Stranded Camp
Present Day
There's not many human beings who can love like that. Gears, mainly. It's why we know what it really means to be human. It's more than family. It's civilization. What's best in humanity. Even Baird, the inbred little shit. Funny, that, for a bunch of bastards who'll carve another living creature with a chainsaw."
— Sergeant Bernadette Mataki, telling Dominic Santiago about his brother, Carlos.
I motioned for everybody to get out of the Centaur. Cole let Sam out the back, and she immediately went to my side, sensing the tense atmosphere. Nobody at the camp liked the COG, but I was hoping that they'd recognize me and not immediately fire upon the squad. Normally, the Stranded and the gears could coexist almost peacefully, with an understanding of their mutual disgust for each other. This was different. We were on Dix's territory. Stranded territory. The general consensus was that they'd leave us alone, we'd leave them alone. The two worlds should never mingle.
I wasn't sure how to proceed. We were about three-hundred yards from the camp's gates, definitely in range. The only options were to retreat or press on towards the camp. "Baird," I called quietly, "Is this the only way to Nexus?"
He had to check the map once more. "Yep," he answered. "Now you wanna explain what's going on?"
I curbed the instinct to check my magazines and the chainsaw's tension, deciding that those weren't exactly friendly gestures. Sighing, I motioned up the street, where the gate was partially hidden, invisible to those who didn't know it was there. "There's a Stranded camp up that way, right where we wanna go."
"Alright then," Baird said. "Stranded scum, or tank. I'm liking our odds here."
I whirled to face him, my temper flaring. "You can't do that!"
"And why not?" he countered.
"Because-" I paused. What was stopping us from busting down the gates with the Centaur? Because they're people, an inner voice answered me. Because this is your home.
"Let's not resort to pillaging and burning just yet," Marcus said, joining the conversation. He gave me a look. "You know them?"
I nodded, glancing over my shoulder to make sure they hadn't sent the welcome wagon yet. "This is Dix's camp. They don't like gears, but Dix is pretty reasonable. Let me talk to them, get us access to the camp. They won't like it, but they'll probably let us pass."
Marcus nodded once. "Then that's the plan. It's 'hearts and minds' time people, try not to piss anybody off any more than we have to." He looked at Baird, "Stay here with the Centaur, and be ready to move if this doesn't go well."
"No," I said, shaking my head. "We need to show a united front; let them check you guys out. Splitting numbers and keeping a tank on our ass doesn't exactly inspire trust."
"Wait a second," Baird said, folding up the map. "You want us to walk in there, and leave ourselves victim to their 'good graces'?"
"Dix's camp is filled with families- women and children. They won't want to start a firefight any more than we do." I shot him a look, "And we don't want to start a firefight."
Baird snarled at me before turning to Marcus. "Man, you can't be serious! We're just going to head right in there and let them eat us alive?"
"Looks like that's the plan," Marcus said, letting his gun hang from one hand. He gave me a meaningful look, one full of faith and confidence. Holy crap, I thought to myself. He actually trusts me to get them through this.
Baird had a few more choice words to say about this idea. He did not want to leave the tank, and he especially did not want to put himself in the position of trusting Stranded. Cole didn't look too enthused about the idea either, but he would go along with whatever Marcus said. "Let's go," I said, my voice sounding more confident than I actually was.
I took point, hoping that they'd see me before they saw the huge, hulking gears right on my ass. It was silent on the walk up to the compound's gate; the only noise the occasional scrape of metal boots on scattered patches of concrete. I stopped a hundred yards from the gate, and I could sense Delta do the same.
"Darvish!" I called. "Open the gate! It's me, Bri!"
Darvish's head popped up from behind cover. He looked, and his eyes opened wide when he saw Delta. "Holy shit!" I saw him mouth, before ducking down out of sight.
"Shit..." I said quietly. Sprinting forward, I hollered "Darvish! You sound the alarm and I'm shooting!"
For a moment, nothing happened. I stopped running, wondering what was going to happen next. "Yeah," I heard Darvish say, "Cause that makes me feel so much better!" He stood, holding his hammerburst at the ready. He eyed Marcus and the rest of the squad before turning his beady eyes on me. "Damnit Bri," he said. "Yo' realize yo' got an asshole parade following ya'?"
I relaxed slightly. As long as I could keep Darvish talking, there probably wouldn't be a fight. "That's what I need to talk to Dix about. He in?"
