Compile:Quest

Chapter 20: Nagapie

Dorphuis Watchhouse, Rooivalk Digger Colony,

African Continent

Jinx strode through the veld, a hand laid over the grip of her Glock. Her panning gaze skimmed over long stretches of pale sand glittering under the light of the bloated moon. Each step tore apart her own misting breath; autumn was in full swing, and nights on the surface were brisk. Visibility was excellent tonight, but it provided an advantage for both her and would-be attackers alike.

Hearing a rustle behind her, Jinx paused, tightening her grip on the Glock. The sound came again, closer. She twisted to one knee as she ripped the weapon from its holster and trained the sight in the direction of the sound.

A tiny nagapie with a bushy tail jumped between two acacia trees. She exhaled and holstered her weapon. A breeze scurried over the veld, caressing a nearby stand of grass. The tall, desiccated stalks whispered to her as she passed.

Ahead, the jagged outlines of the Dorphuis appeared. Abandoned homesteads littered the veld around Rooivalk, remains of old farms and residential suburbs long ago devoured by the landscape. Half-toppled brick walls poked through the sand like the bones of a giant beast.

Here the skeletons of twenty homes remained, built in close proximity. Just what had the residents been protecting themselves against? Once discovered, Standers appropriated the gentle rise as a watchhouse, adding it to fifteen similar rendezvous points scattered around Rooivalk's perimeter.

She approached the main guardhouse, constructed over the remnants of an earlier structure. A scops owl hooted. Jinx paused, hand lifting from her Glock. Despite the futility, she scanned the surrounding area for the sentinel.

"Evening, Jinx," a man said behind her.

She turned and nodded at Wessel. "Vanbuuren here?"

"In there." The man gestured toward the lean-to. He held a blackened blade in his hands, purpose unknown.

Jinx glanced at it. "Trouble?"

"Not yet." Wessel grinned at her before disappearing into the shadows again.

Her boots crackled over the rocky ground, occasionally uprooting a small piece of quartz from the earth. A warm orange glow pooled on the scattering of brick outside the guardhouse's door. Jinx rapped the corrugated iron with her knuckle.

Vanbuuren's voice was pitched low. "What?"

Jinx pulled open the door. She tugged it shut behind her to avoid unnecessary light and heat spilling out.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The room was eight meters across. A fire spat sparks from the pit in the middle of the floor. A few workbenches had been pushed against the walls, maps tacked above them or to them. One wall consisted almost entirely of shelving and storage cabinets filled with rations and medical supplies. Munitions were kept under lock and key. The Dorphuis was a useful rendezvous point. Especially if you were caught by a Wildebeest raiding party and wouldn't make it the twelve klicks back to Rooivalk.

Vanbuuren had his back to her. He sat at one of the benches, head bent. She could hear the scratching of a pen as he completed some or other report. Standers was big on paperwork. The major wore only his fatigue pants and a vest. It was too hot in the room for much else.

"Yes?" he snapped, not lifting his head.

Jinx strode forward. The heat from the fire stroked against her cheeks. She shrugged her shoulders against the thick fabric of her fatigues.