Collective Ekoes / Chapter 04 (Text)

Even as she raced through the dark streets with Abel's blood dripping over her arms, moving flat-out toward the only medical supplies in a thousand klicks, she knew she was throwing her life away. Everything she’d worked for, everything she’d accomplished, gone.

She knew it, but she didn't stop. 

Someone must have shot the woman holding the detonator. Or she decided to go out on her own terms. Either way, she vaporized everyone in the hall not wearing mil-spec armor. All the dots on her visor were red. Even the Zhūquè hadn’t been enough to save Haokip. Berthold and Ackles were still alive, but showed wounded, their comms offline. 

Second and Third teams, out searching for the eko camp, immediately pinged for updates. They wouldn’t yet know what was happening. Cass ordered them to return to the site, tend the wounded, and hold the scene until the support ships arrived. 

They'd soon realize Cass had deserted. Grabbed her murderous brother and fled. And Ackles, who was hurt but looked to be moving, would waste no time taking charge. 

She’d abandoned her team. Betrayed them to protect her idiot brother. 

She was a traitor. 

And while maybe not as bad as these citizens who came to deliver themselves to the enemy, but also somehow worse. Because she was Strazhi. Supposed to be the best of the best. 

It’d make everyone look bad. 

There’d be a court-martial, public and brutal, the outcome predetermined. They’d strip her Faith score down to nothing, condemn her to Narod. 

But first they had to catch her. 

She could only pray Mama and Father wouldn’t suffer for her crimes. There’d be repercussions, that was unescapable. But she hoped her parents would understand why she’d done what she had. After all, they'd been the ones who taught her to protect her family above all else.

General al-Jarrah would come after her, no doubt about that. But she and Abel had a head start. The question was how to use it.

Cass glanced down at her brother, cradled against her armor. His eyes were heavy, his face contorted from the pain, but still he smirked when he noticed her looking down at him through her visor.

“That maybe got a little out of hand,” he said. It was the only apology she’d get. 

“Maybe a little,” she agreed. “But I’ve got you.”

“I know you do,” he said, and coughed. Hard, raspy bursts that spewed blood from his mouth.

A countdown had started in her head the instant Ackles had fired. Death was only minutes away. Abel's bowels were likely punctured, liver or kidneys damaged. But those wounds wouldn’t kill him immediately. Sepsis would come later. First priority was stopping the blood loss.  

She ran straight to the militia landing craft. Abel moaned as she set him down next to it. There wasn’t time to figure out the lock codes, so she ripped the rear hatch off, grabbed the medkit, lifted Abel’s shirt and sprayed his bloody abdomen and back with biogel, letting it set for just a second before wrapping him in compression bandages. Still, she didn’t think it would be enough. The gel was for flesh wounds, not massive internal bleeding. 

His face was pale and sweaty. He must have been in agony, but he didn’t complain. When she was done, she hit his shoulder with a painkiller hypo. His pupils dilated, and his mouth went slack.

“That’s all better,” he mumbled. “Thanks, Cassie.”

She patted his leg and took a moment to assess. 

They were stranded in a remote part of the planet, with no medical care, and a hostile force at their backs. 

She considered stuffing into the militia transport, but she couldn’t fly the thing wearing her armor. Besides, reinforcements were coming, militia and Strazhi both. The planet-hopper wouldn’t outrun anything for long. 

But even if she had a ship, what then?

Nowhere in the Collective was safe for them now. 

What had she done?

There was no escape. She should just surrender, hope Support arrived in time to save Abel—but her gut seized at the thought. 

Cass had an idea. A terrible idea, but what other choice was there? Terrible was better than surrender. Surrender meant death for them both.  

She recalled the drones, set the drop pods into a maintenance cycle, and locked the controls. The purr of the jungle went a notch quieter as the drones docked and the low standby hum of the pods shut down. The squad markers  went gray as the feed dropped. The pods would be out of commission for seventy-five minutes while they ran diagnostics. Ackles wouldn’t be able to restart them until it was done. She and Abel had until then to get out of range.

As her last act as a Strazhi Lieutenant, she deleted herself from the team feed. She wouldn’t know where they were, or what they were saying, but they wouldn’t be able to find her either, not until the pods came back online.

Then that was it. She'd officially deserted. 

Cass shook Abel by the shoulder and his head popped up like he’d been in the middle of a nap.

“I’m up,” he said, groggy. He blinked, then focused on Cass. “Cassie? What are you doing here?”

“I need your help,” Cass said, trying to keep the concern off her face. “Do you know where the eko camp is?”

Eko missionaries usually set up a base of operations. Shelter. Supplies. Medical equipment. Sometimes a landing craft.       

“Camp?” His eyes blurred through her. “Oh yeah. The bit-heads. We sure killed the hell out of those eko bastards.” He flashed her a lopsided smile.

“You sure did. But how about their camp? Did you clear it out too?”

“Nah,” he slurred, shifting in her arms. “Was empty. They were all in the town. Caught ‘em in the middle of their extraction. An’ we killed the hell out of them. Wait—” he started, trying to rise. “What ‘appened to the traitors we caught? Need to tag and bag 'em for transport.”

“They’re handled,” Cass said, fighting her waning patience. One of the teams would be coming to investigate why the network had gone down. They needed to move. “Did the ekoes have a ship?” 

This was their one chance to escape the planet. If the ekoes had a landing craft, maybe she could commandeer it. 

“Hidden.” He scoffed. “Under a tarp.” 

An instant of relief surged through her. “Great. And where was the camp again?”

Abel lay back, nodding. “South-southeast. ‘Bout five klicks. By the river. Wan’ me to show you?”

He tried once again to rise, winced, and fell back. 

“I sure do, but I need to carry you,” Cass said as she gathered him up in her arms. The armor barely felt his weight. 

Carrying Abel over the rough terrain—say ten minutes to cover five klicks. It would take time for the squad to organize, then search eighty square kilometers of thick jungle.

There was a chance. She could still keep them safe.

She just needed to find that camp.