South Side of Jacinto
Seven Years After E-day
We can't stop them. We don't know where they came from. We don't know what they want. They don't even seem to want territory. All they do is kill. We can't even begin to negotiate with them, or work out their objectives, because we just don't know the first damn thing about them. Thant's not an enemy, Mr. Chairman. That's a monster.
-General Bardry Salaman, Chief of the COG defense staff.
Bri crouched behind the empty house, starving and alone. Hungry. So hungry.
It was her fifth day on the run, in as many days without food. She was cold, dirty, and sick from drinking tainted water.
She couldn't get access to COG rations because she had stupidly left her identification cards at Bane's apartment. That also meant she had to beware of checkpoints and gears, as she could be misconstrued as a Stranded. Truth was she was barely better than the Stranded; scraping out a living from the underside of the city.
Her first few days on the run had been hard. She put as much distance as possible between her and Bane; running as long as she could, walking when she couldn't. She'd exhausted herself, with no way to replenish that energy. With all her running over the past few days, her body had used up its' minuscule amount of fat storage. Soon, her body would begin to cannibalize itself, sacrificing muscles and organs as an energy source. If that continued, eventually her organs would begin to shut down, such as her heart, lungs, and liver. That was how people starved to death in today's Jacinto.
Bri wasn't aware of the danger her body was in; she just knew she was hungry. She had been crouched outside the house for about twenty minutes now. She had seen the owners leave, and now she was just waiting to make sure they wouldn't return and interrupt her.
She had waited long enough. Fear kept her feet rooted to the mossy ground, but her stomach was ready to claw its way up through her throat and ransack the house by itself.
It was time. She slowly got to her feet, staying crouched as her eyes frantically searched for anything that would reveal her. She walked quickly to the back of the house; already deciding that running would be too suspicious. The back door was locked, and the windows boarded up. She tugged at a loose board with her fingertips, ignoring the splinters that dug their way into her flesh. The board broke away with a resounding crack.
Not hesitating, she thrust her elbow into the pane of glass that had been protected by the semi-rotten wood. It took a second, but she finally managed to burst open the glass. She placed her hand through the broken pane, careful of the sharp shards of broken glass, and clicked the door unlocked. Quickly withdrawing her hand, she twisted the doorknob and opened the back door.
The door shut quietly behind her. She was in the kitchen, and she wasted no time searching the cabinets for food. She had found a loaf of bread in the first cabinet. She wanted to stuff the whole thing in her mouth at once, but she didn't have time. Flipping open her pack and dropping the bread in, she went back for more.
A key tumbled in the lock, and she froze, her hand in the cabinet. The door swung open, revealing a man and a woman. The group stared at each other, Bri breaking the silence first by turning around and sprinting out the back door.
"Hey!" the man exploded behind her, "Get back here! Guards! Somebody call the guards!"
She sprinted down the street, ignoring the curious looks of innocent bystanders. The man was still chasing after her, calling for the guards.
"Hey!" a new voice called after her. "Stop!" the sound of two pairs of metal boots chasing after her joined the noise of the street.
She turned down an alleyway, the canvas satchel beating against her thin legs. Her breath came in labored gasps as she exerted herself, running from the gears. The alleyway was dark and damp, the tall building on either side blocking out the filtered rays of the waning sunlight. She stumbled once over the broken pavement, and fell into an empty doorway, dragging her small body out of sight of the gears as she heard them go running past.
She lay in a crumpled heap, trying to regain her breath. She thought she was out of danger, until she heard the scraping of metal boots further down the alley.
"Hello?" a male voice called out to her, and she stiffened. "My name is Private Ace Martinez."
She almost snorted in derision, not believing that any one would waste their time helping her. She silently dragged her knees up to her chest, curling into the smallest ball possible, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't see her.
The footfalls grew closer, heavy thuds echoing at a measured pace. She strained to hear each step around the thumping of her heart. "Come on," the same voice - Ace - said. "Just come out here. My partner said you had kept running straight, it'd be pretty darn embarrassing if you proved me wrong."
