Crashing Tides

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Crashing Tides Page 8

by Gwendolyn Marie


  “Lyra is named after Orpheus’s instrument,” Leander said to Nyx. “The brightest of the stars is said to be a jewel in his lyre named Vega, the Falling eagle. You seem to enjoy Greek mythology; do you remember that myth?”

  “Most. Orpheus is the musician who faced the Underworld to bring his wife back?”

  “Yes,” he said, and she saw that he was pleased she remembered. Perhaps he thought her memories could come back if she still retained some knowledge of before. But thankfully he did not bring up her amnesia as he continued speaking about Orpheus. “And though he moved Hades with his music and had him agree to release Eurydice, he failed to follow the conditions. He looked back before they were out of the Underworld, and so he lost her forever.”

  “Is Orpheus himself among the stars?”

  “No. After Orpheus lost Eurydice, he died at the hands of the Maenads, the crazed followers of the god of wine,” he responded. “They tore him limb by limb and threw his body into the river Lesbos; there was not much left of him to put into the stars. His lyre also was thrown into the river but was found by Apollo, who had originally given the instrument to the musician. He convinced Zeus to place it within the heavens to honor Orpheus.”

  Death at the hands of the Maenads, she reflected on his words and how they paralleled her view of the Chaots as Maenads. Hopefully the fate of Orpheus would not be theirs.

  “Are you glad you decided to stay?” Leander asked. His gaze moved away from the stars to look at her. “If you were alone you ...”

  He could not finish his sentence for it would reveal his feelings, something he could not do, stopped by the nature of their circumstance. Accordingly, she spoke so he would not have to. “If I were alone, I would miss such stories and tales of the Wabanaki and the stars.”

  “Ah, but I am a one story type guy,” Dio said, cutting in. He saw the way Leander looked at Nyx, and he was glad that his friend had found someone to take the focus off the horrors that befell humankind. However, one was not thrilled over Leander’s attraction.

  Megaira sat stone cold, a misguided sense of resentfulness chiseled into her. She opposed taking Nyx into the company to begin with, and now the commander’s smitten behavior made her believe it was more than a mistake. No longer could Nyx see the shimmer of fellowship between herself and Megaira that was there moments ago. It had shriveled, disappearing under Megaira’s concept of her hindering their ultimate goal. Luckily, Dio saw this anger and started to talk to Megaira again about the differing possibilities of why the war started. He must have been hopeful that he could distract her and afford the two some privacy.

  “Promise that you will tell me before you do leave, Nyx. Say goodbye. Do that for me,” Leander said.

  “Just for you then,” she said in agreement to his lighthearted request, trying not to be too unsettled by Megaira’s animosity toward her.

  He smiled in gratitude, relaxing from his otherwise duty-driven conduct. “What would I do without you?”

  “Worry less?” she answered, moving her hand to brush against his. In the bare essence of it all: as he was to her, she was to him.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  “And what would I do without you?”

  “Hmm ...” A cringe creviced Leander’s forehead as if deep in thought, the indistinct conversation of Dio and Megaira the only noise as he mused over her question. “Worry more?”

  “No,” A playful tone in her response, given to the playful answer. Leander knew the opposite would be so, for if anything, he was becoming someone she did care for, and would worry for.

  “I know then: become a singer and go on to a long and prosperous career?”

  Humor posed an peculiar exchange to her; it was foreign. Alien. Yet still desired. She paused finding the words appropriate to continue their banter, “Everyone knows it is as a guitarist and not a singer that I would excel as.”

  “Have you ever even played a guitar?” A chance to get to know her, a chance to break through her wall to see even a small part of her past.

  “No,” she admitted, knowing that she had never even heard one played before. Only the orchestra of the skies rang familiar. “But I’ll find a teacher somewhere, somehow.”

  Maybe the Fisherman would return to teach her again, of all the skills humanity had.

  “Nyx,” Leander said, falling into seriousness. It was a chance he had to take. “I have to know how you survived. It could mean helping other pockets of survivors.”

  “I told you. I do not remember,” she said. She pulled away, as he responded with a darkened expression as she saw the struggle within him. He could not allow his feelings to detract from what could potentially help the remnants left of humankind.

  “Leander—” came an interruption. Megaira stood, focusing on her commander as if Nyx did not exist. “—she is lying. Stop treating her as if a comrade or a friend. She is the enemy. The only land survivors are probably the ones who are to blame for the Chaots!”

  Leander stood, his height slightly taller than Megaira, but his presence dictating even more of a variance. “It is not your decision, Megaira. We will not go around accusing or convicting survivors without evidence.”

  “The evidence is that she survived. Why should she, when no one else did!”

  “Stand down and leave Nyx alone. Or face me,” Leander continued, his voice inflexible, “I am going to replace Hector now so he can get some food and rest. I suggest the rest of you turn in for the night as well.”

  Silence steamed off of the frigid fair-haired soldier. Nyx was not threatened by her outburst, but rather intrigued. Megaira was the sole one who saw through the naivety. She sensed the threat she could pose, whereas no others could. Neither Nyx nor Megaira knew the truth of the danger or the extent of it. But both understood it was there.

