Chapter Five

John

I managed to lose the armour along the way. I knew I would raise questions if I showed up in the town looking like that— half bled out, covered in burns and scratches, limping on one leg, wearing torn clothes— but it was still better than marching into the town in the Spartan armour. More suspicious, I decided, tearing the parts off of me. After all, there was a warrant letter after a Spartan-117, not after some guy that had… a car accident, perhaps. I overheard some marines talking about it before, and thought it was a good cover story. Not too complicated. Who would want to travel a couple miles in that deep snow to check if my story did actually add up? I sure as hell would, but fortunately, I wasn't a law departament in the town. I grabbed the last piece of armour and disengaged the lock.

The crisp air surrounded me and I shivered a little, throwing the pieces of armour into a lake. A better place to hide it than some deep snow, and maybe later I would have some time to recover it. I stood there for a moment, watching a thin layer of ice forming over the hole I dug in the lake and turned towards the sign. It read 'ozen Falls — the first two letters covered by a snowy branch— and I moved on. It was getting darker and colder, and I had to find this Michelle Namazi before I turned into an icicle. What were the coordinates…?

Luck was on my side again. The inhabitants were probably hidden in their houses, as nobody was on the street. Good. The less people saw me, the better. I read numbers on the houses, searching for a 1— there. I trudged in the snow covering the front yard and stood before the door. Taking a deep breath, I knocked.

"Coming, co— what the hell happened to you?"

A young woman stood in the slightly ajar door, staring at me with her mouth gaping. I knew I looked bad, but decided to not mention it. If I chose to ignore my state, maybe she'd give me the keys as soon as possible and I'll be able to leave without causing her furter distress. Besides, more minutes outside meant more danger. I wanted to take a shower, tend to my wounds and think through my next steps.

"Car accident. You Mrs. Namazi?"

"Miss", she replied automatically. Her grasp on the door tightened, I noticed her knuckles whitening.

"Miss Namazi", I said, trying my best to not look intimidating and probably failing at that. "My name is John. We talked about the house."

She swallowed, the look of worry contorting her features. After a thought, she moved back a step.

"You, ah, need the keys, right?"

I nodded.

"Would you, uh, would you like to come in?"

I saw on her face it cost her a lot to ask me that question. I also saw she was genuinely worried about my battered state and afraid I'd hurt her if I entered the house. I shook my head slowly.

"No need. I'll wait here."

Her gaze dropped to my bare feet. She pressed her lips together, the internal fight between fear and worry obvious and visible on her face. I opened my mouth to tell her I just wanted the keys, but she spoke faster than me.

"Nonsense", she muttered, more to herself than to me and took a wide step back. "Please, do come in, John", she said, smiling widely. "You look like you could use a hot cup of tea right now."

"Ma'am", I responded stiffly. "The keys."

Miss Namazi looked as if I physically struck her in the face. I frowned at her, staring at her pale face. She shook her head.

"Of course. Give me a sec."

She disappeared inside the house and, after a couple of long minutes, returned with a triumphant look on her face.

She extended her hands towards me.

"The big one opens the main door, the smaller are for cellar and garage."

She held the bunch of clinking keys in one hand and in the other a brown paper bag. I stared at both, took the keys and turned to leave.

"Hey, wait a moment!" She grabbed my arm and I recoiled, tensing immediately. She let go of me at once and held her hand up.

"Sorry", she said defensively. "It's for you, too". She shook the bag, her gaze uneven, but her lips turned up into an easy smile. "Please, take it."

I looked at the bag, trying to figure out what was inside. Supplies? A tracking device? A bomb?

"It's… I baked chocolate chip cookies earlier tonight." Mrs. Namazi looked up at me with a wide smile on her face. "You sure look like you need some, big man."

I hesitantly grabbed the bag she offered and nodded.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Oh, quit that ma'am-ing me. My name is Michelle."

I nodded again and after a moment, turned to the street.

"Go left", she called after me. "Your house is at the end of the street."

I once more was trudging through the cold snow, grasping the bag of pleasantly warm— so different from the frozen world around me— cookies in my hand and the keys in the other.

The house was indeed at the end of the street. Looked as if no one has been in there for a very long time. Even if someone went into the building, the snow would have long ago buried their footsteps.

My fingers were freezing cold— not the hand that held the cookie bag— and I wasted a long moment trying to fit the keys into a hole when the door abruptly opened. The keys clanked, hitting the stony threshold. The dim, white light from the inside illuminated the front yard and a feminine figure appeared in front of me.

