Relic - Jaid Black Page 0,3
dead. Jackson hadn’t deserved his fate any more than the millions of innocent people who’d already been turned into Xenocann food. The least she and Bellamy could do was give him a befitting send-off.
“Gather all our supplies, Lieutenant,” Octavia ordered as she hoisted herself up from the ground. “I want a weapons and ammo count by the time I find a suitable burial place.”
“Yes, Commander.”
It took them over an hour to dig the grave, but they eventually laid Ensign Jackson to rest. As luck would have it, the ground was damp—even muddy in parts—signaling a recent downpour of rain. It had made the digging go so much faster. Burying Marcus in no way tempered Octavia’s guilt, but at least the young SEAL’s body had been shown proper respect.
It was another hour before they had four skinned rabbits cooking over a makeshift fire. Knowing she would soon eat caused Octavia to experience intense hunger pangs, but she ignored them as she and Bellamy made their way to the nearby river. They filled their canteens first, thirstily drank them down, and refilled them again before setting them on the grassy embankment for later. Neither said a word as both stripped down to nothing before silently entering the water.
They found their first small smiles as they cleaned their long neglected bodies of filth, caked dirt, and blood. Octavia’s hair, once as red as the blood that had saturated it, gleamed a golden brown again under the rising moon. She took the time to wash her hair and body twice before throwing the bar of soap at a now fully smiling James Bellamy. She’d found the small bar in one of the human collaborators’ IFAK pouches and certainly didn’t mind sharing it.
She smiled back at James, dimples popping out, understanding his childlike enthusiasm for she felt it herself. Once just another common chore, a real cleansing had become something in the realm of decadent over the past few years. Next, they took the time to wash their clothing and felt almost as giddy doing that. They pounded their black pants and sleeveless t-shirts against nearby rocks before washing the items again. After wringing them out, they hung them on branches to dry, donned two of the cloaks, put their boots back on, and returned to camp.
“What’s with these hooded cloaks?” Bellamy asked as they feasted on the cooked rabbits.
“Don’t know,” Octavia admitted between bites. “I saw the traitors force the doctor into one then put them on themselves before they tried to enter the portal.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know why they were thinking to take them so I had you grab them just as a precaution.”
He nodded. “Can’t complain. It’s keeping me warm while my clothes dry.”
“Same.”
They were silent for a long while, both of them wolfing down their meat. They each devoured two whole rabbits, not wasting so much as a solitary bite. It gave Octavia time to think, but no matter how much brain power she used she continued to arrive at the same conclusion:
She had no idea where they were, no scientific understanding of how they’d even gotten here, and there was perhaps only one man who could answer her questions. Assuming the doctor was still alive.
“Commander Benatti—”
“Octavia,” she corrected. At Bellamy’s raised eyebrow, she explained, “We don’t know where we are or who we’re up against besides one feeder. Let’s not give away who we are, including our ranks, so long as we’re in the dark.”
He inclined his head. “Octavia then.”
She had to grin at the unsure way he’d spoken her name. “You’ll get used to it… James.”
His smile was genuine. “I guess we should get some sleep.”
She threw the final rabbit bone into the fire. “We have a human to track and a Xenocann to kill at first light. So yeah, we should.”
“I’ll take the first watch.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You look more exhausted than I am. Goodnight, James.”
He nodded, appreciative. “Thanks, Com—I mean Octavia. Goodnight.”
Octavia watched James retreat into the one-man tent that was standard issue in any IFAK—Individual First Aid Kit—pouch. Lifting the bottom of her cloak, she stomped out what was left of the dwindling fire. That accomplished, she sat on the ground against a nearby tree, a stolen SA80 rifle in her vigilant grasp. She sighed, realizing she was more tired than she’d originally thought. Forcing herself to stay alert, she allowed her thoughts to wander back three years to when this entire nightmare began.
Three years. It felt more like thirty had gone