Alone: A Great War Story

3224

Rannah's ear twitched at the sound of the rustling. Now alert, her eyes went wide in shock, and in an attempt to focus in the dark. She was still, nose carefully testing the air to search for anything amiss, but she could not detect something that would indicate an enemy, but truth be told, the hills could be crawling with those four-fingered bastards by now. She carefully laid one hand on the charging handle of her M18 and slowly pulled it back, allowing the first bullet in the magazine to raise into position. Then she just as carefully let it fall into battery. She did this all without taking her eyes or ears off of where she had heard the noise.

She had to act quickly. She was alone after all; the only one to survive the crash of their transport after it was shot down seventeen hours before. She had awoken in the tail section of the aircraft still strapped to her seat. Quickly she had discovered that the transport had been hit by some sort of surface to air laser and had broken up somewhere low over the forest. In truth, she really didn't know where. The radios were smashed, and last she knew, the RAF base where they had taken off from was at least fifty miles away if not more.

The logical thing would be to stay put. These pilots must have filed a flight plan with whoever would be receiving them. The other base would notice nobody showed up, contacted their departure point and a search would be conducted. She would be rescued.

But she was scared. Whatever shot them down could be close by, and despite being unscathed by the crash, she was still vulnerable. In a half-panicked decision, Rannah decided to make use of her navigation training and attempted to find her way back on her own, half sure that she could actually do it. It was better than the alternative. So she packed up as much ammunition as she could carry, stuffing nearly fifteen magazines for her M18 in her backpack, three in her harness, and one in the weapon. In addition, she had stuffed as many rations as she could in whatever space remained. A small storage area had survived the crash. Food and water was as much a priority as ammunition was. Finally, her bedroll was coiled underneath her pack, and was as much a luxury as she had. She would navigate by the sun, as she had no map despite having a compass.

But it was nightime now, and although the Shattered Moon was as good a guide, she felt like she was more wandering than anything else. With the noise, she felt she was being followed.

The gun was loaded now, and she raised it slowly to her shoulder. She needed to be careful now. If it was a hostile, a gunshot would alert any additional contacts. If it was an Ovie, she couldn't afford to get swamped. She was not a commando; she was a medic, and a recent addition to the 3rd Brigadiers. Wet behind the very long ears, the team had joked one time.

She refused to budge, her cheek resting on the stock of the weapon, both eyes open. She rotated the lever from 'SAFE' to 'SEMI' and prepared to fire. Fine. If they were coming for her, she wouldn't be going down without a fight. Her heart battered in her chest, stamping a tattoo against the inside of her armor.

A broken branch, twenty five feet away.

Rannah panicked and squeezed the trigger.

The M18 bucked, the supersonic crack of the bullet whipping through the trees, scaring sleeping birds into the sky in a chorus of screeches. She heard the report of the weapon against the mountains. The bullet smacked off a tree with a sharp whine of ricochet. Her shot was a clear miss, and it was at that point that she heard the roaring bark of what was most definitely not an Overlander.

Then the bark was joined by another, and then another, and soon there was a cacophony of malicious growls like a feral engine rumbling in the depths of the forest. Out here, there was only one type of animal that could make such a noise and in such a number.

Just as it came to her, the first wolf bolted from the treeline ahead of her, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

Rannah cried out in shock and fright, her hardwired fear of the carnivores lighting up in her brain. Without really aiming, the rabbit pulled the trigger repeatedly, hoping to strike the animal as it charged at her. One, two, three, and soon seven shots went out in the blink of an eye. One of the rounds hit the animal in the face. The wolf collapsed midstride, rolling to a halt. Enraged howls sounded to the moon, and Rannah took the opportunity to run as fast as she could.

She sprinted down the clearing, rifle gripped tightly in her hands. Her ears were limp in fear as she sprinted as fast as her legs would carry her. Tears welled in her eyes that stung, but she fought to keep them open as she sidestepped rocks and vaulted over fallen trunks. She could hear the wolves behind her but she dare not turn to face them.

