"...There is also food storage up there, and no one is getting far in this terrain without water!”

Excellent, though Hemi to himself, already gazing at the greenery around him and ignoring the rest of the group - they were all fucking pathetic anyway - first this bitch makes herself the leader, now she's issuing orders and claims to be a damned survival expert! What's she gonna do next? Lead this group of town-dwelling arseholes to the promised land?!

In his mind he thought of how easy it would be to kill her, to kill this 'Elmina'; out in the woods one day, he gets himself a little cut up or wounded somehow, she exposes her obvious compassion again...then he slips his hands around her neck and...

His thoughts returned back to their environment, even as the image of her vertebrae cracking beneath his fists receded to the back of his mind, the eyes of one who had spent more-or-less his entire life outside of large urban centres, out in places where normal men and women would avoid unless they were looking for adrenaline activities or boring family holidays. In New Zealand, at least a hundred years ago, there had been more than enough open land and forest for he and his father to spend months away from home, living off of the land...and sometimes popping to a grocery store if they needed to.

If this tiger-without-teeth thought he couldn't get far in this terrain, then she was gravely mistaken.

It was not the way she stated it as a matter of fact that irked him so, even irritated him, but the way in which she was attempting to get the rest of these fools to follow her back into the dark, burning, psycho-filled Apox for...what? For food and water, for medical supplies? No, there was something else going on here. He was not a keen intellect, he knew it, but he also knew when people were maneuvering others into place so that they could fulfil their own desires, whatever they may be.

The little woman thinks she is the leader of the group, and now she seeks to prove it.

The more he gazed out into the scene of alluring green, tall trees and fine grass, the more he wanted just to hack up some carcasses from the wreck, buold a makeshift bag to carry them in, and head off into the forest alone. Something kept him from doing so though, something primal that he did no comprehend, maybe the social yearning of all humans to be part of a larger group? Maybe because these weak and idiotic folk might prove themselves useful? Maybe even because, after a hundred years, he needed live pray to once more refine his skills upon and they were perfect.

"Fucking idiots," he grunted as he moved somewhat away from the group, keeping them all in his line of sight, only stopping when he was a few feet away from both them and the hole in the side of the station.

There he squatted, like some grotesque upon a cathedral, his face and body obscured by the markings and patterns of his kith and kin and his overalls beginning to annoy him, saying nothing and sitting on his haunches in preparation for anything this group might decide to do next.

Would they go inside? Would they actually get what this woman promised they might have?

He didn't care, if they died he'd just roast them over the fire with the rest of the already murdered, if not...then he'd make sure to have a slice of that particular pie, one way or another.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" a voice bombed. Georgia nearly jumped from her skin. "This station fell out the fucking sky, crashed into wherever we are, an you think they'll come an get us soon? Nah, they'd have been here already, if they're coming at all."

But no, no, if they didn't come, then who was out there at all? Was there any civilized form of government coming? You don't swipe the hand that feeds and protects you, even if they locked you up in an icebox floating in space for over a century.

Georgia stared at the newcomer, particularly at his tattoos. Growing up in the slums meant Georgia saw a lot of sick and disturbing ink in disturbing places, but this guy, this guy was raw. It was the only word she could think of to describe his posture, his tats, his face. They were obviously tribal tattoos, as he was obviously a tribal man, with his tan skin and burly shoulders and a bitch face that could even take on Georgia's (though her face had slowly turned into a resting-depressed face over the last years of her "free" life). He stat fear into her. She noted the pipe in his hand and her muscles clenched, her gut whispering, flee, flee. But he was like a dog. He would chase her if she ran and dominate her easily. He wasn't human. He wasn't an animal. He was a beast. A primal, hulking beast with no room for civilized discussion in his mind. Beast need to be watched. Beast need to be chained. Beast need to be tamed.

Georgia would keep her eye on him for sure.

Two more convicts revealed themselves; two old men, one with a familiar and bloody face, while the other reminded Georgia of a mischievous librarian. The healer pulled the bloody faced man and started patching him up after the first injured man announced himself to be Joe. The healer claimed herself to be Elmina before setting out orders to get into control center. While she was shit with computers, or anything involving advanced education, she wanted to get away from the beastly man. "I'll help carry stuff back down," she stepped up and offered. She silently noted the beast moving off slightly, but not out of eyesight. She wondered where she could get some chains.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Eli smacked the pile of rubble with his metal spike in frustration, the sharp metal clang echoing around him. It was the third dead end he had found. He had no map, no directory, and no fucking clue where an exit was. His going had been slow already, given the amount of corpses and debris he had to step over and climb around. Not to mention the couple of times he had to duck behind something to avoid one of the myriad psychopaths prowling around the hallways like deranged animals. He only had a few more paths that were left unexplored, otherwise he figured he’d find a still working pod and go back to sleep for another hundred years or so. Or however long the power lasted on this heap of junk.

He turned on his heels and walked back to where he had remembered the path split in two. He had used the time tested method of eeny meeny miny moe to pick which one he took, and that had apparently failed him. So much for scientific method.

As he turned the corner he practically ran into a girl who was leaning against the wall. He guessed, by the way she jumped, that she wasn’t one of the killers in this place. She was clutching her side, her hands dark with blood. Good, he thought, smiling. Better her than him.

To make sure this bitch didn’t try to follow him or anything, he held up his spike towards her, pointy end first. He put on his most deranged smile and made enough eye contact to make it uncomfortable, then walked around her and continued down the path. Hopefully she’d have a bit of sense and go off in the opposite direction to bleed out or whatever. Eli was a business man, but in the business of saving people he was not.

It was equally as frustrating going down this gray, metal, bloodsoaked hallway as it was going down the various other gray, metal, bloodsoaked hallways, but Eli had hope this was the gray, metal, bloodsoaked hallway he was looking for.

Eventually, he found a hole of blinding light, a gentle gust of fresh air flowing through it. He had never been so happy to see a hole in his life. Well…

As he exited the godforsaken prison, hopefully not into the arms of the authorities who might be waiting to take him to a different godforsaken prison, he covered his eyes to the sun. Eli realized, based on the fact that he could breathe, that he was not in space. That was a good thing, he supposed.

After a moment of blindness, Eli’s eyes adjusted to the bright light. He found himself standing on the outskirts of a circle of people, all of various builds and genders and psychological states. One was dead on the ground and the rest looked like they were just about there as well. He was happy he wasn’t the only one unlucky enough to get fucked up in their unexpected landing.

Eli decided he might as well join the group, everyone seemed to be doing it anyway, and it’s not like he’d survive in the woods for very long.

