Am I doing something stupid?
Jet tugged down hard on his right hand arm guard. It still fit well, but of course it still fit, for Jet had not grown at all in the time that he had spent at Baskar. The perfect tightness of it was a reminder that he only had a short amount of time for him to get ready and go, or else the Maxwell Gang would get there and dispatch the monster before he had the chance to act. He could not think of himself as a member of that team anymore, not when Virginia had so gravely ordered him to stay behind. She could only command him if he was one of them, part of the so called team, so for now, Jet considered himself a rival of the Maxwell Gang, and if required, an enemy.
I probably am, but it's not like I can do much else. This is what I am built for.
He flicked his red and white shredded scarf over his shoulder now and looked at himself in a small mirror leaning against the wall. He was all geared up and ready to go. Jet self consciously loaded up his weapon while standing in front of the mirror, emptying one of his spare bullet clips into the gun and making sure the weapon was prepared and secure. Jet was positive that he could still use the thing, even if he had ceased drifting, he had not for a day forgotten the correct way to hone his spirit into his ARM. He had not forgotten the feel of the Airget-Lamh within his hands.
This is it.
This is who I am.
Grabbing his item pack he bolted for the door, slamming it closed behind him. The door rattled on its hinges once more and creaked open again, but Jet was too far away to notice or go back to fix it. He was running towards the boundaries of the village, still hearing the searing shouts and arguments coming from the council area. Halle and Shane were trying to calm them down without much success. It seemed like a second team comprised of Baskar hunters was getting ready to head on out.
Even on horseback Jet could not have hoped to catch up with Virginia and the others, as they had undoubtedly summoned horses of their own and had left at a thundering gallop for the mountains beyond the Fallen Sanctuary. Jet's brown stallion could match the pace of the other horses, but he doubted that he could manage to surpass them. Lombardia seemed like a good second option to the silver-haired android, she could easily fly him there on her vast metal wings, but there was a chance the others might notice him, soaring overhead.
But he still had his last resort. Slowing down, Jet stepped out into the wilderness for the first time in a long, long month, breathing heavily and trying to catch his breath. It was strange, usually he would not have been winded at all. Jet looked at the wooden bracelet he was wearing one more time, then dug into his inventory pack for an item he knew that he owned, something that himself and the other three had depended on in the past.
The teleport orb could bring him there in the twinkle of an eye. Why had the others not taken it with them? Virginia must have been too much in a rush, Jet considered, she had forgotten all about it. Well, he had not. The orb could only bring him as far as the Fallen Sanctuary, Jet knew, so after that he would have to hoof it on foot or rely on his horse. The boy was certain that he would be able to bypass the Maxwell Gang this way, hell, he would have enough spare time to beat up the monster and save the maiden, all before it was time for lunch.
His hands touched a smooth polished surface and he lifted the large red gem out of his inventory, marveling at how light it was, like it was a scarlet soap bubble made of air. If he pressed down too hard, would it pop? Unlikely, the orb felt like it was made of glass. The gem pulsed red along the outline of his fingers and hands, heating up.
It was time to fly.
"Fallen Sanctuary." Jet ordered decisively. "Take me there."
xxx
"It reminds me of the Den of Miasma." Clive muttered to his team leader, bringing up the rear of the hunting party. Virginia was ahead of him and in the middle, with Gallows bravely acting as the point. He had volunteered for that position himself. "But not quite as poisonous."
It had been an hour since they had left the boundaries of Baskar Colony. Now they were deep under the earth, creeping down into a grimed pungent tunnel and prepared for an attack, despite not even coming across a single random encounter since they had taken that first held their breath and dived in. Gallows was carrying a burning torch, made from a large stick of wood and bound with strips of rags that had used to be one of Virginia's old nightshirts. They had doused it in kerosene and lit it with the girl's tinder crest. It offered to them an ample amount of light to see by.
"It sure smells like the Den of Miasma." Gallows agreed, feeling the desire to hold his nose. He refrained because he needed a hand free to reach for his gun if it was required.