The terrain ahead was uphill. She didn't know what was beyond the crest and the trees were thick ahead of her. She headed for the largest spacing between them all, and fought to run up the incline. Her chest began to ache, but she did not slow down, working her small body beyond what she thought possible.

A ravenous howl to her right. A wolf was now keeping pace with her and had come up to try and tackle her. She fired while sprinting, the unbraced weapon bucking in her hands, threatening to fall to the forest floor. The bullet deflected off the ground and scared the animal, but only briefly. She needed to put this thing down. She stopped running abruptly and turned around, shouldering the gun and firing everything she had at the wolf. It shuddered as bullets smacked its body, dropping without a whine.

The gun clicked as she tried to fire again. A pang of fear gripped her stomach, but she remembered she had more ammunition. She started running again, pressing her finger against the magazine release. The empty casket of metal dropped into the darkness. Before reaching the top of the hill she grabbed another one from her vest and tried to insert it into the weapon, but her hands were shaking so much she couldn't do it. Behind her, she heard two more wolves, these ones taking their time, not rushing to meet her unlike their kin.

The magazine slid into the well with a click, and by that time she had reached the top of the hill. Beyond her was a steep drop down a bare rock face. Below that, she could make out the silvery ribbon of a river.

Her heart beat with hope. That was the only way to get out of this. The wolves would lose the scent if she could get down there. But how could she...

Rannah screamed as she felt sharp teeth bite at her leg. She lost her balance and fell over the incline, bouncing off the raw rock. She could feel it cut into her body and scrape at fur and the skin underneath. She smacked her head off an outcropping and the world became fuzzy. The rabbit fell for what felt like an eternity and would have lost the rifle had it not been for the sling attached to it. She felt pain again in her legs, and then everything stopped.

Her vision was blurred and she heard ringing in her ears. She knew right away that she had a concussion. She tried to move, and found she couldn't. She whimpered in fear. She couldn't move her legs. She was about to cry out in despair when she noticed that the body of the wolf that attacked her was strewn across her legs. She laughed in sudden relief, and wiped her eyes to clear the tears that were running. Every motion brought pain. This was good. It meant her nerves were still working. She kicked the wolf off her and contorted with pain. Rannah ran her hand up and down her left leg. She cried out again when her hand brushed the outside. Broken fibula. While vestigial in nature, the shattered bone still ground up the muscle around it. She carefully raised herself up, putting more weight on her right leg. She tried to straighten up and found pain in her back, possibly in the L-1 or L-2 vertebrae. Compressed spine? The world still seemed like it was too bright. She took a few more steps and let out a stifled scream as a broken rib made itself known.

Oh God, what if this was permanent. What if these injuries didn't heal? They'd be infected for sure, and she still didn't know where she was. She was going to die out here alone and afraid. Alone.

She lay back against the stone, stars slowly wheeling overhead, the pain in her legs throbbing - one leg with a broken bone, the other bitten and bleeding. Then above it all, she heard the furious howling at the moon. They were still after her.

It took a supreme force of will to sit up, back aching as she did so. Her mouth formed a silent scream as she tried to get to her feet. Though not impaired by the broken bone, it hurt nonetheless.

She had to think. The cliff face was steep, but it wouldn't take long for the wolves to figure out how to get down. This was their turf after all. She could stand her ground and fight them off, but her hands were shaking so much that she wasn't sure she could hold her weapon straight. No. She had to run. She was so close to the water - she could smell the earthiness of the banks, but that had to be maybe a few hundred feet away now. She couldn't make it at a run.

Unless... she had to have something on her. She was a medic. That would involve taking her pack off and looking. If she didn't, she'd be overwhelmed anyway.

She was disoriented by the blow to her head. Her hand swayed, trying to get the top of her pack open. Her head jerked up as she saw a wolf fall down the ledge, landing limp on the ground, dead from the fall. She wouldn't get that lucky forever. The bite was like a red hot chain around her leg and she felt sick trying to put pressure on it. She found it huddled among the magazines - a small sealed bag holding thin tubes emblazoned with the word 'Adrenaline'.

