"She can't be too far. We weren't that far from the caravan when we left her," Eight-ball grumbles as we trudge through the bushes. "Damn it, I could have sworn she was right around here..."
He trails off as he pushes a few tree branches out of the way, a slow smile pulling at his lips when he sees a frowning Bridge sitting against the tree.
"Well, speak of the devil. Here. Give me your hand."
"Took you long enough to get here," She grouses as he helps her stand. She has to lean against him to keep pressure off of her leg, which she's wrapped her jacket around to slow the bleeding. "The caravan okay?"
I nod proudly. "Oh, yeah. We were able to get there in time to warn everybody. Eight shot that punk ass bandit leader that was gonna let one of his crew members eat me."
"Serves him right," Eight agrees. "But yeah, we got there in time. Mia took lead and ordered everyone around."
Bridge chuckles. "She's good at that. And it looks like we've got everything wrapped up and can continue moving." Her smile fades, which immediately strikes worry through me. "There's just one thing that bothers me."
"M'yeah, what's that?"
"Well, you saw the guys that attacked us, right? Ripped clothes, pathetic armor, only a few guns."
Eight looks at me in confusion, then back to her. "Yeah, so? I mean, you're gonna comment on their bad fashion sense?"
She scoffs. "Well, look. I mean, come on. How-how do people like that afford something like zom attractant? That stuff's expensive, and it didn't even really work."
"Maybe they traded their clothes for it," He replies sarcastically, and I snicker. Bridge scowls at the both of us.
"And how did Arc suspect something like that in the first place? If you ask me, it seems like something's up."
I suck on the inside of my cheek, not stupid enough to chew lest I cut my mouth open. She does have a point there. My dad taught me a lot of things before I ran off. Or at least, he tried to. Being a Remnant I didn't inherit his near perfect memory, but I tried to remember what he taught me, just in case it came in handy. Zom attractant wasn't something I was ever well versed in, and while it may be due to my inexperience, Bridge and Eight-ball didn't recognize it either.
But Arc... she suspected and confirmed it right away.
Eight-ball shrugs nonchalantly. "Yeah. I mean, maybe. We're just mercs, right? I mean, that's-that's what you're always tellin' us. We don't ask the reason. We just do the job."
She looks like she wants to argue, but then she sighs. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Let's get back. We still have a job to do."
He clicks his tongue and glances at me. "You hear that? Come on, Rookie. Let's get back. There's still work to do. Yay."
I really shouldn't find his sarcasm as endearing as I do, which is why I try to hide the smile that etches across my face. My attention quickly turns to Bridge when she tries to take a step forward and winces.
"I can carry you if you want," I suggest, probably a bit too eagerly. "I know I can do it. Used to have to carry my brothers all the time when they hurt themselves at home."
Bridge shakes her head. "No, don't. Don't want you hurting that arm any worse."
I look at my arm and the puncture wounds left by the Semper Mort. The bleeding's mostly stopped now, with the dried blood streaks starting to flake off bit by bit. "But I'm fine-"
"It's alright. I've got it," Eight-ball interrupts, picking Bridge up himself. He doesn't notice the frustrated look on my face, or the way my shoulders scrunch up to my ears. I know better than to argue. It won't get me anywhere and it'll just make me look even more inexperienced.
I just hate how I've been with these guys for months and they still treat me as if I'm some stupid novice. I know they care about me, and they're very supportive and kind, but God, this is annoying! I trudge on, looking down at the gun in my hand before holstering it.
"Don't know if you knew this, but you weigh about as much as an actual bridge," Eight-ball complains after a few minutes of moving.
"Real cute." She sneers at him. "Remember the time I hauled your ass out of Brook Lands?"
"Yeah, I do. And you complained the whole way, so you can call this payback."
"Remind me who's paying you again?"
"Well, whoever it is clearly isn't payin' me enough."
"I can carry her if you want to take a break," I volunteer hopefully, but that hope deflates when they ignore me.
"Look. Let's just get back to the caravan, alright? We're barely halfway to where Arc wants to go."
"Sure. Sure. Still don't know why they want to go all the way to Del Phia."
Bridge shrugs. "Like you said. It's not our place to question why. We just need to get them there and get the job done."
I hear a growl nearby.
"Oh, shit," I murmur as Eight-ball groans.
"Damn it. More zoms. Rookie, pick up the pace. Let's run."
We take off, and I grab my pistol and start firing at anything I see move around the trees. I only miss a few times, but for the most part I hit the zoms. It's at least something I can do right, and something they'll let me do.
