Savage Me. . .

Christiana has gotten more then what she's asked for when she joined a mission to a dead city, where life is on the egde, and where hungry dogs hunt the streets. Christiana must complete her mission but would that but an end to her mission she set for her self?

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2. DAY TWO, Dreams Are Better Then Memories

‘You can always sit out you know’ Lewis said brushing his soft black hair away from his eyes. ‘You don’t have to prove anything by paying with a sore leg’ he was looking out at the soccer field cramped with eager players who would do anything to score a goal.  
   ‘No’ Christiana says sucking air through her mouth then closing it, ‘I have to do this’ she says with determination that was beyond an eight year olds years. She too was looking at the field with a soft almost dreamy like expression. Watching as a boy named James kicked hard at the other teams players leg like it was something that deserved a kick. The young boy limped across the field to the coach, which was blowing so hard on the whistle his face turning tomato red. ‘You know, I have to do this’ she says almost to herself but she knew Lewis had heard her.
     Lewis was shaking his head like you would if there was a spider on you. He stopped, than looked at Christiana’s pale face which he was sure just a moment ago was red from the heat. Finally he said tentatively ‘no, I don’t think I do’ he studding her squinted eyes focusing only on the field. Her dark hair up in a bun like she was a ballerina, but Lewis knew she wasn’t the sweet gentle little girl she was before, but a tough strong girl who could survive anywhere. Her shorts were a light blue and her top a dark purple, which was covered in spots of dirt from digging a hole in the backyard for her pet duck; it was found dead this morning.
    Lewis handed Christiana her black bottle. She took it out of his had without looking at it and squirted some in her mouth. She gave it back to him, this time she looked at him. He knew she was about to say something, and it was what he always wanted to know, why do you do it? Why do you have to be the best all the time? Prove you’re the best? He hated it when Christiana always had to be on the top; there to catch the glory.
    ‘You wouldn’t understand it’ her reply shocking him, like it would have if she had thrown a bucket of ice water at him. Sometimes it was like talking to a grown up, you didn’t have control over the conversation like you do with a kid; they get distracted so easily, you could steer them in any direction.
     Not Christiana, Lewis thought, you couldn’t steer Christiana.
    ‘If you explain to me’ Lewis said ‘I will understand’ he didn’t use the tone you use for a small child, he said it like he would to an adult. She smiled at him, her smile wasn’t a forced one but one that she couldn’t help but express and that made Lewis smile.
    ‘I have to do this because . . .’ she mumble, no longer smiling up at him. She fiddled at her shorts; twisting them into a flower like she always did when she didn’t want to do something. ‘It’s for me’ she said all too quickly.
     Christiana was right, Lewis didn’t understand what she meant; to him she was a puzzle that gets bigger with every desstion she makes. He thought once he knew what made her like this; that her father leaving her when she was small had something to do with it. Lewis was sure she created a shield that he had thought stoped the pain of seeing her dad leaving her. That it was going to slowly brake away soon; showing him a fragile child that needed help; his help. But as the shield held strong over the years, he was forced to think it was never a shield; that the tough Christiana was always how she was . . . 
    ‘Christiana? Ready?’ Miss Hayley’s voice snapped Lewis out of the depths of his mind. She stood next to Christiana, looking at her bruised and scratched up leg with a pitiful worry. Don’t look at her like that, Lewis thought angrily, she did this herself, but all he said was ‘You don’t have to do this’.
    Without replying Christiana stood up from the bench and walked to the field with Miss Hayley. Lewis was left steering out to the green grass and the gigantic trees that surrounded the oval, he had an empty feeling of anger, he didn’t know why. Was the anger directed at Christiana’s father? At himself for letting her feel that she had no one to turn to? All he knew was that he had to get out of there; he couldn’t watch Christiana do this to herself, not when he sat there doing nothing.