Rannah ripped it open with her teeth, popped the cap off of one, and aiming the needle downwards, picked a spot on her outer thigh. She closed her eyes, and jabbed it in as hard as she could, automatically releasing the epinephrine. Then she waited. Slowly, and then all at once, the pain went away. She could feel her limbs suddenly jolting with electricity and her eyes grew large. Her heart began to race, and she felt like she could move at the speed of light. Only vaguely aware of her injuries, she sprinted towards the water, feeling like she was moving with the wind. Her ancestors used the word 'superhuman' to refer to what she was feeling. It flowed much better off the tongue than 'supermobian'. She also felt she had time to consider these insignificant points as the water came up. Without hesitation, she dove into the river and started swimming downstream.

Her arms had energy that wouldn't let up. She was certain that she was leaving the wolves behind. What rotten animals they were anyway. She never liked wolves - rabbits instinctively did.

She hadn't been swimming for long until she felt her arms growing heavy. Her lungs were on fire. How long were they like this?

Rannah began to sink, now feeling panic once more. She went under once, mouth filling with water as she tried to paddle out of the river that now began to form rapids and move further downstream. The wolves were gone, far behind her now, but now the river was the bigger predator, and she had dived into it with a full pack and weapon. Her feet struck rocks, and her stomach lurched as she realized her leg still had a broken bone in it.

She went over a small fall with a screech, dropping back into the river and almost losing her grip on her rifle. She went under again, this time flipping around in the eddies. She struggled to stay coordinated and kicked off the ground with her intact leg to reach the surface.

The water was freezing cold at this time of year, and she became aware of another danger that she had not foreseen: hypothermia. Her body temperature was dropping by the minute. If she stayed here for too long, she would lose consciousness and drown. This, among everything else she had faced this night, was the most frightening to Rannah, who swallowed water trying to catch her breath. Freezing to death, something she couldn't fight with bullets or a knife. She needed to get out of the water. She could not though. She needed to survive the rapids, and they probably went on for miles. What was she going to do?

A third time now the rabbit was dragged under the water, but this time she was dragged further under, her exposed fur slashed by sharp rocks. She cried out underwater, her screams emerging as bubbles that were swept away by the current. When would it end?

Then Rannah had an idea. Some of these rocks may help her. She thought of her gun. It was well over three feet long. and had a sling on it. Her eyes widened at the possibility, though she closed them again as she made contact with a rock in the middle of the river. The wind was knocked out of her by the blow, and she immediately sucked in water out of reflex.

She needed to do this quickly. She was already losing feeling from her fingers. Up ahead there was a downed tree from one side of the river. It was maybe a few hundred feet down, but if she didn't move quickly, she would miss it.

She started swimming, cursing herself for not holding on to another adrenaline cylinder, and moved with all her limbs as much as she dared. She was tired quickly, but couldn't do much about it. She pushed her body past what was expected of her, feeling her muscles strain now. She knew lactic acid was building up all over, but pushed past it, the desire to live overriding all of her bodily limitations.

She grabbed her by the stock, and whipped it upwards, extending as far as she could to raise the gun high enough to...

She lurched to a stop, her legs snapping ahead of her. The first thing she experienced was her spine exploding in pain. The second thing she felt was utter relief. She had stopped. The sling had caught on a rather sturdy branch of the fallen tree. The petite medic was so small that her weight wasn't even noticeable to the fallen log that jutted just over the water. She let out of a sob of relief, and then struggled to pull herself ashore.

Rannah reached the banks of the river and crawled out, shivering and coughing as she did so. She curled into a ball and held her legs to her chest, teeth chattering in the night air. She was so cold. So very cold. Her fingers and toes were still numb, though she was more than certain that her bitten leg had stopped bleeding.

The feeling of freezing was too much to bear. Her fur was sopping wet, and there would be no point in removing her uniform. She would be just as wet and cold all the same. A primitive survival instinct sparked to life in her brain, and her mind formed one word to address her current situation: fire.

Fire. She needed a fire quickly. Despite being in pain, despite on the verge of dying right here and now on the forest floor, she could still think and judge. Her genus of Mobian had a body temperature of around 100 degrees Fahrenheit. She needed to get that back up as quickly as possible before nerve damage set in.

