Page 5 of Beast in the Badlands
“Keep moving,” I tell myself, panting now as his weight drags me down. “You’re not going to let him die here.”
Every few feet, I glance over my shoulder as if expecting an ambush—his awakening should terrify me. But each time I look back, he lies still, battered and broken. It tugs at something inside me—an unexplainable need to help this creature that shouldn’t even exist.
“C’mon, Emry,” I push through gritted teeth, pulling harder as roots snag at my boots. “Just a little farther.”
When we finally reach the old abandoned med outpost nestled in the foothills, relief floods through me. The place has been forgotten for years—just like most of this war-ravaged planet.
Inside, dust coats everything like a shroud—a ghost of what once was a refuge for the wounded and lost.
I haul him into the only functioning room left—a stark white table sits in stark contrast to the decay surrounding it. Carefully, I slide him off the sled and onto the table; he flops against it with an unsettling thud.
“Okay,” I breathe heavily as reality sinks in again. “Let’s see what kind of mess you are.”
I start working on stabilizing his bleeding wounds, feeling a rush of adrenaline drown out any remaining fear. The shrapnel embedded in his legs demands attention first; there’s no hesitation now—just focus.
As I wrap bandages around his thighs tight enough to stem the flow of blood but gentle enough not to cause more pain, I can’t help but steal glances at his face—the sharp angles soften in sleep or unconsciousness; there’s something almost delicate about him.
“What have you done to deserve this?” I murmur aloud as if he can hear me.
A part of me wonders if I've gone insane for caring about a Reaper while another part clings tightly to this irrational sense of duty—the remnants of who I was before all this chaos unfolded.
I set a solar lantern on the table beside him; its warm glow fights against encroaching shadows and casts flickering patterns on his face.
“Guess it’s just you and me now,” I whisper into that silence filled with uncertainty and tension.
My eyes stay locked on his chest as it rises and falls unevenly—a rhythm both fragile and fierce under these dire circumstances.
“I don’t even know your name,” I admit softly while settling into a nearby chair, weary from exhaustion yet unwilling to leave him alone.
Minutes stretch into hours as twilight descends outside—the weight of decisions hangs heavy on my shoulders while anticipation builds in my chest like an unsteady tide.
As darkness envelops us both, I'm left watching over this unexpected stranger—my thoughts swirling around what comes next amidst an uneasy truce between survival and compassion lurking within these broken walls.
CHAPTER 5
RENN
Pain lances through my legs, waking me from a black abyss. I jerk, but my body betrays me—frozen, every muscle screaming in protest.
The room is dim and oppressive. Shadows cling to the half-ruined walls, burn scars tracing patterns like a map of despair. Broken lights flicker overhead, illuminating the remnants of scavenged tech strewn about. I blink against the dull glow, trying to orient myself.
Bandages wrap around my thighs—tight, clean. Someone patched me up. The thought ignites a primal fury; who had the audacity to help a Reaper?
A soft buzz catches my attention. A drone drifts by, ancient and barely functional, held together by what looks like spit and luck. It hovers near me before shifting away with a slight wobble.
I test my limbs again—still locked in place. My heart races as I mentally prepare for the worst: another faction out for blood or some twisted trap designed to lure me into a false sense of security.
I focus on the figure slumped in the chair across the room.
Human. Dirt-smeared skin. Freckles dot her cheeks like stars against a night sky. A med bag clings to her chest, a makeshift armor in this wreckage of a world.
My pulse quickens, a wild rhythm echoing in my ears. Why is she here? Why am I alive? I should be dead—crushed under metal or lost in the void.
But instead, I’m staring at her, and that scent wraps around me like a memory just out of reach—something I've been chasing across countless stars, through battles and despair.
She stirs slightly, and my heart skips. Not from fear but from an ache deep in my chest, a sensation foreign yet undeniable. I don’t understand this pull toward her.
I’ve faced enemies that wanted to tear me apart, yet none have ever left me feeling this way—vulnerable, exposed.
