Rontu moved quickly between the crude tents of the camp, the night sky easily shrouding him in a cloak of darkness thanks to his dark armor. The orange and fluorescent yellow of Serratia gave her a slight bit of camouflage against the colorful vinyl of the nearby tents, but she moved quick enough to not be seen against the black sky. Shen stood out the most with the bright white, yet somehow he was the quietest of them all. His feet didn’t make a sound as they quickly shuffled behind Rontu. Were he not in on the plan, Rontu would have never known he was there.

The sounds of partying and celebration roared through the night, a huge bonfire lighting up most of the eastern side of the camp near where Wall’s container was stationed. Serratia hadn’t explained why her former allies were in such good spirits, but Rontu didn’t feel there was much reason in it. With their captors being distracted by drinking, fighting, and off-key singing, it only proved helpful in covering their escape.

The group paused as the Gemmer came into sight, Rontu holding a small flashlight against his palm. Shen double-checked the corners of the tents they had just passed for any stray raiders wandering the camp, giving a small thumbs up after two men passed out while fighting over a bottle of liquor. Rontu clicked the button on the flashlight four times. On, off. On, off. The light was barely visible against his hand, but if someone was looking for it they would spot it.

That person was Archie, the large man gracelessly running to the side door of the Gemmer. Serratia had graciously given him the keys, which he used to unlock the latch on the door. Cracking the door open enough that he could step inside, he quickly vanished into the vehicle. The three Shutok waited patiently, watching the door for any sort of movement. Archie’s job was to make sure that there weren’t any stowaways hiding out in the Gemmer. The last thing they needed was some surprise raider causing havoc as they made their escape.

A burly arm popped out of the cracked door, giving the group a strong thumbs-up before pulling it shut. Step one was complete.

Shen cleared his throat softly, leaning close. “I am going to go find my sword. I imagine it will be in the leader’s quarters. I will be back in time,” he whispered, darting away in a flash before the other two could argue.

Serratia turned to face Rontu, crouching low. The two shared a silent look at each other before they began to backtrack. The pit in Rontu’s stomach only grew with each tent they passed, the dangers of being caught weighing on his mind. It wasn’t his own safety he was worried about, but Erie and Cara’s.

“Do we really need that remote to disengage the collars?” he asked Serratia. “I have tools and stuff in the Gemmer we can maybe use.”

She shook her head as they stopped in front of the tent where they had been held. She poked inside, checking on the two women. Only the blinking lights of their collars could be seen, but the slow pattern of green lights indicated that they were still breathing at the least. When she exited she offered an explanation.

“They’re tamper-proof. The more we sit there and fuck with them, the more likely they are to go off,” she said, motioning Rontu into his old prison.

Rontu gulped, circling around to the opposite side of the crate that the two girls were still resting in. His natural curiosity wanted to push the question further, but common sense was already barking in his ear about what she meant by that.

Serratia leaned towards Erie, her armor dissolving for a moment as she whispered into her ear.

“Hey. Can you lay down for me? Bring Cara down with you and be very quiet,” Serratia asked her, fumbling a bit as she helped the pair get settled back into the crate.

“Why don’t we just carry them?” Rontu asked her, watching the blinking lights slowly descend into the depths. “Seems kind of messed up to put them back in the crate.”

Serratia paused before closing the lid over the pair. “Can you handle both of them then? We can only risk one trip.”

“One for sure, but definitely not both. Why can’t you carry one of them?” he asked her, confused.

She quietly latched the crate shut, turning to look in Rontu’s direction despite the fact that she couldn’t see a lick of him. “Because I’ll kill them.”

Rontu made a small grunt in frustration. “What?”

“My armor. If I try to carry them there’s no way they’ll survive.”

“Then don’t use any of the blades?”

“I can’t. It’s reactive,” Serratia answered, the sound of said armor forming over her flesh until the faint glow of her visor was visible once more. “It just happens.”

Rontu didn’t reply for a few seconds, letting out a soft sigh. “Alright. Alright fine, we’ll just take the crate straight to the Gemmer, meet up with Shen, then nab that remote?”

The bladed visor bobbed up and down, an obvious nod from the woman. She stepped across the tent, opening a few different boxes and rummaging through them. “Here. We’ll use this as a distraction,” she said, tossing a small tube towards Rontu. He caught it in his palm, looking over it carefully. Somehow being a Shutok gave him better night vision, even if it wasn’t by much.

“Is this dynamite?!” he asked her.

“Yeah. Why?”

“You guys keep your prisoners in a tent full of explosives?”

“We didn’t keep prisoners before you guys.”

“That’s reassuring,” Rontu said sarcastically before tucking the explosive into a small slot near his waist. “Are we good?”

