This was more than a little disappointing in terms of attention, but hey, what are you going to do. Gears of War is not an easy lore to write for. I just tried to make this as bleak and utterly hopeless as possible, and I think I did manage that. Well, thank you everyone who has been reading. I hope that you have liked. Cookies for reviews.

Chapter 6

Gospel didn't hear her babbles. He picked Jinx up by the collar and dragged her into better cover. Arnold did the same with Jacob. "They know we're here," he said. "We got to hit them now."

Gospel agreed. Three bunched fingers pointed to Jacob, Arnold, and the left flank. Arnold nodded, dragging Jacob along. Jinx was a quick study, she understood what was expected, she followed him, bouncing from cover to cover and stopped firing when he pushed her aim down. Arnold was engaging, shouting and cursing loudly, doing everything he could to get the Locust's attention.

The factory had fallen to decay, and to get in the Locust had demolished an entire wall. There were bits of rubble, some so big they couldn't be climbed over. They made perfect cover. Arnold hid, and poked his weapon out, spraying round after round, not aiming, but once or twice a lucky bullet hit one of the Drones, nothing fatal, but it was knocked to the haunches. The Locust were stupid creatures. They were so easily distracted, and completely forgot about Gospel since Arnold was now shooting back.

Gospel brought his fingers to his lips in a universal gesture of silence, before waving for Jinx to follow. They didn't sprint, but ran hunched over until they were at the walls, pressed against threshold of the factory's main door.

"We can't just leave Jacob," Jinx said.

Gospel pointed to the door.

"But."

He pointed again. He pulled a foot back and kicked the door in, rolling to a bit of cover, a conveyor belt. Of course, the Locust were there, waiting, and wave after wave of bullets vibrated into the steel. Gospel's face was the picture of calm, or perhaps a complete lack of emotion, as he leaned out slightly and put rounds into the Locust, popping out just long enough to put one down before retreating back.

When Jinx came beside him, he guided her rifle's muzzle over the edge. His hand found hers and he aided her in squeezing the trigger. Before long, he had leapt over the cover. Every time a Locust popped its head over the cover, hoping to attack Jinx when she was aiming in a different direction, it was met with a round. When his clip was empty and one of the Locust emerged from the cover, he revved his chainsaw, but a shotgun's burst to the gut was enough to knock him back. It was only Jinx, unloading her Hammerburst, that kept another buckshot from blowing off his head. Her aim was decent, she put bullets into the Drone, distracting him until Gospel could draw his pistol and finish him off. She helped Gospel to his feet, and a hand swept over his stomach, making sure that the armor had absorbed the dozens of little spread shells.

Jinx's hand retracted, embarrassed by the show of worry, a Stranded concerned for a fascist dog, it was disgusting. Gospel opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He settled for a hand on the shoulder and a smile. She really was pretty. A sort of whither in her form, malnourished, a pain in her eyes. Flaws by some people's standards, but they just made her more human. More natural. Her caramel skin. Her ebony hair. The strength to her features.

"Gospel," Arnold's voice called from the radio. "Front is secure, we'll be sweeping around the perimeter. The birds are on route. You've got ten minutes. Find the main control room and make a copy of the files, and if you see any gasoline, be sure to deck the halls."

Gospel sighed, putting his hand down. His Lancer was out of ammo, so he took up a Hammerburst and divided the extra clips between himself and Jinx.

"Sergeant Lopez told me some stuff. About you. About why you don't talk. Is it true. What you did to your parents."

Gospel dragged his left index finger over his throat, maintaining a calm, emotionless expression.

"Good. They had it coming. The world would be a better place if more people were brave like you."

"Maybe," Gospel whispered.

Jinx looked to him a moment, trying to figure out if she had just heard him speak. His mouth didn't move. His stride didn't change. After a few steps he looked back at her and gave a look that asked, "Are you coming?" Sighing, she followed after.

"Gospel, we got multiple Locust. God, there's a lot of them. Find the fucking files and get back out here."

