CHAPTER EIGHT:
‘Survival’
Realization began to hit her.
During her lifetime, she had been through much; she had survived her Father’s angry and unforgiving fist, her brutal ex-Commander on her original vessel, the various attacks launched on the Initiative, and even it’s destruction.
Yet now, it seemed, she was going to die, she was going to die with people who she had never met before, and had no feelings towards but for pity, all due to the selfishness and fear of one man.
With her sense of sorrow, a large sense of anger and a lust for revenge hit her.
Turning to the disorganized rabble that huddled together in the shelter of the rocks, she called out, in the most orderly voice she could manage.
‘Who is the highest ranking Soldier here?’
A man with dark brown hair and a scar under his left eye raised a hand. Despite his fierce appearance, he was trembling with fear.
Renn looked hastily at his shoulder-Rank pad.
‘I outrank you.’ She said frankly.
The soldier nodded, hopeful that this stranger might become a commander to lead them from this living hell. His prayers were answered.
‘Come with me, we can survive and get to Emit Time, from there, we shall get to The Woofer, and we shall be true soldiers once more.’
The soldiers let out a half-hearted cry, and, ignoring the shells, they picked up their belongings and left the bodies of their comrades lying on the beach. It was time to make things right
After an hour of pointless conversation and attempting to get Proteus to talk by harming him, the Intelligence Officer had given up, and had told Fenir rather frankly that Hand appeared to be in some kind of waking coma, and he was unreachable by any means known to man.
While he trusted his officers, Fenir decided to sit in with Proteus anyway, to see if there was any change.
The Intelligence Officers had moved Proteus into a private cell so the Interrogation Room was free once more.
Now, Fenir sat next to Hand, while an Alliance Marine watched Proteus’ every move from through the cell door window, ready to burst in and sedate him if anything happened.
Those eyes…
Proteus stared at Fenir, as if seeing him for the first time.
Those turquoise eyes…
They had trudged for hours, leaving the beach by crawling, clothes dripping wet, in the ocean, all the time hoping, praying that they wouldn’t be spotted. When they had finally reached the Badnarik perimeter fence, there were tears of joy and hope.
Now, their clothes still drying out, the new Company walked East, towards the
Renn’s original plan had been to find a town and radio for a pickup to take them to Emit Time, or, she had thought hopefully, The Woofer. Their luck, it seemed, had ended with the beachhead escape; Sypharium had chosen their Headquarters wisely, burning and destroying any nearby villages and towns for miles around to provide maximum defensive supremacy.
This left the option of hitch-hiking, and for this, they would need to find a large vehicle, with the room for 12 People.
Sitting on the curbside, they took it in turns to hold out their arms, thumbs out in the universal sign of the hitch hiker. Abuse and litter was hurled at them from passing by Hover Cars and Trucks. The Message was clear; they were not welcome in this part of the World.
At last, one of the vehicles began to slow down, and the soldiers, weary and bored, threw their paranoia and common sense to the wind. Picking up their backpacks and guns, they approached the now parked Cargo Truck with a case of serious hopefulness. The driver dismounted his vehicle, waving jovially.
‘Hey there, I take it you people need a lift?’
Renn, taking charge once more, nodded tiredly.
‘I’ve just put a shipment in from the Tethys coast, so the back of the truck’s empty, if you people want to ride.’
Muttering with gratitude, some members of the troop clapping the driver on the back, they gratefully climbed into the back of the vehicle, replacing the tarpaulin behind them.