In all the commotion, she hadn't even noticed that the Shattered Moon had begun to set. With it would go her only light, leaving her in complete darkness save for the stars.

She looked in her pack.

She hoped she had something. She hoped to Aurora she had a lighter, or matches or something like that.

But she saw nothing. In her panic to save herself, she had only grabbed ammunition - no lighters, and certainly no matches.

She fell on her side again, grabbing at her short hair and gripping it so hard her head hurt. She was so stupid. She had let her intellect get wasted by her self-preservation. She was thinking like an animal, not a person. She wanted to fight whatever she found, but there was no fighting thermodynamics. The heat was being leached from her and the one thing that could stop it was miles away by now.

Her ear twitched and raised. She brought her head up, jostled from these thoughts.

It was a howl at the moon.

That just wasn't possible. It wasn't possible at all. She had done what her training and her instinct had told her was right. Jumping in water would cover a scent. It was one of the oldest survival tricks in the book. She didn't even leave them a blood trail!

She started again. Could they have guessed that she went downriver and went alongside? That wasn't possible. Wolves, or any of the Four Legs were not smart enough to...

Unless...

She shivered again, but this time it wasn't because of the cold.

Could she really be that unlucky...?

She remembered a legend she had heard as a little girl. Like all legends she dismissed it, but now it came back to haunt her in this moment of terror. Legend had it that while her ancestors were gifted with what was called by some 'The Uplift' in the mists of time when Humans walked alongside them, some of her kin, the Four Legs and their genetic material on the colony ships the Humans had been on, only partially experienced this gift. While her ancestors grew to be like their Humans, the Four Legs were somewhere in between. Intelligent, but without the Human form or their language.

Were these the Semisa? The Thinking Beasts?

No. Nobody had confirmed this, and yet those howls had seemed awfully close. They would have had to predict her movement.

She had to move downriver. This would take her to a larger body of water, if only she could remember where she was in the first place. She glanced at her shaking hand and saw on her compass she was heading East.

If only she knew more than that.

A new sound cut across the sky - a strange humming noise. It grew slowly to a sharp whine.

Rannah pressed herself into the brush, ears pressed to her head.

Just above the river, a craft glided. She recognized its twin turbine shape as an Overlander scout craft. The black-painted craft had twin strobe lights flashing on its turbines, and a powerful beam cutting through the night, examining the illuminating the white water crests on the river, clouds of mist now visible. The wide beam allowed Rannah herself to see that up ahead, the river became what she believed was a waterfall. She shivered again. She had no idea how deep the drop was.

She dropped into the bush, slowly laughing to herself. She was freezing. Her body temperature was dangerously low, but it worked for her. She would not show up as strong on thermals. If she stayed low, it was possible that they wouldn't detect her.

She curled up again and tried to remain as still as possible.

They were sending air patrols looking for survivors of the crash. That had to be what was happening. She had been correct that they would come looking for her. They probably already searched the crash site, or maybe even killed other survivors. Rannah had not seen a few of her friends in the wreckage. Maybe they tried making their own way out of there and were found. Either by the Semisa, or by the Ovies.

She tried to picture a fire in her mind and began to feel rather warm. She began to smile, but realized that this was actually horrible. She was beginning to feel warm despite her condition. It was the first sign that she was freezing to death. If only that dropship would just go away. Her teeth chattered as she counted down the minutes, but then the engines fired again. The craft began to move towards the waterfall and lower once it crossed the edge.

Why there? Rannah picked herself up and began to shuffle towards the edge. Her movements were much more sluggish now, and she felt disconnected, and her thoughts were distant, and she had lost balance on more than one occasion. All she could think of was a fire.

She needed a fire.

Her breath came out in small clouds that drifted into the sky. It was early March, but still cold. There had not been a flake of snow this winter. She was thankful for it. Tracks would be easy to follow.

So cold.

Fire.