 

Christiana had just packed the last of her equipment into her bag when a noise came from behind the pink curtains. It wasn’t bright enough to see clearly but it was enough that she could make out the shadow behind the curtains was a dog.
     Christiana knew about dog’s that left without food, they become wild, uncontrollable, dangerous animals that will attack anything to satisfy their hunger.
      Even her.
      Cristiana hand reached for the hand gun in her coat and pulled it out, careful not to make a sound. Using her other hand she picked up her backpack and slides it on her shoulders, still eyeing the shadow as it moved around the curtains.
      Still keeping in mind that dogs are faster than humans, Christiana climbs on the bed; it rolled a bit as she slid her leg up on the bed. The dog stoped. Moving again, it makes a faint tapping sound of its paws connecting with the cold tiled floor.   
     Christiana’s heart was hammering at her chest and she was sure the dog could smell the fear radioing off her as she holds out her gun, keeping the gun straight. Pointing it at the dog as it comes around the curtain Christiana takes a deep breath before pressing the trigger.
    A loud bang echoes through the room, the dog yelps. Panicking, Christiana presses down on the trigger one more time before opening her eyes.  The blood that was slowly drained from under the curtains confirmed the dog was dead.
     Christiana stayed there for a moment and when she could finally move again she slipped off the bed lowering her shacking hand with the gun. She didn’t want to look but she was curious and that felt stronger than her slowing beat of her heart. She couldn’t get enough air through her mouth as she moved the curtain out from the blood that leaked out of the dog. 
     As soon as her eyes landed on the dog she wanted to look away but couldn’t. Christiana’s eyes scanning the leathery skin and the bones that stuck out painfully and stopped at the two bullets that landed in-between its brown eyes. Christiana waited for it to move, and shake its tail. But it sat there stiff and unmoving. Christiana moved to wipe the silent tears away, but stopped. She shouldn’t be crying, the dog was going to attack her and she had every right to kill that dog, Christiana told herself over and over again as she sat on the floor near the blood sobbing. Christiana hadn’t cried once in twelve years, not even when Lewis didn’t come back on the flight when he was supposed to.
     ‘Enough, Christy! Enough’ she whisper as she got up and walked out the door and down four flights of stairs.

 