"Clive…" Virginia began, turning towards her friend who had his back to the others, walking backwards to prevent upon them a back attack. He was relying on Virginia or Gallows to alert him if he was to trip over a rock or bump into a wall. Clive tilted his head a little towards her, indicating that he was listening. "You're used to slaying big monsters. How do we know when we are getting close to its hideout?"
"Usually all tunnels lead into the big chamber that is called the den. Some take longer to get there than others, but sometimes an intelligent monster will dig tunnels that go in huge circles, to confuse any aggressors that would follow it. The best way to select the quickest route to the den is to use your instincts, Virginia. That is my advice. It seldom fails."
"You mean we should play 'Eeny meeny miney mo?'" Gallows snorted, placing a hand upon the wall of the tunnel and grimacing when green mossy slime peeled off onto his hands. It stung his skin slightly upon the touch.
"Well, to put it crudely, yes." Clive sweatdropped, adjusting his glasses. "Do not worry. There are three of us and only one of the monster. Even if we are forced to split up, I have faith that we possess the power to destroy it."
Gallows wiped his hand on his pants, leaving a green stain. "We would've had four if Jet had come along with us…" He murmured, going around a bend in the tunnel. He sensed that Virginia had stopped following him, and his assumption was proven correct when Clive accidentally bumped into her, making a short surprised noise at being stopped in his tracks. Was something wrong?
Virginia looked annoyed. "What would you have me do, Gallows?" She demanded. "Would you want me to put him back into the front lines, back into danger when we aren't even sure if he has healed yet? Something, anything could provoke him into a relapse of his…" She searched for a word. "His condition. If that were to happen, could you stand to have something like that on your conscience? I sure couldn't. Besides, did it look like Jet wanted to go?"
Thinking back to the council earlier in the morning, Gallows recalled the expression on Jet's face when he had grabbed his arm and had asked the boy whether he was coming with them to the hunt. It had looked weird, almost like the boy had been mildly frightened. It wasn't the look of a drifter at all, it had been the look of a scared young boy. Jet had not said to Gallows a simple; "I won't.", like the decision for him to go or not go was something that he could decide by himself, but instead he had whispered to the man; "I can't.", as if the act was far beyond his ability to perform. Had he changed that much in so short a time?
Gallows raised his hands in a gesture of submission and defense. "I'm not blaming you, Ginny!" He replied adamantly. "I'm just… thinking out loud."
The drifter leader sighed, deflating. "I know, Gallows. I'm sorry." She looked waxen and diminished in the underground torchlight. "It just has me edgy at the moment, is all. You know about how I feel." The look in Gallows' eyes told her that they did, but they did not say anything. It was not something that words could articulate.
Clive turned around, facing towards the front. He placed one hand upon Virginia's shoulder and pointed far in front of her and past Gallows, into the dark. "I can feel a touch of breeze coming from down this tunnel. Yet it moves at different intervals, so I am guessing that an intersection may be up ahead." He stated, voicing his observations over the conversation of Virginia and Gallows. He was still mindful that they were functioning under a time limit and that if they dallied too long the little girl that they were trying to save might wind up dead. Clive was impatiently trying to drive his team along without seeming to come off as pushy to them. Jet was important to him as well, but it was not Jet's life that was in direct danger right now, it was the life of the child instead.
"Hold on, I've got some spare torches here." Answered Gallows, passing his torch to Virginia and searching through his item pack for more. He procured two unlit torches of similar design and handed one to Clive. Ceremoniously they tipped their last few drops of kerosene onto the cloth that both men had selected, Clive using a largish white handkerchief whilst Gallows had secretly settled for an old pair of his socks. It was okay, the chemical smell of the kerosene blocked out the scent of any other possible odors. They touched the two unlit torches to the one wreathed in flame reverently, waiting for the lively flicker of the fire to be shared around.