Delta still waited a hundred yards out, too far away to hear our conversation. "Yeah, he's here." He adjusted his hammerburst. "Listen, they giving ya' trouble? We'll take care of 'em for ya', if that's what needs doing."
"No, man," I said, slightly surprised. Of all the people of the camp, Darvish was the one I least expected to have my back. "They're all right. We really need to speak to Dix. It's important."
He deliberated, watching Delta with untrusting eyes. He cursed, shaking his head. "All right," he said, reaching for the gate controls. "If they stupid enough to pull some shit in the camp, then they deserve to be shot. Natural selection, and all that."
Ignoring that last part, I waved for Delta to join me. They didn't exactly hurry, but at least they didn't drag their feet. "Cole," I faintly heard Marcus say before their conversation would become privy to the rest of the camp. "Look friendly and take point."I shook my head once, but decided not to push it. Cole was the biggest in the group, and I didn't care if he was wearing a Santa suit and singing 'Kum-Bah-Yah', the man just wasn't going to pull off friendly.
Darvish opened the gates, a bit narrower than necessary; probably to make the gears enter one at a time. Taking a deep breath, I ducked into the compound. There were the standard pair of guards residing at the gate's entrance, but now they looked agitated, and were sending for backup. I could see the wave of panic take over the camp as the news was quickly passed around. Around here, the COG was a thing to be feared, almost as much as the locust. Many had lost family to the Hammer strikes, were running from the birthing farms, or were born into the camp and had their fear passed down to them. And, as per human nature, that fear turned to anger.
Cole squeezed through the narrow opening, and flashed a brilliant smile to all in sight. "Whoo!" he called, "Cole Train's got to fit through a tiny tunnel!"
I almost told him to shut up, but something else caught my attention. Giving him a confused look, I mouthed "Cole Train?" He winked, but didn't answer, moving aside for Marcus.
The rest of Delta emerged, forming a heavily-armed line behind me. In front of me, a line of pissed-off Stranded guards formed; mostly men. They flung insults at them, and I listened for a second, giving them time to tire.
"What are you assholes doing here?"
"You wanna kill some more innocent people? The Hammer strikes didn't do enough for you?"
"You're not taking my Beth back to the farms! I'll kill you first!"
"Get out! Go back where you came from!"
"You're not welcome here!"
I let the insults pass over me like a furious wave. I held my hands up for silence, fighting down a grunt of disbelief when I imagined the scene. Me, this five-foot-nothing kid protecting a squad of six-foot, ten-ton giants from this mob of angry, starving, and scared people. "Shut it!" I yelled. It took a few moments, but eventually it calmed enough for me to talk.
"Where is Dix?" I asked the front row of angry camp members. Instead of getting the answer I was looking for, I got a lot of scornful and angry looks.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Bri?" a man asked me. "You should know better than this!"
"It's important, Erik!" I answered him. "We just need permission to move through the camp, and up to the mountain. Now, if I could just speak to Dix..."
There was a parting in the sea of people, and Dix emerged. He looked over the scene with a cool calculating scan of his brown eyes. His heavy-lidded gaze wandered over the four gears standing at the ready behind me. The crowd at his back quieted, allowing Dix to take control of the situation. He adjusted his scarred and crudely-made leather jacket, revealing a .45 stuck in the waist of his camouflage cargos. His sharp eyes flickered over to me, and his mouth tightened. "God damnit Bri…what did they do to you?"
It wasn't until he spoke up I remembered all the injuries I had gathered over the past few days. The most visible ones were from the fight in the bathroom with the asshole gear. I tenderly touched my cheek, and it throbbed where my fingers rested. The flesh was hot and rough, and a few flakes of skin shredded off at my touch. I had no idea how bad it looked, however. The luxury of mirrors were back at the COG, far from this minimalist society.
I gave him a tiny smirk. "I fell." A few people gave a breath of laughter; I wasn't the most graceful person in the camp. My balance skills were the stuff of legends, and the broken, cracked pavement didn't do anything to help matters.
"Fair enough," Dix said, eyes dark. I could tell he didn't buy my excuse. "You wanna explain what's going on here?"
I motioned vaguely behind me. "They're on a mission, and they need passage to Mount Kadar. There is a Locust stronghold there. The COG's planning to find their main city, and drill down to it." I gave him a pleading look, "This could mean the end of the war, Dix!"
