The Rabbit and the Wolfe
So…it's been two months since my last update. Though I am sorry it took so long, I wanted to take my time on this one. After all, I like to put maximum effort (Deadpool, anyone?) into my work. And you all know I will never give you guys and gals crap. I care too much about this fanfic to ever do that. Plus, I have read a lot of bad stories on here (improper grammar, poor punctuation, repetitive sentence structure, etc.) and I know how frustrating it can be to slog through them. I hope this chapter lives up to my other work and can ease the wait time till the next one. You can always PM me suggestions and predictions, if you so desire. Don't forget to favorite, follow and review! I always enjoy hearing what you have to say.
Alright. That's enough chatter. I'll clear the coms so you can get what you came here for.
Possible trigger for attempted rape in this chapter. The beginning and end have been marked, so read with abandon till you hit the bold letters. After that, read with caution.
16: A Shattering Reunion
December 25, 2561
Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute
Epsilon Eridani System
0210 hours
Linda cursed under her breath as another round found its mark, splitting the soldier's skull in two. There were two things the sniper hated when operating in combat: inefficiency and obstruction of her shot. Her current predicament was rife with both. With all the chaos below she needed to time her shots perfectly, a frustrating balance when racing against the clock. There was no margin of error. A moment of hesitation could mean the difference between hitting her target and accidentally killing a noncombatant. A miss like that would haunt her forever. But she never missed. Digging her boots into the polycrete supporting her, Linda relaxed into her rifle and squeezed the trigger. The Front soldier never stood a chance as the round punched through their chest, leaving only a large, dark stain to mark where they took their last breath.
There was nothing more terrifying than the crack of a sniper rifle in the dead of night. There was no warning and no place was safe. A flash of gold was all that separated the living from the cold corpses that littered the streets. She switched to her next target, rapidly cycling the bolt, her reticle falling squarely on their skull. With a twitch of her finger another life was snuffed out. No hesitation. No mercy. Though her armor's subsystems kept track of her kills for accurate after-action reports, she had long stopped counting. To her, every target was just another target.
BOOM!
The first shell detonated with an unexpected ferocity, causing her perch to sway wildly. Gripping her rifle with one hand, she kicked her thrusters into action, giving that extra burst of speed needed to grab one of the support cables. The hell was that?! Payload's too large for a grenade or rocket. Must be heavy armor. But how could they move tonnage like that within the city unnoticed? Another shell rocketed into the side of the building, sending a mountain of rubble and glass cascading into the streets below. The high-rise groaned painfully as its exposed skeleton swayed in the cold night wind. Then a third. Even over a dozen stories up, she spotted the barrel peeking out of a parking garage, glowing a sinister green in her night vision. Hauling herself back up, she ignored the entrenched behemoth, continuing to rain fire down upon the soldiers in the hospital even as her instincts screamed for her to face the bigger threat.
Three more soldiers fell to her expert skills, their movements sloppy and uncoordinated. Not her best, but considering the environment, it was satisfactory. Her fourth target was in sight, the man bobbing and weaving fervently in a desperate attempt to escape. Completely out in the open with an active sniper, they were either crazy or stupid, maybe both. The next shell hit the building violently, throwing off her aim. As she had done for each previous impact, Linda braced as the bone-jarring vibrations rumbled through her body, waiting for the tremors to lessen just enough for her to squeeze off another round. Only they didn't. Suddenly, the entire building lurched sideways, pressing Linda's organs into her back. The screech of twisting metal wailed in her ears like an angry banshee, rising above the deafening rumble of thousands of tons of glass, steel, and polycrete. Linda bounced off the falling chunks of metal and stone like a pinball, desperately hoping for an opening. She wasn't afraid of death, but being crushed by a skyscraper didn't seem like a pleasant way to go. There was always another mission. Someone always needed help. Like Megan. The thought startled her. What did her friend have to do with this? Or perhaps, more importantly, why now? Distracted, she almost missed the gap that opened up. Pulling Nornfang closer to her, she pushed her suit's thrusters to the max. Streaks of blue followed her every move as she weaved her way through the debris, eyes honed in on the hole with a razor focus. A mountain of dust fountained into the black sky as Linda blasted out of the debris. Spotting a neighboring roof, she thought it was a good a place to land as any. With her perch gone, she would have to go mobile once again. And without her height advantage, that tank was now her primary target. Unexpectedly, her jets seized up, subjecting her to the whims of gravity. She hit the roof hard, her legs buckling under the jarring impact. She skipped across the gravel surface like a stone across a lake before rolling to a stop, her rifle laying just a few meters away.
