The candles were lit in prayer. The cards were scattered on the table. Lines on their sweat matted foreheads furrowed in concentration. Souls unburdened by melancholy were crying because they were caught away from the arms of their mothers. Lovers kissed for what unquestionably could be their last moments. News of the danger had circulated in the air, as every soldier waited for his instructions.
Tom could hear it now.
Traces of Mechs moving towards their sanctuary.
Octaves rose, wrists pumped against the workplans, heads smashed together with their heated panting. Tom Mason as well as Captain Weaver was a few centimetres away; their eyes sparkled with halo of hell, their bodies electrified.
"We are not leaving her." His voice was hard, head high with all the power of his mind jumped into. His hands cuffed around the neck of Weaver, his voice cracked a thunder booming in the electrified air. Weaver luminous windows remained impassive, his face a mask of little generosity. As the nights extended, the scarlet heart of Captain detached from his forgetful muse.
"The medication has to be prioritised for the people. Her condition is deteriorating, we have no choice." Fingers relaxed around the collar of Weaver, Tom slumped against the table, battlements of the world caving in about him. Every diurnal course. All those moments, Lourdes distinctly had risen for his family. In the one company, he could not generously bring himself to return the favour.
His whisper was ragged, rough cheeks soaked with sorrowful puddles.
"She has no-one else. I can't do this to her…"
"And you won't."
Both adults rotated around to see a stern Hal Mason mightily standing in the threshold. His canvas of endurance darkened with shades of a thousand storms, his eyes blackened by a supernatural darkness. His steps into the sullen chamber were soft, however, serious. With the unwavering strength between his shoulders, a swaggering rebel, he aged. He looked at the Captain steadily. No longer a young boy.
"You're not leaving her."
The desiring tranquil sigh that escaped Weaver lurched Hal forward, scratching the face of Weaver, his cries were another language, words demonized, frustration that had held him prisoner throughout the long days and nights unleashed. He kept kicking until he was removed by two bodies from Weaver's bruised combat form.
Anne shrill voice extinguished the heat in his movements. The lecture came, but it was silent, Hal looked into the eyes of the Captain. He had never hated another human being more. Anne's hands went to his shoulders. He pushed her arms away, with a new step towards the Captain, a strong arm stopped in his approach. Hal looked down into the eye of his younger brother; Ben looked up at him in alarm and terror.
"Tell them what you've proposed, Captain." The elder Mason's voice was quiet, his blackened eyes pinned the Captain in place. The smell of sweat broke out on his forehead. The group was silent, watchful eyes trapped the Captain between tables. No escape, no rescue.
"I proposed…that Lourdes should be left, while the 2nd Mass-"
"No way in hell." A seething voice breathed, Anne's eyes obscured in disbelief, and her posture was rigid with tension presently. A gleam of madness drew on the lines of Hal's features. He was in danger of fainting from exhaustion; none the less because he took Anne's side, his companion in his protest. Weaver justifications violently plunged into crackling of discontent and agitation.
"What do you propose then?" His voice was desperate, with supplies running dry, citizens becoming impatient, the commanding nature was diminishing. There was a silence, the query sounded. The elder Mason took care, striding, he shook the Captain's shoulder in reassurance.
"She travels with us. We strap her down, Matt and Anne keep her comfortable, when we reach the new building, and we'll tend to her wounds." There was a murmur of agreement; it was adventurous and dangerous, but reasonable. Captain Weaver growled in annoyance.
"Your mess, Mason." With that, he shook off Hal's clasp, leaving the room with the small amount of pride he had taken with him. Numbers trailed their commander, but two remained. Tom took his place, his eyes debarred from the benefit of rest and tense.
"This is dangerous. "
Hal smile's reappeared as he punched his father jokingly. "When has that ever stopped us, Dad?" His childish smile returned as he walked on out of the workplace, but his father's hardened voice quickly ceased him in his tracks.
"Don't ever hurt a man like that every again. You can't protect her all the time."
Hal's glassy eyes widened in fury, gripping the door casing to control his temper, he went with an antagonistic tone.
"We're a team. I'll die trying."
The chalk dust off the beaten roads stung Hal's eyes. He growled his bike along narrow roads behind a truck of ammunition, clunking of weapons sounded around that dastardly vagabond. He instantaneously turned painfully, barely relieved to behold Lourdes uncomfortably on the lap of Anne. After ten minutes of tenuous adventurously jaunt, the boy commenced to feel the tug of regret at the bottom of the pit of his heart, the pace of travel distinctly had remained stable, but he unquestionably could already deeply feel tension in the atmosphere
His thoughts were interrupted by a grunt accelerated beside him; Ben appeared by his left side, his lips twitching in an awkward position. Hal could already feel the question forming in his mind.
"I had to do it."
Ben's eyes widened in disbelief, his hands resting on top of the handlebars, as he suspiciously watched his older brother more. There was a sense of resignation in the admission of Hal. That was important, no matter how small a detail.
"You scratched at his face."
Hal winced at the cold and rigid tone exercised by his little brother. The tingling sensation of abuse lingered, there was an aura of victorious power and control, but also the haunting memory that Hal had not even hesitated to injure the Captain, all because of an obscure and lonely girl.
"She must be special to you." Ben continued to speak, looking at his brother in silence, his voice dropped to a softer tone, as he looked at the painful shadow on the canvas of his brother, the involuntarily shudder in Hal's shoulders was enough for Ben to realize there was more to Hal and Lourdes than he had anticipated.
"It's complicated, Ben."
"Isn't everything?" Ben unnervingly laughed, trying to relieve the tight knot in his stomach, if Hal plunged in love for someone, this could only end badly.
"This is different…when I needed her, she stood by me. And now it's my turn, and I can't do anything." Hal's voice calmed, because the concept dawned on him...he was really helpless. Lifeless, without Lourdes.
"I understand." A small frown illuminated Ben's image, his palm on his high-born brother's arm set in a comforting gesture. "In a world like this, our biggest fear is to lose the one thing that keeps us sane."
The radiant wisdom of Ben was unusual, but reassuring. Hal playfully pushed Ben's hand, clutching his shoulder in response.
"For a math geek, you sure are poetic."
"I'm not the same anymore." With that, Ben revved up and went to his father, leaving Hal to speculate on their happened conversation. I don't think anyone's the same anymore.
The cries voraciously came first. Then the rip-roaring thunder vibrated through the cracks, with each thud, a truck catapulted into the air, crashing into an all-powerful impulse of debris and ashes. The orders came. The soldiers took combat positions, pointing to the sky or the ground, but the enemy was invisible.
Then, as if a ghost was triggered by the deepest wells of an ethereal world of suffering, explosions were launched on their vehicles.
The Mechs had found them.
Abandoning his motorcycle, Hal gathered civilians, as well as lead them to Ben for guidance. Matt was pushed to his father; he turned to Anne instantly to save his heart whose woes were legion. In these moments to reach for her, the earth engulfed in flames around the child.
He felt the sensation of falling, dust and particles circulating him, his stomach clenched as his feet left the ground, cracking his back as his legs contacted the soil. There was a sharp pain in the calf, but the pain subsided as he looked at the spectacle before him.
Her hand trembled, her head raised, eyes squinting through the dust cloud.
"Hal?" Lourdes croaked hoarsely.