Out of the Frying Pan

[Abandoned Airfield, Jackson Plains, the Badlands]

The nomads were hard at work, finishing their preparations and careful of how much noise they made. By all rights, the airfield was supposed to have been abandoned for years, so any signs of life creeping about were sure to raise alarms if they got sloppy.

Jackson had been pouring over a physical map of the area for the last hour, planning and marking positions for everyone to hold once the shit hit the fan. The broad strokes of their plan involved short-range EMP mines on a proximity trigger as the convoy passed by the airfield along Sage Gulch Road. This far off the main roads, nobody was coming to sniff around, which played in their favor. They also had the advantage of terrain, small plateaus lining either side of the road with clear downward vantages. Anyone who wasn't immediately incapacitated from the EMP could be picked off by snipers in short order. If the situation turned out worse than expected... and it always did... Addie was on standby with Sheila to provide overhead cover. Despite her insistence that her lovely lady was in fact not a warbird, the recently door-mounted chain gun said otherwise.

There wasn't much else to be done for the moment, and Jackson needed some air. He took a few moments to step away, hiding out behind the main hangar of the airfield as he hunched down and lit a fresh cigarette. Addie remained by his side as they shared a smoke, reviewing all the small bits and pieces, and otherwise trying not to get distracted by one another. Times like these, their feelings for each other had a tendency to muddy the waters in the worst ways, but they both knew well enough to not let emotion get in the way.

The sun was setting, the light of day still hanging on the horizon. The air was cooling overhead as the night crept in. Despite his best efforts, Jackson couldn't help but admire Addie's eyes glowing against the twilight as she looked out over the desolate landscape. Even when focused and in her element... especially when focused and in her element... her hardened edge was the sexiest thing about her.

Situations like these were hardly ever predictable no matter how many angles or possibilities were covered and considered. Jackson was a master tactician, but even he was caught in the open from time to time. His eyes flashed blue as his jaw clenched and he swore under his breath. Addie looked at him with a concern as she asked, "What's naggin' at ya, Jax...?"

"God damnit, I swear 'at child'll be the death o' me...", he said to no one in particular as he stamped his butt in the sand and stood up, grabbing his rifle and stepping away as his voice trailed off, "...I'll be no more 'an fifteen minutes... hold it down for me, cowgirl..."

Addie bit her bottom lip and smiled wide from ear to ear as she watched the faithful father disappear over the berm, primed and ready to tear some teenage ass with all the love he could muster.

--

The rover rolled to a gentle crawl as Jayce down-shifted, careful to not let the engine bellow too loud this far out in the middle of nowhere. She pulled off the road to a long-since abandoned fuel station, the very walls of the structure teetering on collapse as its innards had likely been exposed to the elements for at least the last two decades. Piles of sand and debris had collected against the outside of the dilapidated structure, the wind howling through the gaping holes and giving an overall haunting presence.

Just as soon as they were parked behind the structure and out of sight from the road, Jayce killed the ignition, enjoying the brief peace and quiet as she tried to settle her brain rattling inside her skull from the bumpy ride. The long stretches of highway south of the City were poorly maintained, entire patches of asphalt and concrete altogether missing or pockmarked with holes. She knew the old ride had seen worse at her father's hands, but she still felt bad wondering how much damage she might have done to the drivetrain.

She shook her head and focused as she pulled herself free from the driver's seat and stretched her back, Nel hopping out of the passenger's side and trying to keep her head on straight. She looked almost sick to her stomach as she wavered back toward the bed of the car. Jayce joined within a few seconds, careful to speak softly as she grabbed the duffel bag, "We're on foot from here... have'ta stay off the road and out'a sight in case the convoy comes early..."

"And then what?!", Jackson barked as he stepped around the corner of the building into view. Without missing a beat, Jayce dropped the bag, slamming her hand against the bed as she shouted, "FUCK!!!"

The old man had a wry and disappointed smirk on his face as he walked toward them both. Nel took a step back, wide-eyed and terrified of the whole situation and not entirely sure what to expect. After a prolonged awkward silence while Jayce tried to control her ragged breathing, she looked up and asked, "H-How'd ya kno—"

"I s'pose I ought'a feel insulted, though I'm not sure what'at...", Jackson joked as he leaned against the car with his arm spread over the roof, "...that I don't know my own daughter well 'nough to know she'd refuse to sit on the sidelines... or 'at she thinks I didn't have this ol' Colby chipped straight'a my head jus' soon 's she was old 'nough to drive..."

Jayce rolled her eyes with a clenched jaw as she spat through gritted teeth, "Trus' me that much, do ya...?"

"Only 'bout as much 's one can trust a teenager...", Jackson laughed as he leaned in to catch her line of sight, "...an' 'specially one o' my own makin'..."

They locked eyes for a moment, the same smirk creeping on Jayce's face although she tried to hide it. Nel took a deep breath and sighed with relief... at least he was in mostly good spirits about all of it.

"We can talk 'bout obeyin' your ol' man later...", Jackson jokingly chastised her further as he grabbed the duffel bag off the ground, "...as long's you're here, may's well put ya to work. C'mon... you too, li'l albatross..."

--

Bison leaned over a large table with the same map spread out that Jackson was marking up earlier, pointing and discussing a few last-minute details with Panam and Mitch. His attention was drawn away by Doc Strong's booming voice, "Ah hell... I knew it."

They both looked up , along with everyone else, at Jackson carrying a heavy duffel bag over his shoulder with two young girls following no more than a few paces behind.

Bison laughed, handing a worn twenty-eddie bill to Strong as he said, "When you know, you know. Good call, brother..."

"I'll hang onto it for ya...", Strong chuckled as he pocketed the scratch and met Jackson halfway. The old man wasn't really in the mood, but he shrugged his shoulders and said, "What'd ya expect...?"

Strong shook his head and crossed Jackson's path as Mitch stood with crossed arms and a smirk. Another younger nomad with more balls than brains called out, "What are we, a fuckin' daycare now?!"

Jackson's eyes narrowed as he cut to the gonk standing with his hands on his hips like he actually had something worthwhile to offer. He stupidly followed up, "This ain't no place for kids... get 'em out of here!"

Jackson walked the few paces to close the gap with his new best friend as he leaned in and whispered firmly, "If ya know what's good for ya, son... you'll keep that mouth shut for the rest of the night."

The kid's blood ran cold as his eyes widened and he stepped back. Before Jackson could blink, he was gone as Mitch stepped forward in his place, "He's an idiot... but... can they fight?"

"Well, one o' them's my daughter...", Jackson said matter-of-factly while Mitch tried not to laugh, "And the other used to be one o' them... so jus' be glad they's on our side, yeah...?"

Mitch shrugged his eyebrows and nodded with a pat to Jackson's shoulder, suddenly a little embarrassed at having questioned his old choom. Thankfully for him, the embarrassment was short-lived as Panam cut in, "We've got movement, people... this is it!"

All of the nomads scurried like roaches around the inside of the building as they made their final preparations and grabbed iron. Jackson and Bison joined Panam, issuing orders and directions for who did what, where, and when. Amid the building tension, Jayce leaned in and asked, "Pa... what do we do...?"

"You're never more 'an six feet away from me...", Jackson ordered, his voice and tone completely unfamiliar to her as he was in a whole other world now, "...is 'at clear?"

Jayce was taken aback by the harshness of his attitude, but she firmed herself and nodded, "Yes sir!"

He smirked, giving his kid a side-eye and a gentle fist-bump against her shoulder, "You'll both be a'ight... jus' keep your heads down an' eyes open."

"Far side overwatch is in position and ready!", Panam shouted, "Once we're in place, light and noise discipline. No talking, no smoking, and no playing grab-ass!"

Her eyes cut to Bison as she smirked. He threw his hands up and snapped back, "Hey, I'm on overwatch with Addie, so... what the fuck, man?!"

Panam bared her teeth with a full smile and a wink as she turned to join her fellow nomads leaving the building. Jackson and Doc Strong both checked their weapons as they looked to one another and the crew, all giving smiles and nods of affirmation. They had all been through the shit together before, but it never hurt to be silently reminded that they had each other's backs, especially now that Jayce and Nel were wrapped up in it.

Outside, the numerous Aldecaldos moved across the sand, keeping low and out of sight. Jackson followed behind, making his way up to the plateau with Doc Strong forming the rear and watching their backs. There was already enough uncertainty for all that could go wrong, and having both of the crew's young girls in tow wasn't doing their collective anxiety any favors. For sure, Jackson had been in shittier situations, but none of them had involved someone he loved. He silently prayed to himself and whoever might be listening for their protection.

As they knelt down behind cover, he directed both the girls to take their positions next to him... never more than six feet away. Strong saw the writing on the wall from the look on Jackson's face, offering his old choom a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Jackson smiled, though he kept his eyes on the road. The last twilight of the setting sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, which meant their targets would arrive at any moment. He took a second to check his rifle one last time, laughing to himself as Jayce dutifully followed suit. She was visibly trembling, but he didn't detect fear. More likely, she was running thick with adrenaline. She was ready to prove herself... ready to throw down and prove to her old man that she didn't need to be coddled. And despite his trepidation at her even being here, he couldn't have been prouder in that moment.

Their focus was drawn to a light rumble in the shifting sands below. The ground was shaking, the dull roll of thunder approaching. The trucks were just around the corner and out of view. Everyone readied themselves as Panam issued the last orders quietly before cutting off all communication. Not to say Raffen were tech experts by any means, but an open channel was an easy tell for an ambush.

