“I had a government job, a while back,” The Russian man replied. “You might have seen me on the TV now and then.”

Eli squinted at that, taking a deeper look at the ravaged man. His cold blue eyes flashed beneath his furrowed eyebrows, taking in every detail of Ristachev’s face. How could he not place it? He had definitely seen him before, apparently on TV. Why couldn’t he remember? He blamed it on having just come out of cryostatis. He was just a bit groggy from his nap.

“I don’t suppose you’re one of those famous American terrorists I’d have heard of?”

Eli laughed at that. “Terrorist? I don’t believe in anything half as strong as someone would need to to do something like that.”

In some ways, he could be considered a terrorist. He was no stranger to some of the major terror organizations and certainly didn’t discriminate when it came to his business. Terrorists were his best customers. But Eli didn’t think of himself as one, and he certainly had no allegiances.

“Though they do make some of what I do quite a bit more lucrative. Or... did, I suppose.”

Eli looked away from the two, taking in his new surroundings a bit more. His mind wandered, wondering where they could be. The prison could have landed anywhere in the world, and truth be told they were lucky they weren’t all dead in the ocean.

When he turned back, he noticed the woman whispering something to the Russian. If he tried to listen in he could have heard her, but he decided to let them have their bit of privacy. He was no threat in his condition and she was too encumbered by his weight to act quickly enough if she was planning any funny business.

He did manage to hear the girls final words though. President Ristachev. And suddenly he remembered. The dead-but-not-quite Russian President. He had been deposed when Eli was a kid, but he still remembered learning about him in school. Weird and interesting were the words that came to mind.

Samuel took the pack from Elmina, giving her an approving nod as she gathered her diminishing crew and vanished into the Apox. A quick, noisy rummage through the pack revealed it to be brimming with medical supplies. Of course, thought Sam with a smirk. Hopefully Doc would be able to keep herself safe and rejoin the others soon. Sam’s medical knowledge was strictly limited to putting band-aids on scraped knees and how not to kill someone with an overdose of anesthetics. Until now, anything else had been unnecessary. In all honesty, he didn’t really enjoy getting his hands all that dirty. His clients certainly liked to have their “packages” delivered in a mostly unadulterated, but restrained, state. Sam’s inability to stay out of things and imagination filled in the rest.

He couldn’t argue against the young woman’s request for help with undressing the dead man. It had started out as his idea, after all, although in his mind he had not pictured himself being the one to deal with it. He eavesdropped while he could, gathering people’s names and housing information, and continuously begrudging the fact that he was unable to clearly focus on the crimes listed on their wrists. As the group began to move towards the woods he lingered closer to the back, giving him an opportunity to continue observing the others. The nervous glances from the others and the own man’s refusal to cooperate painted the Beast, who had wandered off on his own, as the largest liability to the group. Sam hoped that perhaps the big man would prove to be a larger deterrent than a threat, assuming he ever fully integrated himself.

His gut told him otherwise.

The glacial pace he had taken to trail behind the group also gave Sam the time to appreciate the finer things, like the ache from his joints as they thawed out, the dryness in his throat, and the emptiness in his stomach. Every step was another reminder: hurt, hunger, thirst, hurt, hunger, thirst, hurt, hunger, thirst, hurt, hunger, thirst, hurt, hung, Fuck! Sam shook his head. The sight of the cryochamber was sweet relief for only a moment--having a place to rest only meant now they would have to scavenge for anything of use.

No point bitching about it, old man, thought Sam as he rubbed his temples and shifted the medical bag from one shoulder to the other. Sam carefully made his way over to the cryochamber as he avoided the scraps of shattered space debris. It was like its own tiny replica of the Apox: a dark, twisted wreckage in the middle of a serene forest that nothing should have been able to walk away from. As much flak as Herrity Apox and the UN got for wasting everyone’s tax dollars, at least the man knew how to build a space station to pass a crash test with a top safety pick. Sam could appreciate that. He touched the cyrochamber with the back of his hand. It had cooled from it fall.