The hallways were crowded. A Locust could set up at the thresholds and pour bullets down the chokepoints. Lacking cover, Gospel and Jinx would be cut down in moments. However, he didn't want to run. There were dangers to running, primarily the ease at being thrown off balance, and if a Berserker was wandering around the factory, he really didn't want to be surprised.

They reached a fork, a left way and a right, and Gospel gave Jinx a questioning look. "Uh…right, I guess," she said.

Gospel took her Hammerburst and looked it over. Seeing nothing wrong with it, he gave it back. He took the radio from his ear and offered it up. "No, what if you need to talk to Arnold." She shook her head. "Sorry."

He showed her how it worked, guiding her fingers to the transmitter, she shivered a bit in his grip. He didn't feel right about abandoning her, but they needed to find the central control room before the Ravens came down, or they were completely overwhelmed.

He wasn't sure if the room with the test tubes and beakers was the main control room, but there were several terminals that glowed brilliantly in the dank, barely lit room, highlighting the forms of the Drones that stood in front of them. They didn't hear the doorway as it opened, and Gospel didn't immediately engage the three; weary of damaging the precious machines. He had two grenades left on his belt. The fragmentation one would destroy the computer. The ink would choke the Drones. Rather than throw it, he rolled it over the ground. The Drones, attracted by the sound rattle of steel rumbling along, turned towards it.

Their first instinct, once the gas had filled the room, was to flee the cramped confines. He waited until all three were out. He bashed his rifle into one of them, and when it stumbled against the wall but didn't fall, he smacked it again. Gospel dropped to one knee, putting rounds into the second Drone, opening its chest in a shower of blood, one stray shot popped open its head. But it was the third one he couldn't handle fast enough, and it lifted its rifle and fired a burst.

Gospel's left arm went limp. He tried to lift his Hammerburst with his right, but another burst in the chest knocked him on his back. Just by chance his eyes gazed behind him, and he saw Jinx, standing there, spraying her entire clip into the confines of the hallway. But by simple volume, the Drone was put down.

"Your shoulder is broken," Jinx explained. "Armor took most of it, but the impact was still there."

Gospel stroked her cheek, as if to confirm she was real. She laughed. "I was nervous, going alone. I turned around after about a minute. Didn't think you would be the one needing saving."

"Thank you," he said.

She smiled again. "So you can talk?"

He shrugged. Tearing her shirt, she fashioned a crude sling and propped his arm up. Gospel held a cloth over his mouth to filter any residual ink as he worked on the computer. The interface was easy, so easy that even Drones could do it. They were already in the process of copying any important files onto several disks, which finished burning after a moment. He gathered them together and put them in a compartment in the gut of his armor where they would be safe. Another few strokes on the keyboard, and the files were wiped, but just for good measure, he attached every fragmentation grenade he could find on the Drone's bodies to the computers. Jinx rushed out of the room, hiding in the hallway with her hands in her ears. Gospel wasn't sure if what he did next was a good idea, but he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight, as if the shrapnel could somehow leave the room through the door, change trajectory, travel down the hallway and attack her. But she didn't seem to mind.

"Private Arnold," Jinx said, into her radio. "We have the copy."

"That's great ma'am. I guess I won't be dying in vain."

How, so deep in the compound, could Gospel possibly hear the explosion, feel the explosion, he didn't know, but he did. He went through the hallway, through the doors he had come through. There was no concentrated, strategic jog now. He was running with all his might, like a track star darting down the field. Even with the weight of his armor and that aching in his gut and shoulder, Jinx could barely keep up.

He burst out of the front doors, and seeing a Drone within reach, smashed the Hammerburst into its skull. When it fell, he crushed a boot to its head.

There was a flaming crater of bits and pieces a few steps away. Locust, wounded and burned trying to crawl away. Gospel pumped rounds into them until they lay still. He slowed to a walk, then practically a crawl, but he always pressed forward, towards the smoking hole.