The dust was her only saving grace. Night vision couldn't penetrate and the tank wasn't equipped with thermal imaging. At least she hoped it wasn't. Not willing to take that chance, she refrained from the active camo in favor of a more direct approach. The extra heat the module put off would paint her clear as day to anyone with a household thermal camera. Pushing herself to her feet, she hadn't taken a step when pain exploded in the sniper's chest and neck. Broken rib, maybe two. Possible lumbar sprain or cracked vertebrae. Manageable. Her self-diagnosis over, the sniper took a few experimental breaths before jogging over and scooping up her rifle. If left untreated, the pain from her injuries could be debilitating, even immobilizing. But that was a concern for a later time. There were people counting on her. She switched her weapons, pushing the pain down as far as she could. The cloud swirled around her like a dense fog, but the waypoint on her HUD illuminated her destination. With a running start, she leapt into the air, easily clearing the gap between the roofs. Her boots turned gravel into powder as she hopped from building to building, never breaking her momentum. And just like that, she was out into the night air, completely exposed. She glanced behind her to see the last remnants of a once proud high-rise pulverize another building before disappearing into the cloud. Linda spotted a group of URF soldiers steadily advancing towards the debris, most likely a returning patrol. She quickly pulled a frag grenade from her belt and primed it. Her cover would be gone in a few seconds anyway. Hurling the explosive down into the street, she launched herself off the edge of the roof. The grenade detonated with a dull whump, tearing through armor like paper, throwing blood, dirt and chunks of pavement into the air. The soldiers' cries were swallowed by the last rumbling echoes as she opened up with her battle rifle.
The first burst caught the point man in the chest as he tried to stand. The second tore through another's shoulder, whipping him around. The following one punctured his neck and severed his spine. A third dropped when a trio of bursts turned his abdomen into gory confetti. Linda hit the pavement harder than she wanted, sending a sharp spike of pain from her damaged ribs. The remaining three members of the patrol didn't hesitate, opening fire on the wounded Spartan. She charged them as rounds hammered her shields, rapidly draining her reserves. The poor woman hadn't even emptied half a mag before Linda was upon her, driving a knee into the woman's pelvis. With a strangled cry, she dropped like a stone, the immense onslaught of pain sending her into shock. The scent of burnt ozone filled the air as the Spartan's shields flared then died with an audible pop. Her chest burned like napalm. Her breaths became shallow and rapid. Worst of all, it felt like her spine was slowly being pulled apart. Ignoring the pain, Linda brought her rifle to bear and put two bursts into another rebel's chest, sending him sprawling backwards. He died on the gore of his comrades.
"You bastard!" Venom dripped from every syllable as she fired madly at the Spartan with her M7. As the last remaining member of her squad, she would show this faceless, imperialist dog exactly what kind of death it deserved. As the magazine clicked empty, it was difficult to tell what surprised the recruit more: the fact that this machine had just ate sixty rounds without slowing or the knife that had firmly planted itself in her throat. Feebly, she grasped for the handle, her hands slick with blood. Her friends lay dead around her, slaughtered at the hands of a single enemy soldier. One! As the crimson liquid flowed from her windpipe, she could only watch on as this hulking monstrosity finished off her friend with a single burst to the head. Death took her soon after, where she took shelter under his tattered wing, united with her squad once more.
Sloppy. Reckless. Mendez would be disappointed. Refocus and re-engage. Linda chastised herself as she pulled her combat knife from the dead woman. What had made her abandon her superior position to go toe-to-toe with an entire squad? She had nothing to prove and no one to protect, save herself. Maneuvers like this were going to get her killed. Screw playing chicken with the odds! This was the last stupid mistake she would make on this op. Snarling at her suboptimal behavior, she activated her camouflage and faded like a ghost into the night.
"Spartan? Spartan, do you copy?" Sergeant Mathers voice broke into her thoughts as she crept down one of the hospital's many corridors, the flickering lights and sparking junctions doing an excellent job to break up the few optical patterns the camouflage system created. Linda took the opportunity to duck into a nearby alcove before responding.