Another howl at her back. Her broken leg bone seemed like it wasn't even hers anymore. The Semisa were on her tail and would figure out her location, and the Overlanders were in front of her, and as things were turning out, neither side would get the chance to lay a finger or claw on her. She was mother nature's now.

She glanced down at her rife, and a slight twinge of a smile crossed her lips, and her eyes had a rather distant gleam in them.

No. There was a way out.

Her smile shook, partially from the urge to just end this pain. Her hand absentmindedly reached down to grab the barrel and bring it up. Her head was now shaking like a struck bell. She couldn't tell if her hands were shaking or if her vision was.

Nine pounds of trigger pull, she thought to herself, eyes welling up.

She dropped the gun, smacking herself in the face with all of the force she could muster. Her mind cleared momentarily. She was many things right now, but stupid wasn't one of them.

That craft had dropped down beyond the ridge. Why?

Her intellectual curiosity got the better of her, especially since she didn't see nor hear the craft leave. She moved as fast as her limbs would allow, keeping low, now not caring about the injuries. Her lower leg had swollen over the last few hours and her boot became painfully tight. She crept as close to the edge of the drop as she could and peered over the edge. The craft had landed, and its hatch was open. Bright yellow-orange light streamed from the interior.

She swallowed. It looked warm. She nearly dropped the gun from her limp fingers.

Rope. She needed some rope. With reluctance, Rannah slipped the pack off her back and fumbled to unclip the straps. When it was open, she nudged aside all of the magazines to find a one hundred foot role of nylon parachute cord. It was all she had, and she was horribly worried that it wouldn't take her weight. Her teeth chattered as she pulled it out and scarfed down another MRE quickly in the hopes that it would kickstart her metabolism and heat her core up.

Putting the pack back on, Rannah found a tree close to the edge of the fall. The Semisa could have picked up her trail again. They were horrifyingly intelligent and knew these woods. They knew the river came to this fall and that there was only one way down at this point. But the bastards couldn't climb rope. She let a quick flickering smile cross her face. She tried tying a triple knot, but her fingers fumbled. She swore as she tired again, and again, but she couldn't make her fingers work the way she wanted them too. She stamped her foot in anger and her mouth fell open in silent pain and she nearly doubled over. Gritting her teeth and straining, she forced the pain back down. Maybe there was a fracture she was not aware of. To her surprise, the pain cleared her mind, and she tried again to tie the rope around the oak. It had to be an oak - they had good circumference and stability. Also, they were a sign of good luck since they produced acorns. Any thinner, like a birch, and she was afraid it would break.

She slapped the knot for additional luck, and slowly made her way back to the ledge. It was a long drop. She couldn't say for certain, but she had a hundred feet of rope. If it was less, she was fine. If it was more...

She closed her eyes and kicked the coil off the ledge. the parachute cord whipped into the darkness below. She reminded herself that she was not climbing the rope, she was climbing down, and that would put less pressure on it.

She put one foot over the ledge, and then the second. Grabbing the rope, she slid over. Immediately she was in free fall. Rannah squeaked in surprise and grabbed the rope with all her limbs. She didn't have the friction without her gloves, but she stopped. She let both eyes open and saw that she was maybe five feet away from the cliff wall. She looked up and saw that she must have already fallen twenty feet. The cord was holding, much to her relief.

But she was in no-man's-land, in an intermediary point of danger until she could cross entirely. If she lost her grip, she would plummet again, and there was still no telling how far above the ground she was in the darkness. It still looked to be another fifty or seventy feet - still enough to kill her easily.

She slid further, letting up the pressure ever so slightly. The top of the trees rose to meet her, and after a few more seconds, she felt a thump beneath her. She fell over, grabbing her broken leg, but nevertheless with a smile on her face.

She took a second to compose herself. That craft wouldn't be here forever, but she now had a shot. A shot at what she wasn't sure. Warmth? Travel?

She began to laugh. It had gotten late. The moon had set, and near total darkness set in. She had better night eyes than the Overlanders though. She would use that to her advantage. She raised the gun and made sure to tip whatever water was still in the barrel out. She checked to make sure the gun was still chambered. It was.