He snorted, and I could tell he wasn't going to budge. He did a wide sweeping of the camp with one arm. "You see this? All these people? They're all running from the COG." He said 'COG' like it was a four-letter word. "It's my job to keep them safe. You say they want to find the Locust stronghold? Then what? What happens when I have the entire damn COG army beating down my door? What do I tell them then?"I remained silent. I hadn't thought that far ahead. "And another thing," Dix continued. "What happens when they piss the Locust off? Then the only thing between the Locust and the COG is this camp. I will not put these people in that position."
For a long beat, nobody said anything. Most of the Stranded were watching me, wondering if I'd back down. The others were watching Delta with distrust, fearful that they'd force their way through the camp anyway. I heard a frustrated sigh, and Baird muttered, "Should have brought the tank..."
The crowd parted again, and a small woman slowly made her way to the head of the standoff. "Out of my way," she said, and everyone obliged. "For crying out loud, acting like a bunch of animals here." She was shorter than most, and her hair was streaked with grey. Despite her wrinkled and beaten-down body, she held herself pride fully, as if defying the effect time had on her. She ushered a guard out of her way before coming to a stop besides Dix. I grinned, and Sam wagged her tail. It was Momma.
Nobody said a word as Momma's dull eyes observed the four gears standing behind me. When she spoke, her voice was loud and full so everyone would hear. "History teaches us that men and nations behave rationally once all other options have been exhausted." She paused, then shook her head. "Let's try to come up with a reasonable solution here, now, and not get caught up in a pissing contest."
"Dix," she began, turning to the man standing beside her. "You say that if you let one COG squad through, you'll have to send the whole army through. But what if there is no Locust stronghold? There will be no harm done. But what if there is?" she posed the question to him. "How long do you think we can remain here while the Locust literally live on our doorstep? Is it not better to let the COG fight them, then have us fight?"
Baird snorted quietly; probably amused that she thought the COG would be fighting for 'us'. I, however, understood what she was getting at. The COG would send trained soldiers, with plenty of ammo and reinforcements. If the locust attacked here, the results would be devastating. Our armada was woefully unprepared to handle a full-on attack.
"Then what would you have me do?" Dix asked her. "I swore to protect the members of this camp from the COG. Do you want me to just let them take over our turf?"
She laughed, as if even addressing the matter was ridiculous. "Dix, it's not like they're asking us to join the Coalition, they just want permission to pass through the camp."
There was the slight matter of the Centaur, but I decided that now might not be the best time to bring that up. "Dix, come on. This could be the end of the locust! Do you want to be the reason for humanity's downfall?"
"Well, when you put it like that," he drawled sarcastically. He eyed the gears once more before sighing. "I guess it's okay, as long as they don't cause trouble."
I relaxed slightly, not even realizing I was tense. I gave Mamma a quick smile, which she returned. Most of the camp members gave a disgusted sigh and left the importune meeting. Dix shook his head. "Only you, Bri."
I blinked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him.
Before he could answer, the four gears at my back, almost forgotten till now, stirred. Marcus walked up till he stood on my left. "We'll need the gate opened," he said in that same low grumble, getting straight down to business.
Mamma answered him, watching the sun quickly sink in the west. "Nonsense. It would be suicide to try going up the mountain at this time of day. You wouldn't get ten miles until dark. Plus, we need to inform our men upriver so they don't attack you on sight. I guess the only sensible decision is for you to spend the night here."
"Oh, yes. Sensible," Dix quipped. He rolled his eyes, giving the squad a dismissive wave of his hand. "Do what you will. Apparently I'm no longer in control here, anyway."
We watched him as he strode away, walking with purpose to take on whatever problem dared darken the camp's doorstep. Mamma waited until he was out of earshot before laughing quietly. "That man is entirely too full of himself."
"Tell me about it," I murmured, but he wasn't as bad as some current company. "Oh, by the way," I said to her, turning to face Delta. "This is Marcus, Cole, Dom, and the real ugly bastard is Baird."
"Oh, ha-ha," Baird deadpanned, giving me a death-glare.
Mamma cut him off before he could really get going. "Nice to meet you. Sorry you had to suffer through our welcome wagon," she greeted them all with a nod of the head before turning her faded brown eyes to me. "They're preparing for dinner."
"I'll help," I volunteered immediately. Mealtime at the camp was the one time when everybody came together and worked for the good of the camp. Everybody contributed in some way; whether that meant growing crops, hunting wild game, or cooking. I felt guilty that I hadn't contributed much in the past week, and nothing for the past three days. "What do they need me to do?"
"I think they were saying they needed another server," she said, dismissing me to my job. She turned to Delta. "You're welcome to stay for dinner. It's not much, but feel free to help yourself." She clicked her fingers and Sam left with her, sniffing her pockets for a treat. I rolled my eyes, smiling a tad bit. Mamma could spoil Sam the way I never could, and it made me happy to see them getting along.
