Chapter 45: Dour and Sour
Kyra tended to the campfire as Quintas rode back in, saluting the Legate as he relayed his scouting report. "My lord, I count two interlopers in the area."
Barabbas drank from his bowl, wiping his mouth as he set it down in his lap. "Concerns?"
"I believe they are from that Californian detachment from the Rez. Probably… agents, I suppose. Perhaps one intelligence officer and an armed escort?"
Falco turned to look at Barabbas. "…Perhaps they have information we do not?"
"And perhaps the sight of Legion riders will spur mutual dialogue," Barabbas scoffed as he set his bowl aside. "Looks like this will be a team effort. If it's a trap, spread out and check for ambushes. I'll take the lead."
He strode over to Belua and prepared to mount. As he did, he noticed a weight getting behind him. He stopped and turned to stare at his former concubine. "…What are you doing?"
"…Team effort, right?" Kyra replied.
"…You're staying at camp," Barabbas responded, brokering no argument.
"…Tying me with the luggage, again?" Kyra asked, not hiding her annoyance.
"…Falco!" Barabbas barked. "Get me your spare rifle!"
The riders turned to stare as Falco dutifully surrendered his other weapon. Barabbas handed the firearm and a clip of ammunition to Kyra. "…A quick rundown of the basics would be prudent," Barabbas began. "First, you should…" He stopped as Kyra inserted the magazine into the weapon, pulling back the lever to insert a round in the chamber. Pointing the weapon away, she gazed down the sight. "…My grandfather already taught me," Kyra answered.
"…Don't leave camp," Barabbas replied as he snapped the reins and charged off, followed in quick succession by the rest of the cavalry. The last to leave, unfortunately, was Hypatia. "…Take a shot at any of us and I'll have the dogs run a train on you," Hypatia snarled as she turned and charged away from the camp.
So that's why you have such a wonderful personality, Kyra thought to herself, keeping her giggling to a minimum. She settled by the campfire, rifle resting on her lap as she picked up her soup and continued eating. She thought about how, after spending so many days out in the wastes, she was learning to get used to things. Things like cooking for a group of nine, navigating the interpersonal relationships of the riders, or learning how to ease Barabbas' mood whenever his melancholic disposition became unbearable.
Rather, she had learned quite a bit by shutting up and staying out of their way. She had learned that Falco was married to a woman he had known since the latter days of the Mojave War, the sister to Drago as well as Scorpio's father. Despite twenty years of marriage, they had produced no children, his wife going as far as to purchase him a younger mistress to remedy the situation. She also learned that Damocles suffered nightmares from the Swamp Wars and that the only one he confided in on such matters was his fellow veteran from the campaign, Uriah. And she was increasingly certain that Sulla was gay.
Kyra dumped her soup on the ground as she wheeled behind her, pointing her gun at the stranger. "…Nothing we have is worth dying over. Move along," she growled.
The stranger dropped her revolver by her side. "Easy, now. I'm not looking to take anything. I'm just here looking for information."
Kyra reluctantly pulled her rifle to the side. "…You're a woman?"
The figure pulled her gas mask off her face. "Feeling a little more comfortable?"
"What happened to your eye?" Kyra asked.
"I closed a door on it," Carla lied. "Have you seen a girl around here. About, I guess you could say around our age. About five-seven? Tan with black hair?"
"Who is she, your sister?" Kyra asked.
"…A friend," Carla gulped. "I'm really worried about her. You haven't seen her?"
Kyra shook her head. "Damn," Carla winced. "…Ok, then, how about a guy?"
"Can you be a little more specific?" Kyra asked.
"…He might be traveling with two others," Carla beat around the bush.
"…Anything else?" Kyra asked.
"…He has brown hair that goes down past his neck, he has a bit of a stubble that doesn't go away no matter how hard he shaves, he has blue eyes that look grey in the right light, and he has a scar around his left shoulder and a tattoo on his bicep of…"
"No, no," Kyra shook her head. "That doesn't match anyone I've seen recently, and I've been stuck around nothing but men for the last few weeks."
