“Out of curiosity, how did it do that?” Argon asked me.
Since all I could do was stare dumbly at him, Cain answered. “It had her pinned and was starting to strip her with its tongue.”
His eyes widened. “You got lucky then. Thanks for putting your neck out for us, sweetheart. Uh, oh. Man, get her back. She’s in shock. She’s gaga eyed.”
“On it,” Cain said, reversing the ATV. “Hurry up. And take the flare gun. It scared them off the first time. Let’s hope it’s not needed a second.”
Argon saluted and shot me another worried look. In a moment, we were speeding along the dunes. I could feel my sanity slipping away. Hysteria was creeping in.
“Almost there,” Cain said, patting my knee again. “Just a bit longer. Hold on.”
And I did just by sheer will power.
* * *
Seventy two stitches later, I was lying on the lower cot in Cain’s quarters. Cain stood in the doorway, relaying what had transpired to some unknown person for the hundredth time. I was fighting off sleep to listen. I had flatly refused a painkiller, so the medic had insisted upon an anti-anxiety shot to stop the shaking. I felt drowsy and my eyes were drifting lower and lower.
Truthfully, I still almost couldn’t believe I was alive. There was no reason for my survival other than the fact that McRattin had taken pity on me. And considering I knew he hated me, that still didn’t make much sense.
The talking stopped and I heard the door close. Footsteps approached and stopped next to me. I dragged my eyes open and glanced up at Cain. He looked concerned. “That was a brave thing you did today.”
I shut my eyes again and mumbled, “You’re wondering why I did it.”
“Maybe,” he said, his voice getting closer. I heard the creak of the floor. Shivers ran up my spine as he brushed my hair aside from the bandages.
“I don’t understand you at all,” he murmured. “Are you in pain?”
“Yes,” I said, tripping over my words. Then I wondered just how potent these drugs were. I would never admit that in real life. “I mean no. I mean-”
There was a knock at the door. I didn’t move. Couldn’t was a better word. I felt like my control was under a damp, heavy blanket that I could reach but had no urge to. “Who’s that?”
“It’s me,” Argon’s voice floated in. “No one else was injured other than cuts and bruises. We’re all inside for the night, as per orders.”
“Good,” Cain replied, fingers still on my back. “We’ll head out at dawn. Her back should be healed well enough by then.”
“Are you feeling better, Sierrenna?”
“I think so,” I said blearily. “Not sure. I feel weird. I’m not supposed to be anxious, but anti-anxiety medicine isn’t supposed to make me feel…”
I struggled for the right word. Cain came out with it for me. “Out of control?”
I nodded with a sigh. “That’s it. I like control. It’s safer. More…”
“Predictable?”
“That’s it,” I said again over my semi-numb tongue. I heard a foot tapping.
“You didn’t,” Argon said, sounding unhappy. “She’ll kill you when she finds out.”
“And when will she? She won’t remember this tomorrow. The combination of the drug with the anti-anxiety meds will wipe it out. I want to know if she’s trustworthy.”
The truth hit me then. He had spiked me with a truth serum. I couldn't lie. He was a smart bastard. He knew I had trained myself how to deal with common drugs since I had told him, but the combination of an anti-anxiety medicine with the serum would impair my tolerance.
“I can hear you, shaitan,” I announced, unable to keep it to myself. “You don’t play nice.”
“Shaitan?”
“It means ‘devil’ in Arabic,” Argon replied for me, sounding bored. “This is going to come around and bite you in the ass. You know that.”
“Too late to go back now. So what’s your real name?” Cain demanded his voice silky smooth. I gritted my teeth together, trying to fight it. “None of that now. Relax.”
I heard a snort of disgust. “We both know why you’ve done this, Cain. Don’t play coy with me. I heard the argument. She has the information you want. You’re playing with fire here, so prepare to get burned. I won't be part of this. Have a good night.” The footsteps receded. I heard the door close. We were alone again.
“I asked for your name,” he asked again sweetly, unperturbed by his friend’s exit.