Their only option was to sit and wait... and hope the plan worked. Although Jackson couldn't do jack-shit about it at this point, he still scanned the area below, ensuring the pulse mines were armed and positioned properly. Not that he didn't trust his nomad compatriots, but a past life growing up on a ranch had taught him a valuable lesson... measure twice, cut once.

Everyone and everything were in their proper places. There was some comfort to be had in that, if not for the dark shapes that were approaching. Even as the last light of the day dwindled into dark, the silhouettes of three vehicles stood out against the sand, the roars of their engines echoing. Jackson could hear everyone counting off in their own heads... only another hundred meters... ninety, eighty, seventy...

The convoy was smart enough to travel with no running lights. Even this far out in the badlands, they were still cautious... too cautious. They knew they were being watched, judging by the deceleration of the lead truck. The two trailing vehicles followed suit, clutches slipping and gears grinding as they slowed to a stop... and they were still thirty meters short of tripping the pulse mines.

If push came to shove, there was always manual detonation, but no sense in giving up their position just yet. For now, they would wait, and watch. For almost an entire minute, there was no movement from any of the vehicles. The nomads waited in anticipation, the hairs standing up on the backs of their necks. Finally, the smaller of the three trucks pulled off the road and parked, the rear hatch opening as at least a dozen bodies exited. Whatever Jackson expected, these weren't Raffen Shiv. Their bodies were painted white, their faces marked up with black to resemble skulls. They looked like the walking dead, haunting the desert with red eyes glowing in the dark. A few of the group had visible implants, and they all moved awkwardly, almost as if walking on two feet was entirely foreign to them.

They were careful to keep their distance from each other, spreading out to form a perimeter around the convoy as they surveyed the situation. A few of them sniffed the air before calling back to the other trucks. As if they were tracking a scent, they moved closer to the convoy, their eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger.

Nel's eyes narrowed, her jaw tight. The sound rising from her core was best described as a feral growl. She knew these animals... because she used to be one of them. She pushed back from the ridge, taking a few steps away from the rest of the group. She looked at Jackson, her eyes burning with something unhinged. He slowly shook his head as she turned away. Jayce left to catch up, careful to not call her name out loud. She tried to place a gentle hand on Nel's shoulder. While she expected the girl would jump at the touch, she never expected to have her hand swatted away so coldly. Nel was in another world, her mind consumed by the memories of what she had left behind as she kept walking the path down from the ridge.

Jayce looked back to her old man, still shaking his head and motioning her to stay put. She looked down, her hand curling to a fist as her face hardened. There would be hell to pay later, but she made her choice then and there as she locked eyes with Jackson one last time before turning to follow. In only a few seconds, she was gone from his sight, and he swallowed hard as he reminded himself of the task at hand. Panam needed him to lead the nomads from this side of the valley; their success depended on it. As much as it tore him apart, he forced himself to look back down at the convoy. He felt the emotions building in his chest as he looked up, silently mouthing the words, "I'm sorry, baby... keep an eye on her for me."

He felt a warmth for a brief moment, as if Aiyana herself had wrapped her arms around him. He lightly smiled, knowing that she was watching over him from above. Whatever happened tonight, she was watching over all of them.

He looked the other way, further down the valley, confirming Mitch was in position and out of sight with the clan's Basilisk. He could only guess at how the fuck they had managed to snag their own Militech panzer, but judging by Panam's connections in the City... in particular one spunky streetkid he had met only a few days prior... he couldn't be too surprised. He would have to ask her about that later. For now, he took some comfort in the fact that they were as well equipped as they could be... but why only three trucks?

It dawned on Jackson in that moment, for all the hardware they saw stockpiled on the far side of the Border, it'd take way more than three trucks to move it all in one go. So why the minimal payload, here and now of all pla—

SHI-I-IT...

Jackson swore at himself as the realization set in... every bit of this was a diversion to take eyes off the tunnels. And it worked... every capable body that Panam had was presently parked somewhere in this valley, waiting to unleash Hell on three measly trucks and a handful of gonks between them.

He risked it all as he pinged a call directly to Panam, unsurprised as she barked at him, "What the fuck are you doing?! They'll hear us!"

"They already know we's here, kid...", Jackson laid it out plainly, "...'ere's no way they's movin' all that weight wit' only three ground-pounders. 's likely they got reinforcements out o' sight, sent these gonks in to probe for a trap..."

He could almost smell the smoke rising from Panam's ears as she vented her frustrations in a torrent of profanity, wincing the entire way until she stopped long enough to ask, "So now what the fuck do we do?"

Jackson thought hard for a moment before he saw two small shadowy figures moving silently in the valley below. He tagged one of the figures in his cyberoptics, zooming in for a better look before he smiled wide from ear to ear. He couldn't blindly assume Nel was the only person on God's green earth with a pair of implanted Red-era Wolver claws... but he was as comfortable betting on her in this instance as he was confident that his own flesh and blood was only a pace behind her. He tracked their careful movements closely as Panam repeated herself, "Hey, you alive over there? You got a plan for this clusterfuck?!"

"I believe I do...", Jackson answered calmly, "...we spring the trap..."

"Wha—", Panam blurted as he continued, "Lay waste to what's already here, the rest'll come runnin' an' gunnin' to the rescue. Can Mitch quietly park 'at panzer closer to the oncoming berm?"

"Ya even need to ask?!", she egged him on as he dropped off to ping another direct call, Jayce answering, "Now ain't the time, Pa..."

"Don' I know it...", Jackson stifled a laugh at his own kid's brass balls, "...pass a message to Nel..."

He proceeded to lay out the new plan, and their part in it. He knew he couldn't tell them to stay on the sidelines at this point, so the next best thing was to at least try and cover all the angles to keep them as safe as possible. He had eyes on them the whole way from their position to the convoy, silently signaling to his chooms on the ridge where to cover, when to shoot, and what to shoot at. Once all was set and staged from his end, he brought in Panam, "That plan work for you...?"

There was a genuine concern in Panam's voice as she answered, "Far as I'm concerned, it's your show, Jax... it's your kin down there. We follow your lead."

Jackson paused for a moment as he smiled to himself. It was nice having friends he could count on... friends who understood the risks and had his back no matter what. He felt more at ease now, knowing his crew... his family... was in good hands. It just all came down to how the next few minutes played out...

Down in the valley, Jayce silently signaled the plan to Nel, ensuring they both understood what was about to happen and how it all needed to go down. Nel's focus was locked on her former tribe spread out around the three vehicles, her eyes burning with a bloodlust. She recognized a few of the bodies, her hands shaking as she tried to firm herself. She knew what she had to do, but would never admit that in the moment, she didn't know if she could actually go through with it.

She took a few deep breaths, one after the other, trying to calm her nerves as Jayce put a gentle hand on her shoulder. She wasn't alone... she had a family behind her. She looked to Jayce one last time as she nodded. It was time.

Jayce spared herself another second, tagging all twelve bodies standing in a straight line in her HUD. Time was of the essence, and they both moved quickly and silently. A single silenced shot rang out, the bullet tearing through the chromed skull of the third body in the pack as Nel broke into a sprint. Jayce followed with another silenced shot to the last body in line, the poor bastard's neck exploding with a slew of blood and bone as she shifted her aim.

Before any of the outlanders even knew what was happening, Nel was already on her first target, claws extended as she lunged forward. She landed a powerful strike in the small of her victim's back, the chromed claws punching through his guts and out the front of his stomach as she ripped outward. Before he could scream, her other hand reached up, grabbing his head and pulling it back as she tore his throat out. The blood sprayed across her face and chest as she turned and ran to her next target, a second volley of silenced shots following.

By the time these feral men knew what was happening, half of them had already been dispatched in as little as fifteen seconds. Jackson gave the signal from above, gunfire raining down on the remaining bodies and trucks as Jayce grabbed Nel and leapt for cover. They both landed in the sand, though Nel was first to recover as she scrambled to run back out into the middle of it all. Jayce barely caught her choom by the wrist, her eyes wide with shock as Nel turned and snarled, still covered in the claret of her first two kills. She was somewhere else entirely, her eyes flashing red as she tried to jerk away.

As scared as Jayce was of Nel in that moment, she wasn't giving up, tightening her grip as she shook her head and nearly pulled the girl clean off her feet. They had done their part, and until they were told otherwise, it was time to hunker down.

From above, Jackson called out the targets, as few as there were left. Even the gonks driving the trucks only added another six bodies to the mix, and they were just as quickly cut down by the overly enthusiastic nomads. It was all too easy, but he had expected as much. For what was coming, they were as prepared as they could be.

As he expected, the sands shook once again, but not with the same low rumble. In its place, multiple small engines were screaming from beyond the ridge, redlining as they approached amid a cloud of sand and dust in their wake.

As soon as the silhouettes of the first vehicles appeared, the sounds of their engines were dwarfed by the thunderous roar of the nomads' Basilisk firing its main turret. The flash from the muzzle of the mounted 20mm autocannon illuminated the desert all around the massive tank, shattering the night sky with its brilliance and showing off the Aldecaldos' signature red flames painted on the hull. The only thing more dazzling than the light show of the onslaught itself was the husks of now-disabled vehicles catching fire across the horizon, their fuel tanks combusting into small mushroom clouds and billowing upward.

As marvelous as it was to watch, Mitch was only one man with one tank, and Jackson wasn't yet willing to show the ace up their sleeve in the form of Addie and Bison manning the warbird. Nobody was out of the woods yet, a few straggler vehicles breaking free of the gauntlet and speeding into the valley, all with clear Raffen markings. The reinforcements had arrived.