"…What are you doing here, anyway?" Carla asked.
"…I'm part of an expedition," Kyra replied, diplomatically. "I'm basically taking care of the camp while the others look for a girl."
"What kind of girl?" Carla asked.
"…My boss's sister," Kyra replied. "She got lost a few months back and we gathered a team to look for her. I went along because there's some jobs the boys don't want to do," she smiled, hoping she'd take the hint and leave for her own good.
"…That's a lot of luggage," Carla noted as she looked at all the supplies stacked around the camp. "You'd need a whole caravan of brahmin to haul all that."
"We manage," Kyra winked. The stillness of the morning was punctuated by the unmistakable staccato rhythm of a machine gun. Carla looked in the direction of the ruckus when she realized what had happened. "Kim, come in!" she called into her radio. "Kim!"
"Those guys were with you?" Kyra asked, growing hesitant.
"Kim, answer me! KIM! FROST!" she called out. The sound of a rifle being picked up and pointed at her finally drew her back to the world around her, instinctively drawing her revolver and pointing it at Kyra. The two stood in a stalemate, neither blinking.
"…You need to leave," Kyra pleaded. "You need to leave now!"
"Who are you people?" Carla hissed as the machine gun began to pause and hesitate between blasts.
"People you need to stay far away from," Kyra hissed. "You can't fight them. Just stay out of our way and save yourself."
The machinegun came to a stop. Kyra turned to look as she kept her rifle trained on Carla. "…They're your friends?"
Carla debated whether or not to knock the rifle from her hands and take her as a hostage. Like that action would have been enough to save her friends. Or herself. Kyra turned back to look at the marshal, putting her rifle to the side. "…You want to help your friends, get out of here. I'll do what I can for them, but you need to get out and save yourself. Please."
At the sound of approaching whooping and hollering, Carla took the hint as she put away her revolver and doubled back, unsure about whether she had made a good decision to separate from the rest of her group. In her stead, Kyra watched in awe as it appeared the marshal vanished into the very terrain around her. Wonder if she could have taught me that? Kyra thought to herself. Hang on, why didn't I even think to ask if she would take me with her?!
As Kyra rationalized her decision, Quintas and Drago came bounding into the camp. "OUR HUNT WAS FRUITFUL!" Quintas cheered as Drago's mount paced around the fire, sniffing. "Did you see anyone while we were out?" Drago casually asked.
"…Some drifter wandered by and asked if I had any spare food," Kyra replied as she noticed the extra footprints in the dirt, seeing the futility of lying. "So, I offered some lead," she continued as she lifted her rifle.
"Good girl," Drago chuckled.
The rest of the riders returned, filing in randomly as Barabbas watched over them. Hypatia rode up to Kyra, grinning like evil. "Hey, Ky, what's the worst job you can possibly imagine?"
"…Being your slave," Kyra replied.
"Good guess," Hypatia laughed. "It's actually being YOUR slave!" she said as she grabbed the man hoisted on the back of her dog and threw him to the ground. The man had premature salt and pepper hair and looked like the short ride back to camp absolutely knocked the wind out of him. Kyra looked to him and to Hypatia. "…What am I supposed to do with him?"
"Ayunno," Hypatia shrugged. "But your information was right, so I believe you deserved a reward. Speaking of…"
Uriah and Sulla were dragging the damaged mass of steel behind them, even as they struggled against the binds. The armored suit was running on fumes, its joints and servos chipped and dented beyond working order. Less a suit of armor than a coffin, Kyra thought as they dropped the armored soldier before the rest of the riders.
"…KYRA HAS PROVEN HER WORTH!" Barabbas announced to all who could hear. "This victory is dedicated to her honor, as a servant of the Legion and to Imperial Dallas!"