"Go ahead, sergeant."
"Were sending a team into retrieve those civilians." The redhead brought up her map and overlaid the proposed path her unit would use. "Any roaches on our evening jog?" She marked several locations and made a couple of notes before sending it back along an encrypted channel.
"Avoid those locations and you're in the clear." Though these injuries weren't that severe by comparison, it would be nice to actually breathe deeply once and a while. She grunted painfully as her ribs shifted again, reminding her that they were still broken. She just hoped the bones wouldn't pierce something vital.
"A tank too?! Damn you guys work fast!" Turns out it only takes a few well-placed plasma grenades to render a Scorpion completely useless. "We'll be there soon." Mathers cut the channel, leaving the veteran in the empty hallway, quiet save for the soft din of failing electronics. Moving swiftly, the hallway spilled out into a large, open atrium, moonlight streaming in from the tall bay windows. Wind whistled through the bullet holes, Emese bathing the corpses in a soft, pale glow. But Linda wasn't here for the dead. Huddled in a corner were the civilians, scared and shivering, but otherwise no worse for wear. Finding her motion tracker clear of hostiles, she deactivated her camouflage.
"Is this everyone?" She called, announcing her presence. Save for a few startled yelps, the room was eerily silent. Whether it was her sudden presence, the trauma they endured, or both, nobody said a word. But they didn't have to. She could see it in their eyes. Linda frowned behind her helmet. Admiration. Always admiration. That stupid emotion was plastered on almost every civilian she came across and it never ceased to make her skin crawl. She hated it.
"N-no. No ma'am, it's not." A young boy in front spoke up, clearly intimidated. In the still quiet of the night, his voice was akin to the bellow of a Hunter. The sniper approached slowly, as one would a wounded animal.
She kneeled before him, trying to appear as unintimidating as possible. For a seven-foot walking, talking tank this was notoriously difficult. "Who else is here?" She asked in a softer tone, mentally cringing when it still sounded like a command. For once, Linda wished their youngest attaché was here. Sandra was much better with people, children in particular. "I'm here to help." She added, hopeful that it may help convince the boy.
"You are?" A nod. "Are the UNSC here to save us?" Another nod. He tapped two fingers together, looking between her and who she assumed to be the boy's father, seemingly trying to make up his mind about something. Her com chirped, drawing her attention momentarily: the militia team was just over a klick out.
"There was a dad and mom. They ran thataway. Some of the men chased them." He said finally, pointing to a door that led to another corridor. She growled under her breath. Damn civilians always complicated ops. But if this was the case, they were in danger. She couldn't wait for militia forces to arrive. Standing to her full height, the sniper addressed the crowd.
"Tribute militia will be here soon. Till then, keep your heads low and remain quiet. The route is clear but take no chances, understood?" She received a few nods from the most alert individuals. Not ideal, but it would have to do. Breaking into a run, she hailed the militia team on her coms.
"Corporal Malket. Go ahead, Spartan." To his credit, he kept his introduction calm and professional.
"I found the civilians, all unharmed. But you need to pick up your pace. I had to leave them."
He grunted, unamused. "Mind I ask why?"
"Multiple civilians are unaccounted for, actively being pursued by hostile forces."
A frustrated sigh. "Understood. Good luck." She killed the channel. If the boy's intel was accurate, there were at least two people she had to locate, and fast.
Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute
0230 hours
Megan ducked inside a dark alley to catch her breath. Kevin was right behind her, completely breathless. She wasn't faring much better, taking in huge gulps of air, trying to quench the depletion of oxygen that burned in her chest. The cold winter wind whipped around them, piercing their clothes like a knife. She rubbed her arms, puffs of carbon dioxide escaping her lips.
"Are you ok?" Kevin asked softly. Well, let's see here: my vacation is now a nightmare, I'm cold, dirty, hungry, I can barely sleep, but even when I do, I can't escape this horror we've found ourselves in! I've been shot at, shoved around, herded like sheep, have visions of you abandoning me, I don't know if my best friend is alive or dead and… oh yeah, this trip will haunt me till the day I die! But she held her tongue because, in truth, Kevin didn't deserve it. Any of it. The days were starting to take a toll on her.
She let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through the matted, sweaty locks. "I'm fine. Just tired." She felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. She leaned into his warmth, enjoying the moment. They would need to move soon, but would it be so bad just to just relax in his arms? "I just want all this to be over."