The 'kitchens' were in a collapsed building next to the river. All the rubble had been taken away, and the tile floor way perfect for building fires to cook food. The half-standing walls kept the wind out of the fire, and there was just enough roof left to keep rain and snow away, but not choke everybody with smoke. Inside, there were two camp stoves set up with giant bubbling cauldrons set up on top. There was enough room for servers to stand behind the fires comfortably and, when necessary, for four large gears to stand awkwardly behind them.
There was a group of people mingling outside the kitchens, and they fell silent when Delta and I approached. Ignoring the stunned silence, I headed for the camp fires. The heat filled the small room. The world was slowly turning cold again, just in time for Frost. I hated the colder weather, and dreaded its return every year.
"Hey, Jared!" I called to one of the servers. "I'll take over here."
He sent me a dark look, and then let the spoon fall back into the stew with a quiet plop. He turned without saying a word and left the kitchen. I halfway expected the rest of the kitchen staff to follow, but they remained. Everyone continued their chores, albeit quietly.
Dinner that night was venison stew, made with the last of the potatoes and carrots that we had grown. Most of the vegetables had already been salted, dried, or canned in preparation for the snows. The fresh food would be one last indulgence before succumbing to a diet of preserves and whatever could be hunted over the long, cold months.
I served spoonfuls into whatever containers the camp members had. Most passed by without saying a word, completely ignoring the gears at my back. A few whispered a thank you before turning and hastily leaving. And even fewer spoke to me, flashing me small smiles.
"Well, hello, Bri," called Hank, another camp member. He was one of the oldest here, and one of the kindest. I always felt saddened around him, especially since his disease had progressed further. Sheryl, the camp's doctor- who was little more than a pre E-day veterinarian- believed he had cancer, although she didn't have any way of proving her diagnosis. He had to be in unbearable pain most of the day, although he refused to show it. His wide smile and twinkling brown eyes would be sorely missed when he finally succumbed to his illness, although nobody had any idea when that would be.
I smiled at him, filling his bowl with the fragrant stew. "Hi there, Hank! How have you been?"
"Fine, fine, juss fine." He gave the gears behind me a look, then leaned in conspiratorially. "You keeping out of trouble, little miss?"
"Hank, you know me!" I teased. "When have I ever kept out of trouble?"
He laughed loudly, standing straight up. "True, true." He cut his eyes to the squad behind me. "You gentlemen have yourselves a nice night, now."
"You too, sir," Marcus said, and he managed to sound sincere. At least it was Marcus who answered, and not Baird.
Hank gave them a closer look, then froze. "Hey," he called out and I paused, wondering what was up. "You Augustus Cole? Number 83? The Cole Train?"
Confused, I turned to look at Cole. He laughed, striding forward. "'Bout time somebody realized the Cole Train was in town! How you doing, baby?"
I had to be missing something. How did Hank know Cole? And it wasn't just Hank. Once other camp members heard Hank's outburst, they gave Cole a second look, and whispers started flying.
Cole found himself surrounded by a group of camp members, but they weren't angry. Quite the opposite. They were cheering him, shaking his hand and asking for autographs. I watched them, stunned. "…Somebody wanna fill me in?" I asked.
Marcus was watching their exchange with a blank face. "Cole was a thrashball star back before the war. Seems like people still remember him."I gave him a look. "What's 'thrashball'?"
He shook his head, not answering, and that's when I noticed Dom was missing. "Where's Dom?"
"He's searching for Maria," Marcus answered me, then changed subjects. "I need to have a talk with you later."
My brow furrowed, wondering what on Sera he could want to talk to me about. The answer hit me with the force of a ten-ton truck. He didn't want me on the mission. "Shit, that's okay," I said, trying to ignore the icy hand that had clenched my heart. "I'm sure there's other squads I can help out, snipe for them…"
He gave me a slightly perplexed look. "That's not what I meant. I need to talk to you and Dom later. It's important."
Me and Dom? I thought to myself, What do we have to do with each other? "Okay…" I drew the word out, still trying to ponder out why he needed to talk to us. I laid the ladle back in the stew, after serving up five bowls for Delta and me. I passed a bowl to Marcus, and tried to press one on Baird, but he just gave it a baleful look and strode past me. I rolled my eyes, dumping his bowl back into the stew. Passing Cole's bowl to Marcus, I informed him I was going to find Dom. Julie took over the serving station, keeping her head down and not looking at Marcus. He grunted, then went over to fight off some of Cole's fan club.