“Am I too late to join the drum circle?”

She heard the blonde behind her say something, even thought she could make out a name, and the black woman said something as well, something a voice inside her agreed with, but she was distracted, more so than at any other time on this particular day: A hulk of a man stepped into their little neck of the woods and, as if all the blood he was covered with and the pipe in his hand weren't threatening and, however much she hated to admit it, frightening enough, she recognized him. Stories like his weren't your run-of-the-mill serial killer reports. The Beast.

When she had finished high school, her plan had been to go on a hiking trip through Europe with a couple of friends; her parents had been hiking with her and her sister basically since birth, so she knew what she was getting into. Except reports of disappearances scared her parents so much they didn't let up until she instead walked the Appalachian trail, or what was left of it after funding for it was cut to oblivion a few decades earlier. When she came back from the wilderness, The Beast was all over the news and, to her knowledge, her parents and sister never went hiking again.

And now, here she was, within spitting distance of perhaps the most dangerous creature in this forest. With people like the man the doctor was treating, odds were that a few of them were psychopaths, highly intelligent individuals that seemed harmless on the surface. With the Beast, she was certain he would attack sooner or later; what scared her was the thought of running out of bullets before bringing him down. He looked like the love child of an angry bull and an even angrier grizzly bear. How did you interact with something like that? How could you possibly tame it, or at least direct its anger away from you?

Christine didn't know the answer and everything in her urged her to do what she had done before: Aim for the head and take the shot. Yet she couldn't do it. There were no moral qualms holding her back and she was sure she could take quick aim and shoot; no, those weren't the problem. But she was trying to earn some trust here, trying to appear as civil as she could to the few individuals on this station that seemed to be reasonable and perhaps trustworthy themselves. Maybe she could shoot him and explain afterwards, maybe she couldn't - it wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

Perhaps it was for the best she didn't react to him; anything she said could have angered this brute enough to set him off and, as with all wild animals, showing fear and inferiority were sure-fire ways of getting yourself killed... except with the ones where running away or climbing on trees was the only way to survive. Either way, another pair joined them. And, again, she knew one of those faces, knew the name by heart, overshadowing the presence of the elderly man who supported him, and couldn't keep herself from whispering it in surprise:
"Makarid Ristachev."

When she had started to see the cracks in the UN facade, heard of their methods, learned about the corruption and how they stayed the course that had led the world into the chaos that almost destroyed human civilization, this man who opposed them and tried something different, tried to build a communist society supported by modern technology and succeeded, became her hero. War crimes, disappearances, rumors of torture... it was a blemish, no doubt, but it didn't phase her. He was removed from office, hanged by an angry mob and reappeared years later, charged with numerous counts of murder and other crimes. Christine never knew what to make of that last part of his biography. Did he come back from the dead? Did he commit these crimes or was he being framed? All she knew was that he had, through his success, inspired rebels and politicians alike. I wonder how things turned out after I was put in stasis.

He was wounded and, as if on cue, the doctor, Elmina, finished fixing up the Joe and directed her attention at the former president of the Russian Federation. Not only that, she spoke of going back inside, of food and water and information. The black girl said she wanted to help carry things and another man stepped on the clearing, appearing about as threatening, or non-threatening, as the one who had just been treated. Whether he was dangerous - We all are - didn't even really matter right now. The main issues were that this group was getting bigger and bigger and the one person who seemed both willing and capable of leading them was being a little too liberal with her compassion. If that was how she was going to act, she would need help and protection.

Christine stepped closer to Elmina and Ristachev, giving the politician a slight nod to show her respect, then knealed down next to the blonde and whispered to her:
"I don't know what your plan is but if you intend to go back in there and bring enough food and water for everybody here, you're gonna need more hands. And you need somebody to watch your back." She let her gaze wander all around, making sure that nobody was sneaking up on them and that none of the members of this ragtag crime family were bashing each other's skulls in.

"There's at least one Beast here neither of us want to turn their back on and a lot more degenerates inside and, if nothing else, I think you've seen that I'm willing to shoot a guy if they try to break your bones. I'm not saying you have to trust me - and you're gonna have to buy me dinner first before you get a kiss - but I am one the safer gambles you can choose from right now."

Jake definitely did not think his entry through. It was obvious that the only one that could've needed help was the leader with her medical work. Of course, Jake had no expertise on the field at all, although at least it looked like none of the group did besides her. Still, it could have been worse. The red-haired woman could have asked him to help drag away the corpse which was really starting to unnerve the man, for example...

Either way, he offered his aid and it was time to keep himself to his word. He nodded slightly and stepped closer to the 'operation'. The injured man was already getting stitched and bandaged up, the leader looked like she was a professional medic before being brought here. Quite fortunate, he thought as his own fresh wound was still aching. Maybe he will ask her to fix him up as well, she looked like she was almost done with her first patient anyways. There was not much he could do to assist there - not like he minded that. To still somehow show his intentions, he helped packing up the remaining medical stuff into a bag.

He also overheard the brief introductions - the woman's name, Elmina sounded very, very familiar for Jake, but he could not put the picture together just yet. Even though he spent most of his last years before his capture in solitude and he did not meet too many people. His name memory was just horrible, partly because his mind was always occupied with data and his attention was at a hundred places at once when he was not focused on one thing.
There was not much time for such pondering anyways as more and more people joined the group. One older man brought along another injured, this one with what looked like a deep cut on his face. Elmina did not hesitate and beckoned them to come closer so she can tend his wound as well. Jake was about to unpack the meds once again, when she said "Excuse me a second" and stood up. She was about to deliver a speech or something, he thought. At least give some directions. This was the fourth item on his list of essentials and if she had it, he did not mind following.

Before anything was said though, another man entered - or more like two and a half men in one. A six feet tall and wholly broad beast with his entire body being covered in tattoos. He looked like a tribesman from older times...exactly that kind of tribesman who would eat the foreign invaders alive. The man did not have many kind words for the group either. Obviously no one said anything back - who would want to anger this monster? Jake gulped and tried his best to ignore him. Yes, he was already surrounded with murderers and other horrible criminals before he appeared, but none of them looked like that kind who could snap your neck in half a second if you talk to them wrong. Or, even if they could, it was not so obvious and intimidating than in his case.

Jake started regretting everything, not just his entry. How was he planning to survive for longer than a couple hours before his utter social ineptitude makes either the beast or anyone else snap? His chances were as nil as if he just set off into the forest alone. What is better, he wondered. Being brutally murdered or dying of starvation...?