“Here, lemme give you a hand,” said Sam, approaching Christine and Ristachev and attempting to help her set the Russian in a comfortable position leaning against the chamber. “Should have offered my hand earlier; forgot my manners.”

Crouching down by Ristachev’s side, Sam said, “Sorry pal, I’m sure that hurts like hell. I would love to treat you with some painkillers, but the last time I played doctor the patient ended up handcuffed to a water heater in a warehouse basement waiting for a man known only as the Dermatologist. Hey, I agree, dumb name, but when you see a man wrapped in a coat made out of human flesh you start--sorry, the point is I’d probably end up hurting you more than helping you with this shit.”

“So, Red,” said Sam as he turned to Christine, standing up with a clap of his hands and holding them together in front of his chest like a mischievous child who was trying to appear to be an angel. “You said something about teaching us a thing or two about becoming a Scout, right? I suppose we’ll skip the merit badges and the door-to-door cookie selling to focus on the more important stuff like avoiding dehydration, yes? Or should we just sit on our thumbs and hope Doc brings us some juice boxes?"

"Smart man. Nothing good comes from playing saviour" was all Ristachev responded to Eli before Christine caught his attention again.

"Being strung up from a lamppost will teach you to learn to swallow some humble pie, my dear." Lamppost... So it's not just a story. I wonder how he survived that. But despite the grim subject and his less-than-ideal condition, he managed another smile that, somehow, didn't seem awkward - only a little bloody. "But I'm sure whoever I have to thank for that isn't half as captivating as you, Miss Christine. So I'm afraid you'll find yourself suffering the brunt of my affections."

"'Miss Christine', was it? I doubt Jane Austen's characters had to deal with cryostasis or injured former politicians and convicts." She shook her head in mock-exasperation at his flattery and smiled back at him. A small voice in the back of her head warned her of getting too close, of trusting somebody because she wanted to trust him. Nothing wrong with flirting a little.

She moved him over to the chamber and slowly set him down as the old man came over to help, making the entire affair smoother... until he started talking. The scene he described made Christine's hand, still resting on Ristachev's shoulder, twitch in anger. She had heard rumors about people who kidnapped people for a fee. It was one thing to kill a person, to act out of passion or conviction, but to deliver somebody to their supposed murderer was disgusting.

Still, she managed to hide her displeasure and Ristachev's response gave her the time to regain her composure.
"I'm managing, but if you have anything strong and bitter then I'd be most grateful."

His attempt at an angelic appearance didn't help with her impression of him but what he said wasn't wrong and it would be a while longer until Elmina and the computer guy came back. So she left the Russian's side to be more visible.

"Okay, let's talk about navigation. Look around." She raised her hands and pointed at the woods around them. And really, it was the first time that day that she herself took a moment to look at her surroundings.

The smell of moist soil, herbs and fresh resin; the gentle cool you only felt in the shadow of a tree, never in the concrete jungle; the familiar sight of berry bushes and plants - poisonous and edible - and the soothing flicker of light through the thick crown of the trees... It woke memories more vivid than even the flashes she had seen before her inner eye when she remembered her last months before cryostasis, images of her childhood, fragments of her youth and adult life. They feelings they evoked were mixed, to say the least: She was caught somewhere between nostalgia and terror.

"See the greenish grey stuff on the trees? That is moss, ladies and gentlemen, and the key to finding your way around here. It only grows on the side that's averted from the sun but that could be both north and south, if you don't know which side of the globe you're on. So, where are we? Anybody wanna take a guess?"

Christine didn't really expect anybody to answer but she gave them a second anyway. She wasn't entirely sure if it occurred to them but to her, it became clear once more: They were waiting for her to continue. Even those that feigned disinterest had their ears pricked. Nobody talked; not even a whisper disturbed the silence, with the Apox too far away for its sounds to reach them and all wildlife that called this forest their home scared away by the crash. They were all city-based criminals, all except for the Beast and Christine.