  Hector returned; the demeanor of the story-telling ambience dissipated in his presence. Nyx could tell that the other soldiers regarded him with reverence, but the kind that also separated him from them. He would never cheerfully weave the tales of Dio nor feel at rest in banter. A heavy-hearted rogue—if not for war, she could not imagine where his place in society would be.

  Dio left for his tent to get rest before his watch, and Megaira sat near Hector cleaning her gun and its cylinders. Nyx was about to retreat for the night, when Hector stood and motioned to her. Megaira’s lips twitched in anticipation, hoping that her fellow soldier had finally decided to take Nyx out to the back to either chase her away from their squad or kill her. She preferred the latter.

  Nyx followed without pause. If he chose to release her into the wilds, she would welcome it. As one takes a feral animal back to where they belong, she hoped the warrior would revoke her commitment to the soldiers. But he turned to her, and spoke with a camaraderie in his tone.

  “Together we live. Alone we shall die. But the Chaots die together, every moment taking from them another piece of their humanity. Nyx, I need to be assured they will not strip that humanity from you.”

  He held his revolver out before she could answer, though not in hostility that he did so.

  “We use assault rifles for combat, but I think its best you start with this. This revolver holds six shots, less than a semi-automatic, however it has a greater reliability.”

  Hector placed the weapon in her hands, directing her how to load the gun. Then he stood behind her to align her stance and aim. The physical power contained within him clear as he moved her to the proper form. He instructed her on all aspects of the firearm, but they did not discharge any bullets due to the sound, not wishing to give away their location.

  “And if I am without a weapon?” she questioned, giving Hector back his gun. She knew the answer even before it left his mouth, and looked forward to learn how to fight—not with the manmade, but with more primal skills.

  “You are never without weapons; you must learn how to kill with your hands,” Hector replied, accepting his gun back to explain close range combatives. “Since you are not muscular, y
ou may not believe you stand a chance in hand to hand combat. It is not about the mass of your body but your ability to use equilibrium, momentum, and leverage in attacking an opponent. And not only physical balance, but mental. Do not allow fear nor anger to blind you. Seize the unexpected, for if an opponent is ready and expects an attack you will lose the advantage.”

  He turned her, placing one arm underneath her neck and another on the occipital region of her skull. She felt where his hands touched, and the angles that he used as he gradually twisted her head.

  “Break the neck if from behind or even at the side of your opponent, but do so when it is unexpected to gain the advantage. Remember that by using leverage you can defeat a larger and stronger adversary. Use the natural, instinctual movement of your own body to bring them into the unnatural, and hence control their fate.”

  He demonstrated once more on her, before showing her the proper hand placement, torsion, and movement on himself and techniques to bring him down to her level. “But it is best to not rely on only your hands. Use your surroundings or anything in your possession. Slice their carotid artery if you have a sharp instrument. If you have a blunt item, use it to cave in their skull. Fight dirty, be fearless.”

  “Feels better than the gun,” she said, as she moved to repeat his actions. Nyx practiced kicking him in the leg to bring him to her reach, then her arms drew around his head in an imitation twist. Then she learned the weak points one would focus on to kill. Much better than a gun, as she could feel her pulse quicken, practicing her onslaught. She let him loose, before rehearsing the movements several more times—each from a different angle. No rest, even as sweat pearled on their heads, as he went on to the next lesson.

  “In fighting face to face, use the eye gouge, head butt, or collar grab choke,” he said, and then subsequently demonstrated the three tactics. He focused on the choke for it presented less likelihood of fluid contact between the attacker and attacked.

  “Remember, timing must be precise. If you move too soon, the enemy will anticipate your attack. If you move too late, the enemy will attack you first,” he paused, one hand grasped her shoulder. She anticipated that he would show her another technique, but instead he simply looked at her in solemn decree of the most important lesson. “Strike to kill,” he said. “Nothing less.”

  “I will.”

  “I have no doubts, Nyx. Your innocence is only so deep. I saw you with the Chaot from the tree. I saw your rage. And I know you will do what you must.”

  The branches of the forest trembled in movement. Hector fell silent, quickly pivoting his gun’s aim toward the intrusion. A Chaot did not emerge, but Megaira. She came through the dark of night, as it threw shadows across her face. Despite the dim outline of her face, Nyx perceived the smile gracing the Megaira’s lips fall suddenly when she saw Nyx. She had expected Hector there alone with the outsider taken care of: dead or gone. The illusion shattered, however, as she saw her comrade standing near to the other, speaking in companionship. Resentment and jealousy came as Megaira stared upon the fabricated green-eyed monster of Nyx.

  “Hector, I thought ...” Megaira began.

  Hector turned to Nyx, removing his hand on her shoulder in parting. “Remember all that I have said.”

  “Good night Hector. Megaira,” Nyx said, knowing that Megaira would not return her farewell. Taking leave and into the mosquito-net tent, Nyx left the two behind. She wished to let sleep come, for it would be the first she could remember. How would dreams feel? But she could not, for the conversation between Megaira and Hector interrupted the quietude of the forest.