Then suddenly, Elmina mentioned computers. For him, that felt like a ray of hope piercing through the heavens, destined to save his ass from sure death, at least for now. Bonus points as even the beast-man decided to pull away from the group slightly, disgruntled.
"That..." He stood up. "That would be me." Although the fact that they had to go back to the same Apox centre he just fought so hard to escape from was less than pleasant, he would have given anything to get back to his comfort zone.

"And believe me, no one is coming. Wherever we are, Prime isn't watching."

That was the moment it all snapped into place for Jake. Elmina, computers, the Prime system. He finally remembered all the moments of the September of 2088, from the first conversation to the eventual attack on the UN machine. This Elmina was none other than the former UN medic Elmina Lennox, the one who gave him the access codes and went so far as to kill the highest-ranking officers to make the attack possible.
The two did not exchange any messages after that and Jake saw a cease of all her activity on the Outerweb in 2090. He wondered if she got caught. And here was the answer. 145 years later, they were once again standing besides each other, having survived what looks like the apocalypse. This could have been very romantic, he thought...if not for the current circumstances.
And also if not for the second realization: it was quite likely him who caused all this. The virus in Prime, set to destroy it could have activated just recently, causing the fall of the Apox centre and the death of many. He did not really want to deal with this fact, but there was no denying it now.

"Aand also believe me, I'm most probably the reason why. Elmina, remember that particular virus without an execution date...?"

Sam was thankful that the blonde doctor had taken his seemingly immortal comrade from his shoulder. He was even more thankful that he hadn’t wound up on the ground with blood circling his head like a halo in an old religious painting like that other poor bastard. Eavesdropping on the conversation between Doc and Red painted it clear who not to rub the wrong way, although he had already decided that it would be best to play nice. While he had no scientific evidence to back it up, Sam believed that people, usually, are less likely to bash your goddamn brains in if you’re not an asshole. Odds of survival went up even more if you brought something useful to the table. Looking around, Sam could tell he wasn’t the brightest or the strongest. He had no knack for leadership. Besides, Doc was already seeming to step into that role with her plans and demands, although he felt Ristachev might have something to say about it once his mouth wasn’t full of blood. Still, he could at least help steer the ship.

While having a large group was nice, it also added more unpredictable variables to the situation. Sure, all of them were obviously very dangerous prisoners, but he doubted the scrawny basement dweller or the glum teenage volunteer were waiting for everyone to look away so they could jam a shiv into their neighbor’s ribs. Since he wasn’t surrounded by a sea of corpses, it was safe to deduce that most of the people right now didn’t want to turn things into a bloodbath. In Sam’s mind, that meant that with every addition to the group, like the man who wanted to come and sing kumbaya, they risked having the balance shifting from a tepid peace into a thrill kill free-for-all. If what Elmina said was true, if Prime was royally fucked, that meant Sam had already survived the first round of shit hitting the fan. He doubted his luck would let him survive the second. First act as helmsman: establishing supply lines and routing.

Routing first:

“I know it’s not my place, but mind if I offer a suggestion?” said Samuel, approaching Elmina and the redhead and keeping his voice low to dissuade others from listening. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but we’re drawing attention just sitting here. Even if Prime’s not looking, I’m sure somebody may have noticed the giant f-fucking spaceship crashing down to Earth. Regardless, we still got prisoners pouring out of that thing. Only a matter of time before a group of them come and decides that our guns belong to them. Before some of us go inside to forage or whatever, we really should move our wounded into the woods and leave some able bodies to guard them.”

“I’m staying with my friend there,” said Sam, pointing to Ristachev. It was a good excuse to not rush back into the dangerous Apox. “And I’ll make sure nobody comes to harm Pretty Boy or New Guy there. And if you’re trying to keep everyone on your side, then I think we’d trust you a whole lot more if you make the other girl with the gun stay too. I refuse to have us be undefended, and while I’m dumb I’m not dumb enough to think she’d actually give me her gun. So Blondie stays too.”

Sam held up his hands, ideally to stop them from injecting. He had something that would upset them much more than leaving behind one of their fellow girl scouts. Now for supplies:

“You two might not like it,” said Sam, trying to stifle his stutter as much as possible, “but if you think there will be a decent supply of food and water then perhaps you should take the Big Guy with you. Don’t take this the wrong way, but he looks like he could carry more than the four of you combined. You could even make a makeshift knapsack out of our dead friend’s jumpsuit and turn Big Guy into a pack mule. It’s clear from his attitude that he isn’t up for teamwork; you can use this as an opportunity to assert yourself and get him to fall in line. If he doesn’t want to help, Red can just threaten to shoot him. If he tries anything funny, Red can just actually shoot him.”

He knew they wouldn’t like the idea, but hopefully they would be able to see his logic. The current group of volunteers looked like they were strong enough to bring back maybe box of juice and a bag of chips--the small kind, like the ones found in vending machines. Hardly enough for a group that was just shy of a dozen. Sam had worked hard to make it out of the Apox alive. While there was no way he was ever going back in there, he certainly wasn’t going to go hungry despite all of his hard work.

“Of course,” he said, stepping back and no longer whispering, “ I have no real say here. I’ll trust you to make whatever you think is the best course of action.” He smiled. “Might hurt my feelings, though.”

Christine wanted to talk back. It wasn't just about the food, of course it wasn't. Having one of the smartest people among them walk into the wreckage with a gun, a programmer and a cannibal not only sounded like the beginning of a bad joke but could also end turn out to be the end of her life. But there was no time and Elmina had obviously already made up her mind. All that was left to do when she walked back inside was to call after her:
"Stay safe!" A hint of a smile curled her lips. Crazy bitch.

The smile went away in an instant once she took another look at Ristachev. Her own knowledge of all things medical was limited, just enough to give first aid for most wounds, but she knew enough to know that he still had an open wound. The doctor had changed the gauze, nothing else, which meant that he was in for a lot more pain and blood loss. She would have helped him up, except putting the gun down wasn't an option and the overall didn't have a pocket that could hold the gun. And it looks like this gun is mine now... I need to build a makeshift holster. And the old guy's backpack idea isn't bad either.

"Keep the pressure on it", she said to the ex-president. "We'll take care of it once she's back."

Then she turned to face the rest of them. Christine felt that some things needed to be addressed before they went on their merry way.
"Here's how it is: Apparently, we're free people. That means that all of you are free to leave or to stay. But if you do stay, there is a condition: You act like the good, honest, law-abiding citizens you are - after all, we were screwed by our lawyers and are innocent, right? - and don't go for the guns, don't start a fight, don't try to take the medicine, in short, you act like you're the mayor of fucking Pleasantville. That way, we can get out of here without another incident", she nodded towards the dead inmate.