"Well, as you may have noticed, we are in a mixed forest, which are more common in the Northern hemisphere. But I actually recognize some of the plants and trees around here, so unless these species can be found in Europe too, I'm 99% sure that we're in the North America, which basically means United States - up north, the woods look different. So, in short: The moss tells you where north is. The opposite direction is south, to the right you have east, and to the left, west - you've all heard those before. Knowing what directions everybody's talking about is half the trick."

Christine gave each of them a glance, to make sure that they understood. Something was off, bothering her, but she couldn't put her finger on it; her instructions were simple, almost mechanic, recounted as she had been taught, but her conscious mind was still preoccupied with memories of her last few trips into the wild.

She continued:
"The other half is points of reference. For example, the giant column of smoke from the Apox", she nodded south, towards the blackened sky. "Once we get a move on, you wanna look out for mountains, hills, special trees and rocks that stand out and tell you where you are - it helps with getting a sense of distance and relative position. There's a lot more to surviving out here but not getting lost is..."
Then it hit her. Somebody was missing. The Maori? She thought she had seen him, at the fringes of this little clearing, but there was somebody else...

"Where's Laura?"
The blonde with the other gun was gone. And then, she heard a gunshot in the distance. Suddenly, she felt very, very vulnerable. What's taking so long, Elmina?!

After following and observing the group for far longer than he wanted or needed to, Hemi decided that enough was enough, and from that point on took matters into his own large hands; it would be a lengthy process, setting up some semblance of what was needed to survive out here in the woods, but, he chuckled to himself, if anyone could survive then it wouldn't be those clowns who had firstly gone back into a wreckage of a space prison to find supplies, or secondly the walking sick and wounded - and deceptive - who he had last seen sitting around outside the Boss Ladies cryochamber. Eh, fuck 'em! He would rejoin them when and where he saw fit, if he ever did, after all they would be easy to find and he had few worries now that he was here in this world.

The first thing he did, once deep enough past the treeline to remain unseen, was slink back to the groups original starting position and make sure he was not being observed...once sure of this, he proceeded swiftly out of cover only long enough to grab the still-cooling carcass of the dead inmate, sling it over his shoulder, and retreat back into the forest with it.

Upon finding a clearing not too far from where he knew his fellow inmates - at least a few of them, not counting the other seventy or so still on the loose! - to be, he marked it with strips of material from his own prison suit and pondered on what to do next; he could either go in search of a water source, leaving the body there for the moment, create a lean-to shelter from the bountiful supply of wood and branches hereabouts, or start a fire and get the cooking process going. Each option seemed like a good one, but it was a while before he finally settled on going a wee bit deeper into the forest and, gods willing, getting to grips with the first drink he would have had for a century.

It did occur to him to return to the Apox, find a melting cryochamber, and simply drink some of the liquid from there, but who knew what chemicals it might contain or what foul things the UN might have done even to the icy traps of the prison.

Time seemed to move forward almost in slow motion, the senses of the free Maori prisoner open and alert to there fullest extent, listening for the sounds of wildlife or more preferably of running water - whether from a river, a stream or a spring it really did not matter. Yet, as time went inexorably on, he had been walking for a good half hour (according to his wrist device anyway) and found nothing that looked remotely like a water source.

That was until he did...

It was not much, not much at all, a trickling sliver of water squeezing between two slabs of rock - barely enough for him alone, although he drank his share as swiftly as he could.

Now, back to the clearing.

Thankfully his stiffening buddy had not seen fit to move anywhere, which was as it should be - he might have been legitimately afraid if it had been any other way - and with a self-assured ease of movement went about attempting to create a fire from whatever he could get his hands upon.

Fuel? Check.

Kindling? Check.

He had no lighter or source of igniting the driest wood he could gather in a short space of time, but this was no real problem; he used a method traditional to the Maori to create an ember, akin to the bow used by many brushcraft experts, but requiring much more effort on his part. In short, a stick was stuck into the groove of a flatter and blocker piece of wood, then scratched back and forth at speed. It took a lot of strength, and Hemi was not all that thrilled with using so much energy, but once an ember was slipped into his handful of tinder and exposed to plenty of oxeygen, well, he had fire! True, it was only a simple and small one, but the thrill of creating it never left you...not even after a hundred years in an ice-block.