“Sierr… enna,” I struggled to lie.
“No, your real one. You can tell me.”
His statement hung like a lure for my lips. My brain wasn't far behind. I couldn't fight it. I would pour my secrets out to this man. And I did. “Rain... Rain Sierr.”
“That’s a nice name,” he said wickedly. “Clever how you twisted it around for your alias. Why didn't you kill me, Rain?”
I shuddered as I heard my old name. I tried to sit up and turn away from him, but couldn't manage it. I wound up grabbing the edge of the cot. A half-strangled protest escaped my throat. “I told you already.”
“Fine,” he said. “We can explore that in further detail later. Who do you work for? Where does the payment from your kills go?”
This information was easier to fork over. “I’m…an independent contractor. Money to homeless shelters, food banks, hospitals, slave auctions...”
If he was surprised by my charity, he didn’t let on. “And where did you get these?”
I moaned as he touched the deep gouge marks on my wrists. “No… Don't touch me.”
“Were you a slave?” he pressed on. I couldn’t help myself. I started to cry with earnest. I had no control over my reactions and this was the truth, my reality. I was seven years old again, yanking on the chains binding me to the stone block I had been tied to. I remembered what it was like as I snapped the bones in my hand and the skin shredded off. And that had been just one hand. The other had been even harder.
“Crying won’t make me go away,” Cain murmured.
“Get off of me,” I pleaded loudly. “I’ll give you anything. No-”
“I want the truth!” I felt the hand brush the hair at the nape of my neck aside and poke the brand on my neck. “Whose mark is this?”
I was completely lost. I screamed. Anti-anxiety medicine had no hold over me as I curled into a ball, shielding my head. I didn't care what was thought of me, I had to get away from the touch. It may not have burned now, but it may as well have. I could still hear the sizzling in my ears as I had been marked as a child, branded with a cattle iron.
“What the hell is going on?!” Argon’s voice penetrated my consciousness with the slamming of a door.
“I don’t know. She just totally flipped out.”
“Take your hand off her wrist.”
“Why?”
“Do it now!” As soon as he released me, I felt my entire body sag. I continued to cry, huddled against myself, but the memory wasn't as close. The hysteria was gone. Now what was plaguing me was the aftermath and the pain from my back. I could feel it bleeding again.
“I thought so,” Argon said, sounding sad. “That’s close to what she did when I touched her hand back in the hospital. That girl’s got PTSD. She hides it unless she’s drugged. You just had to go and push this-”
“How was I supposed to know?!” Cain exclaimed.
“I’ll get the medic back. She’s torn up her back again. She was going to give up her life for us, spared your worthless neck three times before that, and you still had to have your way!!”
“I didn't know she was going to react like this! All I wanted to know was the identity of-”
“Your father is dead, Cain,” Argon replied coldly. “No amount of hunting his killer is going to change that. She may know who put the bullet in his brain, but as she put it, the evidence is so deeply buried you will never find it.”
“She told you?” he said in a venomous voice.
“Not in so many words as
she confirmed the rumors.”
“Antigo?”
“I’m not telling you. You’re not trustworthy with it. If you want it so badly, you’re going to have to earn her trust and ask again. I think I had gotten a modicum of her trust before, but if she remembers this, you’ll have blown it for us both!”
“I don’t understand why you’re so angry. She’s only-”
“Only?” Argon thundered. “That’s where my problem is. Since when did you become as cold as the rest of the diplomats? They look at humans as walking dollar signs. You’re treating her like she’s an animal. She’s a human being for God’s sake! And one you just happened to have inadvertently tortured!”
“She’s murdered dozens-”
“And what do you call what we do? We kill. We’re soldiers. She’s one of us, just one outside the system! A dead, corrupt system might I add. She might well have the right idea. I’m sick of all this. I’ve been here in the service for far longer than you, boy, and my hands are far bloodier than yours. I’ve taken out targets and followed orders even when it’s been clear to me that those targeted didn’t deserve to die. Many times it was on your orders but I knew it was necessary. Now would you call me a murderer?”
