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~Moderato-Mezzo Forte~ "The mere shock of vertigo can kill a man." ~Adams * * * When a building is destroyed, it can take weeks or months to rebuild it. When a life is destroyed, it takes years. Sometimes it is never completely rebuilt. The survivors had a lot of rebuilding to do. All in all, there were six creatures that had physically made it through the horror that was beyond tragedy. Henderson DeWitt was a fruit bat who had served as a team leader on the Vulpine squadron, while Cynthia Bailarin was a small, jumpy margay. She didn't have the leadership qualities to serve as anything but a private, so a lowly team associate she had remained even through her seven years on the army. She had been respected and cherished by nobody except her teammates. But they were gone now. It wasn't going to be easy, but somewhere in the backs of their minds there lurked a perverse determination to live. Aurelia became the unofficial leader once again simply because she knew the others needed her; that was one of many realisations that had slapped her in the face over the past two days, and now that she knew their truth she was determined not to make the same mistakes twice. Of course the idea that they could salvage jets to fly themselves off that wreck was absurd. Every jet had been damaged beyond repair, and even if they hadn't, the group did not have the tools or the knowledge to fix them. The COMM links could not relay even a short distance signal, so they could not call for help. "The first thing to do is make sure we don't starve," Aurelia had informed the ragged band. "Miranda, Isabel, were there any stores of food that may be undamaged?" "There was a vault in the sub-basement that was lined with protective metals," Miranda said distantly. "Everything in there should be all right." "Was there anything in there besides food?" Aurelia queried, trying to hide her eagerness. "Emergency transmitters? Anything?" Miranda shut her eyes. "They can only send a signal 20 km. And they hadn't been checked in several months, so the batteries are probably dead. But there was enough food to sustain the base for a month." "Then that's enough food to sustain this group for at least a year," Aurelia concluded, partially disappointed but suitably cheered. "We'll start working on that immediately." "Working on what?" Henderson asked, his eyes fixed on the floor. "We should just go and get it." Aurelia blinked. "Yes. Well. Let's go then." The six animals had taken up unofficial residence in the storage hall, now bleakly devoid of any useable supplies. Now they climbed to their feet and made their way down through the winding corridors until Miranda stopped them and punched in the access code. "You have to press two buttons at the same time," she explained quietly. "First one and four, then two and three, then five and three." The heavy metal door creaked open and they found themselves staring down a storehouse of canned foods. A few of them also noted a large drink cabinet for future reference. In case any of us need to get plastered, Aurelia thought dully. They munched on some dried fruits and gathered baskets of other food to take up with them for later that day. Aurelia found several bottles of water and gave six to each animal, but left the alcohol where it was. I'll throw it out tomorrow, she decided. That's not the kind of thing we're going to be needing. They straggled back up to the storage hall, also carrying bedrolls they had found. It was very strange. The base itself appeared entirely burned out; the tile floor was charred, as were the walls and roof. The site of six bedrolls and baskets of food lying on the bare floor seemed wrong. The six living creatures near them seemed even more wrong; that is, except for the zebu. There was an aura about her that made her seem in place among the death, yet somehow also matching the life. Exhausted, Aurelia allowed herself to fall asleep. * * *
birds of a feather * * * "What business do you think you have with us, anyway?!" "Shut UP, Lindsay!" "Protecting your little friend, Henderson? You want to join Venom's cause, is that it? You're going to help her destroy Corneria, is that it?! Let me say what needs to be said!!" Aurelia drifted in and out of sleep to the sound of these words. Feeling tired in more ways than one, she wanted to pretend she didn't hear, but she knew she couldn't do that. She turned over silently, observing. Miranda was hunched over on a stool and had her back to everyone, glaring intently out the window. Aurelia thought she could see tears. The stoat shifted her gaze to Isabel. Shuddering, she shifted her gaze away from Isabel. Lindsay was clutching a wooden crate as if it were a precious object and looking slightly crazed, Henderson was looking tired and angry, and Cynthia appeared to be hiding in her bedroll. Slight tremors every few seconds indicated that the margay was crying. "GET OUT OF HERE!" Lindsay shrieked. "You don't belong here! You belong with the people you killed! You killed them! And do you know what?? I'm GLAD you killed the Venomians, even though they all deserved a worse death than you gave them! But do you know what else? None of them were as evil as you, bitch. You deserve to die in a way worse than they died, because you betrayed those Hellspawn! Betrayal is WORSE than hatred, it's WORSE than being simply evil! I think that right now there is no one in the whole universe worse than you. You wanted them dead, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?!" Miranda did not say anything, but silently gave a shuddering gasp. Henderson took on a warning tone. "Lindsay, I swear if you do not shut up this instant, I'll..." "You'll what?! You'll let Miranda kill me just like she killed everyone else? Like she probably wants to kill us all right now?! HUH? Is that what you'll--" "LINDSAY!" Aurelia shouted. Lindsay's mouth froze in an 'o' of surprise mid-sentence. The marmot pivoted to stare at Aurelia as if she were part of a freak show. "That's enough, Frawley," Aurelia almost spat. "Leave Miranda alone." Looking like a whipped dog, Lindsay slunk off to a corner, stopping briefly next to Miranda. "Go to hell," she hissed. "Don't