The riders let out a cheer as Kyra blushed, smiling even as she felt her stomach drop. The armored warrior tried to get on their feet, but Damocles smashed into their helmet with the stock of his rifle. "…It is through your efforts that we were able to bring this warrior down without bloodshed," Barabbas rested a massive hand on her shoulder. "The vanquished's helmet shall be a worthy trophy, I hope," he concluded with a palpable sense of pride.
Kyra gulped but hid it behind a smile. She realized why she didn't run despite the opportunity having presented itself. She was one of them, now. As her new slave writhed on the ground, Kyra approached the battered steel soldier. Placing her fingers underneath the lip of the armor, she pried the helmet from the rest of the suit, revealing the battered and exhausted woman underneath. Hacking out a strangled breath, the woman glanced at Kyra with a look of shock, fear, and contempt.
A whistle broke out behind Kyra. Hypatia was grinning, again. "…California and its women. And here they think they can match with the Legios Amazonia. Even their bitches are paltry imitations. Well, Kyra, what are you waiting for? Show us the rest of her!"
Larain made himself comfortable as they sat around the campfire. Delilah was carving up a fresh molerat Ferra had killed, cooking the hide as Dinero chatted up Sophia, who was currently giggling at a lot of stuff that wasn't funny or interesting. She has that idiot in the palm of her hand, Larain thought. Marcy stifled a laugh. A strip of meat was dropped in Larain's lap. Ferra, the weird, quiet one, stared at him as Larain took the chunk and began gnawing on it.
"…As you can imagine, my copper mines have been indispensable to the frontier provinces," Dinero gloated as Sophia giggled. "I mean, when we worked at the foundries, we had centurions eating out of the palms of our hands. We ran the metal, so we ran the swords, armor, and coins. Yep, we were on top of everything!"
"Who's "we?" Sophia asked, cupping her chin in her hands.
"Oh, that would be…" Dinero paused. Marcy looked at him, concerned. Whatever flashed across Dinero's face was promptly buried by his typical too-wide smile. "Well, the past is nothing but the past, ain't that right, Rain?"
"I told you, leave me out of this," Larain replied with his mouth full of jerky.
"I mean, you are just living proof that no matter what happens, you can't escape the past," Dinero laughed. Larain shot him a glare as he felt a hand on his knee. Marcy looked to him, giving a look that pleaded with him to let this slide.
"What do you mean by that?" Delilah asked as she joined them around the campfire, jerky in her lap. Ferra was busy wolfing down the meat, not pausing to taste. Sophia drew closer to Dinero, an act that encouraged him to continue talking to these women and seeing where things went.
"That boy, right there?" Dinero pointed. "That boy is the son of one of the Legion's greatest heroes!"
Larain was tempted to pull out one of the guns these Amazons gave him and force Dinero to finally shut up. Marcy's hands moved from his lap to his arm. I know people talking about your family sucks, I get it, he could somehow hear the kid say to him. But even if this doesn't mean anything to you, it means the world to Markus.
"Hero, you say?" Sophia purred as Delilah turned her gaze towards Larain, who made a point of ignoring her as he kept chewing into his meat.
"…We were the ones who brought the mighty city of Phoenix into the fold of Caesar, himself!" Dinero cheered.
"That was you?" Sophia exclaimed, excitedly. "You were with the Frumentarii?"
"…Well, not exactly," Dinero blushed as he thought back to the slaughter. Subterfuge wasn't something the Legion liked to advertise, but it had been practiced judiciously throughout its history. What had made Phoenix special was how the people who cause the city to fall had almost all, at some point or another, come from inside the city itself.
"…I only wanted to join the winning side, and I was right!" Dinero puffed out his chest. "All we did was introduce a little extra confusion, help the Frumentarii a little here and there with finding some of the leadership, and drop off a few bombs, and presto, Caesar ruled Arizona, thanks to us!"
Ferra began signing. Delilah looked out of the corner of her eyes before turning and snapping at her sister. "Mind your tongue, girl, or what's left of it!"
"I beg your pardon?" Dinero asked.
