I hit through a rooftop hard with a brush of heat scattering my lower neck, everything goes numb as I slam into the house, my ears ringing. Looking up, my vision blurs back into life to realise the place is empty.
"Dear Lord…" I utter, regaining my sense of reality. Coughing hysterically, my mouth tastes like sandpaper and my hands shake violently. The world begins to calm down as I gather myself, taking a minute to struggle to my feet. Self-assurance becomes a favourite tool whilst dusting myself off. "You're good Belle, you're good."
Like breathing for the first time, the dusty street air fills my lungs as if being baptised. The courtyard is loud, children rushing to parents, people putting out leftovers from the bomb, red suits leaving in a rush. Hardly sophisticated to notice much, I find myself drawn to the nearest water trough, darkness overwhelming the city as blazes begin to visually stand out.
I wince whilst taking the piece of wood from my arm, cursing the need to jump onto the rooftop. Luckily, sticking it into freezing water seemed to calm the bleeding and pain, not that my tolerance is that low.
I wash my face slowly, allowing my body to fully embrace the refreshment after my little adventure. The raiders wouldn't have expected that, they're probably fleeing on foot, I doubt they'll attack again tonight.
Tiny droplets sting the small cuts on my cheeks as I wash gore off, hoping nothing is severely burned or bruised. Finally, I take a second to look at the damage I've caused.
The bell tower hardly stands, straddled with the severe burn marks of the explosion, I don't quite know how it didn't collapse. Some houses are on fire, though the streams of people throwing water seemingly indicates it's under control. With day's fall, everyone seems mere silhouettes in front of flickering fires.
The streets are dusty enough to make an asthmatic person go fatal, the amount of debris everywhere means someone likely got hurt. Had the helicopter been lowering, I can't imagine what would've happened to the children.
To my left, I notice a woman crying, holding her two smaller kids. Words mumble off her lips, grabbing her offspring to check for any injuries. The mother kisses them frantically, almost like her love could reverse the trauma. Observing the loving moment, I take a small bandage from my belt, wrapping it around my bleeding injury carefully. It almost makes me want to smile, but I'm more just glad I survived.
"State your name and purpose!" A voice yells, slamming my back into the dirt. I hiss slightly, pain amplifying the currently observed burns on my back. The man points a gun, giving me a second to adjust to the abrupt interruption in my rescue.
The angle strains my view as piles of dust swarm the active area. I'm slightly annoyed, but I use a small moment to study my opponent, who is likely an untrained raider. Face covered in a beanie, his eyes reveal no weaknesses I could take advantage of.
Except his mannerism.
"Oh darling, at least take me out to dinner first." I joke, kicking the gun into my grasp. I'm more pissed off he interrupted the moment. Heartbeat accelerating, I overturn unto my stomach, quickly springing up backwards.
Should I be even remotely hesitant, I'd have no doubt my shaky legs would slipped up. Without a second to lose, one hand goes backwards, latching around his neck. I pull him towards me, head resting so impolitely over my shoulder. In a swift motion, the man's face is pressed into his former gun. "You should know better than to treat a lady like that." I grin, finding satisfaction.
"Who are you?" He groans, clearly taken aback.
"That's a little better." I say, before gripping his arm and throwing him into the dirt.
Irony is a bitch.
Suddenly, I'm surrounded by two others, not dressed in red. I recognise the dark-haired boy from before, from the online image. The other is a blonde girl, extremely short but knows how to hold her gun.
Expecting to be challenged, I turn towards them aggressively, ready to take them on aswell. Instead, I'm met with unarmed hands. "Woah, easy there, tiger." The boy says, making effort to display is inferiority. "And I mean it when I say tiger, geez."
Wrong animal, but close enough.
The girl moves towards the asshole I threw unto the ground, seemingly almost as angry as me. "Oh, get up Jackson! Control your daddy issues, she didn't do anything wrong." She says, not quite possessing the strength to make the muscled man move. Nonetheless, he gets up quickly with a shrug.
"Jackso…?" I mutter, connecting the dots.
Oh great.
` Settling down, I begin to slip off my gloves casually, realising what I'm dealing with. Considering I can't even see his face, I turn away from the gruff man and face the bowl-cut boy. "You're troop 464?"
He relaxes, politely stretching his torn-up hand. "Troy McTensier, second in command." Troy says, finally close enough to observe his freckled skin and unthreatening demeanour.
