𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐀 | 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐍

𝐈𝐈.𝐗𝐈𝐈

Valen and Levi unmounted their horses, fastening the reins of their horses around the trunks of some nearby trees. The others had agreed to come meet them here regardless of whether they found anything or not. "You good on ammo?" Levi asked, uttering his first words to her since they'd departed from Orvud.

"Yes," Valen responded; she'd ensured she carried plenty before even thinking of stepping foot outside the barracks. "You?"

"I'm good, however, I have a feeling the rifle the Garrison loaned me might be defective. The safety grip doesn't engage as quickly as it should." Valen tested the reins of her horse, making sure they'd hold well. "If anyone survived the explosion, they likely wouldn't have made it from here. They'd be too injured to do so. I'm just hoping there's only one or two of them running around. More than that, and we might have a problem."

"Indeed." It was a realistic scenario—the ODM gear the Anti-Personnel Squad had developed was arguably more advanced than the contraptions currently strapped to her hips. If any of them still possessed their gear, Valen and Levi's odds could quickly turn against them.

"Captain Levi!" One of the Scouts who had accompanied them—a pudgy, brown haired man in his thirties—raced over to them, perspiration glossing over his slightly sunburnt skin. He looked stricken with fear, as if he'd stumbled upon a horde of abnormals on an expedition.

The man's rifle bounced on his back as he skidded to a halt. "What? You look like you're about to shit yourself," Levi commented.

"It's Kenny Ackermann," the man breathed out. Valen and Levi shared a startled look. The man pointed over their shoulders. "He's right under a tree, over there. It doesn't look like he's lasting for long."

They glanced in the direction the man had pointed in, where the woods hugged the side of the field. Under one of the trees standing at the edge of the forest rested a man, or rather what remained of one. Bright red blood glistened in the sunlight, glazing over his half burned face like polish. It'd dripped from his chin, staining his brown vest and the white buttoned shirt he wore under it too.

"There's also a woman," the Scout added, signaling to a family of beech trees standing alone in the middle of the field—a woman straggled along, her hands tightly wrapped around her midsection. She too was bloodied, blood caking over her right eye and the side of her face. Her platinum blond hair, now out of its tight bun, glimmered so brightly that Valen wanted to cover her eyes. Valen recognized her even in her heavily injured state.

Cloak.

"She's not as weak as her Captain, but she hasn't much time on her hands either." And he was right—Cloak slowed to a stop under one of the smaller trees, easing her weakened body against its trunk. She sank to the grass and tilted her head back, reclining it against the tree's trunk. Squinting, Valen made out a dark bloodstain blooming on the woman's shirt.

"Thank you. Head back, and bring the others with you." Without a single word, the man spun on his heel.

"I was under the impression we'd all be searching for a while," Valen said, puzzled by Levi's untimely dismissal of the party.

"If Kenny's on his last leg, and his second-in-command is on the verge of death, then it's safe to assume that the rest are as good as dead," Levi answered plainly. "I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask him."

"Kenny?"

"Yeah. There are some... things I need explained," Levi said. "And you?"

Valen blinked. "Pardon?"

"The woman over there—I'm assuming she's the one who stabbed you, right?"

Of course she is. How could she erase her from her mind? There was nothing forgettable in the vicious way her blue eyes had pierced through the bushes that night. "Yes, she is," Valen answered quietly.