The sounds of distant small arms fire rang out, followed seconds later by the impact of projectiles peppering the rocky ridges on both sides. By Jackson's count, there were all of ten vehicles that had survived the initial battery of fire. It wasn't a small force by any means, but with two dozen combat-hardened nomads... and his own crew... he liked his chances.

Then, it all went to shit as Addie called in his head about the one thing he should have seen coming, "...'ey Jax! Ya got twenty— no, thirty vehicles fast inbound from the other end of the valley!"

Fuck..., he thought as he shifted to look the other direction, zooming in to confirm. There was no time for Mitch to reposition himself. They were on their own for the moment as he called back, "Good lookin' out, Addie... we'll be ready."

To absolutely no surprise, she confirmed and followed up, "We're moving to you, ETA twenty seconds..."

Jackson tried to dissuade her, barely unable to get a word in before she cut him off, "Nah, no way, cowboy! We've been out of this fight long enough already... it's time."

Jackson smirked as he watched the opposite ridge, looking for signs of the approaching vehicles. He forgot the channel was still open as he said quietly, "That's it... come to daddy..."

"Let's get out of this thing alive first, yeah?!, Addie fired back without missing a beat, prompting Jackson to blush hard as he tried not to laugh while she continued, "Comin' in low and fast, watch your heads!"

"Just how I like it, babe...", Jackson joked. Two could play at that game, and he liked the idea of Addie's rosy red cheeks burning as she appeared above them, the jetwash blasting all the sand away from the rocks as the nomads took cover. Jackson stood strong and tall as he smiled and waved before the AV swooped down into the valley to meet the encroaching convoy head-on.

He then rang Panam and passed along the order to set up a line of fire facing both directions in the valley, using the disabled trucks as cover. As he watched all the nomads making their way down the ridge, he took a moment to light a fresh cigarette as he pinged a call to Jayce, "We got heavy hate rollin' our way, kiddo... if you wan'a bug out, ain't gon'a get a prettier chance 'an this."

"...the fuck do you think I am?!", she shouted over the call, "We're in this 'til 's done... come Hell or high water!"

Like father, like daughter...

Jackson was genuinely impressed with her resolve. She had never been one to walk away from a fight or afraid to throw down, but she also had never seen real combat. For her first time out, she was making her old man proud as he watched her take charge down below. He walked briskly down from the ridge with Doc Strong to bring up the rear, not in the least bit surprised his oldest friend hadn't said a word since the shit started.

Strong had always been like that... cool and calm under pressure. He was as competent a rifleman and sharpshooter as he was a field medic. As much as Jackson enjoyed cutting up with the man on their own time, he was glad to know that when it came down to it, when the metal met the meat, that he had a steely-eyed operator among his ranks who knew when to shut up and keep them all focused. For what was fast approaching, he sure as shit wouldn't take it for granted, at least until Strong broke the silence first, "So... kid's sticking around, huh?"

Jackson's face didn't hide the surprise well, Strong reading him like an open book, "Still amazed that I know what you're thinking? It gets that way when you're elbow-deep in someone's guts..."

"Yeah, so you keep remindin' me...", Jackson laughed, trying to feign annoyance with a sigh, "...Jayce ain't goin' nowhere. You'd think I called her a coward when I told her 'is might be her only shot at walkin' away."

"Remind you of anyone...?", Strong ribbed his old choom. Jackson could read minds too, and he rubbed a scar on his cheek as he answered, "First one out'a the trench, first one to catch a tank shell burst in the face..."

"And this dumb motherfucker...", Strong laughed, "...got right back up and charged in headstrong like a wild banshee covered in his own blood."

"It's the native in me, can't help it...", Jackson laughed in response before stopping, lightly punching Strong's shoulder, "...and hey! End o' the day, wasn't jus' my blood coverin' my face."

They both stopped, having settled on the edge of the road running the valley floor, and Strong turned to Jackson, hand up and open as he said, "To hell and back, brother..."

Jackson grabbed the hand with his own, "One way or another."

He was caught off guard as Jayce ambushed him from the side and punched his arm, "How the hell you gon'a tell me I need'a leave, Pa?!"

She was shaking like a leaf, her breathing uneven and her rifle rattling in her hands, but she had a goofy smile on her face as she teased her old man. The combat high had taken hold, her blood running thick with adrenaline that she didn't yet know how to control. All Jackson could do was smile as he plucked the cigarette from his own lips and placed it between hers before giving her cheek a pinch as he said, "Good work, Nel too... where is she...?"

All the joy drained from Jayce's face as she nodded to the side. Nel was kneeling by one of the bodies blown in half during the first wave, a small crater of ash and blood where the other half of him should have been. She worked her hands through the sludgy mix, deep in her own mind as she brought them up. She rubbed her hands together before scraping her fingers across her face and neck, the mess creating a kind of war paint as she turned to look at everyone watching. Her face hardened as she looked away, tears forming in her eyes before she stood up, grabbing her shotgun and walking away.

She quickly disappeared into the mix of nomads taking their positions as Jackson shook his head and tried to focus on the job at hand. The kid had already demonstrated that she knew how to handle herself, and they had Raffen and whatever else closing in fast from both ends of the valley. They needed to be ready for whatever happened.

If Jackson had his druthers, he'd prefer to just run out and meet the convoys halfway. Waiting around wasn't doing anyone any good as focuses shifted and the initial adrenaline wore off. For the moment, he took comfort in the fact that if nothing else, Jayce was right next to him... and he intended to keep it that way.

At long last, the beams of headlights bounced off the rock face from around the bend, the sounds of engines approaching from any Raffen who survived the first encounter with the Basilisk. Jackson smirked as he checked his rifle, Jayce doing the same as Doc Strong firmed up the nomads in their positions.

Jackson stepped up in front, standing proud as he took one last look and called out, "Y'all ready, boys?!"

Men or women, it didn't matter. All the nomads present cheered in unison as rifles were racked one last time. He took his position next to them, crouching behind the exposed engine block of one of the stripped down vehicles as he took aim... and waited.

The first vehicle appeared, speeding like a bat out of hell. It was already shot to shit, the windshield nothing more than a spiderweb of broken glass with smoke trailing from under the hood. As the other vehicles appeared behind it, trying to keep pace, Jackson counted off in his head, holding his hand out to give a signal when the time was right. It was going to be close... but he preferred it that way, a smile spreading wide as he finally shouted, "NOW!"

Strong fired a single shot from a high-powered rifle, the large caliber round punching clean through the engine block and spraying what remained of the windshield in a dark and viscous fluid. The vehicle stopped dead in its tracks, a cloud of sand forming around it as two bodies scrambled from the front seats with rifles at the ready. They were barely two paces away from the vehicle before the other nomads cut them down with extreme prejudice.

In line with the first vehicle, the trailing convoy was caught in a cloud of shrapnel and fire as directional mines planted in the rock face on either side were detonated. As much as Jackson would liked to have stuck with the EMP trip-mines, he couldn't fault Panam for having every angle covered and then some. Whatever survived that unholy mess was easy pickin's for Mitch and the nomads on this side. There were bigger fish to fry, and so for the moment, Jackson left Strong in charge as he turned and marched in the opposite direction.

The nomads on this end of the valley certainly had their work cut out for them. The approaching vehicles were a healthy mix of Raffen rovers and unmarked rust-buckets barely holding together. There was no pattern or formation to their movements outside of covering as much ground and kicking up as much sand as possible. Even with infrared optics, it was hard to get a proper bead on any one car. Still, Panam's people were ready, holding fast as the cloud approached.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Nel appeared almost silently next to Jackson, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket as he turned and looked down at her. There was no emotion in her face, and none of the adrenaline causing her to shake like Jayce. She was perfectly still, but focused, as she looked up and said nonchalantly, "Make sure they know to save the last bullet for themselves if it comes down to it..."

Jackson shook his head in confusion before Nel finished her sentence, "The male warriors... they like to feed..."

Her voice wasn't loud enough to carry over the entire line, but for the few poor souls within earshot, they collectively groaned, voicing their shock and awe as they passed the word along. Jackson's face twisted at the notion as he quelled a rising churn in his gut. He swallowed hard whatever knots had formed in his throat, forcing the churn back down as he looked out at the cloud once again.

It was suddenly oddly quiet for the notion of thirty vehicles heading straight towards them. There were no screaming engines or grinding gears; no loud horns or wild screams. It was as if they were invisible and entirely inaudible, and yet they were there all the same. Their presence was felt from all directions, the veritable fog of war stopping short at the visible edge of the valley. Lit flares were visible behind the walls of sand and dust, their bright red torches and plumes illuminating upward.

Out from the cloud, something flew through the air, landing with a muted splat in the sand and rolling forward. Panam nearly lost her lunch, clasping a hand over her mouth as her entire body convulsed at the sight... it was a head belonging to one of her lost scouts. There was a collective noise building all around the nomads, a corrupted choir of snarls and growls echoing through the valley.

Jackson looked up, the rest of the nomads following suit before they realized with eyes wide open... they were surrounded. In front, behind, above and all around... they were dead to rights. While they were busy dealing with the encroaching unpleasantness from both ends, two separate groups of bad guys had claimed the overhead ridges... they had the high ground now.

By the looks of it, the nomads' chances of not being completely massacred were slim and none as the dust cloud finally dissipated, revealing a sea of bodies and parked vehicles. The Raffen among them stuck to the back of the pack, allowing the gangly and mangled bodies of the Outlanders to step forward. Jackson took note of their hands based on Nel's earlier comment, looking for the telltale signs. As they formed a line to stare the nomads down, sure enough, the majority of them were unable to keep from shaking. The involuntary tremors throughout their bodies could have pointed to any number of long-term afflictions... drug withdrawal or implant rejection being the most common. But adding in the fact that these motherfuckers liked to eat people, it painted a clearer picture of the damage done; the grey matter inside their skulls was rotting away.