"…My sister is a little impudent," Delilah confessed. "It's partly why she can no longer speak." Ferra, in turn, hissed at her sister, exposing her severed tongue in the process. Larain suddenly felt his appetite leave, putting his jerky to the side where it was promptly absconded by Marcy.
"My sister claims that she was taught that Phoenix fell to the Frumentarii, and that the remaining military fell because the Legion defeated it in the field of battle, subjugating it as the First Caesar led command personally on the field of battle."
Dinero let out a laugh. "Right! That's a good one! Caesar never set foot in Phoenix until long after the Interfector conquered it!"
"…Who's the Interfector?" Sophia asked.
"…Is this a joke?" Dinero laughed as his smile began to fade. Delilah and Ferra both looked at him, eyes betraying no recognition. Dinero then turned to look at Larain, who refused to look him in the eye. Your dumbass brought him up, you explain him.
"…Right!" Dinero's smile reluctantly returned. "So, at first he was just this drifter who just… drifted on into our lives. A real catch, this guy was. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE wanted to be with him! Not like that, y'know, unless… ANYWAY! After he established himself to all the players, he made his choice at the final hour, and those who stood with him won, and everyone else, well…" he turned to look at the look of disgust Larain was giving him.
"You got to know him, right!" he continued as he turned to the three women. "The Interfector of Phoenix! A Legionary Legend! First man to jump from outsider to centurion in, like, an afternoon! We practically ran Circle Junction! You've heard about him!"
The three girls looked at him blankly. "…You've heard about him?"
Delilah cleared her throat. "…Mr. Dinero, we are escorting you out of respect for your position within Imperial Dallas. As such, it is our duty to tell you the unvarnished truth, as we all were brought to understand from how we were taught Legion history. We have never heard of this "Interfector of Phoenix."
"WHAT?!" Dinero screamed, outraged and shocked.
"Lucky," Larain muttered under his breath.
"…Mr. Dinero, we were taught that it was Caesar who conquered the lands and educated its people in their new purpose," Delilah explained. "Those who served under him, with few exceptions, were merely instruments to ensure his force of will."
"…I mean, I know that," Dinero tried to regain his composure. "But, you know, he didn't do it alone. You realize that, right?"
"We understand," Delilah nodded. "We understand vital figures like those of the Legates, and those leaders who implemented Caesar's will. Even infamous names, like those of Graham and Vulpes, are studied."
"The Interfector gave Caesar an entire city on a silver platter," Dinero said through gritted teeth. "All the work I… that we did, and it wasn't even recorded?"
"…Mr. Dinero, I do not mean to pry, but might I ask what happened to this "Interfector?" Delilah asked.
Dinero paused, him struggling to find the words and communicate just how much the Interfector had given the Legion, how much sacrifice he had endured to make Caesar's dream a reality. They had to understand, on some level they just had to. And that was when Larian finally spoke up.
"Oh, I can answer this!" he said, almost giddy. "After a lifetime of fucking over anyone and everyone associated with him, including me and whoever my mom was, Caesar ordered him to lead a group of his best warriors to Hopeville where he finally did the first decent thing he ever did in his sorry life by way of fucking off forever and dying! The End!"
Sophia and Delilah let out laughs while Ferra applauded. Marcy backed away slowly, her head beginning to throb. Dinero couldn't have looked more wounded if Larain had just taken an ax to his gut and kept chopping.
"…Phoenix… everything… we… I…" Dinero gulped as he looked over the new Legion.
"…Phoenix means nothing to us," Delilah finally answered Dinero. "Territory that the Legion could not hold and was surrendered to guarantee safe passage for the Second Caesar, the Oracle, and their Titan. The only places in Arizona that we learned that had any significance were Flagstaff and Two Sun. Everything else meant nothing in the long run."
"We made the Legion," Dinero hissed. "After everything we did, you… you just seek to disregard us? Our sacrifices and victories?"
"Aye," Delilah nodded. "That which is not useful is disregarded. That applies to places. To knowledge. To people and names. That is the Legion, Dinero."