* * *

     The tracking device in Cristiana’s right hand was silent and in her left hand the gun was griped so tightly that she could feel the cold metal through her gloves. The wind she noticed had stopped blowing blocked out by the tall buildings that she has become use to.
     Beep. Beep. Beep.
     Christiana stoped. Where had that come from? She looked around, gun pulled out and ready to fire.
      Beep. Beep. Beep.
      Then followed by a vibrating Christiana realised what it was. Putting her gun back in her pocket she took off her backpack and searched for it. She found it.
The Gmap3.
      Taking it out and picking up her backpack and sliding it on both of her shoulders, Christiana started to walk over the bridge, weaving through the abandon pale and burned cars. She didn’t stop but slowed her walking once she passed the bridge too look at the glass screen of the Gmap3, holding the steal framed edges of the glass.
      The screen was filled with a red print reading ‘MESSAGE’ across it. Using her right hand she balanced the glass on her palm, and with her free hand Christiana clicked on the open message button. The voice that filled her ears was female and one Christiana never heard before. ‘If your hearing this then you have completed part one of your mission’ the woman’s voice should have had a comforting effect on Christiana, but it didn’t. Hearing someone else’s voice should have told Christiana that she was doing just what she was supposed to, instead it make Christiana’s skin prickle. Stop it, Christiana told herself, this isn’t what you should be worried about. The women’s voice was sharper, tightening Christiana’s stomach ‘Part two of your mission is to locate your squad’ the woman’s voice continued ‘you will then be given farther instructions’ the voice stoped. Stunning Christiana, she thought the women would at least give her coordinates to where her squad would be.
      Beep.
      A map appeared on the screen, covering the whole of the glass. Small green dots appeared on the screen. Christiana knew what they were, it was them. Her squad. She could feel her stomach loosening up.  She needed to see them, to hear their laughs again. She didn’t know until now how much they meant to her, they were part of her family now. Christiana was always the leader, the one to take control but just like all leaders she needed them just as much as they need her.
     The five green dots from all different directions filled the map, all equal distains apart. Christiana wondered which one of them was Sash or if she was even chosen for this mission. The last time she had seen Sash was an hour before she was sent home before going to a direct camp to gather equipment for this mission, then hopping on a helicopter which sent her here; the middle of a dead and abandon city. Christiana knew she could possibly be meeting up with a squad from a different camp, but there had to be at least one other Squad 8 member. She was relying on hope.
      Christiana knew as she walked, that they all had to meet up in the centre of the green dots. Zooming in on the Gmap3 she saw that they would all be meeting up at an old shipping container, just next to a steel manufacture building.  The building was completely destroyed; the only thing left was a door with crumbs of bricks lying uselessly beside it. Feeling the need to vomit, Christiana calculated the distance and time it would take to get there. She had to head exactly south to meet up with her squad. Three days, she calculated it would take if she ran for as long as she could. Putting away the Gmap3 and taking out of her pocket a red palm size compass, Christiana started to run a slow pace. Her hood pushed back from the wind that had quietly picked up, her soft back hair whipped across her face leaving a sting behind, like a bee sting would. Her backpack thumped against her back, making her think strait away of Gab, he hit hard on any ones back if they somehow managed to bet his well-trained quad at a game of capture the flag. He properly would show up on this mission as well as James, who could bet any well-trained squad any time of the week without even trying.
     Christiana remember running with James in training, he always had a smile on his face when he’d seen her. He was like a brother to her, someone who could always make smile when she hadn’t done good enough to pass her training program, which most of the squad had failed but just like her was given a second chance. James would train with her every day until she passed, like always he was there for her, much like Lewis. Christiana’s stomach constricted, she couldn’t think of him. Not now. She pushed away the guilt that frogged her mind, just as she did with the thought of him. Her mind had to be on the mission. The mission Christiana told herself.
     Christiana passed an old book store; the widow like most buildings was smashed. Books spread thickly across the floor, eaten away mostly by the weather and rats; their droppings were all the evidence Christiana needed, she had watch a documentary about them. They carried around disease that were harm full to humans, they built their nest with anything they found, in this case torn pages. Rat she knew could live anywhere, just like crochets.
    As the sun came down so did the temperate, turning Christiana’s haggard breathes into buffs of frost. Drying her throat, and turning her lungs into pockets of ice. She didn’t slow her pace though, she pushed on; Christiana was too exhausted to stop. Her legs put one foot in front of the other sending cracks of pain through her legs and lungs. Christiana wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. She need to push herself just like her mentors had taught her, to push yourself you needed to have something to keep you going; something that you know you want and needed desperately.
     The souls of her feet began to hurt; her face and lips began to burn. She wasn’t about to give in and let the pain bring her down, just like the wind had those buildings. Her vision prickled with dots as she rounded the next corner; breathes went quicker and deeper. Christiana knew she would pass out if she didn’t stop.
     Her mind was clear, but not her vision and in her mind she could see Lewis. Lewis sanding near the door of her house, dressed similar to what she was wearing, his hair matching. He looked desperate to spill out whatever that was making him miserable, his expression changing his whole face, it made him somehow look older, more tormented. Christiana in her mind was running towards him, pain forgotten. Lewis held out his arm to wrap around her, but as she got closer he got smaller, further away. He was walking away from her; he dropped his hands and turned to run. No! Christiana screamed you said you would come back! Then suddenly she wasn’t running to Lewis, she was back in the city running around the next corner where a huge building had crumbled half on the road almost blocking her way. Debris scatted the road like the books the book shop; little and big chunks of concrete and metal. Christiana ran around it feeling tears and black dots blur her vision. She was running too fast missing her footing and tripped over, hitting her head hard on the ragged road. Her whole body went numb, and all Christiana could feel was her heart beating way too fast against her chest. No! She cried before blacking out I’m not giving in.



 

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