Jackson was almost certain that Doc Strong had a prettier and more eloquent way of explaining it, but here and now, it didn't really matter. They were facing an enemy that was literally hungry for blood. Despite never noticing the same tremors in Nel, one had to wonder...

He shook his head and focused on the present issue. They were a force of maybe thirty bodies against at least three times that, and they had been snookered into the worst possible position. Adding insult to injury, the convoy of vehicles had somehow masked their approach entirely until it was too late. They were able to approach under cover of a conjured sandstorm and make almost no noise at the same time...

Then, the lightbulb clicked on in Jackson's head and he smiled to himself. He was so focused on the lack of noise from the approaching convoy that he completely lost track of any noise whatsoever from their angel in the sky. His brain lit up with the sound of Addie's voice at the most opportune possible moment, "Best grab your ankles and hit the deck, cowboy!"

Jackson laughed out loud and yelled to his compatriots to take cover, all of them thoroughly confused until the jetwash rattled their teeth loose as Sheila swooped into position overhead. Addie gracefully swung the aerodyne around, baring her starboard side as Bison took aim with a wide smile on his face. He racked a handle back and let it slam forward before gently squeezing the trigger of the door-mounted chain gun and planting his feet firmly to brace against the recoil.

The mechanism took a second to spool up before the barrel repeatedly rode back into the carriage of the receiver against its hydraulic buffers, the muzzle flash illuminating the sky with the boom of hot lead spewing out at a cyclic rate of six hundred rounds per minute. Each bullet punched through sand, rock, and whatever else in its way as a dusty red cloud formed around the screaming bodies scrambling for cover and returning fire. Bison's eyes burned as the smaller calibers bounced harmlessly off the armored exterior and he shifted his focus to the other ridge... he just didn't want anyone to feel left out.

Down on the valley floor, Jackson's eyes adjusted to the low visibility from the debris and gunfire peppering the rock walls on either side. Their main opposition dead ahead was advancing, laying down a cover of fire as the Aldecaldos responded in kind. There was a not-so-small pile of spent shells and brass casings forming at their feet, the clinking of metal providing a subtle background texture to the deafening discharge of weapons on both sides of the conflict.

As the distance closed between them, some of Panam's people moved into the open to engage head-on. The valley was a choke point, forcing the Raffen and Outlanders into a bottleneck. As long as Addie could provide cover from above, the odds were ever in their favor.

Jackson watched as bodies crashed against one another, engaging in hand-to-hand combat. Before his very eyes, he watched Nel making short work of men quite literally twice her size, her claws slashing and punching through bone and flesh like a knife through soft butter. She was in another world... a world he knew all too well as he instinctively dodged a crude ax swinging for his head, catching the arm of the assailant and delivering a solid strike with his chromed fist. The attacker flew backwards, unable to breathe amid freshly broken ribs piercing his lungs. Jackson didn't waste any time, moving on to the next target in his path.

He didn't see another attacker moving in from the side, narrowly missing a cleaver aimed for his neck as Jayce tackled the poor bastard into the sand. She quickly disarmed him, raising the cleaver above her head before swinging with all of her might. With a sickening crunch, the blade wedged itself between bone and gray matter, leaving a fresh streak of hot blood shooting across her face as she looked at her old man with narrowed eyes. In that moment, Jackson genuinely couldn't remember if Jayce had ever actually taken a life before tonight; it didn't matter anymore... she stepped up when it mattered most, though there'd likely be hell to pay later.

He kept moving through the sea of bodies, engaging when and where he could. His left hand was already a force to be reckoned with, but it didn't hurt that he chose to pair it with a hefty boot knife as he racked and stacked his own body count amid the chaos. Guns were a waste this close in. Every encounter left him dirtier, bloodier, and hungry for more as he toed that fine line. No longer was he the master tactician pouring over every dot and tiddle of a map... no longer was his job to help Panam's people survive the night. Now, the only thing driving him was to kill more of the enemy.

To his momentary dismay, the bodies were already thinning out as the Aldecaldos pushed further out of the valley. It was anyone's guess, but all appearances pointed to at least half of the combined Raffen and Outlander forces having been wiped out, and going by the clock in his HUD, they had only been at it for a little under an hour.

All things considered, they were faring better than expected, leaving Jackson wondering just what the fuck was the catch... and then a wild haymaker caught him from behind, crashing against the base of his skull as everything went fuzzy. He fell face first in the sand before a jerk on his shoulder turned him over. He tried to recover his senses as he clumsily blocked and deflected a pair of bloodied and trembling hands clawing for him. As his eyes slowly refocused, he saw the painted corpse-like face snarling and growling and standing over him. The man's body was grotesque, covered in brand scars and shitty tattoos not unlike Nel... where they differed was in the fact that he had a multitude of self-inflicted cuts across his chest and arms, all of them stitched, re-opened, and re-stitched.

He was a gangly creature, but his raw ferocity and strength were giving Jackson a run for his money as he tried to keep the hungry animal at bay. His knife was just out of his reach in the sand. The fight was slowly tipping away from him, the man closing the distance and leaning with all his weight before his eyes shot open and he cried out in pain.

Jackson recognized a small fist with three sharpened blades punched into the creature's ribs. With a single fluid motion and a yell, Nel ripped her claws out and back, taking most of his left lung, his stomach, and his ribcage with her. The body twitched and jerked as a low rattle left his mouth before Nel kicked him over on his side. Jackson locked eyes with his little albatross as she retracted the claws on her right hand and held it out. He took her hand in his own, unsurprised that she could pull him to his feet with little struggle.

Never mind the warpaint from earlier, Nel was covered from head to toe in blood... not her own... and they stared at one another for several seconds as time seemed to slow down. For the first time since they found her half-dead in the sand, Jackson saw the world Nel came from with his own eyes... and he saw just how close she was to falling right back into it after all the progress she had made. His heart broke for her all over again, but there wasn't anything to do about it for the moment. Survival was the name of the game, no matter the cost.

Jackson was distracted for only a second by the jetwash of their AV flying by, but he caught something in the corner of his eye. A lone Raffen shouldered a man-portable launcher and stared through the sights as he painted his target. Time stopped entirely as Jackson reached for his holster, pulling his revolver out and taking aim as he cocked the hammer. He haphazardly pulled the trigger until the chambers clicked empty, watching as each shot found its mark... but it was too late. Just as soon as the Raffen fell over dead, the fired missile soared up into the sky, its plume illuminating all around as it homed for its target.

Up in the air, Bison was calling the shots... and taking the shots... as Addie gracefully steered Sheila wherever they were needed. As much as she enjoyed goofing off with the big beefcake, he was disciplined and reliable when it mattered most, but even he was just a man. He called out over the open channel as he tried to reposition the chain gun, "Shit, Addie we got inbound at five-o-clock! Evasive manuevers!!!"

Addie heard the alarms screaming in her head from the target lock and the encroaching unpleasantness as she fishtailed the AV around, trying to both get the tail rotor out of the missile's sights and give Bison the vantage he needed. If anyone could knock the missile out of the sky, all bets were on him. He found his mark, careful to lead the plume as he opened fire, but even at 600 rounds per minute, it wasn't enough. He tried to warn Addie before the missile veered right into their tail, engulfing the entire back half of the aircraft in an explosion that reduced the once pristine hull into two completely separate pieces hurtling towards the ground.

Sheila's back was broken, her wings clipped and burning, the loose bits and pieces lost to ash like feathers on the wind. Addie swore at herself as she ripped the interface cords loose from her head. The alarms weren't doing her any favors, and she could do more with manual controls anyway. She hit a few switches overhead, punching a few buttons and yelling back, "Buckle up, ya big lug! It's getting interesting!"

Despite the very real possibility that they would both end up painted on the side of a rock face, Bison couldn't help himself as he recovered from the blast and fired back, "Always is with you... Hell, 's why Jackson loves you!"

While she had obviously more pressing matters to tend to presently, it nonetheless did her some good to hear Jackson's name and the world love in the same sentence, even if she put it out her mind almost immediately. For all she knew, that was just some drunken confession shared over a bottle of whiskey once upon a time. She flashed her teeth as she firmed her grip on both the cyclic and collective levers. The torque pedals were a moot point without a tail rotor, but she still had control over the main rotors, so despite the Raffen's best efforts, she was still in this fight and still committed to making the best out of a shitty landing... even if only for Bison's sake.

Addie's time as an NUSA pilot flashed through her mind, a resilient calm taking hold as she struggled against the high-G spin to move her arms freely. The alarms pierced her ears, the turbulence of the cockpit rattling her brain. She strained her neck to look back in the cabin... to look at Bison... as she made her choice and opened a line to him again, her voice smooth and soft, almost motherly, "Ain't shit you can do here, mate... best clear out while you still can..."

"Fuck no!", Bison protested in shock, "We're going down together, and I'll drag you out of this shit myself!"

"This is my bird...", Addie chided him, "...don't be a gonk, Bison. Jump while I still have control of the twin rotors..."

To make her point as delicately as ever, Addie pulled back on the lever between her legs, creating some hang as the fractured body of their beloved warbird leveled out, even if it was still spinning in circles. Bison forced himself to the edge of the open cabin, the G-force presenting the same problems as Addie was fighting up front. He planted his feet and firmly gripped a bar over his head to stabilize as he looked back toward the cockpit, his voice shaky and vulnerable, "Y-You'll be right behind me... yeah?"