Although I still get reprimanded when I slow down to shoot some of the shamblers and put myself in between the zoms and the two people ahead of me. I roll my eyes. Do they really think so lowly of me that I'd let myself get a chunk taken out of me?
How disappointing.
I fire once, twice, thrice, taking down zombies with each pull of the trigger. Eight-ball grins at me.
"Nice shootin', Rookie. I'd help ya, but my hands are a little bit full."
"I can do it on my own," I reply, hiding the slight grit in my voice. I twist again and poke out my tongue a bit in concentration before pulling the trigger. The sound the zom makes as the bullet goes through its head is music to my ears.
"Stop lagging and get going, Eight," Bridge barks. "Those zoms are gaining."
He scowls at her. "Well, I wouldn't be lagging if-oh damn!"
He startles when a rotten hand suddenly shoots out from behind a tree, and in doing so, he nearly drops Bridge.
"Watch out!" She yells, and I swing my gun around, not at all steady as I pull the trigger. There's a screech along with the gunshot, with the sound of brains spattering against the nearest tree following as the zom falls to the ground.
I grab Eight-ball's arm and pull him along until he's steady on his feet, and not about to drop Bridge. She looks at him with knitted brows.
"See what happens when you don't pay attention?"
"Yeah, the Rookie keeps showin' me up," He replies, and I shrug.
"I did offer to carry her."
"And we said no because you're injured."
I groan. "You both act as if I'm some-some sort of princess or something, too fragile to do anything."
"Princess, huh?" The face Eight-ball makes as he says that tells me he's about to say something that will really piss me off. "Maybe we'll start calling you that after you've worked off your Rookie title."
I glare daggers at him. "Don't you dare."
The way his eyes dance with amusement only makes me angrier. "And you said you were a natural at messing with me. Looks like it's the other way around, Princess."
"You-"
"Leave her alone, Eight-ball," Bridge says. "She did just save your ass."
"Yeah!" I agree. "And if you make me stop liking you so much, I might not do so next time."
He tilts his head to the side, seeming genuinely curious. "You like me?"
"'Course I do. Otherwise I would have shot you when you called me Princess."
He snorts and shakes his head. "Oh, good. I can see the caravan up ahead."
Arc is waiting for us when we make it to the caravan, a relieved look on her face when she comes to see us. "You made it back safely. Is your captain okay?"
"I'll be just fine," She replies as Eight sets her down. "Just gotta get stitched up by our medic."
She nods quickly. "Yes. Go do that. I don't want to keep you."
"Thanks. Hey, Eight, give our employer here a run down of the specifics. You know, maybe some of the things we talked about? I'm gonna hobble off and go get some proper bandages."
He nods. "Sure thing, Cap."
As she limps off, Arc looks at the two of us with a raised brow. "What's she talking about?"
Eight rocks back and forth on his heels as he speaks. "Oh, just the fact that whole stick up seemed... pretty weird. I mean, it's not like your expedition was advertised. Information doesn't travel across the wasteland that fast."
"I wouldn't worry about it too much. There are always dangerous things out there."
I make a face. That's not the answer I was hoping for, although Eight-ball is good at playing it off.
"Oh, sure, sure. Just want to be sure our crew isn't at risk, ya know? Job's got to be worth the payout."
"Don't worry. You'll get your payout. And I can't imagine something like this will happen again."
"Mhmm."
"I better see to the rest of my caravan. We're heading forward again soon. Need to make good time before dark sets in. Pass along to your captain that you're doing good work."
As she walks off, Eight slings his arm around my shoulders. "You know, I think Bridge was right, Rookie. I have a feeling there's something up."
I look up at him expectantly. "So what should we do?"
"Just... keep your wits about you." As he pulls away he lets his hand slide across my clothed back and I shudder. "Still a long way to Del Phia."
•
A loud, fearful shriek hits my ears, and it's the only warning I get before a foot slams into my chest and I'm sent sprawling off the steps of the caravan and onto the ground. A painful hiss leaves my lips as more shouts fill the air, and I look up to glare at the open door of the caravan. The light from the inside shows the shadow of the figure in the doorway, her hand clasped over her mouth in shock.
"What the hell is going on here?!" Bridge shouts as she runs up to me. She's still limping, but one good thing about Infection is that it causes us to heal faster than our ancestors. What would have taken them months to heal only takes days for us.
Eight-ball is a step behind her, along with Wires and Tapper, two other mercenaries in our group. Arc is there in a second, eyes wide at the sound of screaming.
"I-I'm sorry!" The woman at the caravan door yells. "I-I thought she was going to get into the caravan and hurt us."
A choked noise leaves my lips. "Hurt you?! You're the one who invited me in!"