She didn't answer, trying to calm her breathing so he wouldn't hear it. She shifted her weight on the wet pavement, rolling to her knees. She heard him kick at a trashcan, and she could imagine him looking behind it for her. She tried to gauge how far away he was, and if he would give up before he reached her hiding place.
"Look," his voice cajoled her. "I'm sure this whole thing is a misunderstanding. Come out, and we'll get this all figured out and squared away." She slowly got to her feet as his voice grew louder.
The footsteps came to a halt, seemingly standing mere feet away. She could hear him breathing, taking slow, sedate breaths. "All right," he said. "How about this-"
What he was about to propose, she never got to find out. She bolted out of the doorway like a spooked horse, churning her long, lithe legs under her. Her too-large shoes slapped against the pavement, and her breath came in an explosion of frantic pants.
She could feel Ace tear off after her, and she screwed her eyes shut as she sprinted away, knowing she'd never be able to outrun an able-bodied gear. She had almost reached the mouth of the alley when he caught up to her. He grabbed her around the waist, dragging her to a stop. He was careful with her, not wanting to harm her.
"No!" she cried out, fighting desperately against him. Stealing resources during war time was a capital crime - punishable by death. She kicked and scratched at him, flailing her limbs frantically in hopes of getting him to drop his hold.
"Hey, hey," he spoke to her in an even voice as he struggled to keep a hold of her. "Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down!"
Her energy failed quickly, as every twist and turn of her limbs required more and more energy. She was panting for breath, and her body betrayed her; the fight draining out of her much too quickly. Exhausted, she stopped trying to get away, going limp in his arms. There was a lull in activity as they both froze in place, wondering what the other would do.
Ace turned her around to face him, keeping a firm hand on her. She was skinny, and scared. He could see it in her wide brown eyes. His hands nearly encircled her waist, and her ribs and spine stood out of her skin like limbs of their own. He took a knee in front of her, and still was nearly as tall as her. She rested one hand protectively over her canvas satchel, trying to hide the dirty sack behind her small frame. "Look," she said, her voice tired and strained. "I'll give it back. I swear." She watched him, wondering what he was going to do. His hazel eyes watched her carefully, but not menacingly. His light brown hair was cropped short, but long enough to wave in the bit of wind that made its' way up the alley. His COG issued lancer rested on the wet pavement next to them, and the barrel of a longshot hung on his back, suspended there by a stiff strap.
He ran his eyes down her body, assessing her. Her clothes were torn, dirty, and ill fitting. Her stomach pulsed with each breath, and he could see the thumping of her heart in the pulse point in the crook of her neck. Her skin was wind-whipped and dark, covered with a thin film of dirt and grime. Her hand, outfitted with chipped and filthy fingernails, reached into her pack and pulled out a single loaf of bread. "Here, just take it and leave me alone!"
He eyed it once, then felt how his fingers almost encircled her entire waist. "Why don't you hold onto that," he suggested. "I'll make sure they're repaid."
Her long fingers tightened on the bread, making tiny indents. She looked as if he was lying to her, and would snatch it away from her as soon as she tried to take a bite. "I…" she started to say, then paused. Her mouth hardened, making a decision. "No," she spat. "I don't need your charity."
That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. Most people hoarded anything they came by; clothes, supplies, and most certainly food. There just wasn't enough around to be selfless. He deliberated half a second, then stood, letting go of her. She was free to run if she wished. Somehow, he didn't think she would. "It's not charity," he told her. "You're going to work for it. Think of it as…advanced payment."
Her leg backed up an inch, but she didn't bolt. She was doing a good job masking the fear in her expression, but Ace could still see it and it sickened him. She looked as if he had thrown her with the offer. Her eyes were curious, but cautious. Unlike so many beaten-down civilians, her eyes weren't sunk in and deadened, but bright and alive. They dominated her small face, and he found himself enraptured by them. There was something alive inside them, a fighting spirit that refused to dim, despite her rough life. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound fierce and dangerous, though her voice shook just a bit too much.
He shrugged. "I mean what I said. I don't waste my time with empty words. You can keep the bread, but you'll have to work for it."