  “I thought you would get rid of her!” Megaira’s voice resonated in a hushed shout.

  “She is not the demon you imagine,” Hector replied.

  “She is not the harmless survivor that you picture either.”

  “I never stated such. But why is it that you do not want her among us? Even if she is the enemy, she is presenting no imminent danger. If anything we can learn from her. She could be immune, she could give knowledge to what happened on the land.”

  “We see what happened, death. She is not talking of how she survived, which means she is hiding something or is a trap. And if she is immune, it’s too late anyway. Everyone is dead or far gone! We should just kill her and bring her body back to study if you want to research a cure,” she said, though Nyx could not tell if the tone was in seriousness or exasperation to kill her. She knew one thing—that Megaira wanted her to hear that threat. “Anyways, I do not trust her. And you know as well as I we do not have any epidemiologists or biologists who specialize in anything other than marine biology! They would not know how to make a cure from her, if even she is immune. Though no one can be immune, you know that.”

  Hector was silent, and in her anger she started repeating what they had been told many times before. “We cannot be immune to this Prion disease. I don’t even see why we search for this fabled antidote; there can be no cures, no immunities, no resistance to them. Vaccines cannot be made for prions due to their high heat resistance. Death, or becoming a Chaot, are the only outcomes. The land is not ours anymore.”

  “Then why did you come.” Hector spoke, but it did not seem like a question and, considering the hateful pause which followed, was definitely not one which Megaira answered honestly.

  “The research station is, and should be our only target for this mission, as it was before. Then I hope you will see that our place is in Thalassic. And Leander is compromising the mission because of her. He even mentioned her possible immunity, when he knows that is impossible. If she ever becomes contaminated I will kill her. And I’m beginning to doubt if he will, or if he would rather compromise our safety.”

  “He would never allow his feelings to interfere, as we do not,” Hector said. His voice grew subtle, a hint of tenderness that Nyx did not expect. The affection towards Megaira becoming clear, even if strained by the situation. Nyx turned away in the mosquito net, wishing to afford them their privacy but the proximity deemed otherwise, carrying the soldiers’ voices.

  “When this battle is done ...” Megaira said, but then paused mid-sentence. The future that she hoped for was left unstated. A dream with Hector by her side, but it would only ever be a dream, asserted as he spoke.

  “It will never be over, Megaira.”

  “We should have just stayed in Thalassic. We could have lived there. Together.”

  Hector’s silence indicated that the barrier he allowed down for moments was already being constructed again. Megaira did not know him if she believed he would be happy while sedentary in the Thalassic. In reaction to his reticence, Megaira tromped away; the underbrush and fallen branches cracking under the weight of her steps. Nyx heard a parting hiss coming from her, damning Hector for being anything but what Megaira desired. Damning him for being anything other than what she needed.

  Chapter Eight: Megaira

  Twenty years previous: In the time before the war

  The little girl in mismatched pigtails looked at the live feed recording in the waiting room with awe. She clutched onto her dolphin stuffed animal, so much so that some of the stuffing popped out from the opening in its stitches.

  “Look momma! He’s doing the same thing as me!” she said, pointing at the television. Megaira looked over to her mother, hoping her excitement would be shared but her mom just sat there, taking a long, annoyed drag from the cigarette. She knew the researcher had asked her mom to please dispose of it. She didn’t know why the researcher did not allow the cigarettes but hoped her mom would have listened. Meg didn’t want to leave this place.

  When they first got here, she had been brought into the back room to figure out a puzzle box. It was painted black and the researcher demonstrated how to open it up. Knock on the top, turn a knob, pull down a handle, then knock on the side and lift a lever. Then the little door on the front unlocked and a treat popped out! She was so excited to do this herself and get her own treat but that was not even the most exciting part
!

  The researcher escorted her back to the waiting room and turned on the live feed tv. There sat a black furry creature right where she just was. A chimpanzee, like from the zoos! And it did the same task, repeating the steps the researcher showed it and getting a treat.

  “He’s just like me!”

  Her mom did not respond again, though that couldn’t stop her amusement. Her mom often took her to different labs, though typically they were no fun at all. But her mom said she had to contribute and be useful somehow, because otherwise she was pretty useless. And the research studies gave them some money to help out. Not that there was anything special about Meg, they were just studies needing normal children participants. Most parents did not want to bring their kids or even consider it; her friend even said that Meg was going to end up with three ears! She did not think so, but they were normally boring. But this time was so awesome! Seeing the chimpanzee and even getting a treat was the greatest thing that had ever happened to her.

  The researcher came in again, a big smile brightening her face. “Did you like seeing Sulango?”

  “Oh yes! That was so cool!”

  She laughed and reached out to offer her hand to the child. “There is one more box to open and treat to be had, if you are ready?”

  Meg took the lady’s hand, and was led back to the lab again. Another box was there, though this time it was transparent. You could see everything inside it, all the mechanisms that made it work. The researcher did the steps again, and Meg sat there with a big smile on her face as she repeated the steps and then got her treat. Then she was led back again to the waiting room.

 

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