I was telling her about some of the history about pre-Fall after I overheard the woman comment about how sad some of her food looked on her plate, about how some of this stuff probably wasn't even considered edible before the Fall. She was wrong, but her ignorance meant little to me as I decided to take this as an opportunity. I gave some facts, made up some bullshit that no one would correct me on since I know more pre-Fall history than anyone else here, and it got me right where I wanted.
Until I laughed at a joke and smiled a bit too wide, startling the woman. Suppose I should have expected such a response from a Pure Blood. The ones who lived in Crystal Creek acted the same way.
"That was before I saw your teeth! It scared me!" She replies, and I push away the hands that try to help me to my feet. I stand and dust myself off.
"Oh, we both know that's not the real reason."
She doesn't say anything, but I know. My teeth is partially to do with it, but not because it scared her, but because it's a mutation. More specifically, it's a Remnant mutation. It's not uncommon for Pure Bloods and Remnants to harbor hatred for each other, with Pure Bloods being just that, whereas Remnants are the opposite, the blood of different strains running through our veins. Depending on what generation the Remnant is, there could be dozens of different strains mixed into their genes.
Too bad it does us no good.
Bridge gives Arc a dry look. "Arc, keep your people in line. I won't tolerate them hurting my crew, mistake or not. My Rookie's already got hurt once today in order to protect your caravan. I don't want those very people in the caravan hurting her too. And Rookie, stay away from the people of the New Reach Caravan. We want to talk to them as little as possible."
"Yes, Captain," I reply with a sigh, and I hope that no one can see the way my face flushes from all the eyes on me. I quickly turn and walk off, keeping my head down and letting my hair shield my face as I continue on.
"Hey, Princess, hold on just a second!" Eight calls after me, and I sigh.
"If you're going to make fun of me, can you wait to do it tomorrow when the sting isn't as fresh?" I ask, and he scoffs.
"Always so quick to judge, Princess. I wasn't followin' you to make fun of you. Wanted to see if you were okay. She must've kicked you pretty hard."
"'M fine. Just feeling a bit stupid."
"I bet," He snickers, although his smile softens when I side eye him before sitting down at a quieter spot, just off the edge of the fire and a good ways off from the caravan. "But what were you doin' over there? You're not one to take up offers to hang around people, except for me, of course. But uh, I think that's because... what was it you said earlier, because you like me so much?"
I roll my eyes, not bothering to remind him the context of that situation. "I wanted to see if I could get some information about the caravan. I remembered what you and Bridge said about how weird this attack felt." I press the palms of my hands into my closed eyes and sigh. "And now I've made myself look like even more of an idiot."
When I lower my hands, I can see the surprised look on his face. "You were tryin' to get more info on the caravan? Oh, Princess, when I said keep your wits about you, I didn't mean go off investigating!"
"I just wanted to help."
"Don't think gettin' kicked in the chest is helping. We should keep our eyes open, but don't go out searchin' for anything."
I huff. "You and my dad would not get along at all. He was always tellin' me to go search for what I needed to find."
He hums. "Yeah. You said he is a researcher, right? Is he an independent one? Don't know of any company that hires lineages other than Elitariats, so how would someone from the Mutant lineage-"
"My dad's not a part of the Mutant lineage," I interrupt, and he blinks.
"But you're..."
"Yeah." When he doesn't say anything, I tilt my head to the side. "Do you not know how Remnants are made, Eight-ball?"
"Pretty sure I know how they, and all strains, are made," He replies, the tone in his voice making my heartbeat quicken, but I quickly shake my head.
"N-No, that's not-that's not what I meant. I mean... Remnants are made one of two ways-they are born from Remnant parents, or of two different strains having a child together. We're not exactly seen as the pinnacle of evolution since we 'half-breeds' never gain any of the traits from the strains of our parents, and we'll always have a mutation and a predisposed addiction. And Unstables make everything worse since they came from experimentation on Remnants and think they're better than everyone, which makes us look bad as well. It's a mess, really."
He looks at me in interest. "Oh. And what's your addiction?"
"Mine? Alcohol," I reply with a shrug. "But uh, yeah. My parents were from two different strains, had me and my siblings. All of us are Remnants because of it. My mom is a Quiet Folk. They're from the Landsmen lineage, same as you Natural Ones. And my dad... he's a Digitarian."
Eight-ball chokes on his own breath, coughing in shock. "A Digitarian?!"
I nod. "Odd couple, right?"
I understand his shock, mostly because Digitarians are from the Elitariat lineage, which makes them some of the most ambitious and wealthiest of the strains. Quiet Folk are literally that-quiet, kind, and non-confrontational people who spend their time helping and managing their communities. For two people with such different personalities to get together is odd.
