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Colony Negative
Six: Damien

Six: Damien

All I could see was the black nothing of Cole’s black helmet screen, seeing my own reflection. I’ve kneeled over bodies multiple times, most if not all victims of my violence. His death was a premonition, a sign of the beginning of the end. Maybe my end. I could hear that high pitched ringing of his soul escaping, not filling me with joy as it had with Crowe. I could still hear the ringing, over and over, increasing in pitch and never ending.

It wasn’t until I woke up that I realized that sound was the emergency alarms blaring over the sound speakers. Sluggishly, I rolled out from my bed, drenched in sweat of nightmares. In the process, my arm hit the bottle of whiskey I had nearly finished last night, spilling the remnants on the floor.

“Fuck,” I cursed, my head pounding from a strenuous hangover. My vision was slightly blurry, running over to the nearest clothes I could find to get dressed. I couldn’t tell how long the alarms were blaring or what the specific message was. Maybe it was a lockdown, perhaps someone had grown insane over the chaos of yesterday.

Something told me it wasn’t that, it was worse. Something told me Jacqueline Deveraux had been right.

I felt the sharp needle of the Stimuli in my thigh as I stabbed myself, hoping it would be just enough to remove my grogginess. I didn’t know how much time I had to properly armor up, so it was just a shirt, jeans and my rifle. I opened the door of the living suites, finding it absolutely quiet and empty. My fingers adjusted my rifle, tuning it into a more close range shotgun as I slowly traversed down the halls, keeping my weapon close to level.

Turning into the main courtyard full of leisure spots and Jack’s favorite coffee spot, it still remained eerily quiet. That is, until echoes of gunshots from the halls beyond began. The shots were rapid and chaotic, indicating maybe whatever they were shooting at caught them by surprise. Surely no District was stupid enough to invade this operational outpost?

No. They wouldn’t have gotten past the perimeter without being spotted.

I kept my gun level with the floor this time, controlling my breathing as I hunched with each step, moving as quietly as possible.

And then, I heard it. That unknown, guttural, deep rhythmic voice that was more like a purr with variations of pitch. It sounded like a song, a deep, borderline bass-like voice overheard in the constant music my men liked to listen to at the gym. Only this wasn’t motivational lyrics, this was a warning of death.

I slowly peeked over the corner of the wall, seeing that thing, the thing I had just killed yesterday, slowly chomping away at the body on the floor. Its teeth gnawed playfully at the intestines, the body still spurting blood all over the pristine white walls. I took a deep breath, wondering how the fuck this thing could still be alive. It wasn’t until I looked further that it was clear this…thing, was wearing partially torn socks at the hind legs and nothing else.

This wasn’t the thing I killed yesterday, not the same exact one. Someone had turned into it. It fed on its victims, only for those same victims to probably turn into it. Zombies? No. That was just ridiculous science fiction for little boys to read and gleam over when they had nothing better to do. Even I knew this was far more sophisticated, far more unknown, and far more deadly.

My first shot put large holes into the alien’s torso, only to slowly regenerate and fill up. Another shot, followed by another and another, my shoulder already tender from the shots of yesterday screamed at me to stop. The blast alone sent the alien against the wall, a noise leaving its blood covered lips at each shot penetrating its skin. Yet it still remained alive.

I didn’t have my sword with me, not even remembering where I had placed that last night before my drunken debacle. Decapitation seemed the best and only solution by far to stop these things, I just lacked the perfect tool for it. Stupid. Fucking stupid of me to not come more prepared. Stupid of me to get drunk. Stupid of me to let this happen.

All I had was theory, not my biggest strong suit. I knew how to kill, I just might have the wrong tool. Or so I initially thought. I had to take advantage as the alien regenerated, both its body and strength after twelve pellets to the torso. I might not be able to sever the neck, but what if I could break it?

The blood seeping all over the tiles made it slippery, my boots lacking grip before I tackled the creature, finding it more lightweight than I thought. It felt skeletal, lacking all the weight of body fat or deep muscles. But it certainly had strength. It struggled against my grip, both of us slamming into the floor, splashing ourselves with blood. My weight was the advantage now. My legs tangled around it from behind, prying its own legs apart to remove the use of its lower limbs.