Without a pot and plentiful water to boil the body in, the usual way to strip it of flesh, he might need to cook it in a more simple way; slowly his eyes looked from the flickering flames and back to the body, then back to the flames again.

Why are things never easy?!

Points and counterpoints, Jake thought as the two began their journey back down to the surface.
The Apox was big. This was one solid fact he had to realize multiple times already. He had no idea of the exact lengths and sizes when the station was still whole and floating peacefully in outer space, but it could not have been that much greater than it was right now. The command centre was on the top of this iron monstrosity and this little journey he went on with Elmina turned out to be something alike climbing a mountain: reaching the apex was only half the challenge.

By all means their mission could be considered a success however. They found out where they were and where they had to go now, also acquiring a quite badass bag of weaponry for themselves considering the circumstances. Jake personally also learned much about what kind of people they were dealing with here, something that was currently more valuable to him than any gun. Not like carrying one of the shiny death machines hurt though - no matter how much he sucked at shooting.
Now they just had to get down alive. Nothing special happened on the way up, not much else should happen on the way back either. Easy come, easy go.

This was relatively true through the first couple minutes of their walk. Time flew by swiftly and most people have already escaped the smoking and crumbling Apox centre by now. The two could only hear a couple of troubled screams here and there, the poor ones still stuck in here were clearly starting to lose their sanity. Not them though. They were moving with hasty steps, Jake keeping close to Elmina as they turned corners and took stairways.
The constant avoiding of obstacles and the descending on seemingly endless amount of stairs got tiring rather quick though. They got to about halfway of their path before Elmina stopped and started searching through the sizable bag she carried all the way through. Jake reclined to the nearest wall and took deep breaths. He was slowly but surely growing throughoutly exhausted of the whole ordeal. The Apox is not a fucking track course you can just make rounds in as morning exercise, he thought. He knew he had to hold on for very long still, the day was far from over. This half minute break was nothing, he was aching to be able to sit down and rest at last - preferably somewhere where getting shot or mauled or eaten alive was not a top priority danger. He did not even dare thinking about such luxury needs like satisfying that ever-growing hunger and thirst...

A brief respite was finally his after Elmina handed him a small pill without any further description. A hydration capsule that was as he examined it from closer. What a godsend. He took it in frantically and enjoyed the momentarily joy fully. Suddenly his state did not look so bleak, he remembered his partner's words as well: if all is right, the group will be at her pod by now, which is not too far. He can get rid of some of the exhaustion there and hopefully figure out the best way to progress further with the others.
Jake's hopes were once again high and he started walking downwards again with much greater determination.

Never mind.
Not even a minute later, a massive explosion could be heard and the entire facility promptly turned black.
"What, the generator is gone already?!" He asked in desperation, but there was no answer. In fact he could not even see Elmina anymore, much less the path ahead of them. He looked all around himself in panic, but he did not dare to make a step in any direction. They were on the massive staircase in this very moment as well, one too many steps in the wrong way could result in a painful and very embarrassing death from plummeting down into the ground.
The next thing he felt was a strong push on his side which made him ram into the wall with a surprised "Ugh!". He saw it was Elmina's doing and was about to question her confounded when he heard the quick steps of someone else becoming increasingly louder. It was another inmate who ran straight past them and soon served to conveniently confirm Jake's suspicions: falling from here was not a pleasant experience.
It was not as big of a drop as he imagined though and Elmina noticed that too - soon they were off on the stairwell that would bring their freedom in short order now. The medic had Jake by his hand as they found it and started descending. Step by step. On their knees.