"That's one way of putting it. Wait, so that means your family must be pretty well off. Why the hell are you here with us and not living in luxury in Crystal Creek? That's where you're from, right?"
I run a hand through my hair. "It's... complicated."
He tsks, unimpressed. "Looks like Princess is the right name for ya. The Princess is an actual Princess."
I give him a shove. "No, I'm not. My dad just makes good money and was born into a good family. Having mutated offspring that will never be able to carry on his extensive research did leave a bit of a dent in his reputation though. But I left because I didn't like Crystal Creek. It's where I grew up, but that doesn't mean it was a fun place. I..." I reach up and rub my neck, memories of pain and blood-so much blood-grabbing ahold of me and threatening to drag me under. "Bad things happened to me there."
There's a beat of silence, then another. Confused that Eight-ball has yet to say anything smart or teasing or flirty, I look up at him. My lips part in surprise at how serious he's become. He reaches out, but just before his hand can make contact with my arm, he stops, hesitates.
"You died, didn't you?" There's a sharp inhale from him when I nod. "And I'm guessin' by that gesture you just did and how terrified you were earlier, it was because of a Semper Mort."
I nod again, not looking him in the eye. "It's a long story that I won't bore you with, but I trusted her... the Semper Mort who killed me."
The betrayal still stings.
She was my best friend. I helped get her blood so she could stay alive. And then, when she grew desperate with hunger, when I couldn't get her blood in time even though I promised I would get her help if she could just hold out a little longer, she attacked me.
Sharp fangs pierced my skin. Pain erupted from my neck and I remember trying so hard to pry her off, but she was strong and I was quickly losing blood.
I think the worst part was that she came to her senses before I'd died, so when she let me go and I fell to the cold ground in the middle of the night, with the moon being the only light to expose her of her crimes. She just stood there in horror as I weakly begged her to help me. And then, when I reached out to her with pained fingers, she turned and ran and let me bleed out alone. Cold.
I remember experiencing Mortis Amaranthine. It's terrifying. During this time without a body, there are hallucinations. You see and hear things that aren't fully true. It's assumed to be a product of consciousness or group consciousness rather than reality, but that doesn't make it less terrifying, less overwhelming. And when you come back... it's like you've lost something, somehow. It feels like a piece of you is missing.
I don't know if Eight has ever died and been brought back. Seeing he's been a mercenary for awhile, it wouldn't surprise me, but I don't ask him. No one wants to talk about their experience of being reborn, and for good reason. There's always a chance that those who enter it unprepared or do not fight to live may not come back out, instead being absorbed by the Infection in the ground, the very Infection that lives in our bodies to bring us back.
"When I came back, I was furious. I wanted to rip her throat out with my teeth as revenge, but obviously that wasn't how justice was served. It... was too much to just stay, even though she was punished for what she did. And I ended up here, with you calling me 'Princess' and 'Rookie' rather than my real name."
I send him a look that he ignores. "Now, now, you can't be mad at me for that. You know Bridge's rule number two-you don't give your real names. Think you'd know that more than anyone, since we don't want anyone comin' after family members."
"You can call me by my name when it's just the group or just us," I reply. I suck on the inside of my cheek. "I'd love to know what your real name is."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Oh, definitely."
"And what if I told you that Eight-ball is my real name?"
I lean close and place my elbows on my knees and rest my chin in my hands. "I'd call you a liar and then a hypocrite for breaking the captain's second rule."
Eight looks positively giddy at my banter. It's adorable. "Well, you may be right, but 'M still not telling you my name."
"Then can you at least call me by my name? I'd prefer being called 'Ista-Glow' must more than I do being called 'Princess'."
"Even though you are a princess."
"I'm not. You've heard of the fairytale stories before The Fall. Princesses were pretty and kind and wore pretty flowing dresses. I don't have any of that."
"Oh, hush," He says, slinging an arm around me and pulling me closer to him, so I'm laying my head against his shoulder. "I'm still goin' to call you 'Princess', you know."
I sigh, although it's mostly for dramatics. "I know, because it pisses me off and you like to be an ass."
A chuckle leaves his lips. "It is funny seeing you get all miffed about it, but it's because we can't break Cap's rule."
"You break so many of Cap's other rules though-"
He shushes me. "Now, we aren't talkin' about that. We're talkin' about this."
The look I give him tells him just how unamused I am, but because it's Eight, he ignores it. A soft smile appears on my face as he goes on talking about how this nickname is better than some of the other ones that he's heard, and he mentions some of the horrid ones that were suggested to him when he joined with the group a few years back. It's easy to forget that he was the baby of the group before I came along, even though he's only three years older than I am. He tells me how they kept giving him these dumb names to choose from as a joke before he simply told them he'd been going by Eight-ball for awhile now, and since it wasn't his real name, there was no reason to stop going by that now.