It took great exertion for my arms to wrap firmly around its head, but it was done. I felt its panicked voice against my throat, that gargled demonic unknown cursing at me as it tried to thrash around. It wanted me to lose my grip, but I had the power now. I would force the life out of it, whether it wanted me to or not. It knew I was in control. It was clear the alien didn’t need oxygen to survive, as constricting its throat didn’t do much. By now any normal human would have collapsed in my arms unconscious.

Time to put the theory to practice.

My bicep jerked one way, my other hand pressing against the jaw to go the opposite. Sharp cracking was heard, my action breaking its neck with force. The alien let out an unearthly groan before going frigid, similar to the one like yesterday. Well, theory was proven right. I let it go, sliding from underneath before leaning against the nearest wall.

My arms were covered in droplets of blood, sinking into my skin. With a sharp blink, I imagined these white walls as black, my smaller hands trembling as I laid in a pool of blood of my own creation. My damned creation. It was from that day I was cursed to follow orders, their orders. Killing was supposed to make me feel better, yet it was making me sick. To Sabbath, they were one in the same. The day I refused to kill was the day I would die.

Footsteps were heard and I glanced up, seeing a member of Acid Squad in full uniform rushing over, pointing his rifle at me. When I noticed the familiar Octopus insignia painted on his chest, I knew it was Grimes. He didn’t move that rifle away from me.

“Sir, did you get bitten?!” He asked, loudly and harshly.

“No,” I slowly stood, showing my all parts of my body despite the blood with my hands raised, “What the fuck is going on?”

He hesitated for a moment, lowering his rifle, “Cole…he came back to life. As that thing, whatever the fuck it was. He went on a rampage in the morgue, killing almost everyone. And then some of those started turning and the entire thing has been chaos ever since. This was the last one spotted recently, and it looks like you handled it.”

“Yeah, we had a bit of a wrestling match. Breaking the neck seems to do the trick. I think anything that disconnects the brain to the rest of its nervous system is quite effective,” I explained.

“Rue, this is Grimes. The one spotted in Sector 18 is dead, one victim so far. Any other sightings?” Grimes asked on comms, moving over to the victim to observe, “Looks like a member of the science team…another member.” He then pulled out his laser sword, slicing off the head of that scientist.

Maybe that might be enough to stop from turning, one could hope.

“Standby,” Ruenova’s voice echoed loud enough for me to hear.

Another science member. Shit. A weird sense of worry filled me, glancing up at Grimes. Surely if they were going to begin an autopsy, Doctor Deveraux would have attended or at the very least observed.

“Grimes, is Deveraux alright?” I cleared my throat, removing any tone of concern.

The way his body slackened filled me with dread, “I don’t know. She was the one to make the first report over comms before the whole nightmare turned chaotic. We haven't heard from her since.”

“Shit,” I cursed, “where’s the morgue?”

“Lowest Level, furthest section east. I thought you memorized the map of this place?” Grimes hummed, slight amusement in his voice at my mistake.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fucking hungover and can’t think,” I explained, “I’ll make my way down there.”

“You sound concerned for her…” Grimes observed, handing me a small blade, “Laser knife. I’d give you my sword but-”

“Keep the sword. Knife should be fine,” I agreed, “And I’m not concerned for her. I don’t care for her. All I know is that she might be the only person to figure this out. She’s the smartest one here, that’s for damned sure.”

I didn’t care for her. I cared for her work, oddly enough. I saw all the work she put in yesterday from a mere handful of scraps in a deserted wasteland. That was talent, that was ambition. If she would have such ambition to figure out these aliens and why they were here, how we could defeat them…then she wasn’t my enemy.

Not yet. Not how I had originally thought.

I made my way down to the morgue, knowing I left a trail of bloody footprints behind with each step. The only ones out were still my own agents and squads, patrolling and clearing the halls. Victims were already displayed all over the various hallways or rooms, all of them being decapitated as soon as possible. So many dead. Too many.

The morgue was a fucking mess. Blood trailed all over the place, glass shattered everywhere and bodies collapsed sporadically. My eyes scanned the area, only finding one alien, a dead one at that. Someone had toppled a freezer onto it, the angle and pressure just enough to pinch the alien’s upside down neck. Well, that was pretty good improvising.

Behind the freezer and dead alien, there was a woman with a black turtleneck and lab coat. My heart seized, immediately running over. Turning her body, the mask made it clear it was her.