"So, if you're here to stay, help the injured and get going. Us girls with guns are gonna protect you from the big bad wolf." She grinned, realizing that her hair color fit the analogy. "Red Riding Hood is packing."

With a gesture of her burned finger, she signaled to the black woman that she wanted to talk and moved to the corpse. He didn't stink yet. Maybe he hadn't even emptied his bladder. If so, this would be a lot more pleasant than it had any right to be.
"Listen, I don't know you or why you were on the Apox but you don't strike me as the type that... kills for fun. I don't know if I give that impression but, for what it's worth, I'm not either. What I do know is that there's one more thing I need to do before I leave the clearing but I can't do it because I won't put the gun down. So I'm asking you."

She pointed her blemished index finger at the corpse.
"I'm good with my hands. I might be able to make something from that guy's overall and boots... if you take them off of him. You don't have to, of course. But if you do it, I'll know that you can help out, be friendly, maybe even be trusted. And I look out for the people I trust. Whether the UN shows up or not, the woods and some of our 'companions' might be dangerous, so trust goes a long way until we know what's up, don't you think?"

As stubborn as a mule, and as aggressive as a rabid wolverine, Hemi listened to the self-elected leader of the group - Misses Medical Marvel herself - and then, once she had disappeared into the confines of the Apox once more, opened his ears to the similarly bullshit speech of Red Head. He decided to silently watch everything, remaining as motionless as a statue save for his eyes and nostrils, looking over the group carefully and probably going through the same thought process as a big cat on the savannah, selecting the weakest of the group as potential meals - in spite of his reputation, however, he actually only ate human flesh when he had to...not that that had stopped the media or the courts from demonising him by any means that they could.

From what he could tell, Red Head and Medical Lady were not all that different, really; both were armed and thought themselves well above all others because of it, both were slight women that likely would not last long without said weapons, and both thought that they were the fucking leaders of the group. The truth was that neither of them, save by the authority of their pistols and that alone, had any sway over the group at all! Hell, El-Eli-whatever had threatened him, them decided to ask him for help...who the fuck does that?!

No, he decided, he would not leave the group but he didn't have to help them either. If they wanted food and water, then they could go and get it, if they decided to move somewhere - somewhere away from the wreckage would be a good idea - then he would follow them, track them and generally observe them. Intelligent he may not be, not in the way that he admitted most of those present were, but he was cunning...and patient...very patient.

If only he had been born in a different time, in a different place, he would have made a fine chief! Sadly, for now, he was stuck here in a forest in God knew what country with several wounded inmates, a handful of seemingly mentally sharp but bodily inferior specimens, and two women who seemed to believe that they were the worlds fucking gift to this dishevelled assembly.

As his old dad used to say, and he was full of useful phrases and proverbs, "Hemi, my boy, fuck 'em."

Jake watched as Elmina at least tried to direct the reasonably large group of vastly different personalities. He knew she was good at planning after she orchestrated that Prime attack all by herself. Except maybe for that slight detail that he was kept in the complete dark about the whole operation all the way until the very moment he had to hack into the system. This led to the haphazard creation of the virus that would eventually be uploaded and execute several years later...

Jake could not get these racing thoughts out of his head. If only he was given more time, if only he knew beforehand... He would have crafted a way better program, an even more powerful and what was more important, controlled one the 'resistance' could have used to gain weighty leverage on the UN. Instead he - and Elmina, of course - was now responsible for a great amount of deaths just at the Apox centre. And even if he would not have minded that too much considering the nature of the inmates...the fact that it was already an hour or so since the events all began and there was still no sign of anything or anyone besides them in the middle of the goddamn United States - that was where they were, right? - made him think of way worse things.

He quickly snapped himself out of the messy and increasingly depressing thoughts and kept his focus on the group all around him. He was wondering who else will be part of this little task force back into the Apox in hopes of food and other general supplies. The red-haired woman with a gun - who, probably because of that latter detail, looked like the other prominent figure of the bunch - vowed to tag along, but the recently arriving older man had different ideas. Jake found the way that man talked shady, but then again - all of them were shady. Elmina seemed to agree with him and since there was no one else offering to come, only one option remained... The vulgar beast took his place slightly farther from the group, watching them like a predator observing the prey. Jake knew he was planning something brutal and he also knew he does not want to be in the general vicinity when he decides to go 'hunting'. Then again, he could not deny that the man was way stronger than both of them and his presence would also certainly help in keeping the remaining inmates at bay when they go back inside.

"I'm...I'm not too sure this is the best idea..." He expressed his faint disagreement when Elmina approached the beast and asked for his help. There was no reaction seemingly and the former UN medic quickly turned around and beckoned him to follow. If this was a fortunate or an unfortunate event, he could not know - at least he felt way less intimidated for now, and hoped there does not wait another of the man's kind inside the destroyed prison.

There was only the two of them now. Jake and Elmina took their way towards the ruins of the Apox centre, while the rest of the group was to move slightly north and wait for them to come back. No one in the right mind actually expected all things to go the way they were said though... Jake wondered if they might just find their bloody corpses and the frenzying beast when the mission is over. Or they will come to a merry alliance and ambush the two instead. Or something absolutely different will happen that no one expects. Probably. Actually, definitely.

Instead of pondering about the situation that was still way ahead of them, he focused on the task at hand.
Good thing that he was with Elmina, the only one he had any sort of history with and thus, the only one he could trust. How much, that was still to be decided. But trust is trust, he thought. Rather her than anyone else.
Bad thing that it was only Elmina. While neither of them could know exactly how much of the inmates inside are still alive and dangerous, there were certainly more than a hundred still. At least one encounter was unavoidable no matter how short their path was and in this environment, anything had the chance to be lethal. The odds were once again - or still? - not in Jake's favor. He started caring less and less about this fact the more he was exposed to constant impending doom though.

He took a deep breath.
The mission was clear. He had a trusted partner with a gun. He could extract any data from anywhere in a short order, minimizing the time they need to stay in the deathzone. They will come back safe and sound and find the rest of the group the same way.

Or.

Maybe the group would be better off dead. Maybe their chances of survival with the extremely limited rations was higher if there was only the two of them. Less chances of someone backstabbing, betraying or doing anything sinister. More order, more peace, more likely survival. And these are not bad things at all...

"What the fuck, Jake," he murmured to himself, shocked at his own thoughts. "You're not a psycho. Don't turn into one..."
He looked at Elmina, hoping she did not hear these words just now.
"So um..." he said it aloud this time, looking to initiate a normal conversation. "What happened after the attack? You just disappeared off the radar..."