They continued onwards, relying on Clive's personal assumption. The kiss of wind touched all three faces and they sighed at the gentle caress, smelling the rich deep minerals of the ground around them, in the rock and in the dirt. Just as the green-haired drifter had predicted, the fairly large tunnel they had been walking through split off into six different directions, some leading deeper down into the earth, others crawling upwards and far into the darkness ahead. One of them tilted sharply to the right. So, what were they to do now? Should they split up and cover half of the tunnels available, or should they methodically check each tunnel together as a team?
Time was of the essence, and so they selected the former option.
It was hard for Virginia to split her forces up even further after what she had done to Jet, but she believed that she had no choice. They would reach the monster's den three times faster in this way. Clive and Gallows vanished into the two tunnels furthest apart from one another, while Virginia elected one of the middle tunnels, the one that led deeper down into the earth. She had picked that one from the persistent breeze that blew through it, indicating possibly clean fresh air, or, more sinisterly, a large flying monster's movement. Along with that, she had a deep haunting sensation that this was where she was meant to go.
Eeny meeny miney mo?
Hey, why not?
Relying on her decision, she slipped inside.
xxx
A short amount of time had passed.
As Virginia was walking down the tunnel she had chosen, the torch smoldering in her hand, a foot from the shadows stuck itself out in front of her path and the girl walked into it, crying out briefly as she lost her balance and sailed straight down onto the floor, the torch hitting the ground and rolling out of her palm, resting on its side. Virginia uttered a low groan at meeting the ground so fast and so suddenly, mentally cursing the stalagmite or jutting piece of rock that had tripped her down.
She felt like she had skinned both of her knees. They burned as if she had drawn some of her own blood and the only reason she had not scraped both of her palms was because they were encased in smooth white gloves. The left side of her hip hurt slightly from where one of the holsters of her ARMs had dug into her flesh from the impact. It would probably leave a bruise.
Jet casually strode out of the shadow he had been standing in and obligingly picked the torch up from the floor, crouching down and looking at his rival squarely in the eye. Silver hair fell across his face and his brushed it away, tilting his head a little to see her better. "Sorry about that." He chuckled, not sorry in the least. "I didn't see you there. I guess I'll just take this torch now, shouldn't I?"
Virginia pushed herself up with her arms and looked up at the person who was talking to her. How odd, he seemed to be a lot taller from her particular vantage point. She had not even considered that he had been the one to trip her down, let alone what he was doing here in the first place. He was meant to be back in Baskar, recovering. She had made sure that it would be that way. "Jet…" She said softly, surprised. "How did you get here? How did you get in here without any light?"
"I walked a little faster. You didn't see me close behind you." Jet answered cryptically, for a moment remembering that weird seafood song he had been mulling over on the night he had awakened from his fall, three weeks ago. It touched upon him like a cold, familiar hand, then was swept away again. "As for the light, it was easy enough to get this far by using all my other senses, touch being the most important. But I'm planning on going deeper inside now, so I need your torch."
The girl leant back and sat down on her knees. She felt a little better at talking to Jet in this position, without him towering over her. Jet had not answered the first part of her question, but with the impishly condesending look in his eye as any guideline, she knew he wouldn't answer the question no matter how many times she badgered her. "Jet, please. You shouldn't be down here. You can't fight, you're too sick!"
Standing up, Jet regarded her with a look of exasperation mixed with disgust. Sourly he said; "Gee, well, that's news I ain't heard yet. You gotta realise that the one person who knows and understands that the most is me. Stop telling me stuff that I already know, it's annoying. And I can be wherever the hell I want to be, it's a free country." He sounded like a sulking teenager, but there was a force of conviction in his words which belied his age.
Virginia was now painfully aware that her torch, the item that she needed the most at this time was in the hands of the enemy. She had to get it back somehow, even if she had to bargain with him. But most prominently, she was worried for him in here. What if he had another attack whilst deep down, miles in the dark? Nobody would be there to save him then. Jet claimed to be aware of this, so why? Why was he so recklessly putting his life on the line right in front of her? Was he intentionally trying to cause he pain?