"I know, baby. I know." He responded, rubbing small, soothing circles on her back. "We'll get through this. Promise." She smiled into his chest, filled with love even as her body protested the dropping temperatures. "Come on, we need to get you someplace warmer."
"I don't know, you're pretty hot." She responded, giving him a smile despite the fact there was little to smile about. Truthfully, the tidbit of levity felt rough on her tongue. Guilt gnawed at the back of her brain, eating into her consciousness, fueled by the icy glares from the deceased. How could I say something so presumptuous? At a time like this?! She kicked herself, angry at her failure to maintain some courtesy for the dead. Kevin led her by the hand back out into the street, oblivious of the sour thoughts churning through his girl's head. The prattle of gunfire could be heard off in the distance, a hauntingly familiar sound that had become this city's beating heart for the past few weeks. With every round that was fired, every shell dropped, Tribute became that much blacker, darker, sinister. Even in daylight, the once vibrant heart of the city was choked with smoke and reeked of death. it had barely survived when the Covenant invaded during the war. One had to wonder if it would ever recover.
Kevin's feet had a mind of its own, somehow leading the two weary teachers to a hotel. The warm air of the lobby was a breath of relief for her chilled body, like wrapping oneself in a towel that had just come out of the dryer. Rubbing her arms to warm herself, she glanced about the room with a passing interest. Odd. There was no counter to greet guests, only a large holo panel on the far wall. Oaken furniture lined the luxurious room, their varnish gleaming in the soft ambiance. Exotic flora danced gently in warm air, adding a splash of color to the ocular palette.
"Well, it's certainly warm, I'll give em' that." Kevin said, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the floor. "A little over the top to be perfectly honest." He added in a mumble. Megan missed that, however, as she glared at the back of his skull. He had a jacket this whole time?! All I have is a bra and pants and he's running around in a JACKET?! I almost froze to death! Just as she opened her mouth to rip him a new one, she saw the reason why: most of the back had been ripped to shreds. Even if he did give her the coat, it wouldn't have done her much good. She swallowed the words but there was something she couldn't shake about his behavior. She shook her head. There would be time to think on this later, once she had some food in her stomach and a proper night's sleep.
"I think it's nice." Megan responded, running her hands through her matted hair attempting to smooth it out. The tangles proved too painful though and she carefully extracted her hands after just a few tugs. She just hoped the supply of water hadn't been damaged. She followed her partner to the display, her footsteps oddly muffled even on the marble floor. Most of the language was foreign to her, but she could pick out a word here and there. "Lotus?" She muttered, trying to piece together what was most likely the name of the establishment.
"There's an easier solution than just staring at it till your eyes pop out of your noggin." He piped up, dismissing her frown with a playful smile. With a few taps, the foreign language was translated into one they could both understand.
"Oh. Oh my." Megan floundered with her words embarrassedly as brilliant blush flooded her face. The entire display had changed. Gone were the news announcements and going rates. Now, a lotus decorated the screen… the petals entirely made up of naked females, the words 'Welcome to the Voluptuous Lotus' ghosted across the flower in a deep velvet red.
"Uh, wow. I, er, wasn't expecting… well that." He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"I don't think anybody does." Megan replied, unable to tear her gaze from the flower. Great, we manage to get out of the cold but find ourselves in a brothel. Oh my god, this is so embarrassing! She knows her face is as red as a tomato but she can't help it.
"Hey," He said, placing a hand on her back. "It could be worse." She shot him a glare.
"How?" She demanded.
"It could have been called the Pornucopia." A cheeky grin broke out on his face at his stupid pun.
"Just. Shut. Up." She groaned, burying her head in her hands.
Possible attempted rape trigger begins here. Continue with caution, as you have been warned.
"I don't know. It's kinda good." Both instructors whirled around at the sound of another voice. Stepping into the lush atrium were five individuals, every inch of exposed skin covered in tattoos. Megan felt herself shrink as they eyed her hungrily. She felt like an object; the newcomers believed her only worth came from her body. Panic raced down her spine and she had to bite her tongue to keep the frightened whimper at bay. She couldn't appear weak in front of them. The moment she did, they would go in for the kill. Obviously, they weren't UNSC, nor were they URF, as no markings or patches were displayed. That only left looters. Or gang members, neither one was an encouraging thought. "Date night is it?" A giant of a man spoke. No response. He frowned but continued on anyway. "I just love date night! So many options!" His posse chuckled behind him as Megan took a half step backward.