"Mia was the most boring one, choosing a normal person name. Where's the fun in that? Although she's always been one to have a stick up her butt." He snickers. "I remember one time I'd hurt my leg pretty bad, so they sent her out with me to scout since Bridge thought I'd end up gettin' myself killed if I went out alone, and we uh... we..." He trails off when he shifts, spotting me as I lay against his side and listen with half lidded eyes and a lazy smile.
His throat bobs as he swallows, and I patiently wait. He must be trying to recall, or maybe he lost his train of thought.
"What did you do?" I ask after a few moments of silence, and he blinks.
"What?"
"When you and Mia went scouting-what did you do?"
"O-oh, yeah. Right." He clears his throat and starts to continue his story, but he looks ahead and refuses to even glance at me. At first I fear that I may have done something wrong, but then I see the very faint flush on his cheeks, and I realize it's happened again. He was talking, but he wasn't really expecting me to be listening. I surprised him.
My heart sinks. I feel a bit bad for him, honestly. He's so used to being ignored or people only half listening when he talks that someone paying attention gets him flustered. I'd apologize on our groups' behalf if I didn't know that he'd deny it for the sake of his pride. He keeps talking, and I can feel my eyelids start to droop, and I press myself a bit firmer against Eight as drowsiness takes over.
My movement makes him pause, and even though I don't look at him, I can hear the grin in his voice. "Gettin' tired already, Princess?"
I groan, even though I know he's right and it is a bit early to be going to sleep. Even though the sun has set, we usually stay up another hour or two to make sure everything's settled in and discuss night watch, which I'm sure Bridge will be enforcing twice as much after the fiasco today.
"You wore me out today. Can you blame me?"
"I wore you out? Princess, I did nothing of the sort. And you can't go to sleep now, especially not lyin' up against me."
"Why not?" I whine.
"Because if you fall asleep on me, then I'm going to have to sit here all night so I don't wake you. And I don't like you enough to do that just yet."
I decide not to comment on the 'just yet' part. "You're so rude."
"I'm rude?" He scoffs. "No, you're just high maintenance, Princess."
"Ista-Glow," I correct.
"Don't let Bridge hear you. You've already pushed it by causing a bit of trouble earlier. Can only imagine how she'd react if she knew you were doin' it because you wanted to snoop around."
I look up at him, worry swirling in the pit of my stomach. "You're not gonna tell her, are you?"
"No, probably not, although I could tease you like I was thinking about it." He makes it clear in his tone that he's joking, although I don't laugh. I stay quiet for a moment, then another, before I finally speak again.
"Tell me another story," I request, and he looks at me with surprise.
"Another story?"
"Mhmm."
His brows furrow as he looks down at me. "Ya know I was serious when I said you can't be falling asleep on me."
"I won't fall asleep. I promise. If I do, I give you full permission To shove me off of you... But I distinctly remember when we were scouting you said that there was a story about you bein' in zom-infested waters and you'd tell me about it later."
With how much has happened today, I doubt he remembers telling me that, and I think he's even more surprised that I did. The light of the fire dances across his face, and I stare up at him patiently. One thing I learned from a Quiet Folk mother is that you must be good at the waiting game if you want to get anything in life.
"Honestly didn't think you'd want to hear that," He says finally, and I raise a brow.
"Why?" I blink when he gives a half shrug. "I like listening to you, you know. And if you won't tell me anything about you before joining up with Bridge, might as well tell me some of the good stories afterwards."
"Are you sure Remnants don't inherit traits from the strains of their parents? Because you have a lot of Digitarian in you with wanting to know more about-well, everything and everyone."
"What can I say? I..." My voice trails off when I notice Arc walking around with some of her people. Something falls from her pocket. A piece of paper, maybe? "Hey, I'm thirsty. I'm going to get a drink. I will be right back and then you can tell me that story."
Eight blinks. "Um, alright."
I stand and start walking off, and when I get near the paper, I stop and bend down as if I need to tie my shoe. I know he said I shouldn't be investigating, but I can't help that I'm curious!
I grab the paper and stand, continuing on so I can get our drinks. I unfold it, scoffing in disappointment when I see it's a simple receipt for supplies. Although the signature isn't Arc's, or anyone else I know that's on the caravan.
I frown.
Who the hell is Brent Valmont?
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, everyone! It is dedicated to jettmanas and Saxophone_Obsessor
Please be sure to vote and comment! Thank you and have a blessed day!