Will this War ever end? (Falling Skies/ Ben Mason Fanfic)

The search (Chapter 10)

3rd POV

Two days have passed since Hunter and the stowaway Maggie disappeared from camp. Hunters’ disappearance already had Captain Weaver on edge, so Hal Mason informing him of Maggies’ absence also wasn’t the news he needed at the time. Weaver was aware of the antipathy the two girls had for one another, and the thought of them killing each other had pushed him to the brink of insanity. Hal and Ben Mason weren’t doing any better themselves. Once Ben received word that Hunter had disappeared he was in the Armoury gearing up ready to go find her. He still felt guilty about their last encounter; he had made her afraid of him. Ben still didn’t understand why he snapped the way he did. This unknown anger bubbled inside of him and he unleashed on the first person he saw, which unfortunately ended up being Hunter. Ben was feeling angry at everything lately. Why? He wasn’t sure. One thing he was sure of though was that he was going to find Hunter and bring her home. With him, where she belonged.

 Hal Mason was the first to hear of Hunters disappearance and the first one to take action. He was on his way to the room Maggie and a few other girls were sleeping to help him search for her. Maggie however was nowhere to be seen, which only made Hal freak out more. He searched the grounds for her, asked the others if they’d seen her, but no one knew where she had gotten to. The two girls he cared for most were missing and he had no idea where to begin looking. Hal immediately informed Captain Weaver of her absence which only made matters worse. A search party was formed and the search began. They just hoped they’d find the girls in time.

The sun began to set as Weaver, the three Mason men, and a small group of Fighters made their way back to the school. Another day passed and there was still no sign of the girls. Skitter patrols had increased, making it difficult to go a minute without fighting. Fuel and ammunition were running low and the other Fighters were beginning to complain. One Fighter suggested disbanding the search, saying the two girls were as good as dead already; it took every ounce of willpower in Weavers body to keep him from throwing him to the Skitters, which Hal and Ben suggested on doing. Weaver had already lost his daughter once, he wasn’t about to lose her again. Come Hell or high water he would find her.

The road was covered in chunks of debris and pot holes, making it difficult to manoeuvre in the narrow street. There were barely any houses that bordered the street, but the ones that did were torn apart and abandoned, with dark red graffiti sprayed around them, and shattered windows that seemed to house the souls of the deceased. Dim street lights were scattered along the road, some bent and broken, others old and rusty.

“How far away are we from camp?” Captain Weaver asked the driver of the truck.

The driver tore his gaze from the road to look at his leader “Not far now, Captain.” He returned his focus to the road only to slam his foot on the brakes.

“What the hell what was that?” Weaver demanded as he pulled himself up from the floor. The driver sat there staring at the road in front him, Weaver followed his gaze and narrowed his eyes. A child stood frozen in the headlights. His raven black hair was entangled with twigs; his face was tear-stained and covered with tiny cuts; he wore a black short sleeved button up shirt, a galactic tie hanging loosely around his neck, dark blue jeans with grass stained knees, and blue untied Converse; an old red backpack was clutched tightly in his hands.

Weaver stepped out of the truck, eyeing the child cautiously. Tom came and stood beside Weaver, a gentler expression on his face as he stared at the boy.

“Hey there, are you okay?” Tom asked with a placid voice as he extended his hand. The boy stumbled back in fear, a low whimper slipping from his quivering lips. Tom put his hands up showing he meant no harm “hey, it’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you. What are you doing out here alone?” Tom knelt down so he was eye level with the child. The boy remained quiet and clutched his backpack tighter. Weaver stood off to the side and watched as Tom tried communicating with the boy; Tom always was better in these sorts of situations than he was. A few Fighters left the truck to inspect the source for stopping, while the others remained where they were. Weaver held up his hand signalling for them to stay put.