through her body, blood seeping between my fingers, painting my skin a deep red.
It was minutes of us just sitting there, the one person we'd found in the last two days, dead in our arms. The one person we'd found. The one person we'd had a chance of saving. Somber whispers of "You did your best" or "I'm sorry flew right over us" as I went still, frozen, but Zare began to shake.
Hana.
She reminded me of somebody I'd seen before.
One of the faces of the oh so many lives I'd taken that night, wide open, staring at me. I reach my hand to her face, allowing her eyelids to rest closed, leaving a smear of crimson on her face as I did so.
Zare rose slowly, shaking, her legs looking as though they were going to give out from under her at any moment, until she kicked aside her empty flask of water, sending it hurtling across a good segment of the plaza, a loud curse rising to her lips before falling back down to the ground on her knees.
I myself was still clutching the girl's wounds, unable to let go, fearing that if I did, it might become real. Eventually, however, I gave in, simply falling back onto the cold stone group, eyes facing the clouded sky above, eyes red, tired, exhausted, just wanting to sleep, just wanting it to be over.
We were done for today.
We found one person that day. And we had lost them.
19 more people died of cholera in the camp.
The well was drained that day, and a punctured back full of shit had been found at the bottom, weighed down to sink it and infect the whole town's water supply. It'd been deliberate.
Of course it was.
3 more had died that day. There was a reason we had no water. Gordez's group was ambushed by thugs. 3 mercenaries had been killed, Gordez thankfully not one of them.
So many people dead. And for what? The more time we spent here, the more it seemed as though this town was a deathtrap meant to draw in the kind, the warm-hearted, the ones who gave a shit, in. It had worked.
So this was the Rhinos' plan? Burn a city to the ground as bait?
That had been the 5th day.
We probably would have liked to sleep in the 6th, but we found each other at the square at the usual time nonetheless. Blood still stained my hands and her face, our clothes dirty, torn, a complete mess.
We had different orders today. "Clear the dead."
We'd given up on the living. The one's we knew were currently alive, the sick and injured, they were our concern. All else, and it was too late.
And that was what had become of us, clearing the streets of the dead, neither me nor Zare speaking a word for the entire day, not believing there was, simply put, anything to be said.
We were dieners in a land of the dead, more cold bodies than warm. We were kept busy, no time for words, simply picking up one body between us at a time and moving them outside the walls for them to be buried or burned later. We still hadn't decided how to send them off from this world. We didn't know what to talk about even if we'd wanted to, fearing it would begin with talk of yesterday, of the girl, of Hana, and so we avoided the subject by avoiding conversation entirely.
It was a juvenile resort, but effective, and all we had.
Beneath the sadness, the despair, and the hopelessness, however, there was something more, something angry, hateful. It had been there when I first came to this city and saw what had been done. But they hadn't been finished. Disease, murder, adding all the more to the suffering they'd already inflicted, there could be no forgiveness for a sin such as that. And that anger was what I had, what kept me going, knowing I couldn't let them win. It was that anger and hate that would overcome the despair.
And so, when later that day, Gordez returned and reported he'd found the mercenary camp, I was among the first to volunteer.
Every sin had its punishment.
I wasn't responsible for the punishment in the afterlife.
But here, in this world, I still had a say in the matter.