This time she took a full step back, away from him, and he immediately regretted his words. Corruption was a common thing nowadays, and she probably thought he was hitting on her. He wasn't, not even a little. It sickened him the way some men talked about women, as if they were disposable sex toys. He gave her what he hoped passed for a reassuring smile. "What I mean is, I'm sure there are some toilets or something that need scrubbed back on base. You say you don't want charity? Here's a chance for you to earn an honest living, and stay fed doing it."
She thought that over, then must have found it acceptable because she relaxed slightly. Eyeing him cautiously, she slowly tore off a chunk of the bread and brought it to her mouth, never taking her eyes off him. She stuffed the bread into her dry mouth, trying not to look ravenous. She chewed quickly and hungrily, swallowing thickly. The bread made an odd sound when it hit her empty stomach.
He smiled as she ate, feeling relieved for some reason. He lifted his hand to his ear, informing his partner that he had found the culprit. Jace, his young partner, asked if he needed help taking her in. Ace had blithely told him that if a small girl could outrun him, he deserved to have his butt kicked. It was all in good fun; they had been friends ever since he could remember. They had gone through what passed for training nowadays together, and were more often then not tasked together for missions. Ace technically didn't belong to any squad, but that didn't mean there weren't the few gears he enjoyed more than others.
"Come on," Ace said to her. "We got some more chow back at HQ. I'm sure we can dig up some more clothes and whatnot for you too."
She nodded once, expression serious. "And I'll work it all off. Promise." Then, under her breath, so quiet he had to strain to hear, "Never thought I'd be promising anything to a fascist COG."
His lips twisted, bemused, but before he could answer there was a disturbance at the mouth of the alley. "Aww, shit, man," Jace's voice called. "She can't be more than ten! What, convicted felons before puberty?"
Her eyes narrowed. "I'm older than ten, asshole." Not sure by how much, but… she thought to herself.
Jace shrugged, meeting them halfway. "Yeah, okay. Like what, eleven, twelve?"
She stared blankly, and he realized she didn't know. "Let's just go with twelve, alright?" It wasn't like the two gears were that much older. Jace was only fifteen, the youngest the COG would take him. Ace was sixteen, having just celebrated a birthday. Although, 'celebrated' was an obtuse term; more like he'd casually happened to glance at a calendar and realize it was his birth date.
"Alright," Ace interrupted. "Still don't know your name."
"Call me Bri," she answered, and waited expectantly for their own names.
"Well, I already told you my name's Ace, and the real ugly bastard there is Jace Stratton."
Jace narrowed his eyes at him threateningly. "You know, one of these days you're going to catch a friendly round in the ass, and you won't have to look far to see who did it."
"Yeah, well, if I look like I give a damn, please tell me. I don't want to give off the wrong impression," Ace answered him, rolling his eyes at Bri like they were sharing a joke. She choked down a laugh, still stuffing the rest of the bread in her mouth as the headed off for the military base.
Yeah. She'd do alright here.
I woke early the next morning to the sound of arguing. I blinked, my thoughts still slightly muddled by sleep. I grabbed my sniper and headed out the door, only to return a heartbeat later to grab my lancer. I still wasn't used to carrying it. Sam trotted alongside me, ears perked and fur bristling just the slightest.
"That's bullshit!" Baird's voice exploded. I almost stopped walking, deciding it was too early to deal with the jerk. A cold front had moved in during the night, dropping the temperature by at least twenty degrees. I shivered and clenched my jacket tighter around my neck, waiting to see what would happen, and what 'bullshit' Baird was referring to.
"That's what you think!" another voice answered him. "Oh, no, it's no deal if you kill us all!"
I groaned, picking up the pace. I found Baird in the camp's center. Baird and another camp member were locked in a heated argument, drawing more and more observers every second. "Hey!" I bellowed. "What the hells going on here?"
The other camp member pointed angrily at Baird. "This asshole's tryin' to get us all killed!"
Baird pointed right back at him. "And this dumbass is going to kill all of you!"
I sighed thinly, feeling the urge to just slap 'em both with a time out. "Ok," I said. "Start at the beginning. Who did what first?"