She was here? Already? For a second I was annoyed, then the feeling passed, leaving only the exhaustion behind.

The older woman's lips were pressed into a thin line. She seemed to relax for a brief moment when she saw me, but she quickly regained her composure. She kept herself straight and stiff as she looked me in the eye. I overcame the urge to shift in place. That stern, cold blue eyes made me feel uncomfortable. They were familiar, all right, but something in them— exactly this. Uncomfortable.

"I expected you days ago", she finally announced, her voice tight and crisp, as usual. It's been what, four months? Five? since I last saw her, but I doubted she changed much, even considering all that happened.

"Ship crashed."

"Excuses." She waved her hand dismissively and I didn't care enough to correct her. After examining me one more time with that usual scrutiny of hers, she nodded. I frowned, not knowing what to make of that, but she already disappeared inside the house leaving behind the open door. I assumed this was as much of an invite as I would get. Briefly glancing back at the snow covered town, I followed her.

My steps reasounded in the empty living room, literally completely empty. Dim light of a single light bulb brightened the room. The house was deprived of any furniture. There were only naked walls and dust covered wooden flooring and I raised a small cloud every time I moved.

"Come to the basement", her voice reached me from the stairs. "Lock the door."

I did as she asked. For a moment I let my hand rest against the wooden surface, inhaling the stale air of the long-empty house. I wiped my hand through my face, wincing when I brushed a freshly healed cut on my cheek. I glanced down at my fingers. The blood shone in the dim light of the lamp.

I felt her eyes on me before she spoke. How long has she stood there?

She cleared her throat.

"There's equipment downstairs," she finally said. "I'll take care of your wounds."

I only nodded. She reciprocated the gesture and turned to walk to the basement.

"Dr. Halsey." My voice sounded strange without the helmet's filter. She stopped but made no move to at least glance back at me. I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard an annoyed sigh.

"Am I dead?" I asked. I knew she understood what I meant — if the people after me believed I were dead that would prove convenient. Can't count on that, though. After all, Spartans never die. They are just missing in action. Unless the bounty hunters were idiots (which was possible, considering they went after a Spartan) they would think me dead only after seeing my unmoving body, preferably made so by their own hands. Or guns, rather. I didn't think they would risk coming within my reach.

Silence felt heavy for a moment, and then she shook her head slightly.

"No, John. They know you're alive." She exhaled and turned to face me. "What's worse, Cortana does, too, and she's been actively trying to find you after your escape."

I swallowed. That's… good, I thought. At least I know she's okay—"

"That's bad", Halsey insisted, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Very bad, I'd say. She is unstable. We have to find her and stop her."

I straightened a bit, knowing I'd look more intimidating, and looked down at her with my eyes narrowed. I often used that trick when some of the younger soldiers were trying to be too friendly, too… nosey. I was aware that when I performed that little "dangerous-do-not-approach" show, most of the people shrank away and wouldn't bother to try and keep talking to me. It was easier this way. No attachments, no problems, no worries. Never had an opportunity to test that on Halsey, though. Seemed it wasn't working too well.

"I will not hurt her", I stated. Halsey's face briefly contorted into something… annoyed, at least. But then she took on her usual tight smile. She reached with her hand and awkwardly patted my forearm. I stopped myself from flinching. I wasn't used to other people touching me, not through the armour and certainly not on my bare skin.

"Of course, John", she flashed me a smile so fake even I noticed that. "I can't ask for that from you, can I?" Her eyes gleamed dangerously in the darkness. "We'll just contain her. Make sure she's not a threat to herself. And to you, too. You've seen what she's capable of."

I nodded, frowning. Of course, I saw that. I was there. The… my gun, and the others, too, they just… vanished into thin air. The Warden, huge, almost unstoppable son of a bitch we had so much trouble taking down with a team, gone, too. Just like that. The power she somehow possesed, I didn't know or understand how it worked. I agreed with Halsey on that— Cortana had to be stopped. Fixed. We'd go on missions again like we did before the shit went down the hole. Yes.

Tough luck, big guy.

I blinked a couple of times. Halsey stood in front of me, her arms folded on her chest, this annoyed look again on her face.

"You weren't listening", she scolded me as if I was her child. I shook my head.

"No."

She rubbed her eyes and I glanced at her metallic prosthetic arm, reflecting the eerie light of the dying light bulb. I rose my brows, but she waved her hand dismissively.

"Later. Let's go to the lab."

This time I followed her steps without hesitation.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thanks for taking the time to read! Also, big big BIG thanks to JaegerGipsyDanger for editing. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Have a great day!