I found Dom in the center of the camp, showing around a worn photograph. He thrust it into the faces of camp members, asking them a question over and over again. Every time a camp member said no, his face fell a little bit. It wasn't until I was closer did I hear his frantic question. "Have you seen this woman? Her name's Maria."
He pressed the worn photograph onto Sabrina, a woman in the camp. She studied the picture for a second before shaking her head slowly.
While she was studying it, Dom's face was full of hope and expectations, as if his entire world would change if Sabrina said yes. His eyes dimmed when she shook her head, and he nodded slowly. Sadly. "Thank you," he said, his normally cheerful voice despondent.
I gave Sabrina a smile as I walked up, dismissing her. Dom perked up when he saw me, and tried to press the picture on me. "Here. This is the picture I was telling you about. Have you seen her?"
I pushed the picture back toward him without looking at it. "I'm not the person to ask. You need to talk to Momma. If Maria has ever stepped foot in this camp, she'd know."
"Where's she at?" he questioned, looking around frantically. He was agitated, completely at odds with his normally calm and collected demeanor.
"She's probably over at her hut." I shot him a calming look. "Hey, it's okay. If Momma knows her, we'll find her. I promise."
His dark eyes searched my face. "Alright," he took a calming breath. "Sorry."
"Don't mention it," I told him. "Seriously, don't. I got a reputation to uphold." I passed off the bowls of stew to Sabrina, sensing that Dom wouldn't eat until we spoke to Momma.
He smiled slightly, and that same damn hopeful look took over his face. "Alright, then. Thank you, Bri."
I returned his smile, and then motioned in the direction of Momma's house. "Tell me about her."
"Maria? She was...she is incredible," he started, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "She looks...a lot like you actually."
I rolled my eyes. "What, with brown hair and brown eyes? I hope you're a bit more specific when you talk to Momma, cause that includes half the women left on Sera."
He shifted his gaze to me, giving me a dry look. "Yeah, okay. Maria and I, we were neighbors as kids. We fell in love as teenagers. I got her pregnant when I was sixteen, and we married."
"Knocked up at sixteen?" I gave a low whistle. "Ever heard of a condom?"
He coughed dryly, "Yeah, yeah. You're not going to say anything I haven't heard before, so save it. I joined the army to support her and my son. A few years later we had a little girl." A soft look of deep-rooted pain passed over his face. "They both died on E-day."
His story was one of typical heartbreak. Almost everybody lost some - if not all - of their family on Emergence day, or later as the Locust slowly took over all of Sera. In fact, it was more unusual to find somebody who hadn't lost a loved one to the war. "I know what you mean," I told him quietly, a trace of agony creeping into my voice. "I lost my whole family on E-day."
He looked like he was going to question me about this new revelation, so I hurriedly changed the subject by pointing out Momma's house. "Here we are," I muttered as a place holder, lifting my hand to the semi-rotten piece of wood that served as a door. I knocked lightly, halfway expecting my fist to go through it.
Momma answered. Sam was in the back of the room, chewing on a piece of jerky that had to be as hard as old boot leather. Momma's face was old and wrinkled, wind-beaten into the color and texture of leather. Her clothes were old and scruffy, having been patched and re-patched so many times that the original color was not discernible. Her arms were thin, and the skin sunk off the bones like drenched paper. Despite all this, her smile was warm, and her eyes twinkled at the both of us.
"Well," she said. "Ain't this a fine peck of pickles we've picked."
Dom blinked, not sure what to say. I rolled my eyes and ushered him into her small shack. Momma shifted the slab of wood to the side, keeping out the chill of the wind but leaving enough space for a sliver of light to sliver its way into the room. Sam stood within the shack, her tail wagging slightly side to side as the slab of jerky hung loosely from her jaw. There was no doubt that it would have taken the force of two ten-ton tanks to pry it from her teeth, however invitingly she held it.
Leaving Sam to her treat, I clapped Dom on the shoulder. "Momma, this is Dom. He's looking for his wife. Figured you'd be the person to ask."
She gave him a slow nod, motioning for him to have a seat. He eyed it cautiously, then declined. It was probably a good thing; the cot looked sturdy enough for Momma's fragile weight, but there was no way it would have supported the heft of a gear. Dom looked huge and obtruding in the small shack, and by the expression on his face, he knew it. He awkwardly passed the small photograph to Momma. "Have you seen this woman?"