Baird opened his mouth, but the man talked over him. "I was over here, minding my own business, working on the generators in time for this Frost-"
"Meaning he was slaughtering those machines. He's trying to fix the stator using aluminum wires, but you need the copper wires to complete the diode assembly change that changes electricity to AC to DC current that your curling iron can use." Baird snarled, looking really pissed off that someone would consider doing this to the generators.
My eyes glazed over as the camp member - Kevin - replied with something as equally boring and technical-sounding. I looked down at Sam and her golden brown eyes were watching me, as if to say, Do we really have to listen to this?
"Alright…" I hedged, not having a clue what they were arguing about. "Baird, can you understand why some might not be so eager to have you plod around in their equipment?"
His vivid blue eyes narrowed, and he huffed angrily. "But-" he started.
"No buts!" I interrupted. "And Kevin, can you understand that he might have been trying to help?"
He kicked at the ground with his boot, and mumbled something too quiet for me to hear. They looked like three-year-olds, chastised and still stewing angrily about the other stealing their toys. I thought about trying to make them hug, but figured it would probably get me shot. "See?" I said. "Was that so hard? Now where's the rest of Delta?"
Baird flicked his eyes up to my face. "Cole's with some old granny. Dom and Marcus are up by the gates."
Granny? I thought. Oh, great. He's with Momma. I murmured a goodbye, then took off for Momma's shack. The small crowd that had amassed during the spat dispersed, and Baird and Kevin got back to working on the generators together. Occasionally there was an insult here, a filthy word there, but for the most part they seemed to ignore each other's affiliates.
Cole was sitting outside Momma's shack with a bowl full of food and a crowd of people gathered around him. "It was the fourth quarter," I heard him say to the eager people. "We were down by a touchdown. Time was running out. The ball snapped off of the twenty yard line, and I turn to see it being thrown straight at me, beautiful throw. I catch it - Cole Train's never fumbled a ball - and sprint down the side of the field. I got linemen coming out of the woodwork, trying to derail the Train, baby! But you see, the Train's got a schedule to keep!"
He paused for breath, flashing a brilliant smile at the expectant crowd. This would be the highlight of their day; listening to an ex-superstar recite his golden years of a sport long dead. Cole didn't seem to mind, however. He looked like he enjoyed the attention, and he continued his saga. "I'm almost to the forty yard line, when this big mo-fo comes outta nowhere. He bigger than the Train, but not smarter!"
A snort interrupted him. "Bigger than you, 83? I don't believe it!"
Anyone else might have been bothered by the jarring disruption of their story. Cole took it in stride, laughing along with the crowd. "I mean it, Baby! This mother was a slab of beef with a side of growth hormones! But you see, you got to be fast with the Cole Train around."
"He tried to tackle me, bring down the Train and our hopes for winning the game. I got's some fancy footwork going, stepping around him. I keep running- fifty yard line, then our forty, thirty, twenty - when the same big-ass lineman is sneaking up behind me. I can hear him breathing, and his footsteps pounding the grass field. Endzone ain't ten yards away, and I'm trying to get my feet to move just a bit faster. I feel the exact moment when he leaps, trying to tackle me."
"But he don't know what I know. I jump at the exact second he leaped, and all of a sudden we're looking like a upside down 'T'! My boots land on this mo-fo's shoulder pads, and I ride him like a surfboard all the way into the end zone!" Cole finished with a flourish, holding his huge arms above his head in triumph.
"And the crowd goes wild!" I chanted, clapping and laughing along with the rest of the people. Cole hadn't noticed I was there, and he grinned widely when he saw me standing there.
"Hey, lil sis!" he called, getting to his feet. "Enjoy the show?"
"You know it!" I answered him lightheartedly. "But, one of these days you gotta tell me what 'Thrashball' is."
He winked at me, turning away to accept handshakes and 'congratulations' from the pleased audience members. I watched them bemusedly until I felt a presence at my back. I turned sharply, fingers dancing over my pistol, until I realized it was Momma.
She gave me a kind smile, pretending not to notice my instinctual reaction to someone sneaking up on my blind side. "Ah, Cole," she said in a fond voice. "He's a good one. Lot of bad out there, especially nowadays."