“Hey Doc, can you hear me?” I asked, my hands gently touching and probing her skin. When pressing fingers to her neck, I felt a pulse. She was alive. Thank the fucking gods.

But an even greater fear surged. What if she had been bitten? Immediately my hands roamed her torso, lifting her limbs for any sign of a bite. Nothing. There were plenty of freshly formed bruises and cuts, but no bites. The alien must’ve slammed her into the wall, before being crushed. When my eyes went back to her face, those green eyes flashed open. She didn’t need to even glance down at my hands to notice the inappropriateness, one hand lingering on her upper thigh, the other near her left breast.

“You fucking necrophiliac-” she spat, immediately pulling away from me.

“What?! Jack, I was just making sure you weren’t bitten,” I shook my head. It probably didn’t help that I looked covered in blood. I didn’t even know what she had called me but it probably wasn’t something nice.

She seemed to finally understand, glancing around now at her surroundings before her voice broke through the mask. She was in pain, both physically and emotionally.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her hand moving to a corner of her forehead.

“What happened?” I asked, seeing her take a moment to recollect.

“We were beginning biological scans. Everything seemed fine until we noticed his genetic structure code change. And then all of a sudden he was awake. Sedatives didn’t stop him from changing. I tried to make sure the rest of my team got out but…Cole immediately jumped through the glass for them.”

“That’s not Cole,” I shook my head.

“It was. It was his voice that spoke through…in whatever language that was,” she dejected, “Genetics contradict you, anyways. I…I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Her fingers kept pressing at a very sensitive part of her forehead. Her eyes winced at the slight ache.

“Maybe you should wear a helmet indoors too,” I teased, seeing her eyes narrow. Her nose scrunched slightly when she did so, sneering at me.

“Helmet and mask don’t work well together, kind of like us,” she scoffed, finally explaining her reasoning. I suppose I hadn’t exactly thought about that. I already considered the mask a part of her in a way. I was already content with never seeing what laid beneath it. Surely I knew a few military engineers that could think of some work around.

A deep echo of a sound now becoming so familiar to us silenced us before I could tease her further. The body of the organic chemist that had idolized Jack began contorting on the floor, back arching and arms flailing. It was transforming right in front of us, shedding clothing and the layers of dermis. Jacqueline slowly backed into me, her hand reaching back to rest gently on my inner thigh.

An imaginary image of what it would feel like for that hand to go further inward, wrap around my cock-

Whoa. What the fuck was I thinking? I was still drunk, dangerously hungover, clearly. I thought perhaps killing one of these fuckers would have sobered me up but I guessed not. There was no reason to have my mind go there. It filled my stomach with disgust, associating her with such a thought. Alcohol was often a catalyst into my sexual deviations, but not as far as imagining it with her.

Gross. Fuck no.

“They can’t see well,” she whispered very quietly.

Well, that explained how she survived. She was the first to notice that, lure Cole’s alien body into this corner before letting the freezer collapse on him. So, she could kill after all, even if not with her bare hands. Her improvisation was astoundingly good, perhaps equal to my own.

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I nodded slowly, understanding before I began to slowly rise to my feet. Her hand slipped away from my leg, the chaos in my mind bouncing all over the place once more. I knew it was best to take advantage of this thing still in the process of changing, and time was running out as that pale white skin was slowly morphing into brown.

My knife plunged into its neck, and then into the skull, hearing the blade pierce bones. My hands gripped the back of its remaining hair to steady before sawing at the throat, hearing the alien scream before falling deaf as I killed it. The blood that pooled at my feet was both red and black, half of its body not fully transformed. I threw the severed head into the corner, feeling an odd wave of nausea before taking a deep breath. These things were vile, utterly disgusting.

“How’d you learn they can’t see well?” I asked, shaking my tired wrist from all that stabbing before walking over to the alien crushed by the freezer. Best to decapitate this one fully, for good measure.

“Lucky guess,” she exhaled, her eyes watching me, “their eyes look similar to any form of blindness.”

The morning for me had just started. For her, it had probably started hours ago. But the day was really just starting for everyone else. The sounds of the alarms eventually quieted to a halt before CSO Ruenova was heard over the silence.

“Lockdown lifted. Agent Rok, get your team ready to move all bodies towards the hangar for removal. Everyone else…find something to do.”