Momma took the picture gently, gathering it delicately in both hands. She stood in silence for a long while, her watery brown eyes carefully taking in every detail of the picture. The room held its breath, Dom's anxiety taking over the small shack. His eyes were bright, and never detoured from Momma's face. He waited hopefully, faithfully, examining her face for some spark of recognition; a memory of a woman that was more than likely long-dead. Even Sam felt the tension and dropped to her stomach, watching the room with careful eyes, wondering who was going to try to steal away her prize.
Finally, finally, Momma sighed. She gave the photograph a mournful shake of her head, passing it back to Dom. "I'm sorry," she said, none of the usual light present in her voice. "I've never seen her before in my life."
Dom deflated, his shoulders sinking and his eyes dropping to the picture he once again held possessively in his hands. "Thank you for your time," he said. He was the picture of pitiful, and my heart gave a painful squeeze.
"Hey," I said quietly, "This is only one Stranded camp out of what, a thousand? She's out there, somewhere." I tried to ignore the lie that fell so easily from my lips.
He perked up, and his eyes searched my face with the same intensity Momma had given Dom's picture. "You think?"
I smiled wanly. "I know. When we finish this whole Nexus bit, I'll even help you find her."
His face creased into a grin, and the transformation from depressed, brooding Dom to happy-go-lucky Dom was complete. "Thanks, Bri," he said. He brought his hand up to ruffle my hair. I stood still, accepting, if not enjoying, the gesture of affection. I gave him a smile back, rolling my eyes as I readjusted my tussled hair. Watching him, so happy, so hopeful, I allowed myself a tiny spark of hope for him. Against all odds, he still believed he would see Maria again someday. There was something about this undeniable faith that made people want to believe again.
"Yeah, well…I owed you one anyway." He looked confused, so I patted my holster in a knowing way, reminding him of the box of bullets he had lent me. He nodded once, signaling that he understood.
"How long has she been missing?" Momma asked Dom, changing the subject.
He didn't look at her, carefully packing away the picture into his chest plates. "She's been missing for about ten years. I will find her one day."
Momma gave him a smile. "Of course you will, sweetie." I blinked, not believing she had just called him 'sweetie'. Dom didn't look like he minded however. "I'll be praying for the pair of you."
That threw him for a second. I was used to Momma's insistence on religion, but even after all these years it still may me feel uncomfortable. Dom looked lost for a second, but quickly recovered. "I…thank you."
There was an awkward second, broken by a soft knock at the door. Dom shifted the slab of wood to the side, allowing Momma to greet the visitor. "Hello, there!" she called.
Whoever was at the door seemed surprised. "Evening, Ma'am," a familiar gruff voice answered, then paused, unsure of how to continue.
Sam evidently recognized the voice, and trotted out to greet him. The gear standing in the door ignored the shepherd, peering around Momma and into the shack. "Come on in, Marcus," I called. "Dom's in here."
Momma stopped him by placing her small hands on his chest plates. "Whoa, there," she said. "This place is about fit to burst. Let's move this party on outside, shall we?"
We vacated the small shack. Marcus' eyes immediately cut to Dom, asking a silent question. Dom shook his head slowly. It took me a second, but I realized Marcus was asking if he had found Maria.
"Hey, Marcus," I greeted him. "This is Momma." His blue eyes flickered to Momma's face, where she smiled and held her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Marcus."
Marcus shifted his gun to the side so he could return the gesture. He examined her with his probing eyes, looking slightly out of his depth. "Nice to meet you…Momma," he said. He looked over at me, and that reminded me of something.
"You said you needed to speak to me and Dom about something important?" I asked him.
He let out a slow breath of air, giving Momma one last searching look. "Never mind," he gruffed, adjusting his lancer.
It was quiet for a moment while we all tried to think of something to say. Sam was the only one not affected by the uncomfortable atmosphere; going to town on the same piece of jerky. She's shake it hard and then swipe at it with her paws, never letting go of her death-grip. I watched her for a second, until a menacing raucous bark of laughter caught my attention.
It was Jed, another camp member who enjoyed making trouble. He was dirty and grimy- not exactly a rarity around here- and was smoking a cheroot cigar. He grinned widely at us, putting on display his black and rotted teeth. "Well I'll be damned," he called out to us, catching the attention of those surrounding us. "We got a fuckin' celebrity here tonight!"
It was quiet while the members of the camp tried to figure out what he meant. "What are you on about, Jed?" I asked.
