- Ten: The Wake -


(Halo (c) Microsoft Studios, Bungie & related creators; Red vs. Blue (c) the Rooster Teeth team. Text (c) L.Q. Coverdale. Content includes mentions of death, violence and some inappropriate language.)


The corbies croaked and cawed in indulgence, toothed beaks laden with gore. They feasted like gods on the fallen, sharp teeth making short work of skin and bone to get at the juicy tissues beneath and within. Their black bodies littered the ground, scurrying about like feathered rats, occasionally fighting with each other for a tender piece of meat.

"MOM!"

The screech made the creatures perk their heads, cawing indignantly and launching into the air as the second-oldest Caboose ran to her mother. A few hovered and snapped angrily, not wanting to waste a perfectly good meal, but a swift backhand toward them quickly ceased their protest. Those that remained hopped over to the other corpses, continuing to pull and tear off bits as the remaining Cabooses ran back home.

Michaela Caboose frantically shook her mother's body. She was shaking, the otherwise tough, tomboyish young lady's eyes growing wet. "Mom! MOM! Mom, get up!" she cried, searching for something - anything - in her mother's glazed-over eyes. "Get up! Come on, Mom! MOM!"

"MOM!" cried Michelle, struggling to keep pace with her sister. However, her pace grew quicker as she saw Michaela trying to wake their mother. "MOM! What's wrong? Mom?"

Lavernius was the last to get to the remains of the Caboose house, which was now smoking and crackling from a fire in the storage cellar. He had slowed as he approached, feeling his breath hitch in his throat. The standard-issue armour of the UNSC was unmistakable, and heavy footprints from their built-in, titanium-toed boots were everywhere. There was a trail leading away from the carnage as well, not too far from where Carrie lay unresponsive. Looking around, he realized with cold horror that the rest of the younger Cabooses were nowhere in sight.

"MICHI!" screamed Lavernius, running full-tilt past the sobbing sisters and to where the battle had taken place. "MICA! MEEKAEL! YOU HERE? MICKEY? Oh, Jesus ... MICHA! MIKEY! Michaela, Michelle, get up! Where's your sisters?"

"Th-they were in th-the house ... " sobbed Michelle, white as a sheet as she gently laid her hands on her mother. "C'mon, Mom ... we gotta find the babies ... "

"Forget Mom!" cried Lavernius, running towards the smouldering house. "We have to make sure the others are okay! She's dead, Michelle!"


I just ... wanted to help Mom with the muffins ...

In the tall grasses far beyond the house, Michael Caboose lay curled in a ball. Blood smeared the exposed side of his head like a bad paint job, splattered onto the hem of his blue plaid, cotton shirt. His lower back was stained with a wide streak of red, a deep wound on one side and thinning as it scraped the spine on the way to the right. Numerous bruises also covered his body, and his blue eyes matched the swelling, blackened circles around them. The centre of his face oozed blood from a broken nose, and his eyes were so puffy, he could barely see.

Where is Sheila? Michael wondered faintly, his eyes moving upwards to look up at the slowly-darkening sky. I thought she would stay a bit longer ... I like Sheila ... And muffins ...

Shwish, shwip, crack went the nearby foliage. Michael managed to open his eyes a little wider at the sudden sound.

"... M-Michael?"

Slowly, Michael turned his head towards the timid voice. A small, blurry figure with his eyes and hair stood not too far from him, looking wary. She was breathing heavily, as if she had been running, and one knee was all red too. She must have somehow hurt herself while playing out in the fields. "... Mica?"

"MICHAEL!"

Michael winced, both at her shrill voice and at how she plowed into him in a tight, frightened embrace. Mica sobbed, clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly, her wails like a siren's in the otherwise quiet evening. Screwing his eyes shut, Michael said softly, "Mica ... " as he weakly placed a hand on her back. "Mica ... stop cr-crying ... you're hurting my head ... "

"M-M-Michael ... " Mica sniffed. Her youthful, round cheeks were flustered and wet; Michael hated seeing her cry. She was cute as a button, just like their mother when she was a baby girl too. "S-something ... s-something h-happened to Mom ... th-there were s-soldiers ... "

"Where's ... Mama?" Michael asked, trying to focus in on his sister as his vision began to swim. "Where ... where's Tucker ... and th'girls ... "

Mica only cried harder.