Right, back to work. Moving these sons of bitches wouldn’t be too hard. Moving the actual human corpses would take most of the grunt work. I should probably suit up a bit if I had any interest in keeping myself clean, despite already being covered in blood.

“Alright, so we put them in the hanger and then what?” I asked, mostly to myself.

“Decapitate them, and then burn them,” Jack answered, her tone serious. While she wasn’t prone to taking lives, she knew now that these bodies couldn’t be at risk of being studied. Not when there was still potential for them to change and create this scenario all over again.

Burning corpses was something I had experience in, and luckily Milithreat had some very nice flamethrowers laying around somewhere.

“How hot?” I asked.

“As hot as possible. Burn them to ashes.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was finally able to get a boiling hot shower before hearing my datapad go off, stepping out to see a message from Ruenova. She wanted to talk, to clearly debrief me on the crisis at hand. The pile of bodies had been massive. While I had drowned my sorrows in the sole death that was Cole, I had ignored Jack’s pleas and brought his body back here. Now, at least fifty personnel are dead.

Dead, because of me.

When I walked over to her office, I was surprised to see Jacqueline Deveraux waiting there, still wearing her turtleneck and her eyes deeply scanning over data on her tablet. When she glanced up, she seemed just as surprised to see me there. Clearly, this briefing was meant to be conducted together. Her eyes already looked tired despite it only being the afternoon. She had been studying all the data she had most of this morning.

She really should have at least taken a lunch break.

“Hey,” I greeted her, seeing her nod in return, “what’s a necrophiliac? Or whatever you called me.”

“You really don’t know?” she asked, definitely with a condescending tone.

“Well am I one or not? I don’t know what it is,” I crossed my arms, seeing her eyes briefly gaze at them before back at my eyes.

“It’s someone who has sex with dead people or…things,” she clarified.

I laughed, seeing her not expecting that. I had never heard of such a morbid, disgusting thing before.

“It’s no laughing matter Rok, why do you think most morticians are women?” she suggested. I didn’t realize until she said that, that she was right. Most of all the morticians I spoke with to clarify if my targets were truly dead were women.

“Well, I’m not one if that makes you sleep better at night,” I immediately declared my innocence, “That’s pretty revolting.”

Ruenova opened her office door, pointing at the two chairs closely placed beyond her desk, “Sit.”

Both of us followed orders. I spread my legs comfortably on the chair, annoyingly letting my knee brush Jack’s. She was quick to let out a slight sound of disgust, scooting her chair slightly to the right to avoid my touch. Shit, it was like she had no idea where her hand had been placed earlier this morning.

All three of us were silent, taking deep steady breaths. Chaos existed all around us, but all of us were hopefully smart enough to bring it in here and eradicate it. We all needed to be smart, to be cautious and careful in this room. This was where real change could happen.

“Right, well let’s go over what we do know after this clusterfuck,” she sighed, pulling up her summarized report, “sixty-two dead, seventy percent of that being scientific staff, a few Milithreat agents, and various professional staff. Sixteen agents have ranging injuries, half of those in the critical stage. Others all have injuries from cuts, bruises, to concussions. Doctor, how is your head?”

“It’s fine, cleared from concussion protocol,” she answered.

“Good. We were fortunate enough none of our survivors were bitten, otherwise a difficult choice would have been made. Rok, you’ve been reported to kill three of these things already. How do you kill them?”

“Decapitation. Laser bullets to the head certainly stun or slow them down, but don’t kill them. Severing the head from the neck by any means possible appears to be the most effective method,” I answered.

“I’m assuming a laser sword, then, is the best tool for the job?” Ruenova asked.

“Yes,” Jack and I both answered together, to my surprise.

“The heat inside that sword reaches over two hundred degrees, enough to burn remnants of bacteria or parasite,” Jacqueline clarified, “any normal sword or blade may work, but the heat is an additional precaution.

“There’s just one problem with that. Only leadership positions within Milithreat are given a laser sword, as a sign of promotion. And very few among those leaders are actually trained with such weapons,” I looked at Ruenova, seeing her concern, “even if we could theoretically arm every soldier and agent here with one, Milithreat won’t like it. It ruins their chain of command structure, not to mention the cost.”