Dead silence reached his words but he continued on, “And if you wanted to know that badly, that T on her neck stands for Tiranshyck. But I’m guessing you already knew that, didn’t you?”
I felt hands slip under my side and I whimpered.
“Easy, honey. I’ve got you,” Argon said soothingly.
I had no energy to stop him as he carried me away. He cradled me to his chest and I heard hushed murmurs as we passed through the halls. After several moments I was laid on a soft cushion and I could feel myself being examined.
I feigned sleep. I needed to remember this and I knew that the way to thwart the drugs was to resist unconsciousness until they wore off. I didn’t make a sound or even twitch as the wounds were re-stitched and dressed. Much to my surprise, Argon stayed through it, holding my hand. I replayed his defense of me over in my head a few times. I didn't get it. He was being way too nice to me. Even if he had accidentally discovered all of my motives, it didn’t explain the compassion. It worried me.
I was transported again to an unknown location and placed down. I felt him smooth my hair back and heard the creaking of another mattress.
“What’s going on?” That was Rig’s voice.
“Cain went too far in his quest for the truth,” Argon snapped. “I’ll tell you all in the morning. Get some sleep. And if anyone so much as touches this woman, they’ll have me to answer to.”
There was some more murmuring and then quiet. Snores started up. But I couldn’t sleep. I had to stay awake through the crystal dawn. I wouldn’t forget this anytime soon. I needed to remember who my enemies were, even when they started to seem like friends.
Chapter Nine05:05:12:43 to potential nuclear explosion
As soon as I felt the medicinal veil lift from my system, I was up and gone. I didn’t care if I was hunted by a thousand men. I would not stay here for another night. It was too dangerous for me, my health, and my sanity.
I left the small room Argon, Rig, and some other unnamed party were slumbering in. I needed to get moving and get what I needed. The trouble was my blades were still in the cabin that contained McRattin and I was not leaving without them.
His door was ajar when I crept up to it. The light was on. I could hear papers rustling. Drat. He was awake. I peeked in and saw he was at his desk shuffling over some maps. Dawn was creeping over the sky behind him. He never looked up. “Good. You’re up. I was going over the maps and thought perhaps you might advise-”
I stepped in, grabbed my swords and stepped back out. I threw them over my shoulders, ignoring the protest my heavily-stitched back gave me and kept going. I heard him call after me, but I ignored it. He must have thought I wouldn't remember last night, but oh did I ever!
A few people were standing about outside when I arrived. I didn't greet them as I stalked past. They, too, called out to me. I ignored them. I was done with the bull and wanted out. I had kept my end of the bargain and gotten nothing but grief. If I had to, I would track down the bomb myself. Be damned with these demons.
I didn’t get very far, however. I heard a voice calling out my name and it filled me with rage. “Rain! Please don’t go off like-”
Cain halted in his tracks as I whipped around in a move so fast most eyes wouldn't catch it, drew my katana, and held it against his throat. He gulped as my eyes all but burned a hole in his forehead. “Tell me right now why I shouldn’t do it, shaitan.”
He brought his hands up in surrender, realizing that I knew very well what he had done. He even had the sense to look sheepish. “Because if you do, you’ll prove me right. You wouldn’t want to prove Argon wrong now, would you?”
I thought about it for a second and then sheathed my sword. That in itself angered me. I was turning into a soft, pathetic, manipulable woman over these monsters and I hated that. They would turn on me with no hesitation and here I was, hesitating. I turned my back to him and kept walking.
“And where do you think you’re going? There’s nowhere to go out here.”
I didn’t reply and kept going. I was good and pissed off and knew better than to turn and confront him. It wouldn’t end well. Much as the idea of killing him was being egged on by my temper, I knew better. I would wind up grieving over this man that I despised.
In any case, I heard the sound of a gun being drawn. “If you don’t stop, I’ll be forced to shoot!”
“So shoot me,” I called over my shoulder tauntingly. “Then you’ll be a murderer, too.”