Kevin stepped between the gang and his girlfriend, fixing them with a wary glare. "What do you want?"
"Many things." The giant responded, smiling sadistically.
Kevin fought the urge to laugh at his vague response. That probably wouldn't end well. "Well, what do you want with us?"
"Isn't it obvious, you dumbass?" The sole female in the group spoke up, giving Megan a grin full of yellowed teeth. "We want your girl."
"Go to hell!" Kevin shouted through clenched teeth, pulling Megan in behind him. The brick wall of a man scowled, clearly not expecting the immediate rejection. The fear that had taken root in her spine began to spread. It was like the gymnasium all over again. Only this time Linda wouldn't be here to intervene. Linda if you're out there, help us. Please.
"My friends can be a bit…eager. Terribly sorry about that" He said, though the salacious smile plastered on his massive face indicated that he was anything but.
"Sorry?! Sorry?! You just threatened to kill me to get to her!" Megan silently thanked him for not using the 'r-word'. She still had nightmares about that incident in the gym. The man held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"Woah, woah, woah. We never said we'd kill ya. How 'bout a trade, hmm? That hot piece of ass behind you for your life. Pretty sweet deal, right?"
"You really aren't going to go through with this, are you?" Megan whispered behind him, silently shaking in terror. She watched his eyes dart between her and the group standing impatiently a few meters away. She knew that look. He was actually considering it! Emotions rolled through her body like a snowball tumbling down a hill, growing bigger and more uncontrollable with each passing second.
Megan couldn't see it but this was the only way. He could go find help. Be back before anything bad happened. Don't lie to yourself, his mind chided. But these men had guns. They would kill him right before her eyes and take her anyway. He would spare her of this trauma. He had to. But that didn't make it any easier. Turning to the mountain of a man, Kevin asked the question that was at the forefront of his mind: "How could I even trust you? I have no assurances that you won't just shoot me in the back."
"We could have capped yo' ass the second we stepped in 'ere." He responded, rapidly losing his patience. His mother always told him he had a short fuse. "Either take the deal or I allow miss maneater here to sink her claws into you." The woman licked a knife that she had pulled from her belt, the blade slicing a smooth incision into the oral muscle.
"The last guy screamed for hours." She said, the glint in her eye doing nothing to alleviate his growing unease. "It was delicious." Her lips curved into a vicious smile that sent his stomach churning. With some difficulty, he managed to swallow the chunk of lead that had lodged itself in his throat. Casting them one last wary glance, Kevin turned his full attention to his girl, who was seconds away from a meltdown of cosmic proportions. Her eyes, once bright as the sky on a cloudless, summer day, were now red and filled with tears. She gripped his shirt fiercely, as if his presence was the sole lifeline, bottom lip quivering uncontrollably with the immense assault of emotions that threatened to tear her to pieces.
"I'm going to get help." He reassured. "I'll be back. I promise."
"N-no. Don't leave me. You c-c-can't leave me." She whimpered, gripping his shirt so tightly her knuckles turned white. Tears flowed freely, tracing the subtle curves of her face. "We do everything, remember?" She pleaded, her voice on the brink of hysteria.
"I know," He responded softly, gently rubbing Megan's arms in a fruitless effort to soothe her. "But not this. This is something I must do myself." He pulled away, but held her at arm's length, looking into her shimmering blue eyes. "I'll be back before you know it." He leaned in, placing a soft kiss upon her head. "Be strong. I love you." And just like that he was gone: out of her arms and out of her life.
Megan was drowning. Drowning in the inky black sea of shock and bitter betrayal. She could see their mouths moving, arguing amongst themselves, but no sound reached her ears. The water was thick and oily, suffocating her air supply and submerging all other noise. She struggled to stay afloat, her head teetering the blue sky above and the blackness below. But even in those glimpses of sky, those moments of clarity, she was not free. Their feral grins and ribald looks haunted her as she dipped below the surface once again.