He took another swig of moonshine, wiping a drop off of his lips before continuing. "Well now, don't tell me you didn't see it! We got Sergeant Marcus Fucking Fenix with us!"
I froze, my mind whirling. Marcus Fenix? The Marcus Fenix? The deserter? The savior?
…The traitor?
Numbly, I saw Dom start for Jed, but Marcus grabbed his neck plate and pulled him backwards. "Yeah," Marcus said in his low, gravelly voice. "What's it to you?"
Jed grinned widely. Dangerously. "Well, now, let me be the first to welcome you to our humble abode, Sergeant Fenix. It's been an honor." The camp around us was silent, wondering what was going to happen next. Jed stood, holding his arms out wide, "What? Don't tell me you don't recognize this asshole! Let me paint the picture for you, then. Ten years after E-day, them grub assholes' knocking on the COG's capital, Ephyra. Only thing between the locust and hundreds of people is the Hammer of Dawn." He paused, enjoying the lime-light, and pointed an accusing finger at Marcus. "And this asshole here, dicks around, and fucks off with the targeting system!"
Marcus wasn't moving, just watching Jed with those mad-dog eyes. Yeah, my mind whispered to me erratically. That's what his eyes remind me off. The crystal-clear blue of junkyard dogs who'd just as soon rip your throat out than look at you.
Jed continued his tirade. "Not only does he leave the battle with the Hammer's targeting system, he goes to save his precious daddy. Professor Adam Fenix. But he couldn't even do that right, now could he?"
"No," Marcus answered him. "I couldn't."
I blinked. Professor Adam Fenix was the creator of the Hammer of Dawn, the machine that had slaughtered the majority of the human race. Everybody here knew his name.
Everybody here had lost loved ones because of that asshole.
"Ain't that right," Jed continued. "Only fitting, I think. God only knows how many people perished that day." His dark eyes went flat black. "Including my brother."
Nobody answered him, and Jed chuckled once without humor. "You know, I could only pray that they'd put two between your eyes for what you did. But did they? Hell no, not to the COG's golden child! Instead, they dump your sorry ass in prison for forty years! Serves four, and is now running around with his own squad." He cut his eyes to Dom, the only other gear within sight. "Tell me, how does it feel knowing you're serving with a traitor?"
Whatever Jed was expecting, it wasn't what happened. Dom grabbed a hold of his collar and shoved him against the nearest crumbling shack. "He is twice the man you will ever be!" Dom growled in his face. Jed's eyes grew wide for a second; six-feet, two-inches of pissed off gear is still six-feet two-inches of pissed off gear.
He chuckled, despite stile being pressed to the brick wall by Dom's muscular frame. "Yeah, that's right. Ignore the truth. That's always been the COG's way!" He maneuvered an arm out from underneath Dom. "Like the truth that that piece of shit is a murderer!"
"Dom!" I barked before Marcus could. "For fucks sake, put him down!"
Dom hesitated, glaring angrily at Jed and shoving him into the wall before finally dropping him. Jed stumbled once, but quickly regained his footing. I placed myself between them; this time facing the two gears, with my back to the mass of stunned Stranded. "What the hell is you problem?" I spat at Dom.
"Aw, you can't be serious!" Dom said, incredulously. "You think I'm gonna sit here and let him spout that shit about Marcus?"Marcus, silent until then, spoke up. "Dom, it's okay. I didn't get my feelings hurt." Marcus' eyes searched my own, probably wondering if I even knew what the whole fight was about.
The world fell silent as I observed Marcus with new eyes. I tried to merge the traitor from the horror stories with the man I had met only days ago. The man who had already saved my life more than once.
"You fucked up," I informed him. "But I'm sure you know that. Seems to me that it's who you are now, and what you do now, that's important." I realized that the reason he was so disinclined to abandon me after our less than graceful meeting at New Hope was that he had probably abandoned enough people to their death's for his conscience to allow one more. "I'm with you on this mission, if you want me there."
After all, we all had things we regretted.
Marcus appraised me with shadowed eyes. He nodded once, and the people around us relaxed. Jed stormed off, muttering a few choice words. The crowd that had amassed during the brawl disbanded, leaving me alone with Momma and the two gears.
"Well, now," Momma said. "That was interesting. I've got things to attend to, so if you'll excuse me." She left, leaving Sam with me.
It was silent for a while, all of us trying to come to terms with what had just happened. Something between the three of us had shifted, and nobody was quite sure what.
Cole finally broke the tension, showing up with his gaggle of adoring fans. "Hey 83!" some voice rang out, "Go over that game with the sharks!"