I just nodded once, not completely sure where she was planning on taking this. "My point is," she continued. "Make sure you know who it is you run around with. There's a couple people who'd light you up for no greater pleasure than to watch you burn."
"What do you mean?" I asked her.
She brushed the hair away from my shoulders, giving me a level look. "There's a lot of bad out there," she repeated. "Just tryin' to make sure you don't have to take more than your fair share."
"What's fair anymore?" I asked her. "Getting shot? Rape? Murder?" I shook my head. "I know what's out there. I've seen it, and so far I've been good at staying away from it. But this," I motioned to Cole, who was still chattering animatedly with a few camp members. "This is something good. Something meaningful." Something worthwhile, I thought to myself, but didn't voice it. I didn't want to have to explain that one.
"Alright," she acquiesced. "Just as you know what you're getting into here."
"Whoo!" Cole interrupted, coming up to us. "That was better than a pre-game inspiration speech! And I used to be good at those!"
I smiled, all the tension leaving the atmosphere immediately. Cole was good at that; alleviating nerves and fears, and getting people to calm down quickly. I guess that's why him and Baird were friends. Baird needed someone to act as an ambassador for the world. Otherwise, he'd probably end up getting punched in the face a heck of a lot more often.
"Hey," I said. "You probably already know each other, but Cole, this is Momma. Momma, this is Cole." This was - hopefully - my last round of introductions.
"It's a pleasure to meet the 'Cole Train'," Momma said politely, holding her hand out for him to shake.
Cole ignored her hand, instead sweeping her up in a bone-crushing hug. She yelped out of surprise, before relaxing into the hug and patting him awkwardly on the shoulder.
"Momma!" Cole repeated happily, setting her back on her feet. "Damn, lil sis, I thought you said you didn't have no family?"
"I-I don't," I stuttered, still stunned by Cole's actions. "She's not my mom."
"What?" Momma asked. "Of course I'm not! It's a nickname, sweetheart. I take care of people, and as a result, they started calling me 'Momma'. My own child died years ago." Her voice was strong, but I could detect the soft root of hidden pain. "My real name is Sheraya Byrne."
"Anyway," I said. "Where's Marcus and Dom? We should probably be getting ready to ship out."
"Ah, they're up at the gates, talking to the one dude we met coming in. Didn't look too happy, last I saw."
I nodded, walking off in that direction. "Alright, thanks. I'll see if I can head Dix off. Go back and check on Baird, alright? He ain't too happy either…"
Cole waved me off, and I started jogging towards the front gate. I could see my breath in little clouds in front of me, it was that cold. Dix seemed to be arguing with Marcus about something, but it hadn't come to blows, at least not yet. What is it about cold weather that's got everybody's panties in a bunch?
"No!" Dix said, apparently protesting something Marcus had proposed. "You go that way, you're gonna get killed. Follow the river, that's the safe bet."
"This way's faster," Marcus countered, tracing a path on an outdated and time-eaten map. Dix's narrowed eyes followed his finger, and he shook his head again.
"You go that way, you'll run into countless problems- and grubs. We've got men stationed up the river to protect it from grubs. They know you're coming now. It takes longer, but you won't be dodging bullets the whole way up. You wanna find this 'Nexus', that's the way to do it."
"He's right, Marcus," I said, entering the conversation. The three men turned, surprised to see me there. "It's safer. That's the way we need to go."
"Alright," Marcus gruffed, rolling up the map. Somehow, he made it seem like it wasn't an act of defeat. "It's decided, then."
Dix turned away from Marcus, keeping a noticeable distance between them. "Yeah, yeah," he quipped. "The sooner I have you assholes outta my hair, the better."
"Alright then," Marcus said. "We're gone. Where's Cole and Baird?"
"They're over by the river, last I saw." I expected Marcus and Dom to leave and go after them, but Marcus just lifted a finger to his ear and called for them over his comm-unit. Cool, I thought.
There was an awkward pause while we waited for Cole and Baird to show. Dix kept shooting furtive looks my way, which I was trying to ignore the best I could. He was probably still pissed that I had taken liberties and brought the COG to his doorstep. I distracted myself by unwrapping a ration bar and feeding it to Sam.
