Defying Terror

Chapter X

August 2nd, 2030, 8:27 pm

As soon as the Captain and I emerged from the backwoods restaurant, rain began to fall lightly upon the windshield of his car. After what had just happened, we were silent. The only thing we heard was the rolling tires against the wet pavement and the tapping of raindrops on the car. I had nothing to say, but I'm sure that he did.

We got kicked out of Bellamy's restaurant because the owner is too much of an asshole to realize that I did nothing to stir the pot with those kids. Okay, maybe I did knee Patty in the crotch after he beat up that kid, Anthony. No one deserves to get jumped by someone twice their size, and that's what happened to Anthony. I taught Patty a lesson about what's fair and unfair, yet Scott Bellamy thinks it's all my fault.

After that incident, him and his goons approached my table as I was minding my own business. They were going to beat me up until they saw that I had the Medo's mark, more commonly known as Jennings' mark. Why didn't they want to fight me? That mark does nothing other than make me look like the next person to go missing.

"Why do they call it Jennings' mark? He wasn't the only victim, was he?" I question, rubbing my fingers over my mark.

"He was the first victim that we found. We have no other name for it, so that's what we'll refer to it as. It's very likely that the other missing people have this same brand." The Captain keeps his eyes from wavering off the dark forest road. "You can call it whatever you want, at this point."

My mark is jagged and sharp. I stop touching it. "Doesn't that just make one guy's life more important than the rest of the victims? What if there are people who died before Jennings?"

"If you put it that way, I guess it kinda does."

"Who started calling it that?"

"Jameson."

I watch as we dash by the oak trees. Along my right side, a guard rail begins beside the road. Past the steel rail is a huge, steep drop off into the forest. That's probably why there are no stagnant puddles on the side of the road; it's all flowing down. I can only see what the headlights of the car illuminates in front of us.

"He's an asshole."

"I know."

"You know, I would probably be more willing to give blood for study if it wasn't in the middle of your driveway. If he didn't grab my arm like he was going to rip it off, and if he didn't pull a dirty syringe out of his back pocket, I might have said yes. How the hell does he keep it back there, anyway?" I lean my head against the window beside me. "He doesn't respect anyone's privacy, does he?"

The Captain sighs. "You might be able to conclude this already, but Jameson voted to execute you after you were in our custody. He wasn't happy when you got the OLC just handed to you. It doesn't help that the one who voted it is his worst rival. He hates you because MacTavish likes you, or at least sees something good in you."

"Do you?"

He pauses. "Do I, what?"

"Do you see something good in me, like he does?"

He says nothing. My heart drops, and I close my eyes. He doesn't see any good in me. He never did. I knew it. My mom was right about him.

"Yes, I do."

I blink my eyes open and turn to him. "You really do?"

"You are willing to stand up for yourself in tough situations. Not a lot of people can do the same. You also care about other people. You went up to help Anthony without even thinking about the consequences. There was nothing in it for you to go stop those kids, but you did it anyway. That is selfless. That is, unfortunately, a trait that is sometimes hard to come by in the Imperial Guard. I'm glad you showed me that you can be human, after everything that happened in these past five months."