Four shots rang out, tearing through flesh and bone, briefly bringing the academic out of her devolving thoughts. The goliath of a man lay dead, the four expanding red blotches on his chest being the cause of his demise. His killer stood above, murder in his eyes. "Anybody else want to try for firsts?" He shouted sweeping his weapon over his fellow members. Nobody stepped forward. "Thought so. The rest of you can have my sloppy seconds." He remarked before turning towards the aqua-haired instructor. Megan willed her body to move, to escape. To do anything. But her muscles were noncompliant, outright refusing the commands of her brain.
Stepping into her personal space, he gave her a foul grin that made her skin crawl. His teeth were yellow and chipped, his gums blacker than tar. Her willpower was tested each time he opened his mouth, as it smelled worse than that time she found a dead rat decaying in a sewer. "We should go somewhere a little more…private. Don't want all these fancy rooms to go to waste, hmm?" Megan desperately wanted a shower, now more than ever.
Despite her past trauma, despite the man's overbearing presence, despite everything, she still had the courage to defy him. "N-no." She uttered meekly, still shaking. Hopefully, it wasn't noticeable to the dirty creep breathing down her neck. She blinked and she was on the floor, clutching her bloody nose. The man crouched down, yanking her up by her hair.
He sneered, leaning in close. "Listen here, you little whore! I was gonna be nice but you made me mad. See, I always get what I want. And your little tantrum? It just cost you everything." He kissed her forcefully, shoving his rough tongue into her mouth. She wanted to break away, to cleanse her palate-preferably with a strong acid-but every time she showed the slightest resistance he yanked harshly on her hair. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity in Hell, he broke away, leaving her sputtering and coughing. "Welcome to the rest of your life." He stood and started towards the lifts, uncaringly dragging her by her luscious locks as the others laughed and cheered until the lift mercifully sealed them in silence.
Megan felt powerless as she stood hunched over to ease the pain on her scalp. Here she was, a shy but intelligent young woman, about to be stripped of something she could never get back. Fragments of that day in the gym flickered before her eyes. She could feel the shadows multiply, rough, unwanted tongues exploring what she didn't give willingly. Only this time Linda isn't here to stop it, she thought bleakly, already feeling the pull of the oily black ocean. She idly watched the numbers climb as the lift sped towards her awaiting nightmare. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, eagerly spilling onto the rich carpet beneath her feet. Damn it, I wish I never came on this stupid vacation! But Kevin said he's come back. He's coming back, right? Right? The ensuing silence was like being stabbed with an energy sword. She wanted to cry, really let loose all the emotions that were whirling inside of her like a hurricane. She felt disgusted with herself for not being strong enough to fight this. Like a slap in the face, it hit her. The soldier's words from her dream: Not all fights are won through force.
She sank to her knees, pulling the gang member's attention from the doors. "What the hell are you doing?" He asked, giving her hair a nasty tug. She gave him the sweetest smile she could manage, despite her scalp feeling as if it was on fire.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" She responded knowingly. She felt nauseous just thinking about it, but staying alive was her top priority. It took him a few seconds to recognize the signs, but his eyes lit up when he finally caught on. He reached for his pants, but she put a hand on his arm. Still too far away. "Here. Let me." He let go of her hair, staring down at her with an almost comical indifference. She placed her hands on his waist, praying her hands would shake as much as possible. They didn't disappoint. After only a few seconds he swatted her hands away impatiently, muttering curses under his breath. Come on. Come on! Glancing as the numbers ticked off. Was it just her or was the elevator getting faster? Just as he got them down to his ankles, the elevator chimed, signaling it had arrived at the appropriate floor. Without hesitation she dropped onto her back, driving a heel up into his family jewels.
You can safely come back now.
His mouth silently opened and closed, like a fish out of water, but no sound came out. He dropped like a stone as his brain finally registered the absolute crippling pain, grunting weakly as his body hit the floor with a soft thud. Megan didn't waste any time. Scrambling to her feet, she took off in a run down the hall. Gold and crystal wall lamps illuminated her path like runway lights, passing by in a blur but still present enough to guide her. Where?! Where's the exit?! Her dread piling up every second she couldn't locate her goal. Her pulse picked up every time she rounded a corner. Panic filling her lungs at every dead end, at every door. She could understand the need for secrecy, but no marked exit? The thought was chilling. Dashing into another stairwell, she took them two at a time till she hit the bottom. Yanking the door open, she blindly fled through it, her throat raw from running?