Dinero felt the blood leave his face. He looked to Larain and Marcy. The boy didn't seem the slightest bit bothered by what was transpiring in front of him. Marcy looked worried. He looked back at the women. "…So, that's it? Nothing we did mattered?"
"Oh, no," Sophia shook her head. "I think everything you and this Infector accomplished mattered a great deal. To you."
"…To me…" Dinero laughed mirthlessly. "I gave up everything for the Legion. Everything we did, everyone we hurt, all the stuff I did to keep my head above water, and none of them had the decency to remember or record any of it?"
The First Caesar's era was marked by the liberal usage and abuse of altering history. It was with glee and gusto that entire histories were annihilated, lost to the wastes as peoples were absorbed into the massive force of humanity that was the Legion. However, in Dinero's isolation, he had never quite realized that such practices were things the Legion applied unto itself. There were no heroes, only servants. There were no martyrs, only broken and discarded tools. There was no past, only that which people like the First Caesar or the Oracle decided. And to them, Phoenix was a chapter that went nowhere, and would be treated as such.
Dinero looked out around him, at the unsympathetic eyes staring back at him. Forty years of service, forty years looking after number one, and suddenly he felt more alone than he had ever felt before. "…Excuse me," he stated meekly as he got up and left the campfire. Marcy curled her lip at the three women before getting up and trotting after Dinero.
Delilah's let out a breathless chuckle. "The only thing worse than a middle-manager administrator with an ego is one that can't see his place in the broad scheme."
"Think he'll… take care of himself for us?" Sophia asked, smiling brightly.
Ferra shook her head, and Delilah concurred. "That kid is all he's got. He'll keep going for her sake. Geezers are experts at finding reasons to keep staying alive long after they should have expired."
"That's cold," Larain said, not hiding his contempt despite his lack of respect for Dinero.
"Aww, you do care," Sophia purred as she drew closer to him.
"I'll protect him from you three. That's about as far as I'll go," Larain sniffed.
"…How noble," Sophia smiled. "Want to go somewhere private?"
"Not interested," Larain scoffed. "Recently my life has gotten worse every time I've had sex, and I don't trust you at all."
Sophia grinned as she drew back to her sisters. In the distance, Marcy patted Dinero on his shoulder as he tried and failed not to sob. Larain looked up to the moon above as he wondered just where a guy like his was supposed to go with a group like this. Dinero had been adamant about heading to his old mines, the very edge of Legion turf in Colorado, but after that, he had no idea the future would have in store for any of them.
They didn't take frequent breaks, and even then, never for long. Cass oversaw the quick camp as it was expediently set up, a quick campfire being lit as bedrolls were unfurled. Tobey, having drawn the short straw, would take watch for the first few hours before having Cass take over, who insisted that she didn't need too much sleep.
As the Federales bickered over the canned food they had brought with them, Melody took a moment to rest her feet as she all but passed out. Jimmy offered her one of his supply bags as a pillow, which she graciously accepted before losing consciousness. Smiling, Jimmy turned to look at Melody's husband, who was alert and restless.
"…Something on your mind?" Jimmy asked, offhandedly.
Joseph then stood up and proceeded to walk into the darkness.
"Joe? Joe! Hey!" Jimmy called out as he got up and chased after him.
"What's going on?" Cass asked.
"Ask Joseph, it'll be the first time anyone ever got a straight answer out of him," Jimmy snapped. "Stay here, I'll get his ass back here. Don't wake Melody, I'll make it quick," he exclaimed as he took off after the blind man.
Joseph turned his head briefly to acknowledge his impromptu traveling companion. "…I don't need an escort."
"And I don't need to listen to your woman screaming at me about letting you wander off," Joseph snapped. "What is it?"
"…I don't quite know," Joseph admitted.
"Then it can wait," Jimmy growled as he grabbed Joseph by the shoulder.
"It might help us find Rosa," Joseph countered.
"Give me something solid, then," Jimmy gritted. "What is it?"
"…Are you familiar with Elisha?" Joseph asked.
"That old Brotherhood scribe who almost gassed the southwest? A little," Jimmy stated.
