It took a while for me to finally adjust the balance of my leg, accounting for the hole punched through it. Even with it being patched over with metal from one of my main guns, walking on it stung. Ignoring the dull ache of pain, I pull myself out of the cave I had managed to crawl to. I wouldn't call it mountainous, but it still gave me a good overview of the terrain. Part of the jungle was a flaming mess, likely a result of Abyssal shelling, which seemed to have moved Southward for some reason.
Had I been overly cautious? Was Abyssals unable to track and pick up radio signals? No, that didn't make sense. Knowing my luck, it had something to do with that aviation battleship. What was with that thing, anyway? To my knowledge, Abyssals were little better than rabid animals, attempting to kill all of humanity.
Of course, my knowledge on the matter was sparse. Quite sparse. It wasn't like there was a lot to go off of, but still.
But it was only going to be a matter of time before they head inland to find me. And I intend to make full use out of any head start I could get.
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Yeah, this was going to bother me. The space on my rigging continued to draw my eye. I hadn't been aware of it before, but the weight was now gone. A faint flicker of what was once there remained, but that was it.
It just felt wrong, like I was off balance. My gun layout was pretty much symmetrical, and now it wasn't.
This really shouldn't be getting under my skin as much as it was.
Of course, I could just be distracting myself from the jungle. This wasn't getting any easier.
Were we still moving eastward? Good. The sooner I was out of shelling range, the safer I'd feel.
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Another abandoned village. More beat up and ransacked than the one I encountered last week. Most buildings were flattened, nothing more than piles of bricks, mortar, steel, and wood. What remained intact was in such a state of disrepair that it would likely collapse on me if I tried to enter.
Finding food wasn't going well either. Maybe the Abbysal's had picked the area clean. I mean, they did need to eat, or at least I hoped they did. I might have to try hunting, something I was relucent to do, as I doubted I could start a fire easily, without giving away my location.
Maybe there was something left in the rusting tank that was crashed into a building. Not exactly sure what the model was, I knew next to nothing about military tanks, but maybe there was something intact I could make use of.
Making my way in was simple enough, though I tried to pull apart the rusting metal armor as silently as I could manage. Which was to say, not at all. Hopefully, the trees could muffle the sound to an extent.
It took seconds to bend the armor in my bare hands, creating an entrance for me to slip through. Though I had to dismiss my rigging to do so, it was still a tight fit. After a short sensation of the grinding of metal against metal, I was inside.
Dang. This was cramped, even with me feeling like I'd lost a few inches. So this was the interior of a tank. Light trickled in through multiple holes, likely punched in by Abyssal shells. But it gave me enough light to see.
To say it was a mess would be an understatement. Nothing appeared to be intact, let alone salvageable. Water had run its course throughout the machine. Still, this made for a half-decent place to hide. Who would think they would find a ship inside a tank?
Maybe if it was a bit further away from the shoreline. Or thicker armor. Because no matter how cool it was, it was little more than a metal deathtrap.
A grumble from my stomach broke me out of my thoughts. Yes stomach, I hear you. I know you're hungry.
Maybe there was still something left behind that I could use. They had to keep some food in here, right? Where would they keep it? I began to fiddle around, attempting to grab anything that could be considered a cabinet, container, or the like.
Nothing. Yeah, I should have expected that. Maybe down here?
Nope. I'm pretty sure I just found the engine block. It looked fairly untouched, too.
… No. Absolutely not. It's an engine!
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It was a very tasty engine.
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Okay, yeah, that's a thing now. I could eat metal.
Wait? That's, that's just dumb. How does that even work? How does eating metal create scrap metal for my crew to use?
Know what? I'm done. None of this makes sense and I'm just going to have to adapt to the insanity. I'm just happy I could use the metal as a way to stave off hunger.
It took a few moments to pull my way from the armored vehicle, ignoring the grinding feeling of metal against metal. Should have created a bigger hole. With my armor the way it is right now, I shouldn't be trying to make things worse.
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I hate the jungle. I hate all the spiders, all the insects, all the humidity, and all this damn heat! But most of all, I hate these stupid vines! I violently threw another bunch of grasping, hanging plants from my rigging.
I'd like to put it away, but I had no idea how far Abyssals could get inland. Until I did, until I was certain I was safe, but all my guns were remaining out and ready. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I'd taken enough risks with charging that line of guns in the first place. Nothing more, until I got into contact with some friendlies.
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Movement. I froze, keeping myself shrouded in the trees. Abyssal? Wild animal? My guns lowered, preparing to fire.
Panting breath reached my ear. The patter of a pair of feet against the earth.
A child?
I blinked, watching a young girl push her way through the underbrush in panic, clearly fleeing from something.
Yeah, this confirmed it. Something screwy was going on here. What few villages I came across had been leveled years before now. I wouldn't put it past some humans to remain. We were a stubborn and adaptable lot, after all. But Abyssal's would likely attempt to scour the island for survivors to torment and kill.
Hot on the girl's heels was a nightmare black creature, bounding along the ground on four stubby legs that were not intended to traverse over land.