Returning the hand, I make a solid attempt at giving a firm handshake, my breath finally fully relaxing. "Nice to meet you," I say, giving him a small smile before facing away. "Jackson Eve, I apologise for my informal greeting, you seem the type to understand the consequences of being… threatened without warning."
If looks could kill, I think I would've been dead the second he turned around. Having taken off his cotton head-mask, a flurry of hazel locks bounce into place, striking against the flicking courtyard light. Jackson's face is strong, mean, but surprisingly pale. Not as attractive as you'd think, rather the last thing you'd see before hell opens up.
Heavy eyebrows match a set of blue eyes, remind me more of steel than any kind of sea or sky. They're hard, as if created from pure metal, as if trained to command.
Staring straight into my soul with an ice-cold fury.
"I'll ask you one more time," Jackson says, taking a daring step closer to loom over me. His voice isn't as deep as you'd think it to be, though I wasn't expecting to feel intimidated. "Who the hell are you?"
"Eadlyin Foster," I say, unimpressed by his anger problem, can't set your pride aside? Better get used to swallowing it. "I've been recruited by her majesty to assist in your operation, she says I should be of help."
"You don't say…" Troy says, gazing up at the bell tower for a brief second.
The girl finally steps forward, latching herself to Troy. "I'm Melody, basic white girl, will kick your ass." She says, though I think I'm more amused than insulted by her sarcasm. "Quick question, how are you not dead?"
I sense that the question is more wishful thinking than genuine concern. "Don't flatter me, I'll feel dead when I wake up tomorrow." I say, ignoring the slight throb throughout my back.
Soon enough, I'm greeted by other people, one of which is the red-head from before. "Who's this lil-las?" she says, taking a moment to put away her gun.
"Eadlyin, our newest trooper." Troy says, capturing the attention of the rest of the group. It's then I notice Oliver's presence alongside the other troopers, all whom I recall from the computer image. "This is Scarlett."
"That's Sean, he's also here to join." I say, making an effort to not stuff up his disguise name.
"Cassie Nelson, that's Nick." A darker woman says, flicking her platinum blonde ponytail to the side before stretching her hand. Her eyes are a dark brown, the shape reminding me of a Disney character. Though, I found myself admiring her dolphin bracelet more.
Next to Oliver, Nick was shorter than the other boys, fitted with a buzz-cut and Asian background. "You need to put something else on your arm, in case it gets infected." He says, voice soft and soothing, pointing towards the tower. "We have some stuff at the campsite, it should help."
"Thank you." I smile, touching my injury on instinct.
"Okay, Nick and Melody can take Eadlyin back to camp, what do you want us to do boss?" Scarlett says, switching the concentration towards the more-than-irritated Jackson.
He takes a step forward, taking a moment to sigh. "I doubt they'll be anyone else to fend off. Scarlett, Cassie, take on patrol for the first 3 hours, do a general check. Troy, Sean, both go to make sure all safety hazards are being handled. We'll move as planned tomorrow." Jackson says, before walking from the group back down the street.
"Is he always that rude?" I say, leaning on Melody and picking a splinter from my calf. A mean man is easier to kill than a kind one, so I guess the more I piss him off, the better it'll be to kill him.
"Not really, just has a short temper," She says, her slightly British accent more distinct. "Though, being man-handled by a woman isn't an everyday thing, you know?"
"Goodness, I don't intend to hurt his pride." I remark, watching Nick pull water from his bag, handing it over gracefully.
"Drink something, we'll head towards base and I'll check whatever injuries you have." Nick says, reaching to check my arm. "Do you have any burns?"
The clean water is soothing on my throat, though disgustingly warm. It drips slightly unto my shirt in my small moment of greed to quench my thirst. "Yeah, but nothing too major, I'd hope."
The campsite is larger than I thought, especially for a troop that's seemingly always on the move. Overhanging trees shadow above six tents, dark green colouring corresponds with the moon's haze. In the centre, a few logs surrounding an unlit fire. Weapons are in clear view beside each tent, some tents appearing full of boxes and supplies. I'm surprised they leave their armoury out so obviously, you'd think this village might want to take something for themselves, something to protect their children.
"So, Eadlyin, how'd you wind up with this mission?" Melody asks, emerging with some matches, she kneels by the fire and begins striking the box. Nick sits me down and goes into another tent.
"Sean and I are cousins, we've been guards of the city for a while. We were trained for the field, though I never expected to be needed." I repeat the story Oliver and I decided upon. "Do tell me, who are these rebels? Why are they taking children?"