Georgia watched as Miss Medic handed out orders like doctor's slips. Commands were given and dogs obeyed. Georgia wondered if Miss Medic was thinking in her own interest or the group's best interest. She seemed like an educated lady, with her sharp accent and her useful skills, she was an asset to the group. Christine would defend that woman with all her will, and that shiny, bloody gun. Georgia was just happy she didn't have to prove her worth by forging back into that hell called the Apox. She smiled to herself as she remembered her mother's gospel.

As it is on Earth, it shall be in heaven.

Hell had fallen from the heavens and crashed down to earth to set things straight.

Georgia wondered if God was real and if he was still there, still watching from his only little Apox among the stars. Did the UN, with its mighty hand and just gavel, lock away God too?

Georgia returned back to earth when Christine stepped up after Miss Medical left.

"...You act like the good, honest, law-abiding citizens you are - after all, we were screwed by our lawyers and are innocent, right?"

Georgia laughed softly to herself. She was still pretty sure that that rat faced lawyer of hers assigned to her by the state was working with the UN during the case. Whenever he was asked to call a witness to the stand, his hands and lip quivered like a young child's when afraid, and his voice shook and startled the judge as he "interrogated" (more like begged) the witnesses during their testimonies.

After Christine's rally speech was over, the red head gestured to Georgia and stood by the body. Georgia hesitantly approached. Even though it would be a bad idea to blow her brains out right now, Georgia didn't know what to expect from any of these inmates, supposedly sane or not. Flies gathered around the blown-out face, their grotesque and sickly arms slidin over the exposed flesh as the body decayed. Georgia held back the bile in her throat. She could deal with exposed flesh and dead people, but the flies? The maggots? Fuck. No.

"Listen, I don't know you or why you were on the Apox but you don't strike me as the type that... kills for fun. I don't know if I give that impression but, for what it's worth, I'm not either."

While Georgia did not trust Christine's word, she could tell this woman would have to be a superb actress to hide her insanity. The red head was obviously an educated and skilled woman; another worth-while asset to the team. She wasn't afraid to make discussions and she wasn't afraid to wield a gun, let alone use it.

"what I do know is that there's one more thing I need to do before I leave the clearing but I can't do it because I won't put the gun down. So I'm asking you.I'm good with my hands. I might be able to make something from that guy's overall and boots... if you take them off of him."

Georgia tried not to scowl at Christine, but with the sun blinding her eyes, and he unpleasant task presented before her, it seemed almost impossible.

"You don't have to, of course."

Yeah. I do, Georgia thought to herself.

"But if you do it, I'll know that you can help out, be friendly, maybe even be trusted. And I look out for the people I trust. Whether the UN shows up or not, the woods and some of our 'companions' might be dangerous, so trust goes a long way until we know what's up, don't you think?"

Georgia paused, considering her words. She tried to ignore the sick taste in her mouth. "Alright," she concluded, staring back into Christine's eyes. "The name's Georgia." She had to stop herself from smiling. It was too much of a habit, putting on her seductive smile for clients when she first introduced herself. No clients out here anymore.

Georgia slowly kneeled next to the body, trying not to inhale a fly or two. She removed the blood-stained boots and threw them near the wounded, barely avoiding the man with the fucked up cheek. "Sorry," she apologized. She wasn't sure if he would take an apology but it was the best she could do at the moment. Pulling her own overalls over her nose so the flies wouldn't try to crawl over her skin, she began unbuttoning the dead man's overalls. She shook his arms out of his sleeves one at a time before pulling down the overalls to his hips, revealing repulsive chest hair and a protruding beer gut. She didn't flinch for once. She had seen her fair share of unattractive men. She was more than use to it by now. She glanced over at the old man who helped bring out the guy with the bloody face. "Hey!" she called out to him. "Help me pull these down his legs!"

Joe had listened to Elmina, she was trying to take a leadership role within the group it seemed. An admirable idea, though it would be a very difficult task to lead a band of convicted criminals. He had also taken a glance at the brute that entered the fold, The Beast, a huge man, undoubtedly strong, though he briefly wondered how mentally strong he was. Often times the giants of men weren't the strongest thinkers. He'd try to avoid that one.

He didn't really care to find out how exactly they ended up crashed on Earth. He was just thankful that he wasn't frozen in cryo anymore, it was a very boring way of life. Joe enjoyed freedom and that seemed to be what he had currently, though he wasn't huge on wandering in the wilderness alone. God only knew where they were, maybe miles from civilization. He had heard the others names and didn't recognize them other than the Russian politician. Joe always hated politicians, corrupt and power hungry every last one.

He had stayed silent as the group talked amongst themselves as he wondered about his next action. Joe's hand was on his wound, freshly healed by Elmina. That was taken care of well enough. It seemed his best course of action was to simply follow, not lead and not draw any unnecessary attention from the savages around him. He could make himself useful, make it seem like he actually cared about all the others and was all in for their ragtag criminal team. Maybe make an innocent suggestion or two, which was what he did as he approached Christine.

"We should think about splitting another small party off and sending them into the wilderness. Might be worth a shot, could find a deer and that would solve the food issue. Or find some signs of civilization even," Joseph said to her, then spoke a little more quietly. "It should be some people that actually come back to the rest of the group."

And the type that won't murder each other while out in the woods. Though he left that part out, he figured she smart enough to come to that conclusion.

Ristachev’s world became a whirlwind of black and red, dancing round and round as pain ripped every fibre of his being to pieces. His body throbbed and ached as shards of red hot torment cut through his skin, and sweet blood welled up inside the tatters of his mouth.

He could feel fangs of pain biting at him, whilst somewhere in the distance foreign hands fumbled about with his face. He was fighting just to stay awake, no matter how seductive an escape from this agony might seem, but even know the darkness in his vision was only growing and growing.

You left yourself vulnerable, Old man

Am I too late to join the drum circle?

No one is coming.

I’m staying with my friend here

You’re all alone out here

Might hurt my feelings, though

Well, I’m going to need your help again

Traitor

Time slipped by in ribbons, as Ristachev’s head boomed and pounded. Soon the world became wet, and then there was no more pain.

When the Russian came to, everyone seemed to be standing around discussing something.

“I hate to break up whatever it is that you deti have got going on,” He wheezed, spitting a fleck of dried blood out of his mouth “But would anyone be so kind as to fill me in on what’s happening?”

Christine watched as the black woman - Georgia - removed the corpse's boots and started undressing him. Only once before did she have to fiddle around with a dead body before and even though she wouldn't have had any issues with getting what she needed from this one, she felt a faint sense of relief watching somebody else do it.
"Thank you, Georgia."

