her with a loyalty that she had never experienced
among humans, even humans who owed her their lives. They would throw away their
lives to protect one of their own without a second thought, and unlike humans
they never seemed to expect anything back in return. Alice was still young, but
had seen enough of the world and of humans to know that those qualities were in
incredibly short supply. People fought over power, over money, over control.
Biters just fought to protect their own.
In becoming a
Biter, it was strangely as if one became more human.
Alice's
thoughts were interrupted by Satish.
'Let's now find
out who our new American friends are, shall we?'
***
FOUR
'A jeep would
be nothing more than a magnet for air strikes. Why do you think I asked all my
men to disperse?'
Satish said the
words with a smile, but Alice had known him long enough to recognize the
underlying irritation. The two Americans had proved to be a study in contrasts.
The older man, who walked with a pronounced limp, was yet to utter a word. He
merely kept looking around him with wide eyes, and Alice found him staring at
her way too often for her comfort. Looking at his disheveled hair, torn vest
and vacant expression, she wondered if he had indeed lost his mind in some Red
Guard labor camp. The younger man, conversely, was all business. He had
immediately equipped himself with a bulletproof vest from one of the fallen Red
Guards, and armed himself with an assault rifle. To Alice’s amusement, he
seemed very vocal about his opinions – though Satish certainly seemed to find
nothing funny in his trying to impose his opinions.
'How fast can
we walk? Let's take one of the jeeps and get back to this city of yours.'
Satish took a
step closer to the American. He was a good six inches shorter than the blond,
lanky man he faced, but Alice's eyes, trained by years of experience, told her
that the American would not stand a chance. He clearly had little experience of
close combat, since he was holding his rifle in both hands. At such close
quarters, he would never even be able to bring the rifle up before Satish cut
his throat. She held out a restraining hand on Satish's shoulder and addressed
the American.
'My name is
Alice Gladwell. What's yours?'
'I am Captain
Vince Hudson, U.S Marine Corps. I flew with the White Knights squadron before
The Rising.'
He pointed to a
patch stuck on his jacket, showing an armored man on horseback, carrying what
appeared to be a spear or lance. Above the patch were the words 'White Knights'
and below it were inscribed the letters 'HMM-165'.
'Vince, I have
lived and fought in the Deadland all my life. Here are some things you should
know. The Reds control the skies. So traveling in a large group is suicide.
Traveling in large vehicles is suicide. And not listening to someone like
Satish is suicide. We risked our lives to save you, but if you would rather be
on your own, go ahead. I do not like to carry excess baggage.'
With that,
Alice shouldered her assault rifle and began walking off.
'Hey, wait.
Sorry if we started on the wrong foot. Being chased by Red Guards for a week
has a way of putting you on edge.'
They took
refuge in a nearby clump of trees. Satish had already radioed his men to give
him advance warning of any incoming Red Guards, on land or by air. For close to
an hour they lay flat against the ground, waiting for the telltale buzzing
sound that would announce the arrival of an attack helicopter.
Finally Satish
whispered, 'Looks like they've bled enough for a day. Alice, it'll be dark
soon; let's get into the woods and hear what Vince and his friend have to say.'
When they were
in the forest, Satish passed around a meager meal of biscuits, which the two
Americans wolfed down hungrily.
Alice found the
old man staring at her, and finally she turned to look at him. That was when he
spoke his first words.
'You are for
real. So there is hope after all.'
'Excuse me?'
The old man
smiled,
among humans, even humans who owed her their lives. They would throw away their
lives to protect one of their own without a second thought, and unlike humans
they never seemed to expect anything back in return. Alice was still young, but
had seen enough of the world and of humans to know that those qualities were in
incredibly short supply. People fought over power, over money, over control.
Biters just fought to protect their own.
In becoming a
Biter, it was strangely as if one became more human.
Alice's
thoughts were interrupted by Satish.
'Let's now find
out who our new American friends are, shall we?'
***
FOUR
'A jeep would
be nothing more than a magnet for air strikes. Why do you think I asked all my
men to disperse?'
Satish said the
words with a smile, but Alice had known him long enough to recognize the
underlying irritation. The two Americans had proved to be a study in contrasts.
The older man, who walked with a pronounced limp, was yet to utter a word. He
merely kept looking around him with wide eyes, and Alice found him staring at
her way too often for her comfort. Looking at his disheveled hair, torn vest
and vacant expression, she wondered if he had indeed lost his mind in some Red
Guard labor camp. The younger man, conversely, was all business. He had
immediately equipped himself with a bulletproof vest from one of the fallen Red
Guards, and armed himself with an assault rifle. To Alice’s amusement, he
seemed very vocal about his opinions – though Satish certainly seemed to find
nothing funny in his trying to impose his opinions.
'How fast can
we walk? Let's take one of the jeeps and get back to this city of yours.'
Satish took a
step closer to the American. He was a good six inches shorter than the blond,
lanky man he faced, but Alice's eyes, trained by years of experience, told her
that the American would not stand a chance. He clearly had little experience of
close combat, since he was holding his rifle in both hands. At such close
quarters, he would never even be able to bring the rifle up before Satish cut
his throat. She held out a restraining hand on Satish's shoulder and addressed
the American.
'My name is
Alice Gladwell. What's yours?'
'I am Captain
Vince Hudson, U.S Marine Corps. I flew with the White Knights squadron before
The Rising.'
He pointed to a
patch stuck on his jacket, showing an armored man on horseback, carrying what
appeared to be a spear or lance. Above the patch were the words 'White Knights'
and below it were inscribed the letters 'HMM-165'.
'Vince, I have
lived and fought in the Deadland all my life. Here are some things you should
know. The Reds control the skies. So traveling in a large group is suicide.
Traveling in large vehicles is suicide. And not listening to someone like
Satish is suicide. We risked our lives to save you, but if you would rather be
on your own, go ahead. I do not like to carry excess baggage.'
With that,
Alice shouldered her assault rifle and began walking off.
'Hey, wait.
Sorry if we started on the wrong foot. Being chased by Red Guards for a week
has a way of putting you on edge.'
They took
refuge in a nearby clump of trees. Satish had already radioed his men to give
him advance warning of any incoming Red Guards, on land or by air. For close to
an hour they lay flat against the ground, waiting for the telltale buzzing
sound that would announce the arrival of an attack helicopter.
Finally Satish
whispered, 'Looks like they've bled enough for a day. Alice, it'll be dark
soon; let's get into the woods and hear what Vince and his friend have to say.'
When they were
in the forest, Satish passed around a meager meal of biscuits, which the two
Americans wolfed down hungrily.
Alice found the
old man staring at her, and finally she turned to look at him. That was when he
spoke his first words.
'You are for
real. So there is hope after all.'
'Excuse me?'
The old man
smiled,
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