Dom grunted, and my eyes flicked up to his face. He was watching Sam devour the bar, looking slightly ticked off. It took me a second, but I realized what his problem was. It was a COG issued ration bar that Sam was so obviously enjoying. I felt a pang of guilt, but quickly stuffed it away. So what? I thought, The COG's got these things coming out the wazoo. If they've got a problem with it, screw 'em.
"Hey, Boss Man!" Cole's familiar booming voice called. "We moving?"
Marcus grunted his assent. Baird still looked surly, glaring at anyone within eyeshot. His narrowed eyes rested on my face, and I crossed my eyes at him. "The fuck?" he said, and I stuck my tongue out. It probably wasn't the most mature thing to do, but it made me feel better. "You know," he said. "I bet if I hit you real hard on the back of the head, we can make your face stick like that. Wanna try?"
"You know," I shot back. "If you hit me real hard on the back of the head, I can make your testicles fall off. Wanna try?"
Dom's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. "Man," he said. "We gotta keep you around! You're the only one that can say stuff like that to him, and not get punched."
"Keep it up, and that might change," Baird groused.
Marcus and Dix were the only one not enjoying the jabs at Baird's expense. "I see we've employed the stand-up-comedian," Marcus said quietly. This immediately sobered us, although I wasn't exactly sure why. "Let's go," he said. "We got a lot of miles to cover before nightfall."
I adjusted the strap on my sniper, preparing to go retrieve the Centaur and move out. There was a sigh to my left, and Dix called, "Hey, Bri?"
I gave Delta one last look before turning and heading Dix's request. "What's up?" I asked, stopping a few feet from him.
He sighed heavily, crossing his strong arms across his chest, and leaned against the brick wall at his back. "Listen," he said. "I know you've got some vendetta, some freedom-fighter complex that you need to keep. I get it, I really do. I understand you're need to kill every God damn grub in sight. I felt the same way after I watched my brothers die. But, Bri," he pleaded, his dark eyes searching my own. "You don't have to do this. You really don't."
This threw me. "You think…a vendetta?" I sputtered.
He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face tiredly. "Whatever you wanna call it. You go out on these missions, and each time I watch you leave, not knowing if it'll be the one you don't walk away from. You've been lucky up till now, but this one is different. You've never hung around with the gears you trailed, and you never actively searched out grubs. I just…I don't wanna see you get hurt."
"You don't have to protect me!" I snapped, a swell of anger building in my chest. I didn't need anyone's protection! Didn't anyone understand that? The last person who tried to protect me died because of it. I would never let that happen again!
He sensed the change in my voice, and stood taller. "Is that what you think?" he sparked, eyes narrowing and jaw hardening. "Everyone in this camp is under my protection. I alone am responsible to protect these people." He made a wide sweeping motion with his arms, indicating the camp. "All the women and girls running from the birthing farms. All the men and boys who refuse to fight for a government who sees civilians as dispensable. And you, Bri," he snapped, leaning forward. "I'm responsible for you. I promised Dizzy I'd keep you safe. When you came here, you were alone and had no idea how to survive on the outside. You needed someone to protect you then. And you need someone to protect you from yourself, now."
I opened my mouth to retort back, when a footstep interrupted me. It was Baird. "Come on," he snapped at me. "I realize you're a woman, but I'd appreciate it if you would be on time. Promise you, the makeup's not going to help."
I could have snapped back at him, probably a 'guess you'd know that from experience', but I didn't. I flashed Dix a look, then snapped my fingers for Sam to follow. "Fine,' I said to Baird. "Let's just go."
"You don't have to do this!" Dix called after me. I almost kept walking, but Baird decided to get involved.
"Do what?" he asked. "Do more than sit the war out with their thumb up their ass? Do more than steal COG resources in wartime? Do more than sit back and watch the grubs destroy Sera?"
Dix snarled at him. "Screw off, man," he growled. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know a shitload more than you do," Baird replied. "At least she's doing something!"
"Yeah, like blocking bullets! Don't try to spin this shit into gold! The only reason you assholes want her around is so the grubs have someone else to shoot at."
