Objective Consequence (Book Two of the Subjective Justice series)

Chapter Two: Trust No One

The scent of smoke and metallic tang of blood clung to the clothes of the other vigilantes whose footsteps grew closer, dragging in exhausted motions across the sand. Fear and uncertainty wafted from the survivors, the emotions thicker than the scent of burning bodies in the air.

"Where's Akio?" Chester's deepening voice asked, cracking on the last syllable.

Indra swung her good leg down, setting it cautiously on the ground and doing an awkward hop to remove her injured ankle from the other side of the zip line. "She went to take out the snipper and look for those missing."

He growled. "That idiot! She's supposed to be our starshitted leader and keeps putting her life on the line in battles. Doesn't she know that's not her role anymore? Tell your Lizzassed girlfriend to stop being such a starshitted mor--"

Whacking Chester in the stomach with her cane, Indra clung to the zipline for support. "Watch your mouth."

He groaned.

"I don't have the patience for your starshit today. Do I think Akio is making the best choice? No. Am I going to allow the vigilantes in her command, in our command to openly insult her or command me? No. If you have a complaint, write a holomessage and send it to a damned secretary," she spat, not trying to hide the sharp edge to her tone.

Chester's scuffling footfalls retreated when Indra raised her cane a second time. The damned starshit didn't know when to be quiet. Teenagers. Indra couldn't stand teenagers.

Leaning heavily on her cane, Indra attempted to make her way toward the transport. Her cane dipped in the uneven terrain. Weight slammed into her injured ankle when it hit the surface. Burning agony traveled up her leg and she fell to the ground.

Dammit!

A hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her back to her feet.

Indra clenched her hands tightly to keep from attacking the vigilante for the unsolicited contact. It was as if a thousand tiny insects were burrowing into Indra's skin from where their hand rested, supporting her weight. She reminded herself to breathe. They offered the help she needed, nothing else. Nothing else.

Nothing. Else.

Despite the repeated chanting, the tightness in her chest lingered. "My ankle is broken, it needs to be wrapped until we can get back to the mansion."

"Yeah, it doesn't look good," a soft coo stated.

Nanon?

No.

Nanon was dead.

Sali's voice simply had an uncanny similarity. Probably didn't help that they were sisters.

"Thanks, Sali," Indra said quietly.

She hated the fact that she was disappointed. It had been three years. Indra knew Nanon was dead, she had clung to her body as each system shut off one by one. The sensation of life leaving her girlfriend's body still haunted her dreams. 

Sali gripped tighter around Indra's middle, before raising her slightly off the ground for a moment. "No problem."

The response was curt. Sharp. Indra could still hear the bitter edge, the reminder that there was no forgiveness offered in Sali's eyes for what she had done. It was suppressed and ignored, no other options were feasible. Revenge wouldn't bring Nanon back. Nothing would. 

Indra reached her cane out, tapping the ground to determine how much further they had to go. This terrain wasn't entirely familiar to her, but she remembered it got rocky before they reached the cliff-face. Still more sand than stone, they weren't anywhere close yet.