It was something they taught in basic. A devastating tactic that could only be used once. When overwhelmed and about to die, activate whatever grenades you still had only your belt. Go out with a bang, and take as many of the Locust down with you. With the way the battles went, it was a tactic used all too often.

Gospel had never mourned his parent's death. They were horrible people. The things his father did while his mother stood by and watched. They had it coming. But despite his fire and brimstone, his abuse and cruelties, Arnold was a brother in arms. He followed orders and he provided covering fire and applied pressure to wounds. He was a comrade. It was seeing what was left of someone like Arnold, a comrade, a brother, even a brother who had been cruel. A brother who had respected him and followed his orders, a friend, that he understood there was something wrong with him. The war tended to hollow soldiers out, but there was always that smidgeon of humanity that made them feel every death. He felt nothing now.

"God," Jinx said. She felt something, even for this Gear she had only known for a day or two. There was nothing wrong with her.

Gospel placed a hand on her shoulder and pointed to the horizon, to the distant roar of the King Raven chugging through the sky.

"How do you do it?" Jinx asked. "How do you not care?"

She was jealous of him. Perhaps he was better off, the only way to live in a cruel, crazy world was to be cruel and crazy yourself, but how he longed to feel what she was feeling.

"I'm sorry," she said, as if every horror he had ever endured could be traced back to her. She was that kind of person. Gospel wondered if what he was feeling was normal. He'd never really been taught about this. "Do we even have a chance?" she asked. "I mean, look at the Locust. They're a dozen different species, all unified under a single banner. They have been for decades as near as we can tell. And it takes a genocidal act for all of humanity's kingdoms to stand firm together. Even if we win, what will happen after? We'll just go back to fighting each other. Over some new fuel or some new resource or just because we don't like each other. We can do such horrible things to ourselves without a second thought."

Gospel wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to so bad. Abandoning any doubt, he reached forward and embraced this woman he had only known for a few days. Something about her, or perhaps there was something wrong with him.

"Tell me I'm wrong, please."

She hugged him back, allowing his firm, strong arms to hold her tight and keep her safe. Nestled close to his chest. His heartbeat calm even through his armor while hers was speeding up to an unhealthy pace, any moment it would burst out from under her breast.

He wanted to tell her everything he saw in her. He wanted to remind her that she had been perfectly willing to stay behind with her wounded. Given the chance to escape on the great bird to freedom, she would have stayed behind with the people she had so nobly cared for. That she had seen just as many horrors as he had and hadn't been rendered hollow, that she had that kind of strength. He wanted to say so long as there were people like her, there was hope.

"Gospel, we're almost there," Downey said.

They heard the explosion. The King Raven erupted in a torrent of flame, the heaping burning wreckage reduced to nothing even before it hit the ground. A rocket or a nearby Brumak.

Jinx's legs dropped out from under her, and it was only Gospel's support that kept her from hitting the ground flat. He gently eased her down, holding her close as he took out the discs with all the data on the Hammer of Dawn. He cracked each into tiny pieces between his fingers, then cast each fragment in a different direction.

"Did we ever have a chance?" she asked again, much more intimately this time. "I don't want to get caught. I've heard stories about what happens. I don't want to get caught. Don't let them."

Gospel pulled the Boltok pistol out of the holster on his belt. He opened the chamber, and emptied the spend bullets. From his belt, he pulled out two fresh shots, loaded it, and spun the cylinder, pulling the hammer back with his thumb.

"Don't let me go. I think it might hurt."

Gospel nodded, and tenderly kissed her forehead. Such a sweet taste. Such a sweet scent.

"Good bye," she said. She closed her eyes tight as the cold steel bit at her left temple.

Gospel wanted to say good bye as well. He even opened his mouth and exhaled, shaped his lips and tongue, but no noise came out. He settled for another kiss to her forehead. Over her shoulder, he saw the Drones marching quickly to him. He wanted to tell her he loved him. He wanted to so bad.

"Good bye," he managed to whisper, as he held her close.