Addie looked down at several possible damage paths for if and when the AV hit the deck... and not a single one of them ended well for anyone on the ground if she abandoned her seat now. She closed her eyes for a brief moment amid all the chaos, releasing a deep breath as she looked dead-ahead at the void of the night sky and lied through her teeth, "As soon as you get the fuck out of my way, big boy... you won't get a cleaner chance than this. I'll be right behind ya. Now go!"

Bison may have played the lovable meathead off the clock, but he knew the smell of bullshit better than anyone else. There was no chance Addie was leaving her prized aerodyne to the simple whims of gravity. She would sooner ride it all the way to Hell and back on her own than risk any one of the people she loved... he could only hope she made the right call as he closed his eyes and crossed his arms, taking a leap of faith out and away from the flying wreck as he pleaded, "I better see you on the other side..."

"Yeah... promises...", Addie quietly retorted as she put all her focus into steering the damaged aircraft away from the bodies below. Even if she could take out a number of the bad guys with the soon-to-be smoldering wreck, there was too much risk. Friend and foe alike were too closely intermingled.

Addie only had one choice, and that was to try and divert Sheila's carcass as far away from the ground combat as possible, and hope either her own crew or Panam's were the first to find her... dead or alive.

To add to the clutter of master alarms, she was now fighting the low-altitude warnings. She would never take silence for granted again as she flexed her arms and core and positioned herself in the pilot's seat, fighting against the centrifugal force and shouting as she cranked the emergency power to the rotors and steered with all of her might. She just had to hope it was enough...

From the ground, Jackson watched the entire event unfold, a cold panic running down his spine as he froze in place. He couldn't even comprehend the possibility of losing them... of losing Addie.

The ground shook all around them as the AV crash-landed, the resulting explosion lighting up the sky as a giant beacon beyond the ridge. As much as Jackson wanted to break away, he knew his place was here. Panam's people needed him here.

Nel read the old cowboy's mind, crossing his path as she patted his arm and spoke calmly, "She's mine... I'll get her out. She won't stand a chance if they get to her..."

The girl was gone before Jackson could protest, but he could have hugged her in that moment. Still, Nel was only one person, and she needed someone watching her back. He fought in his own mind between the father and the soldier before instinct took over and he shouted, "Jayce! Cover her!"

He had to be cold about it, especially now. The panic and emotion would only hurt him... hurt all of them. Luckily, Jayce said nothing, only nodding in the affirmative as she fired a burst from her slung rifle to clear a path. She disappeared around the bend, leaving Jackson with a new objective... hold the line.

--

The otherwise dry desert air hung heavy with a humid red pall; blood-laced sand churned up into dust and suspended by the smoke of explosions and gunpowder. It didn't take Jayce long to catch up to Nel, what with a trail of bodies left in the girl's wake. The combined Raffen and Outlanders's numbers were rapidly dwindling, the battle all but won.

Jayce finally cleared the valley to the open dunes, the crash site visible in the distance. The building fires were spreading, the smoke doing little more than attracting unwanted attention. Somewhere in that mangled mess of metal was the crew's pilot and Mother Hen... and her time was quickly running out. The li'l albatross stood between Jayce and the remains of their AV, seemingly rigid and stuck. Jayce carefully approached before the presence of a second body sent her crouching in the sand to stay out of sight. She carefully shifted her way around for a better look before her eyes widened. Nel was staring down one of her own... one of her sisters.

The girl had a similar build to Nel, petite but muscular, and shapely in all the right places. She had a hard edge to her, a multitude of scars and track marks running up and down the exposed skin of her arms and abdomen. Her clothes were ragged and hanging off of her, and her entire body shook as her blood likely ran thick with synthetic stimulants and psychotropic drugs. She was out of her mind, scared and angry... and above it all, confused at the supposedly dead sister standing before her.

Jayce had to assume if Nel was found outside Dakota Smith's garage, half-dead from her injuries and the desert heat, it was likely whoever she was with at the time reported her dead altogether. Seeing Nel alive and in good health would certainly be a shock... not to mention seeing her standing up on two legs. Where her shoulders sagged and her spine was still curved leading up to her neck, the other girl moved comfortably on all fours, resting on her knuckles and shifting on the balls of her feet. She was perched like an animal ready to pounce as she sized up the situation.

Nel had her hands raised to try and keep the situation calm, to signal that she didn't want to fight. Her words weren't much use in a situation like this, as the girl staring her down only vocalized a few grunts and snarls while pounding her fists into the ground and trying to fake lunging forward. She was baiting Nel, and Nel knew it. Jayce saw the conflict of trying to hold on to all the progress made over the last two months. There were tears forming in her eyes as she gently spoke, "Please... don't do this. There's a better life for you."

The girl bared her teeth and growled in response, the look on her face a mix of confused and frustrated. She was here to kill, to obey without question... and yet here she saw her own sister standing in the way. Nel tried again, her foot sliding back into a prepared stance as if expecting the worst, and she pleaded, "I-I have a family now... a real family. You can come back with us... you don't have to hurt anymore... please."

Her voice faltered as the girl pushed her luck and closed the distance between them. What Jayce hadn't noticed before now were the threaded seams running up and down the girl's arms. They were similar to Nel's, but a different pattern. The girl snarled and reared up on her hind legs as her arms exploded into a series of skin platelets, a blade on each arm protruding forward. She landed back on her knuckles, the blades sticking into the sand as she crawled forward. Nel tried one last time, shaking her head but preparing herself anyway as her own claws extended and she brought her arms up to guard her body.

The girl accepted the challenge, lunging forward with a shout as Nel deflected the blades with her own and moved out of the way. Jayce was impressed that Nel chose to stay on two legs, effortlessly navigating around her opponent instead of resorting to her old and feral ways. What was even more shocking is that Nel wasn't attacking... she was only blocking and defending herself. She didn't want to fight, but she wasn't about to give up.

Jayce stayed out of the way and out of sight, knowing she couldn't really add anything to the situation. Instead, she chose to carefully skirt the edges as she crossed the dunes and made her way closer to the crash site. Her heart sank and she felt a pit forming in her gut as she surveyed the scene. There was a sharp path cut in the sand from the crash, a trail of wreckage leading up to the broken shell of the machine on which she had spent countless hours tuning and tweaking over the years with Addie.

What remained of the cabin was crumpled like a tin can and firmly embedded in the sand, the nose of the craft sticking out and slowly tipping forward as the hull creaked and strained. There was a stench of burnt oil and leaking fuel, a growing fire spreading from the rear. Jayce knew she didn't have much time, avoiding the loose bits of wreckage as she approached. She couldn't see into the cockpit from this angle, but she knew if she climbed on top, the craft would come crashing down into the sand.

It was a calculated risk, but one she had to take. She wasn't about to leave Addie in there. She slung her rifle back and reached up, carefully pulling herself up and over. The surface was rough and hot to the touch from the encroaching fire, a sweat forming as she tried to not hold onto any one spot for too long. She hesitated with each plant of her foot on the damaged metal hull, feeling the weight shifting with every step. And finally, just as she predicted, the periodic creaks turned into one giant metallic shriek as the hull fell forward. She jumped off just in time, but landing face-first in the sand wasn't much more of a pleasant alternative.

She coughed, expelling the dust from her lungs as she pushed up and to her feet. Her legs were wobbly as she pulled herself together and counted her blessings; she could see into and reach the cockpit from the ground. She ran to the nose of the craft, cupping her hands and peering in. Addie didn't appear any worse for wear, except for a trickle of blood running down her face... and the fact that she was altogether unconscious. The harness kept her body strapped into the seat, but her head slumped forward. Jayce could only assume Addie's flight suit masked any other apparent injuries, and she prayed for strength and speed as she went to work.

On the other side of a sand dune, Nel and the feral girl traded blows, their blades clashing and sparks flying. As much as Nel didn't want to fight the girl, she didn't have any other choice. She had to protect her crew... her family... even if it meant killing one of her own. She didn't yet know how to put it into words, but for Addie... for Jackson... for Jayce... she'd let the world burn for all of them.

She saw Jayce from the corner of her eye trying to work, and so her objective was clear: keep the girl's focus by any means possible. She was still pulling her punches, but at least now, she was on the offensive. A small part of her still wanted to reason with the girl... to try and help.

Two months ago, the crew were all strangers to Nel, just another threat. If anyone had told her there was a life of love and comfort to be found, after all she had been through, she would have cut them to shreds and laughed while doing it. Out here on the fringe, the only concept of family she ever had was the sisters that suffered with her every night, and the small bit of comfort they found in holding each other when it was all over, knowing the same fate awaited them at the sun's next rising.

As they danced around each other, each of them sizing the other up, Nel felt that dark side of her creeping back in as the memories flashed in her mind. She was losing control, and she liked it. She felt the raw power surging through her as she lowered her stance, her hands widening to accommodate walking on her knuckles. Her eyes narrowed as she stared down the girl and silently begged her to take a shot. She wanted the fight now, and she set her stance to challenge the girl, baring her chest with arms wide in the sand and arching her back to pounce forward. That low growl rose from deep inside her, culminating in a snarl as she snapped her teeth. She faked a step forward, successfully baiting her opponent.

The girl jumped forward with a wild and undisciplined slash, Nel perfectly positioned to counter as she rolled to the side, her hands reaching out to grab the girl's arm. She twisted her body, using her momentum to throw the girl off balance before landing a solid knee in the stomach. The girl grunted in pain as she stumbled back and fell. Nel gave her no time to recover, lunging forward with her claws extended and ready to finish. She wanted blood so badly that she could almost taste it. Even the mere notion of this girl harming a single hair on Jayce's head was enough to send Nel over the edge.

