Wiped by Nicola Claire

and scratched and bit and spat, torches flashed on and we could see.
    Ten, maybe twelve, small children sat on the ground, their dirt smeared tanned skin blending into the shadows, their dark almond shaped eyes staring up disgruntled out of sneering faces. Crooked teeth and rotten breath added to the imagery.
    So small. So neglected. And, other than their skin tone, so different from the men who’d attacked us upon landing.
    And then a Cardinal hauled two adult sized bodies forward, both with their hands raised in surrender and amused smirks gracing their faces.
    “What the…?” Cardinal Beck exclaimed. “Were you following us?” he then demanded.
    Trent’s eyes found me. We stared at each other, neither uttering a sound. The stand-off interrupted by Alan.
    “Ungrateful prick,” he grunted.
    “Ungrateful?” Beck challenged. “You could have ruined the plan.”
    “Oh, you had a plan?” Alan said, deadpan. “Thought you were blindly going into a dark hole without any consideration to your safety.” He paused. “Or Lena’s.”
    Ah, so he was going to take that path, was he?
    “Why are you here, Trent?” I said softly, before the Cardinal blew his stack.
    Trent let out a small huff of breath, shrugged out of the shoulder hold of the Cardinal who’d been detaining him, and took a step forward. Laser guns whirred to life all around me. The children flinched, but watched on with avid interest. Trent looked at me and raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, face impassive.
    I just sighed.
    “Stand down,” I ordered. The laser wielding Cardinals didn’t move. “For crying out loud, he’s one of us!” Nothing. “Beck,” I growled.
    “Stand down,” he murmured, but his stance said he was doing no such thing.
    “Trent?” I said encouragingly. He’d better have a damn good reason for being here. He’d dogged my steps enough lately. Turning up and throwing his rebel leader weight around right now would be the final straw.
    I wasn’t sure how much heartache my body could take.
    “Lena,” he said, my name a soft whisper on his lips. It was just a name, but the way he said it made it so much more. As though he still adored it. As though he was in awe of it. As though, merely voicing it, meant everything.
    I felt trapped by his heated gaze. A trap I had never wanted to get out of.
    “I’ve been a jerk,” he said, making me narrow my eyes in confusion. The Cardinals didn’t exactly shuffle uncomfortably on their feet - they were too well trained for that - but if a blink of their eyes could convey discomfort, then theirs did in that moment. Call it what you will, male solidarity, manly pride, but none of them wanted to be in Trent’s shoes, right then.
    I almost snorted. But laughing at Trent would only make things worse. And looking at him now, I realised I didn’t want things to get worse. I wanted him back. In my corner. On my side.
    I’d missed him. It seemed ridiculous somehow. But there it was.
    “Not just yesterday,” Trent added, meaning the ambush from hell when we’d landed. “But for the past few weeks. And here’s the thing, I thought I was taking care of you. I guess my compass is a little off, huh?” He thrust his hands in his jeans pockets and shrugged his shoulders, looking a little lost.
    I almost caved. I almost took the few short steps needed to reach him. And then my eyes caught the neutral expression on Alan’s face. Ordinarily Alan would be disturbed by Trent’s bare knuckles confession. Ordinarily he’d snort or shake his head and stare off into space, as if watching this train wreck unfold was too absurd to even contemplate. But he wasn’t doing any of that.
    He was standing there patiently waiting for the moment to pass. No shock on his hard face. No disgust in the curve of his lips. Nothing.
    My eyes came back to Trent; he’d seen my assessment. He wasn’t looking so chagrinned now, was he? No, he looked ready to do battle.
    I started to shake my head