That was when Joe walked up to her. She had made him out from the corner of her eye but he had been coming up to her from her right and the truth was that she had only barely heard his footsteps until he was basically right next to her - it scared and angered her how vulnerable it made her feel, even in a situation where she should have been as much at ease as you could be after escaping from a cryochamber and a burning wreckage.
But his intentions weren't hostile and she listened, facing him, and then nodded slowly.

"You're not wrong... but no."

Remaining silent for a moment, Christine looked around, giving each member of their little group a once-over. Who except me knows how to survive out here? Looks could be deceiving but her knowledge about them was limited - Other than Ristachev and the Beast, none of them looked familiar - and if she had to go by looks, none of them seemed particularly confident right now; they seemed to be waiting for somebody to take the first step and lead them to their destination. The only one who didn't seem the least bit on edge, who, in fact, looked pretty damn smug, was the Maori, and why wouldn't he be? He had survived in the wilderness for years, if the reports were true, and that took more than just eating a person or a dozen.

But Joe was still standing right next to her, a hint of confussion on his face.
"See, when the Apox came crashing through the atmosphere, that must have scared the shit out of every living thing within... 20, 30, maybe 50 miles of here. 30 miles, that's a day's walk if you're in good shape, so with wounded such as yourself, I wouldn't count on making that in less than two days. And even if we found a deer or a rabbit, the only thing we've got to hunt right now is this."
She held up the hand with the gun.

"Our best bet today would be berries and leaves but if you don't know what's edible and what isn't, that can be unpleasant or downright dangerous. And if you don't know how to navigate and find out which way you're facing, getting lost is easier than you think."

She bit her lower lip, pondering what she should say next. So far, admittedly, she must have come across as a bit bitchy, laying down the law with them, maybe unnecessarily so, although in her opinion it had to be said at least once. She didn't want to be too friendly with everybody, especially not until she knew who was trustworthy and who wasn't, but maybe it was time to show that she had a little more to offer than shooting and talking.

Raising her voice a little bit, she made sure that everybody could hear her next words, if they hadn't already been listening.
"Tell you what, once we've reached Elmina's cryochamber, I'll teach 'Woodland Navigation 101' and when it's time to go out, I'll go with some people and see what's edible in this part of the world. Honestly though, I'm a lot more worried about the water situation."

Before she could elaborate, though, Ristachev seemed to come to from spacing out. Christine hadn't even noticed him toppling over while she had been busy. Maybe his injury was worse than she thought. She approached him quickly and helped him on his feet.
"We're free, apparently, we're leaving the Apox and you have definitely seen better days."

Nobody seemed to be to keen on helping the man walk and the old man who had been his support before was now busy with the corpse. Looks like I'm gonna be sentry and nurse today.
"Georgia, don't forget the boots."
She kicked the boots at her feet back in her general direction, careful not to hit anybody with it.

"Let's go."

And with that, the Russian president's arm around her shoulder, she walked north, hoping that Elmina would come back with some good news, bags full of food and, perhaps most importantly, something to hold water.

Truth be told, Hemi had been nearly asleep when Redhead decided that it was time get up and move out, his eyelids already half-shut by the time she raised her voice and announced what her next course of action would be; on awakening fully, he could see that people had moved around, that the black woman and the 'computer guy' were still absent, and that they had finally managed to strip the corpse of his boots. He had no idea why they would need his boots, but then again he was not really a thinker after all. What he did know was that he would follow the gun-toting and non-elected leader of the small band, not because he actually cared what she had to say, or because he agreed with anything that she proposed to do, but because he was all too aware that wolves, wild dogs, and every other pack hunted better together.

Slowly, almost nonchalantly, he rose from his squatting position and gave his legs a quick stretch to get the circulation going once more. It spoke somewhat about his mindset that, even as he was dozing, his hand had never let go of the steel piping it clutched...the blood caked upon it now dried and more black than red in colour. This he made sure to keep by him as he took in some deep breaths, getting not much more than death, smoke and the smells of the surrounding forest clogging his nostrils.

"Let's go."

He watched her, noting her encumbrance in the form of the wounded Russian, her act of compassion leaving her dangerously open to slower reflexes and less of an ability to use her weapon.

No, he thought to himself, letting his eyes linger on her back as she began her walk toward the cryochamber, it would be too easy.

Deciding that he would follow after the group, like a hyena on the fringe of a pride of lions, he began his own journey toward the treeline; from there he would follow, watch, and if he needed to he would also kill.

That, and perhaps while he was out here he could find something to act as shelter and, Gods willing, some water...

Eli watched the group go about their business, opting to sit out to the side for a while. He wanted to assess just what he was getting himself into, and because it seemed like everyone here was keen on letting just about anyone join up with them, he wasn’t worried about being left out just yet.

There were quite a few members to the group and, surprisingly, only one of them was dead so far. Not including himself and the dead dude, there were eight of them. Unless he miscounted, or there were others lurking about in the shadows. Eli gazed from person to person, taking in what he could (or what he cared to) about them. Knowing the people you’re dealing with is the first step towards fucking over the people you’re dealing with.

First was the one who seemed to have assumed the position of leader. The one who decided that it was her job to patch up every Tom, Dick, and Harry that stumbled out of the hellish ship with their innards quickly becoming outards. He was glad she had taken control, because that meant he wouldn’t have to. There wasn’t much to gain in leading a ragtag group of misfits through the wilderness to their seemingly inevitable deaths. But someone had to do it, he supposed.

Next was the red-headed girl who seemed to think herself second in command, or whatever. She seemed to have a mouth on her, which made Eli certain things wouldn’t work out between the two in the long run. She also had a gun, which Eli wanted. He was able to connect the gun to the body, so clearly she was at least moderately dangerous with it. Whatever, he could wait. He had nothing but time now. And his metal spike.

Then came the two injured ones. One was an old man, bleeding all over the place and just generally making a mess. He seemed familiar, but maybe he just had one of those faces. Who knew. The other was younger, and kind of weirded Eli out. He wasn’t sure why, maybe he just had one of those faces.

Three more fit into a nice group like the last two. Another old dude, noticeably bleeding less than the other, a very unassuming black girl that didn’t seem quite sure what was going on, and a scrawny kid who seemed even less sure. He grouped these three into the “exploit and/or ignore” category. They didn’t, outwardly, seem to pose much of a threat to him. Thus, in his asshole mind, he figured the only use they’d have to him would have to be brought about by his own actions.