She narrowly missed her opponent rolling out of the way, turning as they faced each other once again and traded barks and growls. Nel pounded her fists into the sand as a challenge, her voice forced and gravelly as she screamed, "COME ON!!!"

The shout was enough to grab Jayce's attention as she looked up from her present task, making sure she was still alone. Part of her screamed to go back and help Nel, but she couldn't risk leaving Addie... the fires were spreading too fast, the heat all but singeing the hairs on her arms. She put all of it out of her mind as she focused on trying to loosen the screws around the reinforced and segmented glass canopy. So far, she was five-for-five on stripped screw heads, her trembling hands and chattering teeth not helping matters. Here and now, the combat high and adrenaline were affecting her in the worst ways, leaving her more and more frustrated as she dropped her tools in the sand and slung her rifle back around. She resorted to a cruder method, shouting as she crashed the butt of her rifle against the glass. With each strike, the coated and armored finish sent the polymer stock bouncing off with little effect.

Jayce persisted all the same, eventually voicing her frustrations with a torrent of profanity as she didn't even see the smallest of cracks forming. She was losing her grip on the situation, afraid for Addie and angry at her own failure as, with a last ditch effort, she shouted again and threw the rifle down, resorting to punching the glass with her bare fists. Each slam of 'ganic bone against the canopy left smears of blood and sent shocks of pain through her arms, her knuckles bruised and nearly broken as she screamed, "COME ON! OPEN, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!"

The scream was loud enough to draw the feral girl's attention, her eyes leaving Nel as she perked up and zeroed in. Nel's eyes widened as she prepared herself. The girl sneered and snickered, baring her teeth in a haunting smile as she turned and started to run. Nel dove for her feet, catching her by the literal bootstraps and pulling her legs out from under. The girl fell face-first into the sand with a grunt as Nel reached up and crawled on top to hold her in place. The girl was able to roll over on her back as she clawed and scratched wildly, trying to find her mark and get free. Nel let herself be entirely consumed as she dodged and blocked the blades before finding her opening to counter. With her claws extended on both hands, she drove them down and forward, feeling the crunch of bone and flesh giving way as she found herself eye to eye with her sister. She didn't even have to look down to know she was knuckle deep in the girl's ribcage, her claws piercing heart and lungs.

The girl's drowning gasps filled Nel's ears as blood filled her mouth. There were tears running down her bruised face as she saw Nel fully revert to her old ways in that moment. Nel bared her teeth like a wild animal, snarling as she locked eyes and asserted herself. The girl accepted her fate as she let her arms fall to the side before she felt the claws pulling free. As blood poured from the matching puncture wounds, Nel let out a primal roar as she finished the poor girl with slash after wild slash, all of her pain and suffering pouring out until there was nothing left.

Finally, with one last scream, Nel drove her right hand through what was left of the girl's face, the skull collapsing inward as the claws punched into the ground underneath. She cried out as she punched her left fist into nothing but sand, unable to stop herself in that moment. The tears soaked her face as they mixed with the sweat and blood pouring off of her. It was done... but at what cost? What was it all for? What was the fucking point of any of it?

An enraged and masculine scream pulled Nel back from the abyss as she turned to face one of her former tribe's warriors staring down, hatred in his eyes as he raised his weapon and shouted, "You traitorous cun—"

The shout was cut short as a single shot rang out, the warrior's head exploding and painting the sand around him red as the body collapsed. Nel was in shock, not even reacting to the fresh smattering of blood hitting her face as Bison stepped forward, smoke rising from the barrel of his rifle. He looked down at her, offering his hand as he said, "Y'okay, kid?!"

She stared blankly at him, no words to give. He looked like he'd been to Hell and back, fresh bruises forming on his face as blood and grit ran down through his beard. His arms were similarly covered in streaking red. He was likely in a bad way if he didn't get help soon, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

Nel finally answered her own question from earlier as she snapped herself back to reality. The entire reason she was even here was because Addie was trapped in a giant burning sardine can less than fifty feet away. Her eyes narrowed as she said nothing to Bison at all, leaving what remained of her dead sister in the sand as she climbed out of the ditch and over the berm. Bison stood dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the feral girl's remains before he spat a wad of blood in the sand and followed. Somebody had to watch the girls' backs, and from what he had seen on his way down the ridge with a dislocated shoulder, Jackson and Doc Strong were still in the middle of it.

Nel found Jayce leaning against the AV with her head between her legs. Her entire body shook with anger and fear, her arms covering her face in shame, hands bloodied and knuckles mashed into a pulp. She was entirely beside herself with no idea of what to do... and yet she had enough sense to douse what she could of the fires in loose sand. All in all, she was a fucking mess... and Nel was the closest thing any of them had in this moment to a guardian angel. Jayce heard their feet shifting in the sand, her eyes wide as she wanted nothing more than to hug her choomba... and yet the last two months and the fresh coat of some other gonk's blood painting Nel from head to toe told Jayce that was a bad idea.

The li'l albatross's face was cold and blank, her jaw clenched. Jayce couldn't remember seeing her face like this since she was locked in the cages at Mother Base, but it was enough to stir the former out of wallowing in self-pity and moving the fuck away. It was Nel's turn now, and she stepped up to the task as her claws extended once again. She didn't hesitate, yelling and driving her chromed and clawed fist against the side of the cockpit. Despite her unhinged appearance, she was careful to not punch too deep for fear of injuring the precious cargo strapped in the pilot's seat.

With punch after punch, Nel tore through the reinforced steel like it was nothing. Once she was confident she had all but separated the canopy, she turned to Bison and motioned him forward... she needed his muscles. He stumbled forward, his shoulder and other injuries getting the better of him as he said weakly, "...j-just... give me a moment..."

He swallowed hard, spitting another wad of blood and breathing in deep as he turned toward the wall of the craft. He held his good hand against the damaged shoulder as he braced himself and counted off. Each count was met with a sharp inhale until at last, he slammed his shoulder as hard as he could against the steel panel with a gnarly and gut-wrenching crunch as he cried out. He gritted his teeth and fell to his knees, curling a fist and pounding against the wall as he tried not to laugh amid pained grunts from the sheer relief.

"Brace yourself...", Jayce followed up quickly as she jammed an air-hypo canister directly into the side of his neck. With a hiss and release of pale green mist, Bison sighed deep at first before his eyes opened wide as he tried to stifle a gasp. The combined shot of synthetics... morphine, adrenaline, and whatever else... ran wild in Bison's blood as he stood up straight, his breathing loud and labored. He took the few steps over to the damaged canopy, nearly shoving Jayce and Nel out of the way. He primed his chromed hands between the severed bits of metal as he looked to the girls, smiled, and said, "Open sesame..."

He shouted and pulled apart with all his might, the metal whining against the force as it buckled under pressure. Inch by inch, it gave way until the few remaining contact points broke apart. With one last yell, Bison pushed up and over, completely severing the canopy from the craft. Had Jayce not been able to reach in and feel Addie's cheek with her own hand, she otherwise wouldn't have believed it. She grabbed a knife with a gut-hook tip from inside her boot, bracing the harness in one hand as she snagged the tip of the blade against the fabric. She looked at Addie's face, expecting for a moment to see a warm smile staring back. There was nothing... she was out cold, and there was no time like the present. Jayce clenched her jaw as she gave a single count before pulling the blade back and severing the strap in one slice.

She carefully negotiated the y-strap up and over, freeing Addie's body as Bison reached in and kept her from slumping forward. He took a small liberty and checked for any apparent broken bones or other injuries that would preclude moving her, and his cheeks burned as he muttered softly, "Sorry, Ads... it's for a good cause, I promise."

Quiet as he was, Jayce still heard him, biting her lip to keep from laughing. They weren't out of the woods yet... none of them were... but the worst of it was over for the moment.

Confident that he wouldn't do more harm than good, Bison carefully brought Addie's arm up and across his shoulders, wrapping his own arm around and underneath as he gently raised upward. Jayce negotiated the legs to clear the sharper bits of damaged metal. Bison whispered directions to Jayce as they worked together, finally clearing the craft altogether as they gently placed Addie on the ground. To their relief, she was breathing, and her pulse was strong and steady... just as stubborn as she was.

They looked at one another and shared a sigh of relief before the crew-wide holocall rang with Jackson's voice, excited and at the same time entirely exhausted, "W-We pulled it off, folks... t-they're finally... p-pullin' back! What's everyone's status?!"

Jayce and Bison looked at one another for a moment before the older nomad shrugged with a raised eyebrow. As far as he was concerned, Jayce was running this side of things. She smiled and nodded, looking down at Addie as she answered, "Crash site secured... Addie's free an' clear... unconscious, but stable... Bison's here too."

There was a heavy sigh of relief before Jackson followed up, "An' Nel...?"

Ah shit!, Jayce thought as she whipped her head around. She was so preoccupied with getting Addie clear of the cockpit that she completely forgot to keep an eye on Nel altogether. She scanned in all directions before she found her choomba stumbling along in the sand, feet shifting one after the other. She gave a sharp exhale and calmed herself as she answered, "...she's uh... she's in one piece. Headin' back your way, now."

"Copy 'at...", Jackson picked up on the trepidation in her voice, "We'll see y'all soon... Panam's makin' heads an' tails of all this. Regroup on me."

They all gave the affirmative, Jayce looking back to Bison as he wore a pained expression. The Bounceback was already wearing off, and he looked like he might pass out if he didn't get help soon. He tried to laugh it off as he nudged his younger choom and said, "Hate to ask, bu—"

"I got 'er, Bison...", Jayce read his mind and shifted herself to support Addie's weight as she stood up, "You jus' focus on walkin' out o' here."