She became aware that she had spoken before she had even thought about it. "If you die in the dark, Jet, what is that going to accomplish?"
He knew the answer but it was something that he couldn't say in words, mostly because it was confusing to him, but also because he would have to relinquish his pride and his sense of dignity to Virginia, who was one of the only people in the world who's opinion and perception meant the most to him. Of course he knew that he would accomplish nothing, but if he was fated to die down here, he would die respectfully as a drifter. As in life, so in death, as the saying was heard. He was afraid of becoming doomed to obscurity, if anything, he wanted to go out with a bang. Jet wanted to savour the taste of drifting while he still could, while it was still availiable to him.
And also, on a very deep and primal level in his flawed heart, Jet knew that this was to be his last flight.
He wanted to enjoy it.
Jet folded his arms carefully, mindful of not burning himself on the torch. "You worry too much." He stated in a bored tone of voice. "I am not going to die. Cut the crap already."
Leaping to her feet, Virginia had the almost unbearable urge to slap him across the face. Tears prickled her eyes, more of despair than of anger. Jet was so contrary, he lied whenever a weakness was about to be shown, and Virginia knew the difference between the truth and his farce. Gritting her teeth, she wished that the others were here as well, with her. Gallows and Clive might have been able to talk him out of this idiocy. "Don't you care about me at all?" She asked in a strained voice.
"No, not really." Jet said dully, staring blandly at the back of his palm. But then he make eye contact with her and she saw the confused, slightly frightened look in his eye, almost totally hidden by a layer of apathy. It said; "Of course I do. I… I just can't say it out loud. Don't make me say it out loud."
She was heartened by this, now becoming familiar to Jet's reflex-like act. He was trying to be a drifter so hard, too hard, that he had gone overboard. Virginia felt that Jet was aware of this as well, but he couldn't stop himself, not when he had already begun. Jet had his pride, and he was determined to be buried with it intact.
"You bastard." She said at last, abhorring him for his pig-headedness.
"Yup, that's me."
Virginia was glaring at him with something akin to hatred in her eyes. Jet was endeared to this particular side of her, so full of passion and fiery rage. She looked so beautiful, especially when she was angry. Grinning twistedly, Jet leant forward and cupped one hand against the side of her face, feeling the warm anger-flushed skin. Virginia was perfectly capable of breaking his arm now, easily, if she wanted to. But she didn't.
I'm sorry, Virginia. If you were me, you'd understand…
Jet enjoyed pissing her off, and this would be the piece de resistance. The silver-haired drifter was mindful to keep his relative distance from her but tilted his head forward enough to press his lips against hers, a languid, sarcastic, but strangely loving kiss, one that advertised Jet's affection for her by withholding any sincere warmth. He knew that when Virginia was a drifter and played it tough, she liked it this way. They usually saved the lovey-dovey stuff for later, when a day was not a matter of life or death.
As in life, so in death. Don't make me rot in that town of peace-freaks. I liked it there, but I was forgetting who I was.
He could feel Virginia's anger for him threefold within the kiss. It was wild. Eventually he pulled away and regarded her with a cheeky smirk for a second, before turning around and walking down the tunnel, to where he expected the monster den would be. Virginia's eyes were at his back, burning into him. "Sorry honey," He sung in the most syrupy sweet voice he could muster, "Let's do the rest once I kill the monster and save the girl. Have fun in the dark."
There was a familiar rustle of metal and Jet knew without turning around that Virginia had drawn both her ARMs on him. Jet stopped in his tracks. "Give me back that torch." She demanded in a hot, furious tone. "Give it back right now."
Of course conceding to that demand was out of the question. Jet's pride as a drifter was at stake. He smiled into his red and white scarf and bowed his head slightly, saying only a single word. "No." He knew she would not shoot him. He began to walk away again.
"I mean it, Jet Enduro!"
He left.
And he was right. She did not shoot him. She did not even try.