“Yes, that’s what concerns me. Supply told me these swords cost nearly half an agents yearly salary,” Ruenova scoffed, “we might have to budget accordingly-”

“That won’t be necessary, ma’am,” Jack chimed in, taking a deep breath, “I have contacts I can reach out to, send outdated laser swords here. For free, minus maybe a shipping cost in as little as two weeks. We can have them by the next supply rotation. That way, Milithreat doesn’t have to know about the training, and hopefully the agents will be tight lipped about using one. They won’t be the most updated, given the patent is nearly a decade old. But they should still function to our needs,”

I glanced over at her, still with surprise. That was awfully generous of her now. Ever since she took over the family business, it had turned more into a science rather than a weapon industry. She didn’t know how to run such a business and maybe let the other executives handle that. Surely, losing a large amount of these laser swords would be a dent to potential profit. She didn’t care. She had the means to deliver them without care for the cost, not when the biggest cost to her was saving human lives.

“Well, that’s very kind of you, Doctor. Surely compensation must be made,” I pointed out, not sarcastically either.

“I don’t care for compensation,” she crossed her arms, looking at me, “I want our voices to be equal.”

“They are,” Ruenova pointed out.

“Maybe in here, but not out there. I made a call to not let Cole’s body return with us, a call that was ignored,” Jack explained, frustration clear in her voice.

“Right…” Ruenova nodded, taking a deep breath, “care to explain yourself, Rok?”

I now realized they were ganging up on me. How rude, given I just dispatched myself to their little problem this morning. A problem maybe I had inadvertently created.

“Me? It’s my motto to never leave a man or woman behind,” I explained, feeling a surge of anger but I did my best to swallow it, “I knew Cole had recently gotten married a month before this deployment. He has a newborn on the way. I thought the least I could do for his newly broken family was give them a funeral, one where they would know for certain that the casket wouldn’t be empty. I know what it’s like to hand nothing but dog tags to a loved one. I’ve attended several funerals as the only mourner present. I wanted to do right by his family.”

Because I knew what it was like to lose mine. Because I feared nobody would attend my funeral when it happened. Nobody would be there for me.

Jack remained silent, her eyes looking down at her shoes. Maybe she knew what it was like. If she didn’t, she certainly would know soon given a good portion of her team was gone.

“Jack, what made you believe that was the right call to make?” Ruenova asked, much more gently than when she asked me. Rightfully so. But, it was an odd suggestion in hindsight now. Did Jack know something like this could happen? Were there any signs she found that she didn’t tell me?

“The entire situation felt wrong. Agent Rok is very…quick minded. It’s admirable,” she surprisingly complimented me, “however with something so unknown, I thought it was best to take slow, strict precautions. Something told me to keep the body isolated. Nothing indicated he was ‘infected’. Even once we pulled him out from refrigeration, he seemed normal.”

“Interesting. What took him so long to turn?” Ruenova inquired.

“Don’t know. Could have varied by temperature, body structure, immune system. We don’t know, and we won’t know because we burned our only evidence. A good call to make. Right now, my team can only analyze what we know and what little we have from mostly leftover blood,” she sighed.

“Which is?” I asked with intrigue.

“My team has already coined the term for these aliens as an anathema. Call it whatever you like, but that’s what they are: abominations. What we define as alien, is something foreign, different DNA structure, different form of genetics. Despite knowing now that these anathema are now turned humans, they are still alien by nature,” she explained, “it’s hard to explain.”

“So, like zombies,” I shrugged, “that’s not hard to explain.”

“Sort of,” Jack scoffed slightly at my childish effort, “but not really. Zombies aren’t real, even so, it wouldn’t change most of the genetic structure. It would just be an attack on the nervous system, almost like a parasite controlling it. This is like…humans turning into something they’re not. Damien, if you died and then turned into a zebra-”

“I would not turn into a zebra!” I gasped, “Maybe a lion but not a zebra.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jack scowled, “okay fine, you die. You die, this thing takes a nice, juicy bite out of your stupid head, and then you turn into a lion. Genetically, you are now a lion, but you may not necessarily look like one. You speak like a lion, roar or whatever the fuck they do, you can’t speak English or any other known language, but you can speak to other lions. That is what happens with the anathemas, what has happened, what will happen.”

Ruenova remained silent during our little exchange, glancing at the both of us before humming, “Okay, we refer to them as anathemas. They change our genetic structure into one of them. Do the bodies need to be alive during the bite, or after? Say one of them found the District Three assassin’s body and bit it long after Rok shot him, is that enough?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have the science yet to prove it, but I think we should take all precautions necessary. If someone were to drop dead of a heart attack tonight, it wouldn’t hurt to remove the head. It doesn’t sound scientifically possible, but we can’t take any chances,” she insisted, “we won’t know until…until we go back and learn more.”