"Oh for fuck's sake no no no..." he muttered angrily as the pain kicked in immediately from the wound which was still completely untended to and now hurt all over his left knee. He hissed like some enraged snake on every stair, the agonizing crawl pushed his resistances to the limit. And not to mention the uneasing amount of corpses they stumbled on like every second step. Jake, more than occupied with battling his own pain was not too fazed, but it seemed like his partner was - she regularly slowed on their already turtle level speed and the bag she had to carry surely did not help either. There was suddenly a chance they might not even make it. "Look, I don't think either of us wants to die crawling in darkness! We made it so far, can't stop now dammit!" He was hoping she will be able to make one last push now when they most needed it.

Jake was not sure how much his words actually helped but they did finally spot the end of their painstaking journey after much struggle. They were not the only ones who could say that though, there were a couple others also making the last steps out. They did not care the slightest however. This was it. Their final rush.
"You ready?" They stopped for a moment.
"Never coming back!"
And with a sprint through the exit, they were once again in the green, on the clearing and most importantly, out of the forsaken Apox centre for good.

The action was far from over however as soon they were approached by an unknown man. Jake aimed with his shotgun, but before anything, Elmina already shot him down without any hesitation. The only thing that accomplished though was making the place ten times more dangerous for them - they knew they could not stay. "Run!" Came the order and the two dashed into the forest, the heat of the moment once again putting Jake's rummaged knee on the back burner - who needs medical assistance anyways when you can just constantly put your life at risk?

He saw that. He fucking saw that. Her hand, a twitch, but not just that. The quiet judgment in her eyes. The slight turn of the body away from him. The uncontrollable tells from another human when they feel discomfort, or hate, or fear. Sam hadn’t noticed it before; something he had just said, then? His hand rubbed the cuff on his wrist. Perhaps he would keep his stories to himself, then. He didn’t need her as an enemy. He listened to her explanation, nodding occasionally, but generally lazily drifting his eyes around as if he wasn’t as focused as he really was. Seem harmless; play dumb.

After all, he was a good old guy who had made a few bad decisions, right?

“Where’s Laura?” she asked, after

Where was Laura? Sam thought he had kept his eyes on almost everyone as they had made their way into the woods. He doubted she slipped away on purpose, although she did have a gun to defend herself with. That didn’t sit well with Sam: it meant there was either a dangerous crook with a gun roaming around alone, or a dangerous crook that had killed Laura, now had her gun, and was roaming around alone. A gun that would have been better served in one of their hands, even if he personally didn’t like using one. Too messy. Too noisy. Too traceable. Barbiturates and other drugs, those were a little cleaner. Just a tiny pin prick, hardly noticeable, and no pusher would ever risk his own neck on a hunch. Still, with the disappearance of the girl he felt the need to arm himself. He just needed an opportunity.

It came as the answer to Christine’s question: a gunshot. As the others look around for the source, or perhaps tried to use triangulation, moss, and smoke to figure out the direction of the blast, Sam slid the medical bag behind his back and grabbed what he needed. He was thankful that he had taken the time to inspect the items earlier. He slipped both the sedative and the syringe into his jumpsuit. He doubted anybody would notice, and already had an excuse ready in case if one of his fellow survivors were more aware than they seemed. Ristachev had asked for some medicine regardless of Sam’s allegedly poor medical knowledge. He saw sedative, assumed it would ease the pain, but was distracted by the gunshot. You know, because I was so worried that poor Laura might be in danger, he mused.

Perhaps Elmina would notice. He doubted she would have everything in the bag memorized, and if he did Sam was already working on an alibi. Elmina would perhaps never trust him with the medical bag again, but he had all he needed out of it anyway.

“I thought she was following me,” said Sam, knowing distinctively that she had not been. His voice dripped with a practiced naivety. “Watching our backs since she had the gun and all. Why’d she slip away?”

He looked over to Christine, believing that differing to her would repair whatever it was that had turned her. He somehow doubted it would help.

“What should we do?” asked Sam, sighing and rubbing his neck. “We could look for her. That’d be the right thing to do, but...given the circumstances.” He shrugged half-heartedly. “All the moss won’t help us find her, and I sure as heck don’t feel good wandering around out there with a bunch of jerks playing cowboy in the woods. We should just stay put until the others arrive.”