“I think so. Grab the other side and be careful not to knock them around too much,” Serratia ordered, grabbing one side of the crate and lifting it with Rontu.

The pair made their way out of the tent, trying to weave through the maze of raider homes as they carried the clunky crate. It wasn’t that it was too heavy for Rontu, but the wide shape and precious contents inside made navigating with it stealthily a much harder task than he originally thought. He turned his focus to shuffling his feet in a way that wouldn’t knock his knees against the side, stifling as much sound as he could as he followed Serratia’s silhouette in front of him.

Each step brought a strange sense of anxiety to Rontu’s intuition though. Something felt off as they reached the halfway mark. The air had grown still, the sounds of cheering and laughter having died off at some point far before either of them had noticed it.

“Hey, Serratia-”

A thundering flash of light blasted their eardrums, the sounds of multiple floodlights and buggies being turned on to bathe their location in a blinding light. Rontu felt his vision automatically adjust to the change, like a pair of sunglasses had been placed over his eyes.

Serratia growled under her breath, her hands gripping the edge of the crate with enough force that it began to crimp. “Dammit…”

Wall’s large frame could be made out, a sizable gathering of his newly minted lackeys flanking his sides as well as behind Rontu and Serratia. Rontu couldn’t make out the expression on the man’s face, but judging by the trap they had just sprung he assumed it to be a cocky one.

“I know you think you’re smarter than old Wall here. That might even be true to an extent, but do you know what the enemy of smarts is?” the gruff man yelled at them.

Neither Rontu nor Serratia answered him, both of them diverting their maximum focus to finding some sort of escape from the dire situation.

“Predictability,” Wall said, shoving one of his hands into his pocket and pulling out a small device. The very remote that they had planned to steal. “You might’ve had Horn fooled for a bit, but I knew better. I told him it was a bad idea to let you hang around.”

Serratia finally turned her attention to him as she watched the remote dangle from a wire. “I’m sure you did, you’ve never really liked me.”

Wall chuckled to himself, turning the device over in his hands as he smiled. “Ain’t it kinda funny how technology changes over time? Back when I was a kid, collars like that were just to show ownership. Now they’ve got all sorts of fancy tricks and gadgets.”

Rontu watched Serratia’s fingers dig deeper into the lip of the crate, slicing through it like butter.

“Tracking,” she finally said. “You asshole.”

Wall let out a loud laugh, holding his stomach as he twirled the remote between his fingers. “I told you I had you on a leash, didn’t I? You just kept pulling on it, exactly like I knew you would.”

This was getting worse by the second. Every movement of the remote made Rontu’s stomach do a flip. Knowing that Erie and Cara’s lives were in such careless hands made him feel ill. He watched as Wall took a few steps forward, the circle of raiders also approaching ever so slightly each time. He knew he could fight some of them, but protecting two hostages who also happened to be wearing live bombs made any thoughts of fighting his way out of this dissipate rather quickly.

Wall stopped about thirty feet from the pair, raising his hand up into the air. Rontu could finally see the man’s ugly face, the sneer of dominance he wore as he bested two people who he knew would destroy him otherwise.

“So let’s start with-”

A shrill, high-pitched whistle ripped through the night sky, freezing everyone in place like a cold front. Wall stopped mid-step, his posture bristling as he stared forward. Raiders shakily looked at their surroundings, holding their weapons close like sheep who were suddenly startled. Rontu himself felt the creeping dread overtake him, turning to look at Serratia.

She stared back.

A sudden force ripped the crate from his hands as a shadowy figure cut off his view of Serratia, replacing it with a mass of crimson feathers. The container crashed to the floor, holding steady against the creature’s weight as a pair of clawed talons the size of tires gripped onto it. Four wings unfurled as that shrill whistle pierced Rontu’s eardrums once more, spanning wider than a school bus.

The monster let out a rumbling gurgle, saliva running down its front. A loud snap echoed into the night sky as its beak split apart vertically, the Honno almost hacking and coughing as it forced its esophagus to extend from its neck. With the twitchiness of a hummingbird, it began to track one of Wall’s men who had begun to flee.

Sheeenk!

A slug of hardened bone fired from its mouth-cannon, blasting into the poor soul and stapling him to the side of the buggy he had desperately tried to escape to. Rontu stood petrified, only able to watch as the creature began firing mercilessly into the crowd of people.

Sheeenk!

Sheeenk!

Sheeenk!

They stumbled over one another, desperately trying to get into their buggies or the safety of one of the reinforced containers. Even then, their refuge did little to protect them from the projectiles. In the distance though, he could see Wall standing his ground. The raider’s eyes were ablaze with fear and righteousness as he raised his arm high into the sky.

And then he pushed the button.