"The bastards take children because they want to. Same way they destroy things because they want to." Melody informs me, encouraging the fire to catch onto the smaller twigs. "They come and go throughout the countryside. The troop was given locations to follow, we just need to predict their attacks."
I toss a larger stick within reach into the small blaze. She's using the term 'we,' which automatically separates Oliver and I from the group. That needs quick fixing. "So… what should we expect then?"
She sighs, though her voice isn't weary in tone. It seems always sarcastic and defensive, though you can tell when she doesn't mean it to be, I like it. "I don't know. Sometimes they kill civilians, sometimes they steal, sometimes they set things on fire, sometimes they target us. They want to injure the city and build their army."
"An army? To overthrow the city?" I push my limits, I could play the part of an uninformed guard. I already know they want to overthrow the city, overthrow the throne, overthrow Carla.
"Likely." Melody replies, not putting any effort into the answer, she didn't seem to care. "We serve the queen they wish to kill."
Nick emerges from the tent with a first aid kit, probably to help me. He strides towards me, but appears to remember something else, disappearing into another tent. Quickly, he kneels in front of me with a small rag.
"May I treat your injuries?" Nick asks, putting a hand out for my arm. I nod, giving a small smile and handing him a half-wrapped arm. For a moment, everyone is quiet, Nick presses the an alcoholic substance into my gash.
I look up to see Melody gazing at me, but dazed enough to tell she's in her own world. "Did they train you hard…? In the city…?" She asks hazily, head slanted to the side.
I hesitate, a little confused. "What do you mean?"
Melody seemingly regrets her words once snapped out of her daydream. She shakes her head, holding the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Sorry, it's just…" she mutters, her words laced with confusion. "You have a high pain tolerance, that's all. You had no reaction to the alcohol."
Nick awkwardly stops.
Shit. Should've thought of that.
"No need to apologise," I say, making up the quickest lie and half convincing sorrowful act. "My father used to beat me as a child, I got better at the… healing process…"
I suppose the lie will work in my favour, it'll give them all something to gossip about instead of digging into who I am.
"Melody, are you serious? Try to be more intruding!" Nick softly snaps, moving towards medicines and bandages. His angry defence is almost sweet, but I think his crankiness is more fuelled by Melody. "You don't have to psycho-analyse everybody."
"Just focus on healing her, okay? Jackson won't accept wounded soldiers, no matter how they got their injuries. A high pain tolerance means better soldiers." Melody changes her mood once again, though the comment seems to stem from a previous argument. Confirming their misalliance, she gets up and huffs into the bush.
So many questions. Is she the one wanting better soldiers? Or is she being pressured by Jackson to be the better soldier? Or is she simply worried about the consequences of injured soldiers, meaning she doesn't want me to die? No, we only just met.
"You'll find we're an odd bunch" Nick returns to his normal demeanour. "We're family though, we know everything about everyone. I think it's partly boredom, so don't be surprised if they all pry into your life."
So, so many questions.
"Family? Wait, are you all related?" I ask, watching him place a band-aid on my smallest cut, around my leg. Would family be aware that they're leader is a double-agent? I'd think so. Does that mean they're all double agents?
"Not really, we just trained together, so we've known each other for years." He replies, standing up with his supplies. "We elected Jackson leader of the troop on our first mission. Sometimes I think the role is what made him so… harsh. We don't question it, you may aswell pick a fight with a bear."
So, good soldier turned into bastard rebel? The more likely answer. Nick has no reason to lie. Though, there's bound to be someone else involved – Melody or Troy, perhaps?
"Eh, Sean and I can be outsiders then." I sarcastically deter. Lifting my shirt to let Nick place cream on my burns, I'm sure they'll heal quickly.
"Don't think that way, Eadlyin. Sometimes even family gets sick of one another, we need new people." Nick replies, finishing his duties to my burns.
I rise, turning towards Nick. He seems kind, or at least half-decent. I guess every troop has its softest member, but there's no harm in that balance, destruction needs it's healing. "Thank you for helping me."
"We have a spare tent, for when we all fight and don't want to share. Please use it, you must rest. You can thank me when you're healed" He says, although his small smile streaks with pride.
Gathering some clothes for tomorrow, I find my way into the tent furthest from the fire. No doubt Oliver will wake me when he needs sleep aswell. Until then, I aim to make the most of my time alone, sleeping or not.