Bison winced, but nodded with a smirk all the same, "Copy that, hoss..."

--

Back in the valley, Jackson and Strong were making an account of the entire ordeal. They had fared better than expected. They were a crew of thirty pitted against an enemy force four times their size... and so far they had only counted five casualties on their side. Things could have gone a lot worse, but at the end of it all, five members of Panam's family weren't coming home tonight.

Jackson tried to push this to back of his mind as he surveyed the goings-on around him. Strong was giving aid where he could while Panam tried to bring some measure of order to the chaos. By his reckoning, no more than ten bodies had retreated off into the dark desert, living to die another day. As far as he was concerned, it was all in a day's work, and he smiled to himself as he slammed fresh rounds into the chambers of his revolver.

It came as no surprise to anyone that this small convoy was little more than a diversion... as was this entire exercise from start to finish. Jackson put all the pieces together in his own mind for how he would explain it all to Panam once they were... somewhere else entirely. Near as he could tell, the outlanders knew that executing two Aldecaldos in broad daylight would drive all the rest to blood-thirst and hunger... they knew that despite recent difficulties, the Aldecaldos still had eyes all along the Border crossing. They knew that this stretch of Sage Gulch Road was the best possible candidate for ambush, and they smelled the nomads coming from miles away.

Just like the outlanders had driven those two poor bastards into a trap, they had also successfully driven the Aldecaldos at large right where they wanted, and forced them to show their hand. To Panam's credit, the Aldecaldos also showed that with the right crew, they had unlimited firepower and could coordinate and adapt to any situation. Never mind the stronghold at the end of the road... this was still the Aldecaldos' territory, and they weren't driven out so easily.

Jackson was actually proud of the freckle-faced brat for how well she held her people together under pressure. They had been through the shit before, but he never failed to be impressed at her tenacity. That famous temper was useful after all, but don't let her hear it. He chuckled to himself as he shifted his focus to the other giant question mark in their midst... what the fuck were these trucks carrying?

Where he had expected to find either some crates of weapons or nothing at all, he was instead met with a few unmarked boxes containing hundreds of vials with a transparent and almost luminescent viscous red substance. The glass vials clinked against one another as the crates were moved out of the truck, Jackson reaching in and pulling a single vial loose as he held it up and peered through. There didn't appear to be anything special about it at first glance, but then he never was a chemist. He figured if nothing else, Dakota could help shed some light on it... but that was a thread for another time. For the moment, it was time for a smoke. He placed a fresh cigarette between his lips and lit the end, inhaling deep as his body calmed. The smoke lit up his lungs and he exhaled with a light chuckle into the night sky... it felt good.

Panam took her place next to him as she nudged him and said, "Good work, cowboy... thanks... for the assist."

Despite her desire to give him a hard time, she was indebted to him... again, her face wearing the sincerity of her words. If it weren't for her brutal honesty and holding herself accountable, Jackson and his crew likely would have been much poorer over the years. The Aldecaldos always found a way of paying back their debts in one form or another... even if one of them was currently a smoldering wreck in the sand dunes on the other side of the plateau.

She looked down at the vial in his hand and asked the loaded question on everyone's mind, "Any ideas...?"

He took a drag and exhaled through his nose, the cigarette hanging from his lips as he answered, "Ain't my area... likely 'Kota might know somethin'... can run it by her in the morning on our way back."

"Our way back...?", Panam laughed and egged on her older choom, "You know something I don't?"

Jackson smiled wide for the first time in several hours, his eyes stuck on the relative carnage all around them, "I know your way, kid... just as soon 's all this is settled, 's back to the motel for a celebration. I'd reckon we earned a bunk, all things considered."

He was right, and Panam knew it as she looked back over the ridge at the column of smoke rising in the distance. Not that she ever would have turned them down anyway, but she owed them more than she could ever hope to repay. A place to sleep for the night and a few rounds of drinks were a small order in the grand scheme. She leaned in, placing a hand on his shoulder as she obliged him, "You know you're always welcome, Jax... you're one of us."

Their attention was pulled to the sounds of Jayce approaching, Bison stumbling in front and trying his damndest to stay vertical. He looked like hell, leaving Jackson to wonder just how bad Addie had it from the crash. Jayce finally took a load off, dropping to her knees as she gently set Addie against her and held her close.

A blind man could see the worry in Jackson's face, and Panam shoved him in their general direction, "Go... see to your people. We'll clean up here and be ready to head back."

Jackson nodded and smiled softly, locking eyes with Nel wandering aimlessly into the middle of the crowd as he said, "Thanks, Panam... holler if ya need me..."

--

[Some time later - Las Palapas Motel, Jackson Plains, the Badlands]

For a shit-hole motel in the middle of the desert, the nomads certainly could have done worse. A Raffen haunt hosting all manner of unpleasantness once upon a time, Panam had claimed the Las Palapas in 2078 after a bloody skirmish on the outskirts of Night City. It had served them well as a staging area for the better part of a decade. The motel itself was a single strip building, two stories tall and painted the same vomit yellow with rusted teal trim as the Sunset Motel on the other side of the City. On the grounds were also an office complex and a self-service garage. What was left of the parking lot had been cleared, a giant fire pit in the middle. And tonight, it burned bright.

Customarily, the Aldecaldos always celebrated either the night before a major job, or immediately after. For as fleeting as life was on the fringe, every drawn breath was a blessing, and every day they got to wake up and see the sun rise was a gift in and of itself. So even if they were beat to shit and bloody, the fire roared, the grills seared, and the music blared, smoke and laughter rising into the night sky. Hell, they had all earned it.

Jackson sat on the roof of the motel with his legs dangling over, drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette, and looking out over the dunes illuminated by the full moon overhead. He had a smile plastered on his face as he listened to the goings-on down below... as much as he wanted to join in the dance and drink, for the moment he was happy to revel in some peace and time to himself to sort his thoughts. There were so many things he felt... so many things he wanted to say, especially now.

Like all jobs, it wasn't without its complications. Sheila was little more than scrap metal at this point, left behind with everything else. Bison and Addie had some bumps and bruises, to say the least, but otherwise had fared well. Doc Strong couldn't even get Bison to sit down long enough for a check-up, the presence of young nomad trim exciting him like a shark smelling blood in the water. Thankfully, Addie was an easier... and smarter... patient, forgoing the festivities until she was properly dressed and cleared... and all of that after she finally woke up.

Above it all, Jackson was just relieved Jayce was okay. As mad as he was in the moment about her openly disobeying him, he had to admit that she handled herself well. Maybe it was finally time to let her branch out. He understood now that he was just so afraid of breaking his promise to Aiyana that he'd suffocated the poor girl for most of her childhood. He was committed to keeping her safe, but now he wondered if his usual ham-handed approach had stifled her from actually living her life. At least she was happy, confident and proud of who she was, and he was thankful to be a part of it.

On the other hand, he couldn't imagine what was going through Nel's mind at the moment, having to put down one of her own. He knew they would run into the Outlanders at some point, but the kid having to come face to face with what she had worked so hard to overcome... suffice to say he wasn't surprised nobody had seen her since they got to the motel. Still, he had her to thank for saving Addie. If it weren't for her claws ripping through the cockpit like paper... he couldn't even bear the thought of what might have happened.

He smiled again, his ears perking up to a distantly familiar Old World song playing from the speakers, the bright and jangly guitar melodies juxtaposed against a smooth baritone voice trailing up into the night...

We're caught in a trap...

I can't walk out...

Because I love you too much, baby....

There was only one person he knew with the gall to put Elvis Presley on the proverbial jukebox, and his suspicions were confirmed as the hollow rungs of the ladder reverberated along with discomforted feminine grunts. He laughed quietly to himself as Addie's wild mane poked up over the edge of the roof, climbing the last few steps before pulling herself up as she asked bashfully, "Mind some company...?"

"I can think o' none better...", Jackson admitted as he offered her a hand, "...should've known even a near-miss wit' death wouldn't keep ya from your turn at the shuffle..."

Addie laughed, wincing in pain slightly as she took a seat next to him, albeit carefully leaving some space between them as she pulled an unopened beer from one of her cargo pockets, popped the cap, took a swig, and said with a deep sigh, "It's an important song to me... special song for a special occasion."

"Always more a Johnny Cash man, myself...", Jackson joked as he looked over. Her forehead had a few adhesive strips closing a sizeable gash. She was covered in small cuts and heavy bruises along her neck and upper body peeking out from under her tank top, as well as her toned arms... and she looked beautiful. Jackson swallowed a knot in his throat as she teased him, "Of course you are... cowboy. The man in black is right up your alley..."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Addie gave an audible shiver, "A bit cold, innit?"

It was Jackson's turn to tease, albeit not without a tinge of self-deprecation as he looked at his left hand, "Guess ya lose out on 'at when half your body's already cold chrome..."

He knew exactly what she was getting at, and she knew that he knew. She stared daggers with a smirk as he nonetheless raised his 'ganic arm and ushered her over. She scooted in close, nestling into his warmth as he gently closed his arm around her, careful to avoid the bruises as he rubbed her shoulder.

They both drank their beers as another awkward silence befell them before Jackson asked, "So... important, how?"

"Mmm?", Addie mumbled inquisitively, her eyes closed and enjoying his warmth as she had nearly drifted off. Jackson followed up, "Always knew you's an Elvis fan... but what makes 's one... special?"

Addie looked up at Jackson for a second before following his gaze out over the desert, "It's a song about self-realization... about what matters most, and admitting to yourself that life's too damn short..."