"Hey!" I snapped. "That's not true!" I said it with such venom and certainty that left no doubt as to what I thought of Dix's idea. But, there was still the nagging voice of doubt in the back of my mind. Why was I going on this mission?
"It is true, Bri!" Dix said. "Quit kidding yourself. You're Stranded, and that's all you'll ever be to this COG scum!"
I think the last person to expect Baird's fist to go flying into Dix's jaw was Baird himself. They were suddenly on the ground, punching and kicking for all they were worth. "Hey!" I yelled, trying to get their attention. Dix wasn't small, but he wasn't a gear either. Baird had a couple inches and a lot of muscle on him. The rest of Delta, who, up till now, had been standing too far away to hear the conversation, reacted.
Cole dragged Baird away from Dix. "Hold up there, Baby," he said, having a hell of a time keeping his arms in a vice grip around Baird's chest.
Dix sprang off the ground, wiping a thin trickle of blood away from his mouth. "What the hell?" he spat, but didn't go after him.
"Baird!" Marcus barked. "Stand down!" His 'sergeant voice' calmed Baird down more than anything else would. Baird shrugged Cole off and readjusted his chest plates.
"COG asshole!" Dix snapped. "Get the hell out of my camp!"
Marcus shot him a cool look. "Guess we've worn out our welcome. Cole, go with Baird and get the Centaur. We'll meet you at the rear gates."
Dom rested a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Truth was, my head was still spinning. I kept trying to figure out what had set Baird off, but I just couldn't. Maybe it had been the whole morning; tensions had been running hot all day, and it took something stupid like this for him to lose it. "I'm fine," I reassured Dom, then went to check on Dix.
He pressed a hand to his jaw, winced, then spat a mouthful of blood. "I'm fine," he cut me off before I could ask.
There was an awkward pause where neither of us knew what to say. He sighed. "Bri…" he started.
"You coming?" Dom called. I turned and saw that he and Marcus were already making their way down to the rear gates.
I waved once to let him know I heard. "Yeah, I'm coming," I hollered. I gave Dix one last searching look. "Hey, I'll be fine. I know you don't think so, but these guys…they're good guys. I'm coming back. I promise." Great. Another promise in two days, neither of them I knew if I'd be able to keep.
He nodded once, dismissing me. I jogged to catch up to Marcus and Dom, only looking back once. Dix was watching me with an unreadable expression, his eyes darker than usual. I might not see him, or anyone here, ever again. The thought was immediately sobering, and I felt the urge to turn around and say goodbye one more time. But Dix had already turned away; a quiet force that would take on Hell and win. There was an immeasurable gulf between us, one that only widened with each step I took towards Nexus.
Author's note- Oh, Baird. Biting off a bit much, aren't we?
Thanks for reading! Now, just wanted to do a bit of a 'disclaimer' kind of thing...
I know many of you are getting impatient, and want me to hurry with the 'Big Reveal'. All I have to say, it is coming! Soon! Like, in another three chapters! :D I've got it timed out, so please, please, please bare with me! We're almost there, I promise. There's a reason I'm taking so much time setting this up, dragging you through Jacinto and the Stranded camp. You'll thank me later. (At least, I hope you do!) The plot is beginning to culminate, and I think my beta reader put it best when she said, "The plot's really building up, and I can tell. Jeez, now there's going to be in-team drama, personal doubts with Bri, Marcus' suspicion concerning Bri and Dom, Baird's reflections on whether or not that punch meant something, BRI'S reflections on whether or not that punch meant something, Cole trying to ease everything up with humor, all while they're fighting an endless crapload of Locust. It's like a really really really epic and addicting soap opera with lots of guns, explosions, and miscellaneous apocalypse stuff!"
Oh, and, thanks to rockforthecross74 for betaing this! Hope you don't mind me quoting you! (And really, thanks for the rush order on this! I really appreciate it! :D)
(On a sidenote, thanks to my friend Jourdan for coming up with 'Kevin's' name. Told you I'd give credit! Now, I can tell if you really read this chapter or not! Muhaha! :D)
And so, one more thing. For those of you who don't know, today is my birthday! (Yay!) Now, please give me a present by reviewing? Every one who reviews gets a preview of the next chapter!