“Agree. Alright, Rok, what do you and your team know?” Ruenova looked at me.

“We easily hacked the encrypted information of Crowe’s datapad. District Three has already lost numerous staff, over fifty percent of the entire operations. They don’t have the budgetary means to send more personnel over. They have to do with what they have. Crowe was told not to go back to their base camp until it was secure. It’s unsure if it even is secure. With Crowe dispatched, it’s safe to say District Three won’t be much of a problem. They have greater problems to worry about than us,” I shrugged.

“Anything further about me?” Jack asked slowly, wondering if there was something I wasn’t telling her.

“Nope,” I shook my head, “have you ever wronged District Three before?”

“I may have written a study on how horrible their serfdom-structured economy was damaging the happiness of their citizens. That was years ago and was hardly published into anything substantial,” she shook her head, “It’s not enough to kill someone over.”

“You’d be surprised,” I hummed. I’d kill over a slice of chocolate cake, especially if the person was deserving of death. Now, I did think she was right, that alone really didn’t seem enough to kill her over.

They believed her to be a difference maker, which it was clear she was. Any other scientist I knew would have retreated back into their lab and stayed there. Hell, some were already calling to be deployed back home. She didn’t look like she was leaving, even if she was scared. Bravery wasn’t not feeling fear. She was brave, even if some of my men didn’t think that.

“Okay, so, it will be at least a month of recruiting to regain the staff lost. Two weeks to get laser swords, two weeks after to train all agents effectively in using them. I want us back to normal study status by the end of the month, if possible. Rok, I need you and your team to make sure to establish a perimeter and keep it as clear as possible. Once we have supplies and the right tools, it’s time to go deeper in that hole. Jack, unfortunately your team will have to work with what they have,” Ruenova explained, “Sound clear?”

“Crystal,” I answered. An entire month before really getting answers would irk me, but maybe they were right to be precautious. I wouldn’t mind keeping my team above ground for now, patrolling the areas. I could even have demolitions set up mines both around the hole or any gaps. But with District Three most likely out of our hairs for now, I knew it would be a boring month.

Jack nodded, remaining silent. She was pondering, perhaps not excited about having to actually go deeper into that darkness. I couldn’t blame her, but that meant I would have to find a way to build her confidence. I had to make her feel the slightest safe, just as she had to make my team feel safe. They may not know a thing about science, but any information might provide us and Milithreat more assurance.

“In the meantime, you two need to work this out,” Ruenova added, to my frustration, “you need to work as a team, just the two of you. You both need to learn to respect one another. Both your opinions matter and should matter to the other. I don’t care if it takes yelling at one another, but figure it out. Both of you are irreplaceable for your teams, be irreplaceable for each other.”

“Ruenova, with all due respect-” Jack spoke before seeing our CSO shake her head, not wanting to hear any of it.

“You will disrespect me if you two cannot act like functional adults to each other. Now, I will not force you into some bonding exercise or anything mimicking marriage therapy for you. I expect both of you to work something out,” Ruenova rejected any of her complaints, “You’re dismissed.”

Jack was quick to get up and not say anything as she left the office. I offered Ruenova a reassuring smile, one she seemed to offer back. Yeah, maybe Grimes was right. She did have a slight thing for me. Only thing was, she was my boss and I had a certain rule about that. I’d let it play out, see where it took us. Certainly if we shared a few drinks together, then it might happen. For that to happen, I should be on my best behavior and do as I was told.

That meant having to make amends somehow.

When I left the office, it didn’t surprise me Jacqueline was nowhere to be found. She would be quick to return to her work, whereas I had to be patient with mine. This upcoming month would have been more difficult to deal with, without her generous offer for those laser swords. She had provided a real gift, something that put her on Ruenova’s good terms, and well, possibly my own.

She didn’t have to do that, but did. She knew very well how much of an advantage she was providing us. And today, she understood my reasoning for wanting Cole’s body kept here, even if she didn’t agree with it. I had to let go of my past judgements on people like her. I had to trust her to keep me alive, just as she had to trust me.

Maybe getting her a gift was a good way to mend this gap between us.