Alright, me and my big mouth. It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was going. Suddenly, the girl tripped over a root, falling to the ground in a heap.
My guns aimed, and fired, jungle erupting in flames and gunpowder. Nine shells tore through the Abyssal at near point-blank range, turning it into a smoldering wreck. With the immediate threat dispelled, I moved towards the child, slowly. She was scared, frightened. Any hostile movement could cause her to run off.
Taking care to make sure my armaments were facing away from her, I reached down slowly, as if to help her up. She blinked at my hand like it was something she hadn't seen before, as her eyes began to trace it back to the rest of my body.
Then her face contorted into something that could only be described as complete terror, and she started screaming again. Startled by the sudden noise, I lept backward, as she pointed her finger at me. She shouted something at me and a language I couldn't understand, before taking off in a run.
Before I could so much as blink, she was back in the underbrush. Great. There went talking this out like civilized human beings, violently pitched out the window. Still, if there was one destroyer, there could be more. Beating feet was probably far from a terrible idea.
Besides, I couldn't look that bad, right?
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I heard the sound of water flowing over stone before I saw it, but it was like music to my ears. Freshwater. No, I don't think you understand. It's freshwater! Sure, I couldn't purify it, but it was something! Plus, I would be able to see my reflection, maybe even clean myself! This was perfect! Now all I had to do was follow the noise! I hadn't heard any sign of the bombardment returning either!
Maybe things were looking up!
Then I fell into the river.
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It took longer for me to fish myself out of the water than I'd care to admit. I mean, I was an ocean-going vessel, but my rigging was barely able to keep me on the surface. My foot spent several minutes scraping the bottom, while the other was half submerged.
This better just be a problem with freshwater, because my crew was telling me I was still capable of sailing on the open ocean. Or just me falling and stumbling in.
My hair splattered against my face as I shook it, a desperate and futile attempt to dry it out. Why had my hair retained its ability to keep water? Damn, I was going to have to dry out everything! Just what I needed right now!
Well, if I'm here, I might as well see how bad I look. I mean it can't be, oh dear. I looked worse than I thought. Like dead women walking worse. No wonder that child ran away from me in fear.
The left side of my forehead was a combination of blood, burns, and scars. My shirt was torn apart, leaving my stomach exposed to the air. Something that might be impressive, if it wasn't for the fact my exposed skin was nothing more than an amalgamation of scorch marks. Arms and legs? Covered in scratches, light burns, and of course, the giant hole in my leg. Which was still raw.
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And that was after my dip in the bath eradicated half my weight in blood, dirt, grim, and dried salt. I'll continue downstream little ways. Maybe I'll find some shelter and a place to dry my clothes. Or better yet, a change of clothes.
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Caves. Bless them. Truly. They gave me a roof over my head, at least some measure of defense against aerial strikes and bombardments, and I wasn't exposed as much to the elements.
My clothing though. Lighting a fire was a bit risky. Even if I'd evaded detection thus far, drawing their eye in any meaningful capacity would be bad. I don't know if they were still going southward, or had stopped entirely. Which meant no fires, no smoke.
But I was creative. Sun-drying them on a rock, while not optimal, was perfectly functional, and it fit my needs. Still, I was probably going to have to replace them at some point. Especially the skirt. Right now it had more in common with Swiss cheese than it did an article of clothing.
There was another reason I chose this location. Not too far away, there as a large plantation of pineapples. And I mean, there were a lot of them. Overgrown. Just everywhere. A source of food, and shelter to boot. Here, I could camp out until Abyssal's give me a reason to leave or I get in contact with whoever might be trying to bail me out of this situation.
Not a bad place to hunker down.
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The sun had done its job perfectly. Almost too perfectly. I barely managed to get my freshly dried clothes into the cave before they got returned to soaking by a rainstorm.
Warm clothes weren't exactly what I'd like right about now, but I'd take it. Much better than the alternative.
…
I don't know how to properly put on a skirt.
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I hate clothing!
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Pineapples were weird. Just weird. They're called apples, which grow on trees, so pineapples should be the same, right? Reality is often disappointing like that.
I mean, I knew this. Saw a pineapple plantation in Hawaii. Still, it was just one of those incredibly dumb things that wouldn't just leave me alone at times.
Nor were these damn things easy to eat! The skin was a prickly mess that I did my best to avoid touching before this, so I had little idea on how to handle them. If I had a knife, then maybe.
Damnit, guys. Really? You've been holding this out on me? I tried to do my best-annoyed glare at my crew, only for them to chuckle at me. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when that gift is a knife. Doubt it's one from the mess if that's how it works. Time to get skinning.
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Juice filled my mouth as I dug in. Had I been this disgustingly picky in the past?
That feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder how.
No. Brain. Stop. Just because I can relax a bit, doesn't mean you can do something like this. I, I don't want to think about home right now.
A sharp crack made it's way to my ears, my guns turning around towards the noise, with me taking a defensive stance, bouncing on my feet. Abyssal? No, no, I'd be under fire already. Then again, there was the thing with the battleship having me stalked on the open ocean. Why wouldn't she attempt to do the same here?