Staying low, Rannah slipped off the safety and crept towards the water, willing the pain in her leg, and now her ankle, to go away. Every step she took did more damage to her joints, but she wouldn't stop. Not now. She was close now.

The trees broke, and the foaming bottom of the waterfall stood on her left, and just beyond the river, she saw the aircraft resting briefly on the ground, engines still spewing heat into the air in blurred clouds. The exterior lights were dark, but the interior was lit in a warm yellowish light.

She swallowed. It looked so warm. So warm. She had begun to walk towards it as if it was the gate to heaven, and then stopped as she saw another light towards the bottom of the fall. In the misty cloud there were beams of light cutting through the tumbling water, roughly five to six feet above the ground. Her ears jerked down towards her skull, and her jaw set. Enemies. They were pre-occupied. Could she engage here? No. It was impossible to ID a target. Her fingers felt numb too.

She had to get closer. That meant that she needed to cross the water again. She retched at the thought. The water was cold. So very cold. She could feel the fur strip from her skin every second within, and the current was hard too.

It wasn't a very wide point though, perhaps twenty to thirty feet. It wouldn't be a long swim. There was no way across though. At any second, the Overlanders would sweep their lights over and find her, but something was catching their attention. What though?

Rannah lowered herself to the edge of the water and slowly walked in, jittering as the water crept up her body, over her pelvis, torso, and soon it was at her neck. She could feel the river starting to carry her, the water forced downstream by the twisting vortex. It was so cold she thought she would pass out, and if she spent too long here, she would. Out. Cold. So cold. Her shuddering breaths came out in streams of steam as she forced herself to kick across the water. Once or twice her boots struck the bottom. Her left foot hit a rock, and to stop herself from crying out, she bit into her left hand so hard she drew blood. Tasting copper on her tongue, the medic realized she was drifting farther now. She resumed her seemingly short sojourn until she reached out and grabbed a thick tuft of grass. Her body continued to be carried by the water while her arms tried to haul her onto the grass. It felt like Rannah was lifting an anvil, but she willed herself up, once again a sopping and shivering mess. This time she wasn't sure she could rise. She had lost feeling in her fingers, and her toes were just as numb. On the plus side, her leg was not hurting as much anymore.

Rannah was scared she had nerve damage, but she began to crawl, to force her blood to pump again. She kept herself low and edged along slowly at first, but then quicker. What was keeping the Overlanders? For nearly fifteen minutes she edged closer, but the soldiers had not moved from where they were standing by the falls.

She stood, and it felt horrible. With a slow hand, she slipped the rifle up to her shoulder, and walked forward. Rannah moved, boots still logged with water, her socks completely sodden, and the squishing of her footsteps threatening to give her away.

Fifteen meters, and then ten.

They were looking down at the ground, backs to her.

She had not come all this way for nothing. Her friends had died because of these people. She would pay them in kind.

She pulled the trigger as fast as she could move her fingers.

The weapon bucked in her slack hands, the crack of the gunshot almost unbearably loud against the cliff wall. Thirty shots walked around in the space of fifteen seconds, the Overlanders jerked and cried out as the .308 caliber rounds cut through their body armor, splattering the rock with blood. She fired, screaming as she did so, thinking of everyone she knew dead from the crash, because of these monsters.

The bolt locked, and the gun stopped firing, smoke wafting from the barrel and the open chamber. Rannah smelled cordite and was breathing rapidly and hoarsely. Her ears were ringing, and she couldn't hear the waterfall.

One of the Overlanders was still moving, having rolled over. Rannah coldly stepped over him, looking at what had caught their attention. It was a body.

Rannah gasped. It was someone she knew, the leader of her unit, Lieutenant Black. She remembered the canine on the transport, just before they were shot down. The Lieutenant had been sitting three seats fore of her, just before the attack. Rannah dropped to her knees, her mind quickly racing, suddenly alert and suddenly on point. She placed her ear against his muzzle, but could not make out any breath. She placed a finger against his carotid and felt for a pulse, but to her great sadness, she could feel nothing.

Dead. Dead again.