I kept moving. He didn’t shoot but kept following me. I felt some amusement over this. I was making a fool of him and I knew we had an audience. But to my annoyance, he kept on tailing me. “What do you want from me? If it were you, you know you would have done the same thing. Don’t you dare keep ignoring me! You are under my orders and-”
He ranted and then called out a few more times before I heard him stop. There were more swishes of sand after that. A few other voices chorused in, trying to dissuade me as well. Few I recognized, but I was already gone.
A few more minutes of walking and they were a spec in the distant dunes. A few moments more and I felt guilty for leaving them. But it wasn’t enough to make me turn back.
* * *
A few hours’ worth of walking in the desert was murder on my back. The sun beat down on me and my split stitches relentlessly. Living in the city, I had gotten soft. Pain like this was nothing for me since I had been trained to be impervious to it as a warrior. It wasn’t that hot, either. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to shield me from its heat, but that was okay. The sun didn't turn around and drug unsuspecting people.
At this moment I was busy plotting to figure out where to head next. Chernobial would probably be a good place to start looking for the nuke. All sorts of black market underlords hung out there. They might have a good idea of where it might be if it weren’t in their midst. The question was how I would get there, however. I had little time and getting there on foot would be impossible.
The smell of smoke was what alerted me to trouble. It was coming off a distant hill. And by the way the smoke drifted into the sky, I could tell it was burning out. It had been a big fire. And usually where that much smoke was, there had been an ambush. The question was whether there had been any survivors.
I went toward the smoke and stopped at the top of the rise to see what had happened. There wasn’t much left. It had been a caravan of gypsy traders. Their covered wagons were overturned, goods gone. Bodies littered the ground and I saw some that were far too young to have lost their lives. Children lay dead on the ground with their eyes open, guts strewn out on the merciless sands. Those who had committed this atrocity were the demons people called me out to be.
The crows were beginning to descend upon them. I threw a rock, scaring them away. While I
couldn’t very well bury all these people, they deserved some dignity in death. I felt sick as the stench of burning flesh rose around me. But over the low crackle of the diminishing fires, I heard a cry.
I ran over to where the baby’s wail had originated. The mother had been dead for some time. She was barely more than a child herself. I forced myself to look away from her wide open, sightless eyes and the gaping hole in her forehead as I rolled her aside. She had hid and shielded the child with her own body.
Picking the child up, I dropped the blood-soaked blanket and cradled it to my bosom.
“Shh,” I cooed, hoping I was doing it right. “It’s alright now. I’m here.”
The child continued to scream, and I didn't blame it one bit. Though its eyes weren't fully developed yet, I was sure in some way its spirit knew its mother was gone. The baby couldn't have been more than a few months old. I wondered how long it had been sitting here in the sun. Its forehead was red and hot, burned.
I tucked her under my cloak to shield her from the sun and stood. I wasn't looking forward to the grisly task of checking everyone to make sure there weren't any survivors. I didn't hold much hope there were any supplies I could give the baby either. She needed milk and that was one thing I was at a loss for. She would die quickly if she didn’t get it and I certainly couldn’t produce it. I wasn't a cow.
None of the others had made it. Both guns and machetes had dealt the death blows. These people had been unarmed and hadn’t had anything valuable as far as I could tell. And that meant one thing: slavers. Rage bubbled up in my veins and threatened to boil over. I wanted to hunt the bastards and chop them all to bits. Only the small squirming weight in my arms kept me level headed. She had wrapped her tiny fingers around mine and wouldn't let go.
Just as I was about to turn and start heading for the nearest town, I heard the distant roar of multiple all-terrain vehicles. I ducked behind one of the large wagon wheels and crouched down. I shushed the child and kept a wary eye on the horizon. When they drove up, I had never been so relieved to see people I hated. Argon was the first I recognized. Then McRattin roared up on his. They both surveyed the damage with hard eyes.
War Machine: Book One in the Destiny In the Shadows Series Page 10