She finally found the fucking thing. That stupid goddamn exit. Megan had never been happier to see a door in her life. Nestled between two miniature palm trees, tucked away behind a curtain. She should have been angry at the architect for thinking this was ever a good idea, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. She was finally out of this hotel from hell. She started giggling, unable to stop herself. Soon, those giggles broke into full blown hysterical laughter and she had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over. Her leg muscles ached, desperate for rest. She took fumbling steps forward, fits of giggles still breaking free from her lungs. So caught up in the moment, she never saw the pipe coming.
Pain. Pain was everywhere. It was pure, unadulterated agony, the likes of which she had never experienced before. Gone was the inky lake and the creeping fear, replaced by a blinding pain that tore through her body with complete abandon. A fierce wail hurtled from her lungs, shattering the quiet of the hall.
"That was for the nut shot, you bitch!" He spat, kicking her in the ribs for good measure. "See, first I was gonna take you up to a room, have some fun." He began, more to himself than anyone else. "But then you had to go and fuck it all up! Well guess what? You pissed me off. So, I think I'm gonna break you, slowly. Bone by fucking bone." He smiled sadistically as she writhed in pain, blood pouring from the broken skin onto the once pristine silver carpet.
But the instructor wasn't listening, her watery blue pools transfixed on the red fluid dripping from her fingers. Her breath came in short, rapid bursts as her brain fought to control impending shock of this most recent trauma. But there was something else that wasn't quite right. A white, jagged object jutted out at an odd angle. Her sluggish brain struggled to make sense of this new observation. What…what is that? She thought, her focus drifting in and out. Then it clicked. Is that…is that…my leg?! Oh my god! That's my freaking leg! Another scream, this one almost as deafening as the first, tore itself from her throat, drowning out the man's continued laughter. She felt sick. Here she was, bleeding out on the floor of some fancy brothel with a broken leg, about to die alone at the hands of some psycho. Karma was a funny thing. What did I ever do to deserve this? She slipped into unconsciousness, the blackness enshrouding her like a warm blanket.
Sector 13, Humanity Mall, Tribute
0300 hours
Linda had found two URF soldiers dead in the street, bludgeoned to death. How this couple managed to kill two decently trained soldiers was a mystery, but they were far from safe. Hundreds of Insurrectionist troops still patrolled these streets. She needed to find them. And fast. Without a waypoint or actionable intel, she relied on her ears, hoping they would not lead her astray. Nearby gunfire led her to a nondescript building nestled on a corner of a war-torn street. In fact, the only thing that made her stop and investigate was a cluster of potential hostiles illuminated by the ground floor lighting. She quietly entered, training her weapon on the group. She announced her presence, quickly cutting them down when they opened fire. That's when she heard the first scream. Ignoring the potential of additional hostiles-and her own rules-she smashed through a set of double doors, charging down the hall like a rampaging rhino.
As the second one pierces the air, she can't help but think there is something hauntingly familiar about it. She rounds a corner, her boots tearing through the lush carpet, her razor focus honed in on the lone assailant. Hot pain flares up from her injuries, but she pushes it down, refusing to slow. His head snaps towards the sniper, drawn by her noisy entry. He blanches. She gives him an emotionless smile behind her visor. Anyone would pale at half a ton of armor bearing down on them. She stopped on a dime, effortlessly picking up the man and tossing him down the hall. He was lucky she had a victim to attend to. Her heart froze as she took in the woman sprawled out upon the bloodied floor.
Megan? Linda stood stock still, stupefied at the sheer absurdity of it all. Her friend, her only friend was in the one place the veteran would never want to find her. The aqua-haired woman brought joy to children. A hell like this didn't suit her. The man groaned at the end of the hall, struggling to rise. A cold rage swept through her veins, freezing her other thoughts solid. Her fingers twitched by her side, eager to inflict pain, act upon her rage. It was obvious her friend needed medical attention, as the broken limb could easily hide other injuries. But it was the fact that this man-this monster-could do this to someone else sealed her decision. "Stay strong. I'll be quick." She spoke under her breath, stalking towards her target.
Clamping an armored gauntlet around his ankle, she swung him like a bat, slamming him into the wall. Linda frowned behind her visor, unsatisfied at the lack of snapping bones. She wanted him to feel everything. Repeatedly, the sniper slammed him into the floor, bringing the full force of a completely livid Spartan-II down upon him.