worry," the gecko muttered, almost inaudibly. "I will." * * * The cold fingers of night gripped the base in its icy embrace, bathing the dismal scene in merciful darkness. For the others it meant a brief solace from having to face the day. For Miranda it only meant a plunge back into deepening horror. As they hid themselves in their bedrolls, Cynthia meekly asked Aurelia if she might have the bottle of sleeping pills they had found in the vault. "I get insomnia," she explained. "Sure," Aurelia answered wearily. "Here you go." Miranda waited noiselessly as she waited for the other five to doze off. When she was sure they were all asleep, the lizard slipped out of her bedroll and crept silently through the dead corridors to the sub-basement vault. It was cold there, cold in a dry and rotting way. Miranda walked as if she were not controlling her actions. She made her way to the corner and slumped against the wall, hugging her knees tightly. Life was not good. No, not life-- she would not call the thing she had "life" anymore. It was only existence. Suddenly, a soft voice floated out of the blackness. "So," it murmured. "You're here, too." Miranda's head jerked upright, her eyes wide. "Olivia?!" The room suddenly seemed lighter. Olivia, a tall, slender arctic wolf, stood in the centre of the room in a flowing white gown. The dress and her white fur seemed to glow with a radiance of their own. Olivia nodded then, and she looked so happy, comforting, loyal. "Yes, it's me," she responded, smiling. "We're all here." Miranda looked around, her vision obscured by tears of joy. "In the basement?" "No," Olivia answered with a laugh that was like a crystalline bell. "No, not in the basement." "What do you mean, then?" "Not in the basement," Olivia repeated. "Not in the basement." Then others stepped into the light emanating from Olivia. They, too, seemed to be shining. There was Simone, and Geoffrey, and Victor, and Iris, and James, and... All smiled warmly. Olivia spoke again. "Not in the basement," she articulated, and each word was like the rap of a hammer on solid metal. "In Hell." Then their faces contorted into nightmare visions of hatred, sorrow, and spite. They lunged forward and tried to reach her with clawing fingers, swiping and snatching. Miranda pushed herself as far back into the wall as she could, sobbing uncontrollably out of terror, at the lowest point she had yet delved down to. Their hands had become talons, and now she could see that their lovely white clothing was in tatters and stained with blood. Their eyes were hollow and empty. "You did this to us!" Olivia screeched, and her voice was like fingernails raking across a chalkboard. "You're the one who made us this! It's your fault!" "I know," Miranda shrieked, still trying to burrow into the wall, her eyes bloodshot. "I'm sorry!" "Sorry isn't good enough," they howled. "You put us in HELL!" "I'm sorry!" Miranda screamed. "I'm sorry!" Olivia put her head back and laughed, a reviling sound. "Hell!" she squawked. "Well, we've come to return the favor! You sent us to Hell, so we're here to take you back with us! And we'll be together, together forever," Olivia leaned forward. Her eyes, which had seemed to be empty, now shone with a demonic red fire. Her fur was curling up and splitting, as if it were being burned. The expression on her face was mocking and cruel. "TOGETHER!" Miranda could only cry helplessly, just as an infant does when it is brought out into the cold, brutal world that seems to thirsts for its blood. But deep inside, the glass core of her heart was slowly encasing itself in iron. * * *
It breaks my heart to say goodbye * * * It was midnight, and Aurelia was up. She had fallen asleep in her bedroll at nightfall and awakened just a few minutes prior, taking the opportunity to go outside and look at the moon. One step out of the base reminded her that her work was far from over. The stoat cried soundless tears as she beheld the grim field, still littered with the wreckage of aircraft whose silent occupants would never fly again. When morning came they would have to do something about it. Aurelia buried her face in her hands. She felt so efficient, so responsible, so orderly. And she felt like a louse for it. It just.... wasn't fair. She hadn't asked for this. Nobody had ever asked for this. But someone has to get it, she reminded herself bitterly. She hated having the responsibility shoved on her for the whole group. I'm hurting as much as they are, she said vehemently to herself. Why am I the one who has to look out for their needs? Nobody's caring enough to look after mine. She sighed again, a deep, heavy, shuddering sigh. It wasn't their fault. She might be the only one with the strength to care for everyone. And none of them were better qualified to take care of a group than she was. She'd been in command of an entire squadron. A squadron that's now been reduced to four miserable beasts, she thought, startling herself with her wretchedness. Aurelia sank to a sitting position on the ground, combing her fingers through the dry grey soil. Her thoughts unwittingly turned away from everything they should logically be of and settled themselves on an image of Alexander. The stoat's eyelids slid closed and she sighed. Would she ever even see him again? If she ever did get back to Corneria-- which seemed fairly unlikely-- it would probably be months, maybe years. Would he wait for her all that time? She certainly wouldn't blame him if he didn't. After all, when the squadrons didn't return, she'd be presumed dead along with everyone else. Any search parties would see the wreckage and there'd be no reason to assume that anybody had been left alive. And why would anybody deny themselves happiness on account of a dead beast? No, she knew that if she really were dead, she wouldn't want Alexander to be alone and miserable. Still... Everything's so jumbled and confused, Aurelia thought, her eyes welling up with yet another fresh batch of tears. She stretched out along the ground and inhaled its sweet, earthy aroma. The soothing hands of sleep took up her soul once again and carried her into an all too temporary world of peace.
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