Lastly was the creature sitting off in the distance that everyone seemed to have done a great job at upsetting. That was the one who would be the reason why Eli would be sleeping with one eye open. He wasn’t quite sure it was human at all, to be honest, but he doubted many of these people were exactly human either. Lord knew he wasn’t.

By the time Eli had finished his little mental inventory of personalities, he realized the group had gotten smaller. Their fearless leader and the computer kid were nowhere to be seen. Had they run off? Did it matter? No, it didn’t, he decided. He also realized that the black girl and the older, non-dying guy were stripping the dead body. He thought about making a snide comment about it, but decided against it for whatever reason.

”Lets go.” The red head spoke. Second in command was now their new glorious leader, apparently.

Eli watched as she lifted the bleeding dude and began to carry him off, and then noticed the beast doing the same. Eli squinted, trying to see if the monster was drooling.

“Hey, comrade,” Eli spoke, jogging slightly to catch up to the red-head and her apparently Russian made luggage. He made sure to stop short and stay a respectful distance away, not wanting trigger finger to get any wrong ideas. “Where do I know ya from? I’m sure I’d be able to place it if it weren’t for that nasty little scrape ya got there.”

The Hanged Man didn’t resist as the redheaded girl helped him up off of the floor and heaved him across her shoulders. Her strength spoke to him, and she gave him something to focus on through all the pain and blood. She had a round yet sculpted face, and deep brown eyes that reminded him of an ex-girlfriend he’d had an eternity ago. Her eyes had turned gold when they’d caught the fresh sunlight. I wonder if her’s do the same.

“Let’s go.”

With his arm slung over her shoulder, Ristachev stumbled onwards, going wherever she might take him.

“Might I have the name of my saviour?” He asked her in his now slightly raspy voice, smiling amidst the scars and dried blood. His eyes drifted down to her soft ginger tresses. Like ribbons of crackling fire.

“Hey Comrade, where do I know ya from? I’m sure I’d be able to place it if it weren't for that nasty little scrape you got there.”

Pulling himself back into the real world, Ristachev suddenly became very aware of the dark haired figure creeping up behind them.

“I had a government job, a while back,” He said simply “You might have seen me on the TV now and then.” He gave a little shrug, instantly regretting it as a spike of pain shot through his back.

“I don’t suppose you’re one of those famous American terrorists I’d have heard of?” he asked, more out a strange form of politeness than any genuine curiosity.

Studying the man’s face further, Ristachev was reminded of a document he’d been presented with at a UN meeting way-back-when. Something about a ring of arms dealers. The various secret services had had a few promising leads, courtesy of Prime, but they’d never made any solid connections. Ristachev had been meaning to follow it up, but he’d been deposed before anything came of it.

They’d called him something that had sounded like a woman’s name to him. Emily? No, that can’t be right.

The steel door slammed open after the system accepted Elmina's UN codes. A large and spacious room was revealed behind it. The two have finally arrived to their destination: the Apox's command centre. It was outfitted with everything needed to keep the massive space-penitentiary in check: wide monitors hang on the front walls with control panels below and there were numerous entrances to the side, leading to what were potentially other places of vital importance. Abandoned, but thankfully still mostly intact, this was the best chance for the survivors to find something meaningful.
While Jake looked around in awe, Elmina shut the door tight behind them. She did not want another encounter with any inmate anymore. They did not have much time work with here anyways, they best do whatever they want undisturbed now.
"All right. We have around 15 minutes until the generator breaks down and we definitely don't want to be around when that happens. You have your way with the tech here - I'll go pick up anything that can be useful."
"Okay, okay. 15 minutes. I'll...see what I can do."
And with that their ways split. Elmina went off to the side while Jake walked forward to the control panels.

He briefly examined what he has to deal with here. It was top-notch technology, at least back a hundred years ago and that was all he knew about anyways. The system was turned on and working in this very moment as well, as signed by some green lights at the middle. Below the lights was a large keyboard and many levers and switches with unknown functions. He obviously did not want to fiddle with those latter just yet, so he laid his hands on the keyboard.
He almost jumped up in surprise when the black screen suddenly became alive and the same familiar AI voice greeted him: 'Welcome to the Apox mainframe. Please sign in.' This same message was also displayed on the largest screen on the middle of the wall with white letters on a light blue background. Jake let out a sigh. He was hoping the system was abandoned prematurely and the last official who used it would still be signed in, but it was on the case. This fact and the complete lack of any UN personnel made him believe that the centre was left to rot way before it crashed down into the Earth. This also meant that the system was left in some sort of autopilot mode.
The login screen offered various ways for identification, among them was the simple username/password option, which Jake - once again - thanked God for. The rest of the measures were way more advanced, things like biosignature or face recognition - no way he could bypass those in time. The age-old combination was child's play though. Or was it?
Jake suddenly felt his limitations without his wide array of tools which stood in his disposal throughout his entire career. There was nothing with him this time, not even a simple chip. He tried to recall the various passwords that belonged to UN officials he hacked over the years, but his thoughts were all over the place and he could not remember properly.
He looked back at Elmina, who was busy searching through the area still, mapping the things that need to be taken away. Time was ticking on them and if he could not get in very quickly, the entire operation could be a bust. That is why he decided to follow a sudden idea.
"Elmina, um, what was the name of that relative of yours who was a high-ranking official in the UN?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I need it to enter the system..."
"Grant. He was Grant Lennox."
"Perfect." And he was back to working. He input the standard username created from full names (GLennox) and quickly went through a variety of common passwords. It worked! Just a couple tries later he was in the system. This Grant was not much of a security maniac, he thought. And this was a very great thing to know in that moment.

Once inside the mainframe, he was immediately greeted by a host of warning messages on the home screen. A few more prominent ones caught his eye:
'Warning: Outside conditions atypical. Please recalibrate the Apox system.'
'Warning: Power level critically low. Please ensure proper linkage to generations has been established.'
'Warning: Hull damage detected in multiple areas. Please dispatch engineers to resolve the problem.'
After putting these messages to the side, he checked his user rights. His clearance was fourth level, which was not the highest but still gave access to most information. "Now to find out where the fuck we actually are..." He launched an application. The UN logo itself was the loading screen until it was overtaken by a wide map of the world. There were red dots flashing on many of the larger cities, possibly indicating UN centres. Jake then initiated the GPS, to which another error message popped up, something about 'Missing satellites'. A rough search was conducted instead, which displayed the fallen Apox centre's location as Nantahala Forest, North Carolina.
"So we're probably in the middle of a plus 500 000 acre forest. That's...that's great news..." He announced, trying to remain calm and not lose all hope just yet.
"All right, where is the nearest functional UN base? Or...any base?" Elmina kept things to the point and did not let Jake panic.
"Franklin. 30-40 miles. Not exactly close..."
"We don't have many options... Either way, we have less than 10 minutes now. My search so far has not been as effective as yours, unfortunately, so I need to hurry."