It worked once before. All the more reason to try it again. Probably would have fallen for it, too.
However, I wasn't going to open fire right away. A child was running around, after all, and I wasn't going to just start blasting wildly. Sure, something could have happened to her, but I wasn't going to gamble. Not on someone's life.
Quietly, I moved towards the source of the noise. Inching forward, slowly, carefully. If it was an Abssyal, it would realize it had two options. Open fire or die. If it wasn't? Well, I was trying to keep myself as non-threatening as possible. A difficult task, with guns like mine, but I gave my best calming smile.
Slowly I pulled back on the underbrush, as a small child scuttled out of her hiding place, running her back into a tree. This is the first time I'd gotten a look at her. Her hair was a mess, a long tangled mass of black curls, with twigs and leaves sticking out of it. Cuts, bruises, and lacerations covered a concerning portion of her body. I'm not sure how the girl was able to move, let alone have not passed out from blood loss. Clothing? Little more than rags. And I thought I was lacking.
She continued to panic and scream, backing away from me. Whatever had happened to her, she'd had to have been through a lot. There was no doubt in my mind that Abyssal's were responsible for the torments she had faced. Even if I didn't understand how, or why.
I wanted to help her. She is a child, for Pete's sake.
"I'm not going to hurt you," I spoke, holding out my hand. Could she understand me? It might be a forlorn hope that she understood me, but I had nothing else. My track record with foreign languages was abysmal. If she couldn't understand English, then American Sign Language was going to be just as useless.
"You aren't an Abyssal?" her voice was faint, rasping from what I could only assume was exhaustion.
"No. I'm not," I spoke gently, trying to give my best impression of maternal instincts. I'm probably failing. Usually, I'm great around kids. But she isn't normal, is she? She's likely been through hell.
"What's your name? Abyssal's don't have names," she crossed her arms, glaring at me angrily. Well. Shit. I didn't have a name. I knew I was a cruiser, likely a light cruiser, of the USN. That meant I would have been named after a city. Alright, think! Which cities weren't used as names for ships during the Second World War? Kansas City? No, I'm pretty sure that was an unfinished heavy cruiser. St. Louis? No, she was built. I kept going through every major city I could think of.
Salt Lake? Taken. Helena? Nope. Cleveland? Surely you jest.
Wait, no. Fuck that. Sure, the US military could call me whatever they damn well pleased. But I wasn't confined to such a naming scheme, at least, not here. I could choose my name! One that honored my previous one. Because going by my birth name was going to raise questions I didn't want to ask myself.
"Please, call me Isabell."
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She had to admit. Corralling the Kanmusu here was not part of her original plan. A lone Kanmusu, while interesting, wasn't worth the resources spent, even if she could get information from it or use it as bait. While alone cruiser was odd, they functioned as scouts. No harm, no foul. Nothing too abnormal.
That was at first glance. She was weak. Extremely.
Not in a physical sense. The Kanmusu had sunk three of her light cruisers, twice that number of destroyers, and maimed a heavy cruiser to a point where she had been forced to scrap it. Sure, that was over a week, but for an unbuilt ship, it was quite impressive.
Yes, the Kanmusu had never been built. She trusted the reports from her subordinates but had confirmed it with her own eyes. What spiritual weight the Kanmusu had was barely there. Faint, hardly more than a shade. It shouldn't have been able to manifest at all. She couldn't exactly describe what happened either.
It was if the Kanmusu's spirit found an anchor. A way to latch onto the physical world, but means of connecting to another soul.
An interesting phenomenon. If she could observe it, monitor it, found out how such a thing worked, how it functioned? Control it? Remake it? The connection was getting stronger, and eventually, there would be no difference.
But instead of bringing back Kanmusu, instead, taint it with the Abyss? Hundreds of Abyssal's, raging against the world, at a world that never let them become built? All at her command?
She could only imagine the bloodshed that would be unleashed. It filled her heart with dark glee.
"Ma'am!" And with one word, her fantasies were interrupted. She scowled, forcing herself to remember her restraint. She got this far with her brain, by ignoring the simple instinct to slaughter any human or Kanmusu she came across. There was a reason SHE ruled these islands, rather than the Princess that had claimed them before.
"What is it?" she spoke, looking down at the small cruiser.
"One of the experiments has escaped," the aviation carrier scowled.
"You're going to have to be more specific than that," even with her instincts under tight control, wasting time was something she had little patience for.
"The one summoned by the slaves, Ma'am," she blinked. Oh, that one. After many failings to summon a Kanmusu in an attempt to corrupt them, she decided to subtly give the human slaves knowledge of how to perform the ritual.
It had succeeded, though the test subject was less than wanting. Didn't even get a destroyer out of it. All they got was a Patrol boat. Hardly armed or armored, they'd thrown her in with the rest of the slaves.
No matter. She'd either die from starvation or get killed by a patrol. Even if she meets the cruiser, what good would that do? Even if the Japanese and Americans came, there was nothing they could do.
She was so close.