III: The Soldier and the Fairy Queen: Red Eve

XXVIII: Under Attack

March 13th, 2017 - 28 days after Sunny's abduction
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She stared down at her white skeleton fingers tipped with purple, gripping the stool as a soldier bound her corset. The steel and ceramic frame already fit closely around her thin chest and torso and made her suck in a painful breath when it tightened further. The soldier tied the cords behind her back and grunted for her to straighten. She obeyed, snatching a glimpse of herself in the skinny mirror that hung on the door of the training room. Her hair hung in loose waves, as if it felt too weak to curl. Her sleeves for this mission were pirate-style, probably to hide knives up her sleeves instead of displaying them on her thighs.

She tried to smile at her reflection, but her blue lips wouldn't obey. The color of her skin was the only evidence of the ice she had just come out of. Paper white cheeks, shadows the color of blueberry juice under her eyes, forget-me-not blue lips, and baby pink burn lines, flushed to a darker red. She let her eyes dart to the weapons the soldier held out to her.

She grabbed them before the soldier could take them back. She watched the dusky-skinned woman carefully as she shoved the gun into the one holster at her hip, judging by its weight that it had a full magazine. She slipped the knives into her sleeves and--

The room shook and cement dust drifted down from the ceiling. An entire corner fell and smashed into pebbles on the floor a meter away from her feet. She heard the explosion that echoed like a bird call. The door to the training room flew open, Winter, also in mission get-up, and the woman standing behind it.

"We're being attacked!" Winter exclaimed.

The woman frowned and raised her eyebrow dismissively at Winter, "I wouldn't put it that strongly." The woman looked back at her, her dark eyebrow falling but the contempt staying, "You and Zima will dispose of them while we pack away the rest of our things. There will be someone left behind to pick you both up."

"Yes, ma'am," she responded without hesitation.

Another explosion rocked the building. The dark-eyed woman sighed, "They're on the west side of the building now." She stepped out into the hallway and pointed down it, "That way. Third door on the left will lead you up. Make sure you're out in seven minutes. Go!" She made a broad sweeping motion with her hands.

Winter started running down the hallway and she bolted after him. The thrum of blood in her veins excited her, and she found herself smiling at the thrill of motion. Until she slammed into Winter, that is.

His broad metal shoulder met her face with a metallic clang. Blood filled her mouth and nose. Her vision wobbled and cleared. She groaned and pinched her nose, thankful that it wasn't obviously broken. She heard deep, warbled words. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Winter asked in quiet Russian from behind his mask.

She let go of her nose and wiped the blood on her sleeve, "Yes, yes. You reminded me--."

The curved ceiling fell like an avalanche. The weight of a slab of concrete knocked her head and crushed her back, but she regained her wits in time to hold it up. The rock clawed the cloth and skin off of her shoulder blades and hands. Her ears rang, but over it she heard more explosions. She tasted the smoky, gritty taste of crushed cement. It coated her throat and tongue. It adhered to the stream of blood gushing from her nose. She cracked her eyes open and tried to see through the mottled red-purple.

The concrete threatened to tip forward, but she stood fast. "Win--?" Her voice caught on the dust and the blood in her throat. Coughing racked her body for a moment, and the slab on her back wobbled, trying to flatten her. "Winter?" Her voice successfully made it past her lips, albeit hoarse and scratchy. She blinked furiously and searched, trying to locate her partner before lowering the concrete.

She heard a groan come from the ground to her right. She let the concrete slide off her back, ripping the skin off of her shoulder blades in the process. When the slab was securely leaning against the wall-- or, rather, what was left of the wall-- she fell jerkily to her knees and searched the ground with her hands, ignoring the sticky, hot blood collecting at the top of the back of her corset. She hit his flesh arm and flipped him over onto his back. At least, she hoped she'd flipped him onto his back. She couldn't quite see anything.

She felt for his head and sought out any injuries. She found blood and a knot at the top of his scalp. He hissed and grabbed her wrist weakly, letting go almost immediately. She blinked rapidly, the red and black clearing from her eyes. She took a quick assessment of her surroundings. The entire ceiling had been blown off of the hallway, and she and Winter were now in a trench, with the dark sky above them. Flames swirled in the distance and dust billowed in hulking clouds.

Her gaze returned to Winter, "Are you okay?"

He wasn't looking back at her. He was propped up on his elbows and staring at the piece of concrete leaning against what used to be the wall. "You held that up. With your bare hands," he said, something she didn't recognize lilting in his voice.

It was a statement, not a question. She shrugged and looked at the cement slab. It was bigger than she thought it had been. And a great deal thicker, with the side facing them streaked with black blood. But they had bigger things to worry about. "Can you fight?"

Winter frowned and sat all the way up, breathing heavily, "Yes."

She stood up, her legs quivering with exhaustion, "Come on, then. We have work to do, do we not?"

Winter nodded and allowed her to help him to his feet, her hands leaving streaks of red on his silver arm. He transitioned to supporting her when her real knee buckled. "I am alright, I can walk by myself." She let him go and took a few wobbly steps further, gaining her strength back to the rhythm of explosions in the distance.

"Your back is bleeding," Winter observed behind her.

"It does not matter. Come on," she waved for him to follow her down toward the red light flashing against the navy sky.