Rannah began to cry. How could this have happened? His fur looked matted, as if he had been submerged.

Then it made sense. Black had survived the crash, probably landed somewhere else. He had been a good navigator and found the river just as she had, and had ended up in it. She didn't see a weapon anywhere near. If he had one, he had lost it at some point. Rannah ran her fingers over his brow, and came away with blood. Then it made sense.

Black had gone over the falls.

She looked up at the height. It had to be close to a hundred feet. Looking back down, she saw that the back of his clipped head had more blood. She figured it out quickly. The Overlanders had pulled Black from the rocks at the bottom of the waterfall.

She felt as if a knife had pierced her heart. The realization that someone had the same idea as her made her feel even worse than finding him anywhere else. She was alive and he was dead. It simply wasn't fair.

The howling returned, but she ignored it. She placed a hand on his chest and whispered a prayer. Both Black and Rannah had worshipped the Ancients, and both had first generation Namesakes. They had gotten along well because of it. It was not fair.

Just under his dogtags, Rannah spotted the small necklace he always wore - a large circle with a smaller one underneath on a ring - the symbol of the Church - Earth and the Moon.

The medic reached up and closed his eyes, two chips of icy blue were sealed for the last time.

She got up and looked at the Overlanders with feelings of murder in her eyes. She felt rage that caused her heart to flare up to an unimaginable level. She shook. She screeched, and she kicked the man still making feeble movements. Her boot came down on his chest and she kept on going until he stopped moving. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground next to the fallen Overlander, hands balled and ready to strike again.

His eyes jittered, and his lips tried to move, fingers shaking violently, and wounds bleeding.

"Why...?" he whispered, lips quivering.

"Murderers!" she screamed in his face. "Murderers! I'll kill every one of you! You killed my friends!"

The man's eyes darted around, and tears fell from his eyes.

"We're doctors...! We...!" he said, before his voice became soft. "Why...?" he rasped, before going still, eyes streaming as he looked up at the stars, wide, and unmoving, and the clouds of breath ceased.

Rannah stopped abruptly. Her jaw went slack. No. It had to be a lie.

"Doctors?"

She looked over the ruined remains of the Overlander's uniform riddled with bullet holes that went straight through the body. She found what she was looking for on the shoulder of the dead man's uniform - a green cross.

She jumped, quickly looking on the second man, finding an identical patch on the other man.

Rannah's breathing quickened again, this time she looked desperately for a weapon, any weapon at all. She searched through the grass, near the rocks, underneath the bodies, but she could find nothing. No guns, no knives, no weapons of any sort.

She felt her legs weaken and she fell backwards, landing on the ground with a dull thump. She had killed two doctors. Two civilians. Her mind began to race. They were the enemy though. They were Overlanders, responsible for killing thousands. She was doing the world a favor for doing it.

But she ran out of excuses. She looked at her rifle and tossed it away from her.

She couldn't even cry anymore. She was too scared to; too tired to.

She heard the howls again, this time closer.

She considered letting them get her, but then she thought different. Rannah grabbed her rifle, and slowly moved towards the dropship.

"Doctors."

They would have taken him to a POW camp anyway. He would have been a prisoner.

But they wanted to help him.

"First do no harm."

Breath came from her in streams in the cold air, but she wasn't even aware she was speaking as she went to the door of the craft. She stumbled a few times before grabbing the latch as she stepped in. and closed the door behind her, locking the door behind her.

She was safe. Safe from everything. She felt no more cold, but instead warmth now. It had to be warm in here of course. She was so tired, drained, and wanted to sleep.

She needed rest of course. She had a long journey ahead of her and needed rest. Around her, the dropship's interior was dark, and the computers continued to flicker at the cockpit. Around her, the crew bay was filled with stretchers, medical equipment, and transfusion freezers. Not one weapon on the shelves anywhere.

"Doctors." she whispered, unable to say the word easily.

It didn't matter what happened now.

She was alone again.

Rannah's legs gave way as she fell on her face noiselessly, and ten seconds later she was still; her last conscious thought filled with the howling of wolves.