The cabin was an absolute mess. Bullet holes and scorch marks made for grim decor, the bodies of slain soldiers splattering blood like paint. Lavernius almost slipped on the fluid gore that oozed out of them, slamming his feet up the creaking, broken stairs that led to the upper floors. Timbers creaked, threatening to give, but Lavernius's mind was on a single track. Danger was forgot as he jumped across a part of the floor threatening to give, making it to the youngest of the girls' rooms.

Or at least, what had been their room. The entire place had caved in, and he could see the sky in-between scorched pieces of wood. Even worse was that nauseating smell, familiar and horrifying at the same time - cooked meat. Only, instead of the warm, welcoming smell of a baked turkey or chicken, it was the reek of human flesh. Lavernius gagged, but quickly composed himself as he heard either Michelle or Michaela come in below.

"LAVERNIUS!"

"UP HERE!" yelled the adolescent. "DON'T COME UP HERE! THE FLOOR'S TOO WEAK!" That, and he didn't want Michaela to see ... anything bad. Her room looked better as he peeked in, but it was completely ripped apart - comic books, toys and sheets were torn and stained. Lavernius ran in, searching frantically for any more survivors.

"GIRLS! Girls! Girls, where'd ya go?"

" ... Vern?"

Meekael's soft, shy voice came out from the nearby closet door. The door banged open as Lavernius threw it open haphazardly, Meekael staring up at him with tired, teary eyes. Her left arm was covered in a waxy burn, winding up from the hand right up to the shoulder. Lavernius stared helplessly.

"Meek!" he cried after a moment of standing, ramrod-stiff in shock. His arms wrapped around the girl tightly, protectively, and he scooped her out bridal-style. "Meekael, hold on! Your sisters are here, we'll get you some help!"

"Lotsa people ... " the girl murmured quietly, looking as if she were about to sleep. "Lotsa noise ... where'd Mama go ... ?"

"Meek, where's the others?" asked Lavernius, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he rushed towards the door. "Michi? Mickey? Anyone?"

"In the room ... " muttered Meekael. "They're stuck, Vern ... they can't get out ... "

"I'll dig them out, don't you worry," said Tucker quickly, heading for the staircase. By how much the floor was groaning in protest, he didn't have much time left before it went. How the hell had the soldiers been able to do so much damage? What had they called in, a bombing run? "Hold on, your big sisters are here. MICHELLE! MICHAELA!"


Michelle and Michaela held their sister, still sobbing as they stood outside their house. Despite their best efforts, they had found no other survivors, and some parts of the house were too rubble-stricken to be navigated. The entire cabin looked ready to cave in by then, and to try and dig through the weakened structure would be folly. With some clothes and non-perishables scavenged from the remains, the small group - Michaela carrying Meekael because the latter hurting badly - tried to centre themselves and think.

"W-we could go see M-Mr. Doc," said Michelle, wiping at her eyes with the back of one hand. "H-he always s-said we could g-go to h-him if s-something was wr-wr-wrong ... "

"B-but we need to find Michael too," said Michaela, taking a breath. "Or s-see if any of the g-girls managed to r-run. W-we c-can't s-split up ... "

"You won't have to," said Lavernius, voice firm yet quiet. He was trying to put on a brave face for the girls, but it was hard - he hadn't felt such a sense of loss since the war went on. "I'm taking you two to Doc's, and then, I'm coming back out here. Knowing the girls, some of them had to get away. They were always trying to run around under my feet when I had to round them up, remember?"

He forced a cocky smile. The girls nodded, but still looked sullen. Meekael looked to be sleeping peacefully, slumped against her eldest sister's chest.


It had been one of the few times he had ever called Carrie Caboose "Mom". The woman was more of a employer than a guardian, offering him shelter in exchange for being the big brother to her brood. Still, he had grown deeply attached, and had gladly accepted the generosity - if not a firm and uneasy sort of generosity at times - from the woman. She had ... issues. Lavernius understood, or at least tried to when Carrie was really, really "out there".

He had grown weary of the UNSC even before the incident. It had taken his mother, it swirled with rumours of heavy-handed tactics to keep peace during the war, and Lavernius had had certain run-ins with its personnel. After the death of most of the Caboose family, however, weariness turned to anger. In that anger, a white-hot spark of hatred was lit. The inevitable bonfire raged.

That fire, in time, would also aim itself for the inhabitants of Red Base Apartments. They had left Carrie to try and fend her cabin by herself, after all.