"Not him. Eli-SHA," he emphasized. "And I was referring to something more biblical," Joseph countered.
"Oh, the prophet!" Jimmy recognized it. "He's the one who got abducted by angels, right?"
Joseph thought for a moment. "…Not quite. I'm referring to the one who came after. Elijah's disciple."
Jimmy tried to think about the last time he browsed through the Old Testament. "…Didn't he have some bears maul some kids who made fun of him?"
"Yes!" Joseph beamed. "Exactly! More or less, but you get the idea!"
"Ok," Jimmy nodded. "…What does that have to do with anything?"
"Just keep that story in mind," Joseph insisted as his smile began to fade.
"…Where are we going, anyway?" Jimmy asked. "Should have brought a damn flashlight."
"Don't worry, walking in the dark isn't so bad," Joseph offered. "But I can hold your hand if you want?"
"Piss off," Jimmy snorted. Joseph betrayed a small laugh. A few minutes later, they saw green sparks in the distance. Jimmy stopped as Joseph continued forward. "…Is that… plasma?" he asked as Joseph began to hurry.
The four crowded around as they admired their handiwork as they were illuminated by the flares they had brought. "Did you enjoy your bath?" one of them taunted as two others laughed while the fourth picked out a mircofusion cell. They had been gifted this for their service in driving away the commandos once Ariel had grown weary of fishing for information. Sheol had other plans, having signed up with the Ximenez Gang at the last minute, leaving what remained of his men to their own devices. Those devices, in this case, were some damaged plasma rifles with leaking said plasma.
Joseph came to a stop, his fingers drumming on his cane as he assessed what was before him. Jimmy followed behind, took one look at the situation in front of him, and immediately drew his shotgun. The thugs realized they had been stumbled upon, drawing out their plasma pistols at the two interlopers.
"…Anything we can do your you?" the lead thug asked in an inauthentically friendly tone.
Joseph "looked" at all four of the "men" before turning his attention to the huddled mess shivering on the dirt floor. "You there. Girl? Can you hear me?"
The redhead was in so much pain that she could barely hear his voice, let alone form a response that wasn't strangled sobs and choking gags. All across her body were marks of leaked plasma, scarring her body down to the bone and burning her long after the wounding.
"You want her?" the lead thug grinned as he planted a boot on her head. "I'd say we're about done with her. We had our fun, didn't we, Red?" he taunted.
Jimmy wished he had brought a submachine gun. A sawed-off wouldn't be enough to bring them all down. Outnumbered and outgunned. And his partner didn't even have a weapon. Even more than lighting all these sons of bitches up, he needed to get that girl out of there. He turned to Joseph, seeing his unreadable expression. What is your fucking game?! He thought in exasperation.
"Watch," Joseph said aloud. "Torturing the helpless is bad for the soul. But I imagine you four are aware of it, so I will spare you the sermon. There's no use in talking to a bunch of damaged animals."
One of the thugs swore at him while another spat in his direction. Joseph remained unmoved. The lead thug glared him down, as futile as such and action could be in regard to Joseph being blind. "…Offering to take her place?"
"In time, I would gladly," Joseph remarked. "However, there are other more important matters that demand my attention. I'd rather take your toy and leave you four to your own."
Jimmy glared at Joseph as he kept cycling his sawed-off through the crowd. If you are half what Rosa thinks you are, you can end these fuckers now! What's that hold up?!
"They're on borrowed time, anyway," Joseph said aloud.
"…Tell you what?" the lead thug said as he put away his pistol and pulled out a knife. "What do you say we give you the girl in, as the RMX likes to stay, installments," he grinned as he grabbed her by the wrist.
Joseph held out his hand, palm upward as he made a stopping motion. The four men laughed. "You intend to stop us?" one of them mocked. "Or what, you'll call down the wrath of God?"
Joseph tucked his thumb into his palm. "I believe the folly of Man will be more than enough," he said as his pinky joined his thumb. His ring finger followed, which was then joined by the middle. Finally, he was left with the index. "…Last chance."
