4. Mordakus
4
MORDAKUS
I lead the way, checking our surroundings, my senses on high alert for any signs of danger. Eve trails behind me, her steps hesitant and slow. The creature - Vincent - is cradled in her arms, occasionally making soft noises.
"Pick up the pace," I growl over my shoulder. "We need to put as much distance between us and that compound as possible before dawn."
Eve quickens her steps, but it's clear she's struggling with the weight of her sack and the creature.
I suppress a sigh of frustration.
This is going to be a long journey.
After an hour of silent walking, I decide it's time to address the tricky situation. "You know, that creature is going to slow us down," I say, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
Eve clutches Vincent tighter. "He's not slowing us down," she insists, a hint of defiance in her voice. "I'm carrying him."
"And when we need to move quickly? Or silently? What then?" I challenge.
She bites her lip, clearly not having thought that far ahead. "I... I'll figure it out. Vincent stays with me. That was the deal."
I shake my head, exasperated. "This isn't a game, girl. Our survival depends on being able to move fast and stay undetected. That creature is a liability."
"He's not a liability!" Eve's voice rises, startling a few birds from a nearby dead tree. "He's my friend. My family. I won't leave him behind!"
I whirl around, fixing her with a hard stare. "Lower your voice," I hiss. "Do you want every demon and scavenger in a mile radius to hear us?"
Eve shrinks back, fear replacing the momentary defiance in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I just... I can't lose him too."
Something in her tone makes me pause. There's a depth of pain there that I recognize all too well. I soften my voice slightly. "Look, I get that you're attached to the thing. But you need to understand that out here, sentiment can get you killed. We need to be practical."
Eve nods, her eyes downcast. We continue walking in silence for a while, the only sounds are our footsteps and Vincent's occasional purr.
As the sun climbs higher in the sky, the heat becomes oppressive. I notice Eve starting to lag behind again, her breaths coming in short gasps.
"We'll take a short break," I announce, leading us to a small outcropping of rocks that provides some shade. "Five minutes. Drink some water."
Eve collapses gratefully, setting Vincent down beside her. The creature immediately starts exploring the rocks, batting at small pebbles.
I watch the animal's antics with a mixture of amusement and frustration. "So, are you going to tell me why this thing is so important to you?" I ask, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Eve takes a long sip of water before answering. "Vincent... he was there for me when I thought I…" She trails off, her eyes growing distant.
"Thought what?" I prompt, curiosity getting the better of me.
She shakes her head, as if clearing away painful memories. "When I was dying," she says, her voice cracking.
I absorb this information in silence, watching as Eve gently strokes the creature's fur. Part of me wants to tell her that clinging to the past is dangerous, that she needs to harden herself to survive in this new world. But another part - a part I thought long dead - understands her need for connection, for something to hold onto in the midst of chaos.
"Time's up," I say gruffly, pushing away the unwelcome surge of empathy. "We need to keep moving."
As we continue our journey, the landscape becomes more treacherous. Twisted metal and crumbling paths litter the ground, remnants of the world that was. I navigate the obstacles with ease, my years of experience kicking in automatically.
Eve, however, struggles to keep up. She stumbles frequently, her eyes more focused on protecting Vincent than watching where she's going.
"Watch your step," I warn, after her third near-fall. "This isn't a stroll through the woods. One wrong move and you could-"
My words are cut off by a sudden yelp of pain. Eve has tripped over a hidden piece of a gnarled root, twisting her ankle. She sits on the ground, cradling her foot, tears welling in her eyes.
"Dammit, just like that." I'm at her side in an instant, assessing the damage. "Can you stand?" I ask brusquely.
She tries to put weight on the injured foot and winces. "I... I don't think so," she admits, her voice trembling.
I curse under my breath. This is exactly the kind of delay we can't afford. "Right," I say, making a quick decision. "We need to find shelter and let that ankle rest. But we can't stay here in the open."
Without waiting for her response, I scoop Eve up in my arms, ignoring her startled gasp. "Hold onto that creature of yours," I instruct. "And keep your eyes peeled for any suitable shelter."
As I carry Eve through the wasteland, I can feel her tension gradually ease. Despite my earlier harshness, she seems to trust that I'll keep her safe. It's a responsibility I'm not sure I want, but one I can't bring myself to abandon.
After what feels like hours, we come across an old, crumbling building. It's dilapidated but still standing, offering a potential refuge for the night.
"This'll have to do," I mutter, carefully setting Eve down near the entrance. "Stay here while I check it out."
I do a thorough sweep of the building, checking for any signs of recent occupation or structural weaknesses. Satisfied that it's as safe as we're likely to find, I return to Eve.
"It's clear," I announce. "Let's get you inside and take a look at that ankle."
Once we're settled inside, I examine Eve's injury. It's swollen but doesn't appear to be broken. "You're lucky," I tell her. "It's just a sprain. But you need to stay off it for a day or two."
Eve nods, wincing as I wrap her ankle with a strip of cloth from my pack. "Thank you," she says softly. "For helping me. And for... for not making me leave Vincent behind."
I grunt in acknowledgment, uncomfortable with her gratitude. "Don't thank me yet. We still have a long way to go, and this little setback isn't going to make things any easier."
As night falls, I take up position near the entrance, preparing for the first watch. Eve curls up in a corner, Vincent nestled against her chest.
"Get some sleep," I tell her. "We'll head out at first light."
She nods, her eyes already heavy with exhaustion. "Mordakus?" she murmurs, half-asleep.
"What?"
"I'm glad you found me. Even if I'm your prisoner."
Her words catch me off guard, stirring emotions I've long suppressed. I watch as she drifts off to sleep, her face peaceful despite the harsh realities of our situation.
As the night wears on, I find my thoughts drifting to the demon warband I know is out there somewhere. The last reports I'd heard placed them heading in this direction. It's only a matter of time before our paths cross if we don't keep moving.
I look over at Eve's sleeping form, a frown creasing my brow. She's so naive, so unprepared for the brutalities of this world. Part of me admires her determination, her ability to hold onto hope in the face of overwhelming odds.
But another part knows that such innocence is a luxury we can't afford.
As the first hints of dawn appear on the horizon, I make a decision. Starting today, I'm going to toughen her up. If she's going to survive out here - if we're going to survive - she needs to learn how to defend herself, how to make the hard choices.
It won't be easy, and she'll probably hate me for it. But better she hate me and live than cling to her innocence and die.