Cole's booming voice rang out. "Man, that game was a bear! Even for the Cole Train!"
Dom, Marcus, and I all turned to see the crowd of people, Cole's head rising far above the rest. Cole caught sight of us, and finagled his way through the throng of people. "Hold up, baby!" he said to his fans. "Gotta go check in."
He made his way over to us, and searched our faces for some clue as to what happened. "Yo, boss man. Everything cool? Where's Damon?"
"Baird's fine," Marcus said coolly. "Just had a confrontation with some of the natives. Go enjoy yourself."
"Alright, baby. If you're sure." He shot me a wink, poking me in the side. "Man, I had some of that stew of yours earlier! How y'all so skinny, eating like that?"
I grinned, not saying a word. Truth was, that was the only meal many would eat today. Cole had also eaten about four times the normal serving of a Stranded man. "Well," I said to the group of gears. "If you guys are done with the drama, I'm going to go get something to eat. Stew's over in the kitchens, feel free to help yourself."
There was about half a cauldron of stew left. I filled two bowls, and grabbed half a loaf of the grainy, slightly nutty bread that was made at the camp. I searched the camp, finally finding Baird next to the river, kicking small stones into the murky depths.
"Hey," I said as a warning as I approached his blind side. These days, if you startled someone you could be looking down a barrel before you knew what was happening.
"You selling cookies or something?" he groused, tucking something mechanical back into his pockets.
I snorted, "Yeah, give me all your money and I'll burn it to keep warm." Money was meaningless nowadays. I could still remember the time when it meant something, but we were a barter economy now. A few foil-wrapped ration bars could go a long way.
He didn't tell me to leave, which was a start. I held out the bowl of stew invitingly. "Here. I brought you dinner."
He gave the bowl a derisive look. "If I ate that, I'd be shitting myself for months."
"Whatever," I said indifferently, giving a slight shrug. "Starve. I'm sure Sam will enjoy your share."
His eyes rested on my face for a long beat, before snorting and taking the bowl from my hands. I gave him a third of the bread as well, keeping a third for myself and tossing the remainder to Sam. She caught it midair, and slunk away to the bushes to enjoy her meal in peace.
I sat on the river bank, watching the stars appear one at a time. After a minute Baird joined me, sighing as the bulk of metal armor he toted around all day settled into the ground beside me. For all his complaints, he tore into his meal, hinting he was hungrier than he let on.
We ate in silence, enjoying the grainy bread and thick stew. After a while I slowed in my efforts, thinking hard about something. "…Can I ask you something?"
He grunted. "Can you? Yes. Will I answer? Remains to be seen."
Earlier, this would have pissed me off. Instead, I gave a small smirk. "Alright, then. You know what Marcus did in the battle for Ephyra. Shit, the whole world does, or at least what is left."
He nodded, jaw working as he crunched on a crust of bread. "Yeah, I do. Your point?"
"My point is…does it bother you? Serving under him, knowing what he did?"
It was a long moment before he answered. "Well, if it did bother me, I wouldn't be here."
I nodded, mulling over his answer. I guess that made sense. And if everybody else trusted Marcus, I had no reason not to.
Something else occurred to me. "And what about me? Does it bother you working with me?"
He stood, stooping next to the river to rinse out his empty bowl. He poured the dirty water back into the river slowly, and its soft tinkling was the only sound for a long moment. "As I said; if it did, I wouldn't be here." He walked away, into the darkness, leaving me to chew over his answer.
Small camp fires crackled and hissed in the moonlight, throwing shadows on the shantytown. In the distance someone strummed an out-of-tune guitar, his soft voice rising with the smoke. It fit the peaceful gurgling of the river, I thought, and I found myself quietly humming along on the chorus. Some time later Sam returned to me, laying down and pressing her warm body against my legs. I gently combed my fingers through her thick hair, enjoying the softness of it against my hands. For once, the world was at peace.
It was a long time before I got up, rinsing out my bowl in the river and following Baird back to camp. The small smile stayed cemented on my face as I fell asleep that night, quickly and easily, pulled into the land of dreams and things best forgotten.
Author's Note- Well, here we are! Yet another chapter!
Huge thanks to rockforthecross74 for betaing this! If you're into Mass Effect of KotOR, go check out her two new stories, Who I Am Or Who I've Been and Duality Effect!
What did you think? Good? Bad? Ugly? Why was Marcus trying to have a conversation with Bri and Dom? Any ideas?
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