"…Go on," the lead thug grinned. "Smite me."
Joseph had resolved not to attack these, regardless of however much they deserved it. These "men" weren't worth debasing himself. In truth, they had nothing to fear from Joseph himself. What he did do, however, was hide them from the senses of the hunters prowling the area, even as they drew closer. So upon the completion of his countdown, rather than an assault, he merely dropped the cover he had bestowed upon them, right as the three were practically on top of them.
The three cloaked figures let out a hiss as they tore into the thugs. Jimmy, having not even realized the lizards had been approaching, almost shot at the beasts out of instinct until he had been grabbed by Joseph. "GRAB HER, DAMN IT!" Joseph screamed. Jimmy nodded and bolted towards the sprawled-out girl. One of the lizards, a fat one, stole a glance at the one morsel approaching the other. Ripping out the screaming innards of his meal, the fat one made to dive towards the remaining two before his siblings could thwart him. A strong and heavy blow across his chin knocked him to his claws, a familiar feeling he had been putting up with ever since they'd chosen to follow this particular pack of humans.
Jimmy grabbed the girl as she whimpered at his contact, pulling her away as the thug leader was tossed beside him, sans legs. Looking up, the thug leader coughed out some blood as he looked up to the gangster. "…H-help… me…"
A shot rang out and the man collapsed onto the dirt. Looking before him, Jimmy could see Joseph holstering his pistol. Dragging the girl past the preacher, Joseph "watched" the carnage before him as he slowly backed away and joined Jimmy.
"Since when did you carry a loaded gun?" Jimmy hissed as they both picked up the pace.
"I don't," Joseph replied. "I gave him a death before he died, just like he wanted."
"Kill me," the redhead muttered as waves of pain coursed over her.
"Let us help you first," Joseph placated as the lizards began howling in victory over their meal.
"…If you think I'm going to… thank you…" she gritted through her tears.
"We didn't help you for your gratitude," Joseph shook his head. "I helped you because you know what happened to Rosa Perez, didn't you?"
Amy looked up at Joseph, a plasma scar starting at her forehead and streaking right down the side of her left cheek, barely missing her eye. "…Should have known… only reason people care is when they… get something out of me…"
"My wife can see to it that you are cared for, but I fear she may be a little underequipped to heal you as you deserve. That's where I will come in," Joseph said as Amy felt the pain around her body begin to numb.
"Hey," Jimmy began as he picked her up bridal style. "We're gonna make sure you get out of here, first and foremost."
Amy, her body finally soothed enough to give her some measure of peace, finally was able to pass out. Joseph would give her peace and privacy, and Jimmy promised himself that he would look after her until she could take care of herself, his weakness for damaged women once again rearing its head. Behind them, the lizards began to bicker.
"Ok, we ate humans! Now, can you please focus on finding and killing our brother?!" Ronny exclaimed, exasperated.
Petey bit off the head of the legless human with a contented murmur. "Oh, this… I've missed this," he sighed as he crunched away.
"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm sick of following that pack," Davey motioned to Camp Silverhair's general direction. "Once we finish up here, I say we head towards the sun. There are some caves nearby that Sawney would be delighted to hide in, and if he's in the area, that's where I think he'll stay."
"Isn't there a human settlement near it?" Ronny asked.
"Really?" Petey's eyes lit up. "That's even better!"
"Focus, both of you," Davey snapped in tune with the spine on his knee, bringing the burst innards to his jaws as he began to shuck.
"That's nasty," Ronny complained as she dropped her carcass. "Why can't you just settle for the limbs first before the center?"
"Don't tell me how to enjoy human," Davey snorted as Petey stole his sister's carcass. "Hey! I wasn't done with that!" Ronny snapped as she got into a scrap with Petey. They finished up and vanished before Cass and the Federales came to the site to investigate, leaving little trace of their presence apart from the bloodstains in the sand and the unease that would stay with the camp for the rest of the night.