Jake nodded and turned back to the panel. For the next couple of seconds he was just moving through the main interface aimlessly, unsure of what to check on next. Yes, he - and everyone else - had tons of questions about the entire situation, but their current state did not allow for too much browsing. He had to uncover the most valuable information in a very short order.
Eventually he stumbled upon an extensive folder titled 'Security logs'. It branched out to many subfolders, most of them having jumbled names and the tag 'TS' at their end. These same ones were also further encrypted and locked down - Jake's fourth level clearance was not enough here. The first folder he could actually get into did not even have logs in it: there was only a single image file, which showed the basic map of Apox centre, divided by level. He did not look through it too extensively, instead just putting it out on one of the secondary screens and calling for Elmina once again: "Hey, I found a map, might be useful for the scavenging!"
The main folder was huge and he wanted to read as much of its content as possible. After browsing through a couple of the deck maintenance logs, he noticed an interesting pattern: all records ended in 2100. On a particular day, all files ended abruptly. There were no error messages which would sign system malfunction either, everything was clean. As if the centre was completely abandoned one day to another...
For all Jake knew, the Apox was a pretty well-running business for the UN. What better way was there to completely isolate the most dangerous criminals from society than freezing them for infinity in outer space?
He sorted the files by date of creation and opened the first (and in chronological order, last) one, conveniently titled "FinalNotice.doc".

'To all UN personnel employed within the Apox Space-Penitentiary,

After a year-long legal battle and billions of dollars spent in the cause, it is up to me to announce with a heavy heart that tomorrow, July 4th, 2100 will be the last day of the Apox centre's active functionality. The reasons behind this are complicated, it is as much of a move to appeal to the masses as it is a financial outbreak. Operating such an advanced maximum-security prison was no small investment by the UN and the project has been bombarded since its inception by negative press from the various so-called 'humanitarian' organizations around the globe who still think dangerous criminals should have 'rights' and whatnot.
The upcoming Independence Day just makes the PR that much easier. The people will be overjoyed to hear that their hated 'tool of oppression' is officially closing down. But fear not, my enlightened and open-minded brothers and sisters - I have assured personally that exactly one hundred of the worst offenders locked up in there will stay in the freezer. Perchance they will be revisited when the situation is more in our favour once again.

No one shall remain in the Apox after tomorrow. The Prime system will be set to AI control to ensure basic maintenance tasks and the cryochambers are still functional. I expect a report after everything is done from the head of security.

Signed,
Sir Herrity Apox'

"The bastards..." That's all Jake could say after reading through the farewell document by the founder of the Apox himself. The lines reeked of UN corruption and malice and suddenly he did not mind anymore if this entire place blew up on the spot. There must've been only a few minutes left now anyways before the generator broke down and they were out of this hellhole for good.
He looked to the side, Elmina was still busy doing some last bits of scavenging. Following a sudden idea, Jake opened up the inmate database. He ran through the entries, looking to identify the people in the group through their appearance. They had quite a...diverse roster as it turned out. Former Russian president, notable member of the prominent rebel organization Gaia, drug cartel kingpin, and these were just a few of the personalities who came together by chance after the Apox crashed. Through and through, Jake was looking at ruthless and manipulative individuals - save a few who were imprisoned for entirely different reasons - who would stop at nothing to reach their goals. How he would navigate through all the webs they weaved was still unclear, but at least now he was armed with information - and as he always said, that was half the victory.

"Done?" He was snapped out of his thoughts by Elmina, who apparently just finished her work as well. He quickly put the database tab away.
"Yes, I guess. Too bad we have nothing to store all this info on..."
"Maybe next time. For now, you gotta help me carrying a couple of these weapons in this bag. Thanks to that map you found, I managed to get into a secret weapon locker. It was filled with guns and ammo still." She explained as she dropped down the large sack on the ground between them. "You're...not the kind who would shoot me in the face as soon as given the chance, right?"
"I thought we had at least this much trust between each other already..." Jake picked up what looked like a shotgun from the bag. He never held such caliber in his hands before, but fortunately this first sensation did not start any...homicidal thoughts in him. "I think we're ready to um...get the heck out of here. For good."

Christine was starting to feel his weight. The cryostasis probably hadn't worn off completely and her muscles made her regret the considerable exertion it meant to support somebody who had trouble walking on his own. There was an itch in her throat and her stomach contracted, reminding her that she hadn't had any food or water since before she was put in the freezer.
A quarter mile wasn't much, at least it shouldn't be to her, but she was slowly getting aware of the fact that they really were out in the middle of nowhere and her equipment was considerably worse than the last time she'd been out here, especially considering she had no idea where she was or where she was headed. At least I'm not alone this time.

"Might I have the name of my saviour?"

The raspy voice and thick accent distracted her from her not-so-fond memories and she turned her face to see the man she was carrying smiling at her, a charm about him as if he wasn't injured or weak. She met his eyes - her own not glittering as pure gold, as he had hoped, but flecked with emerald - and there was a strength in them that was mesmerizing: The will of a man who had ruled a country and cheated death. It was blemished by his agony but she had watched people fall to pieces even at the mere prospect of physical injury and torture and while she hadn't experienced exactly what he was going through, seeing the bloody gauze at his cheek made her scars itch and she remembered all too well that her own pain, confusion and isolation had brought her within an inch of breaking.

"Christine", she said softly, giving him a weak, encouraging smile. "I've been called other things, flattering and not, but my name is Christine. I'm not the one who saved you from the wreck, though."

That was when one of the newer arrivals, an attractive man who looked like he was about her age, came within talking distance and engaged Makarid in a conversation. Christine noticed that he was careful not to come too close, well aware of the gun in her hand. In truth, she wasn't sure if she could have reacted quickly enough if one of the people around her decided to attack her now but she hoped that she had made enough of an impression on them that nobody would try. That, and she was assuming that the other blonde - her name was Laura, right? - was watching her back and looking out for the old man with the medicine.

"I had a government job..."

She listened to the exchange and, when it was over, chuckled to herself.

"'Government job', was it?", she whispered to the man at her shoulder. "You're selling yourself short, President Ristachev."

As she did, the cryochamber - what was left of it anyway - came into view. It had taken longer than it should have, 10, 15 minutes for what should be a five minute walk. Hopefully, Elmina found what she needed and could take care of the last wounds. If they moved this slowly, even a walk of 20 miles could take two days or more.