She stopped herself, careful of how much to say, even though Jackson could tell she was bursting at the seams to just come out with it. He carefully egged her on as he mused, "Maybe this close call has ya thinkin' 'at signin' on wit' me was a bad idea after all? Hell, I wouldn't blame y—"

"Jackson...", she cut him off, her voice firm and uncompromising, "...shut... up... and kiss me already."

Jackson looked down in Addie's eyes... those deadly beautiful green eyes... finding her staring right back and biting her bottom lip, and he shifted to cup her cheek in his hand as he brought her close. Bit by bit, she moved up to meet him as their lips met, tenderly and passionately. Fireworks went off in Jackson's head, but he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass as they parted and he whispered, "Come to daddy..."

Addie laughed and wrapped her arm around Jackson's neck, pulling him closer and breathing him in as they kissed again. She longed to feel his body against hers as they reclined on the roof. Under the moonlight, they held one another and shared this timeless moment... together.

--

Downstairs, Jayce was having her fill of fun, reconnecting with some old friends among the clan and drinking entirely way too much... but she was happy. Happier than she had felt for a long time. Not that she didn't love the life they had on the base, but it was nice to cut loose and really get away... to mingle among faces she didn't see every fucking day.

Yet if she were being completely honest with herself, good times aside, there was only one place she really wanted to be right now... only one person she wanted to be with... and nobody had seen Nel since they got back. She was entirely silent on the ride out of the valley, and she ran to the showers just as soon as they pulled in. The nomad giving them a ride barely had the chance to shift his truck into park before Nel jumped out of her seat and disappeared.

Nobody could really blame her. Not only was she covered from head to toe in several other people's blood, but a good bit of it belonged to someone she loved... at one point the only family she ever had. It belonged to a young girl not unlike herself... a girl she swore she would always keep safe. In that, she failed.

So to say she wanted to scrub the gore and claret off of her and try to forget it all ever happened... the girl was in a bad way. And in Jayce's hazy stupor, she silently berated herself for not being there to help Nel through the rough patch. She decided then and there to do something about it, standing up and turning toward the main building. She clumsily walked forward, stumbling up the stairs and loosely clutching at the railing with one bruised and sore hand as she held what she could only assume was her tenth beer in the other bruised and sore hand. A smoldering cigarette butt was situated between her lips, barely anything left on it, and she tossed it over the railing as she cleared the stairs to the upper floor and turned. She nearly lost her balance, catching herself against a pillar as she took a moment to compose herself with a silly scoff.

She knew which room Nel was in, her eyes locked on the door as she firmed herself and took another step... and another. Her gait was awkward and affected, her feet dragging. It felt like with every step, she was getting more drunk, her own feet weighing her down. In her right mind, she would have left well enough alone, and a small part of her knew that in this particular moment.

As she approached the door, Jayce stumbled forward again, barely catching herself against the wall. Once she was stable again, she held up her hand and knocked gently, her voice slurring, "Nel... ya in there, choomba?"

There was no answer, but the door was cracked open. Through the small slit, she saw Nel curled up on the bed, her entire body trembling under a thin sheet as she held herself. Jayce hesitated for a moment before slowly pushing the door open and shifting herself across the threshold. She closed the door, careful to not let it slam shut as she leaned against the wall. Nel's ears perked up to her presence, but she otherwise gave no outward acknowledgement.

Jayce took another swig, finishing off the rest of the bottle as she swallowed hard and walked around the edge of the bed. Nel's face came into view, her eyes locked on the far wall with a thousand yard stare. Her face was wet, the sheets under her head soaked with tears and run-off from the shower. She knew Jayce was there, her eyes reacting to the movement in her periphery, but she maintained her focus on the wall and tried to shut it all out.

"I uh... I jus' wanted to say...", Jayce fumbled with her words, trying to force something coherent, "Ya did real good gettin' Addie out o' that mess... we couldn't have done it without ya."

Still no response, Jayce took her chance and walked over to the wall at which Nel was staring so intently. If the poor girl wouldn't look at her, she'd make herself seen. She ungracefully crashed back against the wall, sliding down as her butt hit the carpeted floor. Her knees were bent up and out as she rested her arms on them and tried to gauge the situation with a deep sigh. Nel was staring... not at her, but through her.

She tried again to put words together, but her mind was a muddled mess... and not even from the booze. Tonight was the first time... the first time in almost twenty years on this earth that Jayce had actually faced her own mortality. Up until now, she had never taken a life... and tonight, she took several. She sniffed up hard and shook her head as tears formed at the edges of her eyes, "I-I've never... k-killed anyone before tonight... 's this what it feels like?"

Nel blinked and shifted on the bed, finally locking eyes with Jayce, but still saying nothing. The corner of Jayce's mouth curled and she laughed dryly, "I mean... hell, I got no illusions 'bout what we've been doin' all these years, but... fuck!"

She turned her head and looked away, covering her nose and sniffing up again as her eyes burned. She shut them tight and tried to hold back the tears. She didn't know what to say, or how to say it, but she just wanted to pour her heart out to the only person that she felt might understand her in this moment. Her old man and the Doc were hardened veterans... as was Addie. Bison had seen his share of shit growing up in the clan before living in the pit of Hell itself.

In her mind, Nel was the only person who likely had been made to kill against her will. She looked back to her choomba on the bed and asked, "W-What was it like... f-for you?"

Nel closed her eyes, her face twisting as she shook her head. Jayce thought it a lost cause for a moment, shifting to stand up until the girl finally said, softly, "W-We were trained to fight... from the time we could stand on our own two feet."

Jayce sat back down, leaning in as Nel continued, reaching her hand up to the back of her neck and running her fingers over the brand scar, "They pitted us against each other, like animals... and we fought like animals, until..."

"W-What if you refused?", Jayce asked, eyes wide and curious. Nel sniffed up and answered, "If we disobeyed, we were starved, beaten, and raped... over and over again until we did as we were told."

Nel pulled her legs into her chest as the trembling worsened, "When I f-finally broke... when I g-gave in... I didn't feel anything. I just wanted to stop hurting... to stop them from hurting me."

Jayce sat and listened, her heart breaking for Nel with every word spoken, wishing she could make the pain stop. She wished she could make it so it had never happened. Her hands curled into fists as Nel kept going, "I swore after that, I'd never kill another one of my own... I swore I'd protect my sisters. Even if I couldn't stop the elders from coming for us..."

"A-And tonight, you...", Jayce put the pieces together, "...you killed one of your own for us... Nel, I..."

She wanted to say how sorry she was, but she knew all too well it wouldn't change anything. The feral girl in the sand dunes was dead. She tried to reach out as she asked, "W-What was her name?"

"It doesn't matter anymore...", Nel said coldly as she nestled into the mattress, "...I did my job... and now I have a warm bed and food. Nothing's changed."

That cut a lot deeper than Jayce was expecting, her face wearing the hurt plain as day. She was just about to defend the crew as being nothing like the Outlanders, but the worst was yet to come as Nel shifted in the bed and rolled over to face the other wall. Jayce assumed this was her not-so-subtle way of silently asking to be left alone... until she pulled the sheet down. She was completely naked, her supple ass poking out as goosebumps formed over the bare skin from the cold air. After a few seconds of laying like this, her voice broke as she said, "...and now you're here... just like them... here to take from me... why should it be any different...?"

Jayce's jaw was stuck open as she watched Nel roll over onto her stomach, arching her back to raise her hips. She shifted one arm up under her head, settling into the crook of her elbow and masking all but her eyes filled with pain and fear. With her other hand, she reached back and pulled her cheeks apart, exposing herself as she turned just enough for Jayce to see her lips peeking out.

Nel held this position as the trembling started again, her eyes darting all over. She honestly didn't know what would happen next, but the last thing she ever expected was to hear Jayce breaking down in tears. She shifted her head to look over, finding Jayce on her feet and utterly horrified at the entire situation.

"I-I... this... this isn't what I—", Jayce backed away slowly, now even more incapable of stringing together a coherent sentence. She raised her hands up as if to try and separate herself from whatever this was. As she crossed the room slowly, not wanting to further upset the poor girl, something overtook her and she blurted out, "Nel... I-I'm sorry!"

Jayce ran for the door, opening it and quickly slamming it behind her as she escaped the room. She stepped forward, grabbing the railing and trying to fight the feelings rising in her chest between heaving breaths. She was angry... so fucking angry for all the pain Nel had felt, the full gravity of the situation becoming clear. Her entire body recoiled and she dropped to her knees as tears ran down her face, her cries drowned out by the music and revelry down below. She blamed herself for dragging Nel into this. Even if Nel was the only reason that Addie was still alive, it was Jayce's fault for bringing her along. If only she had listened to her old man and just stayed put...

She turned and fell flat on her ass, her back against the railing as her head sagged between her knees. She brought her arms up to hide her face, hoping like hell that nobody else saw her as she punished herself. She was shaking from head to toe and sobbing through gritted teeth at all of it. She just wanted to love... to be loved... and yet all she had to show for it was more pain. Nel was deep in the void of her own suffering, and now it felt like there was nothing Jayce could do to help. In her own mind, she was useless, and she hated herself now more than ever.

Back in the dark room, Nel lay on the bed... alone, confused, and angry. She was torn between her old life and her new life, and she couldn't make sense of anything. Knowing Jayce was no longer in the room, she slowly curled into herself again and started to cry. She just wanted to be held, to feel the warmth of another person... and yet she had just driven away the only person she wanted. More than that, just as when she was a child, she wanted to stop hurting. She clawed at her own scalp as she rocked back and forth, a myriad of thoughts sweeping through her brain... but a single one of them screamed louder than all the rest...

...why doesn't she want me...?

--