“Unless you disagree, of course,” said Sam, flashing a wolfish smile at the others.

The forest was not particularly dense or thick, but the general absence of any trails or trodden paths still made the two's passage rough. They were in the middle of a national forest after all, nature was left largely undisturbed here. Jake briefly wondered what kind of potentially valuable plants and vegetation were they stamping on as they made their way through the lavish landscape. This was the absolute least of their concerns of course, they were still running as quick as they could to get to a safe distance away from the clearing infested with other survivors and to shake off any ambitious pursuers.

They could not keep up this pace for long and soon they had to stop to catch their breaths. Both of them felt exhausted and the weight of the weapon bag was starting to have its toll on Elmina. She wanted to keep the hydration capsules for greater emergencies and also for other members of the group. If they were still alive, that is. Her pod was not far from the clearing, only about a quarter mile - a 5-minute walk normally. In these conditions and circumstances however, that meant nothing. Many were injured still and she was especially curious about how the two men she helped on were holding up - although she would not show it, as a long-time medic it was part of her nature to care for others like that. She was hoping they will find everyone all right. Everyone except the tattooed man. She would not mind him being dead too much.

Their rest once again did not take longer than a couple seconds before they set off again, walking with a steady speed this time. Jake's dark brown eyes scoured the environment constantly, he really wanted to avoid any further surprises and keep this - hopefully short - remainder of the journey peaceful. Even if that meant having to deal with his own, increasingly worse wounds. Walking through the middle of a forest was about the worst thing he could have done in his state: the numerous branches sticking out here and there reminded him of the loosened steel pieces at the Apox.
"Even nature wants us dead..." he murmured as he put away another bark, trying to keep them away from his knee. He was slightly ahead of Elmina who was weighed down considerably by the bag that held their 'loot' from the former prison. He knew it would be chivalrous to take it from her for a while, but he himself was weak and weary. That was why he tried to at least clear the path ahead of them to make both of their walks easier.

About three minutes passed since they escaped the centre and rushed into this forest. There was no pod in sight just yet, though Elmina would sometimes hint they were getting close. Besides this and the occasional muttered words and sighs there was not much conversation between the two. Jake had plenty to tell and Elmina had plenty to ask, but both preferred to stay silent and focus on their path for now.
Eventually, curiosity have overtaken the former and he asked his partner: "So uh...what are we planning to do when we reach the others?"
"Well..." Elmina began. "We need to get everyone on the same page first. We have the weapons, now we just need to make sure no one uses them on the other. Not right away, at least."
"It's gonna take some convincing to get them to walk like forty miles with just a promise..."
"Do they have a choice? Do we have a choice? This area is dangerous as it is and I don't think any of us could survive for any more than one day on these extremely limited supplies..." She tried not to make the situation look too hopeless, but the odds were not in their favour at all. "At least we have a direction now. And I have to thank you for that."
Jake was probably more surprised than he should have been by those last words.
"Oh, heh, don't mention it. I could make myself useful at last, even if I couldn't uncover much... Working in such high pressure situations was never my thing, you know."
"Well, you better get used to it now. I feel like we'll be needing your help many times in the future."
"Let's get to that future first, shall we?"

And with that, they quickened their steps and soon they finally spotted Elmina's downed pod. Walking closer, they also saw people there, which meant the group made their way there successfully. The red-haired woman - Christine DeWinter, as Jake found out from the database - was standing at the front, taking the lead of the ragtag bunch while the two were away.
Before they moved out of the denser vegetation however, Elmina pulled Jake back for a few moments.
"Try to look unflinched, all right? It is the two of us who have the serious firepower for now, we need to use this leverage to get everyone to work together and get ready for the next expedition. I trust you, and if we do this well, we'll all be able to trust each other. Ready?"
"I'll try..."

Jake made sure that his shotgun was ready to fire before they both stepped out into the open, facing the group.