The sniper roughly rolled him over with her foot, her intense icy glare putting liquid oxygen to shame. Blood oozed from his nose and mouth, a testament to his pain tolerance. "Please. Show some mercy." He coughed out, speckling her tan armor with red droplets. She loomed over him, regarding him the same way one would a cockroach. Crouching beside him, she removed her helmet, ignoring the instinctual tug at the back of her mind. "Mercy?" She questioned, her voice cold and sharp. "Like you showed my friend when you broke her leg?" She quickly resealed her helmet, ignoring the bewildered look on the man's face. Linda recognized the signs of internal trauma; he wouldn't have much longer. She unclipped Nornfang in an angry flurry, firing a full clip into him. She stared at the gory, mangled remains impassively. Was it necessary? Not at all; A complete waste of ammunition. Satisfying? Immensely. As a soldier, she never took pleasure in her kills; it was all part of the job. But nobody hurt her friend and lived to tell the tale. Suddenly remembering her wounded charge, Linda quickly retraced her steps, reloading her rifle as she went.
She knelt down next to the comatose teacher, assessing her with a critical eye. While no Spartan II's were officially designated as 'medics', every one of them had received extensive medical training as part of their education. The young trainees had learned to treat dozens of different injuries, ranging from sprains to severed limbs. Over the decades, the sniper had patched herself up enough times that she could do it in her sleep. Broken leg, left. Both tibia and fibula. She thought, starting a mental checklist. Minor contusions, abrasions and lacerations. Pulse… She pressed two fingers to the pulse point on her neck, pulling her trauma kit free from its magnetic hardpoint with the other. Red brows shot up worriedly as her armor threw up the number on her HUD. 122 bpm. Hypovolemia, stage 3. Not good. She needed to stabilize her, fast. The break seemed to be mostly clean. Megan was lucky. Reaching behind her, the veteran yanked one of the silk curtains of its hangers, tearing a strip from the fine cloth. "Sorry." She whispered apologetically before tying the makeshift tourniquet tightly around her leg. Her patient whimpered groggily, sending a pang guilt through the redhead. Focus, Spartan.
Linda set the bones with a mathematical precision; her hands steadier than a rock. A sniper's hands couldn't shake. Not if she wanted to keep her team alive. The veteran apologized again as she injected the wound with biofoam and securely dressed it. A glacial spike of anger spread through her every time her friend flinched. Though the leg had been treated, the rest of her body was still at risk. She still needed oxygen and a blood transfusion. Polypseudomorphine would keep her sedated for the better part of a day, enough time to scavenge for additional rations and medical supplies. Surgery would be necessary, but that was still a long way off. It didn't take long to find the supplemental O2 tank. But the too small, just a temporary fix until evac arrived. But they were in the middle of enemy occupied territory any transport would likely be shot down. She liked Megan but was unwilling to place that many lives ahead of one individual, even if she was her only friend. The only remaining choices would be ground transport or walking. And Linda doubted the rough ride would do her friend any favors. So, walking it was. But not tonight.
Scooping Megan as gently into her arms as possible, the sniper made her way to the nearest door, kicking it open. The heavy oak splintered, her titanium boot knocking it askew. Stepping into the room, she laid her companion on the king sized four poster canopy bed, propping up her leg with a few of the many, many pillows littering the room. Her HUD chirped, signaling it had completed her request. She examined the medical chart, amending it with her observations and analysis. Jade daggers quickly found the information she wanted: their blood types were compatible. Relief flooded her, allowing her to breathe again. Now all she needed was the correct equipment. Casting one last look at her friend, she ducked out of the room in search of supplies.
Come Back Next Time!
Thank you all once again for being so patient with me! I know it's been nearly two months but, I wasn't sure what direction I wanted to take this chapter in. But I finally hit a roll last night and blew through the rest of this thing. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it (well, without all the writer's block)! Any comments or predictions would be appreciated. I always love hearing what everyone has to say. As always, don't forget to favorite, follow and review!
P.S. As I finish writing this chapter, I am going to see Avengers: Endgame. I ask you, as both a fanfiction writer and a fellow moviegoer, DON'T BE A DICK! Don't fucking spoil the movie for others. Think to yourself: would you want your favorite movie spoiled for you?
Peace out!
