Cleo's Game

8. Consideration

Throughout that day in the unnamed, remote valley, Cleo must have made about a thousand projectiles. She exerted herself, training hard with Drew and becoming more in control of what she could do with her power. As the sky turned golden, they knew that it was time to head back. Cleo was leaning against a rock, catching her breath after the long day.

As they started to walk back to base, they made small talk. "So, are you happy about who's going on your expedition?" Drew asked. "Well, yes and no. Two of my friends are going on the expedition, but also that obnoxious moron, Mince. How about you? Are you happy with yours?" Cleo replied.

"Well, also yes and no. I know that I can trust Scream. He's been around for a while and gets put on expeditions all the time. I'm not sure about Blake, though. Trust me, it's not because she's a girl. I just feel like something is off about her. Maybe it's just how she is, and I have nothing to worry about." Drew answered.

Cleo pondered for a moment. She remembered what she had seen the night before. She could clearly see Blake climbing the fence and those bright yellow eyes underneath the luminescent lure staring back at her in the pitch darkness. She wondered if it was worth bringing up, as it's certainly an example of Blake being... shifty. On the other hand, Cleo had considered Blake a friend, despite how it currently seems one-way.

"She definitely has a unique personality," Cleo responded, withholding information about what she saw. Blake told on Cleo for sneaking out in the same night, so it makes it extra suspicious that she would sneak out later that night, knowing that she of all people has a terrible build for sneaking around. Her big, brawny body, bright yellow eyes, and the easily identifiable glowing lure that was omnipresent with her appearance.

"I saw her climbing a fence to leave base last night." Cleo admitted, finally ridding the words from her mouth. Drew raised an eyebrow. "That's interesting. I'll keep a note of that," Drew responded. This information did nothing to quell his growing suspicion of Blake. It was the way she never talked to anyone, always keeping to herself.

As they made their way back this time, they made sure not to pass through Berkenton. Not out of fear, but just because it's awkward. "You know, I usually just tunnel right under this place. It's quite fun," Drew told Cleo. "Would you like to do that this time? We'll probably get back before dark because it's faster," he continued, offering the option.

"Sure," Cleo nodded. Drew opened up a hole in the ground big enough for them to fit inside. It was full of mud and worms, and Cleo was already full of regret. Before she could change her mind, Drew was already making his way through the tunnel. Cleo followed after him, not wanting to be left behind. She was impressed with how masterfully he was manoeuvring the mud, creating a spacious walkway. The mud wall in front of them was pushed forward as they ventured further.

After a few minutes of subterranean travel, there was light at the end of the tunnel. The mud crumbled up and rolled off of the two of them as they exited the tunnel towards the dim peach-coloured sunlight that remained. The familiar base was just down the hill from where they were standing. "You know, things are alright right now," Drew noted.

"Things are alright?" Cleo asked. "Yeah, things are alright. We've come a long way. We're coming back to a hot meal and somewhere to sleep." Drew said, as sentimental feelings washed over him. Cleo smiled and nodded. "It is really nice. A couple of years ago, we couldn't even read, but now look at us," she mentioned, sharing the happiness that comes from their improved lives.

By the time they made their way down the hill, the last of the sunset had passed. They walked into base separately, but after that day together, they were closer than they had ever been before. The canteen was quiet and nearly empty, but it was still open. Cleo was the last to be served that night, with a hot, spicy stew that contained potatoes, onions, and parsnips.

The outside of her body was cold until the stew warmed her up from the inside. It was satisfying and delicious, and it quelled the sizeable appetite that had been built up. She was almost surprised by how good it was. She finished the bowl and got up from the empty table. The air was cold, and when she breathed, it was visible. The canteen looked like it was about to close, so she walked over to it again.

"Hey, are there any leftovers?" Cleo asked the boy running the stand. He looked shy, as if it were his first day around base. Cleo certainly hadn't seen him before, despite their similar ages. He just stared into open space, ignoring her question. "Hey," she repeated, getting his attention. "Oh, sorry, I just zoned out for a while," the boy nervously chuckled.

"Can I help you, soldier?" he asked. His phrasing caught Cleo off guard, and she laughed. "Why is another soldier calling me that?" she joked. "Oh, I'm actually not military. My family's business was recently contracted to cater for the barracks; it's our first night," he explained. "Huh, that explains why the food was so much better today," she complimented.

"I'm Cleo, by the way," she introduced herself. "I'm Vincent," he replied. "Nice. So, are there any leftovers? That's what I came over to ask." "Yeah, there's a little bit left; you can have all of it because we make food fresh every day." Vincent explained. "I think I'm falling in love," Cleo joked while putting her bowl onto the counter to put the last of the stew into.

Vincent took a moment to process the sentence before nervously laughing. He served her the last of the stew, and they both went on their ways. Cleo slept that night the most satisfied that she had ever slept, with warmth in all aspects of her life. She knew great things were on her path ahead.