Wind howled and sand lashed at Rebecca’s skin, stinging her eyes and sucking the moisture from her mouth. The body of the helicopter had stayed mostly intact but the door had busted open. he rest had been torn to shreds, pieces of shrapnel and wreckage scattered across the sand, some of them burning, glowing in the thick red cloud. The cracked screen of her phone flickered and spasmed, useless. Rebecca unbuckled her seatbelt and prodded her collarbone, which flared with pain, probably broken. She crawled to the pilot and shook his shoulder, then noticed the shard of metal protruding from his neck, his body limp and covered in blood. She left him.
Her own body screamed as she tumbled out of the helicopter. She wrapped her scarf around her mouth and nose but it barely helped against the sand, and she couldn’t see more than two meters in front of her. She kept her head low and picked a direction, hoping to find some shelter in the seemingly endless void.
She tripped on a rock and fell, scraping skin from her hands, then rolled onto her good shoulder and contemplated whether or not to just stay there and wait out the storm. She wondered if she’d suffocate, or go blind. The sand whipped like fire on her skin.
Muffled voices penetrated the wall of sand, and Rebecca saw the figure of an armed operative standing almost right on top of her. She panicked but couldn’t move. She was invisible in the storm. The operative had his back to her, moving towards the crash site, his weapon primed for combat. Rebecca held her left arm over her chest. Every movement shot rods of pain through her upper body. She bit her tongue to keep from screaming, sandy tears caked her cheeks. She scurried away from the soldier and briefly heard someone say, ‘She couldn’t have gotten far. Fan out and find her.’
Bec clambered to her feet and kept moving, she had to keep moving, staying as low as she could and trying not to stumble. There were two more voices up ahead and Bec saw these figures approaching like heavily-armed wraiths. She looked around but there was nothing for her to hide behind, not that she could see. All she had was a small dried-up shrub, and she went for it, diving to the ground, half burying herself in sand. She pulled the shrub over her and stayed as flat and still as she could. The voices grew louder and she felt their eyes staring at her. She refused to move. The boot stomped down right next to her head, but it moved slowly, and without pause it continued on. Bec looked up and watched the two soldiers disappear back into the storm, somewhere towards the wreckage.
The storm only became more ferocious, the wind so strong that Rebecca could barely walk straight, and pieces of debris flew like missiles along the ground. Bec stumbled until the seconds dragged into minutes, and the minutes seemed to drag into hours. She was getting nowhere like this, and the soldiers were always nearby, always searching. Until at last Rebecca stumbled into the enemy’s line of sight. It was only a matter of time. He saw her – she assumed he saw her – right before she disappeared behind a large rock. It was easy to see ghosts in a storm like this. She prayed he’d let it be.
She was wrong.
‘Command, I have a potential fix on the target,’ he reported, his voice barely audible under the howling wind. ‘Moving to investigate.’
Rebecca groped around for a large piece of wood, almost too heavy to swing, and waited behind the rock. The handgun appeared first. Rebecca leaned out and knocked the weapon away, into the sand. She followed up by trying to smash the soldier over the head but he caught the log and heaved it from her grip, throwing it aside. He slapped her, a strong thud, a painful sting, and she fell back. The soldier pulled a combat knife from his belt and moved in for the killing blow.
Someone charged through the red void and tackled Bec’s assailant. Bec couldn’t believe, it was Kelly. Rebecca didn’t know where she came from but she heard the force of the impact as the captain drove the soldier into the ground. She pinned his knife hand and punched him twice in the face before he kneed her in the stomach and threw her off. The captain weaved her way behind him and held him in a grapple, struggling for the knife then forcing it towards his chest. The solider threw his head back and busted her nose with a grisly spurt of blood. He tried to stand but Kelly kicked out his knee and forced him back down. Then she was on top of him. They wrestled again for the knife and Kelly gained control, forcing the blade closer and closer to his torso. She raised her right hand and punched the handle. A jolt, and the blade sank into the soldier’s chest. She hit it again and again, until blood gurgled up from his throat and his struggling slowly, gradually, diminished.
The captain stood up from the man’s corpse, her face oddly calm and collected even with dark blood trickling from her nose. She walked over to Rebecca.
Bec sat up and let relief wash away the shock that currently infected her body.
‘Holy Christ it’s good to see your face,’ she said. ‘I thought you all died. Sato—’
Before she could finish, a voice crackled through the radio on Kelly’s shoulder.
‘Captain Jade, status report. Have you captured Rebecca Marshall?’
At first Bec thought she misheard, that the words were muffled by the storm, but then she realised the cold fury in Kelly Jade’s eyes.
She took a step back.
They know.
‘Kelly, I can explain.’
The captain drew her pistol, a single sleek movement in the blink of an eye, a blow worse than any physical pain. Tears welled in Rebecca’s eyes. Her entire body stood frozen in the sights of the captain’s gun.
‘I’ve been ordered to bring you in,’ Kelly said, her voice sounded different with a broken nose. Blood smeared over her lips. ‘Dead or alive.’
Rebecca took another step back and the captain tightened her grip on the gun and focused her aim.
‘Don’t fucking move!’
‘Please Kelly!’ Bec resorted to pleading. What else could she do – the woman she loved threatened to shoot her. ‘Kelly, it’s me. It’s Bec.’
‘Captain Jade, status report,’ said the voice on the radio.
They both stood as motionless as the red storm whipped at their hair and clothes. The captain’s eyes were cold, Rebecca’s filled with heart-break. Then, a change came over Kelly. Something warm and familiar flowed back into her eyes, but also terror, her expression leaning towards apologetic. She lowered the pistol and clicked her radio.
‘Negative, sir. She escaped.’
‘Understood. Return to the LZ for evac. Over.’
Kelly turned to Bec, tossed her something – a phone – and said, ‘Go’. The emotion had returned to her voice. She glanced longingly at Rebecca before she turned away, and disappeared into the storm, leaving Rebecca alone once more.
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