Leave Me Behind

One of the soldiers on the hostile squad nudges me playfully and says something I’m not paying attention to. He’s grown fond of me over these past few weeks, but I can’t even remember his fucking name.

I only know his gear number, Eight-Seven-Four.

He’s the air force comms personnel on the hostile squad and has been assigned to be my partner during the second mock mission. We were ordered to remain “inactive” in our pursuits up until the invasion day. At least I was, and it’s driving me crazy.

I could’ve shot Bradshaw ten different times already. My finger has lingered more than once over the trigger this week with an open shot. But I remain patient, waiting for him and their new marksman to be fair game.

If Malum thinks I’m just going to forget all the shit they did to me, then they are dumbasses.

Eren’s bonding exercises definitely worked, because I’ve felt nothing short of betrayal during this time without them.

Having to watch them laugh and get along with my replacement has been eating me up inside. There have been times during the night watch when I think Bradshaw can see me through the underbrush. He’ll look out into the woods right at me and stare numbly while my replacement talks his ear off. He never responds. He only listens and looks into the dark. For me, I think.

This second mission isn’t in the same location as the first, but we’re still somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, north an extra hour.

Bradshaw looks like he hasn’t been sleeping, I note while I nod to Eight-Seven-Four’s endless chit-chat. I’ve already found his entry point and where he’ll be slinking through the training field to extract hostages. I hate that I notice, but I do. He looks disheveled. He never looked this fucked up when I was his second.

I force the part of me that cares about him aside and brew on how I’m going to get my vengeance on him. I shut my eyes.

“Do you know how to break a man? I mean really break him.” I remember Jenkins’s words clearly. I was still newer to the dark forces then, eighteen.

I shook my head. “No.”

Jenkins guided my hand across his chest and placed it over his heart. “You make him trust you, make him need you, and then you take it all away.”

I was skeptical. “How?”

“Find his weakness, no matter what it may be and extinguish it.” Jenkins’s soft blond hair was smoothed back with his sweat after our training session. I stared at him longingly. He was perfect, always so stoic and wise.

My hollow heart shifted uncomfortably. “Even if it’s a person? The thing that needs to be extinguished?”

Jenkins’s green eyes darkened and a cruel smile spread over his lips. “Especially if it’s a person. Take away what he loves and you’ll break him irrevocably. You’re heartless, Gallows. That’s why I’m taking you under my wing. No one gets it quite like you and me.”

I blink the memory away and force my attention back to the scope. Jenkins taught me many things, but I never got to ask him one question. What if the man is already broken? What then?

Bradshaw has already had his light extinguished. He moves like a ghost, uncaring and ready for the slaughter. He feels nothing when he takes a life. I’m certain he wouldn’t blink twice if it came down to killing me.

Eight-Seven-Four looks through his binoculars and mutters distances to me. I ready my rifle for a mock massacre. There is one man I need to take care of before Bradshaw, though. The marksman who they think can replace me.

“He’s there, up on the eastern ridge at two o’clock,” Eight-Seven-Four says quietly, muttering the coordinates for me. I find the marksman quickly and grin. It’s almost not fair to them. He isn’t even looking in our direction. His cover is almost undetectable, I’ll give him that.

“Eight-Seven-Four, I can take the field from here. Watch our backs so we don’t get our throats slit.” He nods and turns to watch our flank side. Bradshaw taught me that lesson and I won’t soon forget it.

I take a deep breath and pull the trigger. Red powder erupts on the marksman’s side. He rolls in pain and I bark out a laugh so loud it startles my partner. He doesn’t say anything though as he holds his position. At least he can listen to orders without bitching about it.

I guide my scope to the field below and find Bradshaw quickly. He’s moving like a panther, smoothly and with lethal intent. He hasn’t had a chance to fell any of my squadmates yet. I take a few more seconds than I need, savoring his ignorance of what’s about to hit him. He doesn’t even know he’s vulnerable without his marksman watching his back.

“Fuck. You,” I say slowly as I pull the trigger.

The bullet hits him straight in the center of his helmet and his head is thrown backward with the intensity of the strike.

The others freeze. Ian and Jefferson look at each other incredulously, while Harrison brings his hands to his mouth in horror. Bradshaw’s comrades watch the plume of red powder that rises from his helmet like it’s the single worst thing they’ve ever witnessed.

Their precious, lethal soldier is down.

“Holy fucking shit! Did you hit Bones?” Eight-Seven-Four says in disbelief, watching through his binoculars.

I chuckle and mutter, “Yeah, should I hit the rest of them while they’re standing around like cute little ducks?” He doesn’t respond before my next bullet flies and hits Ian in the ass. I have to suck in my lower lip to keep the laugh from bubbling up. I fire off again and nail him in the neck. We can hear the faint aftershocks of his scream from here.

Both squads seem to remember themselves and attempt to get back into the mission. I pull the trigger again. Pete hits the ground like a downed bird when I hit him in the balls and again in the chest.

Reload.

Harrison in the face. Oops. Then Jefferson right in the center of his spine as he runs for cover.All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

I leave Eren alone, seeing as he’s laughing his ass off at his own stupid squad.

“Think they’ll accept me now?” I ask Eight-Seven-Four, and he looks at me with raised brows and a newfound respect. Why can’t it be this easy to impress the others? He looks at me like I’m death itself.

“I can’t believe they didn’t to begin with.” He swallows hesitantly. I can see the fear growing in his eyes as he studies me closely. “How many people have you killed, Bunny?”

Why does everyone ask me that? I shake my head. “I don’t know. Too many.” Jenkins taught me not to keep track.

He’s quiet for a beat.

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

I look at him with cold, weary eyes, saying numbly, “No.”

His face fills with horror and I know then that he’s still relatively new to the underground world. He’s on the dark air force side. He doesn’t slit throats and shoot people often. He has his missile team waiting on the other side of the radio for his coordinates.

“Look, at the end of the day, it’s them or you. Them or your squadmates. I learned the hard way. So don’t let it be you or your squad,” I say somberly, thinking of my mistakes and the price I paid. Jenkins’s warm smile that was stolen from me and the ache I’ve felt in my heart ever since.

“Oh.” He shudders. After a beat of silence he mumbles, “Is it true that Riøt Squad used black bullets?” A rumor that literally everyone in the dark forces talks about. If a body is found with a black bullet, they are marked as traitors. If their bodies are ever found, that is. Jenkins did enjoy making sure some were never found.

I let my eyes fall on the young soldier again. “Yeah. It’s true.”

He goes white as a sheet and swallows.

I look back through my scope and find Bones still on the ground. A flutter of malice spreads through me seeing him that way.

Don’t tell me he can’t take a hit from a fucking powder ball.

A cruel smile spreads over my lips.