08-08-2016, 03:55 PM
Ekene's grip on her shirt tightened, his face a rictus of fear. "It's her! It's her fault!"
Natalie untangled his hand gently. The vibrations of the distant shells chilled her, but if one were to hit the embassy there was little anyone could do to stop it. "It isn't,"
she told him firmly, but further comforts died in her throat. As he began to shake -- all pretence of childish bravery vanished -- she pulled him close instead, her chin resting on his head. "It's just the fighting. It's nowhere close."
The chaos of the camp moved around them. Cries of fear and uncertainty pierced the sanctuary she offered him, and she could feel the shallow cadence of his heart through his fragile ribcage. Her own pulse raged a deafening cry in her ears as she counted the booms, until - finally - silence.
He pulled away when the last tremors faded, dry-eyed but refusing to meet her gaze.
"Towels and water,"
she reminded him.
His gaze twitched up as he ran off. The legionnaire loomed overhead, and she stood to acknowledge him. They had barely spoken all day, a peace she had been content with, but the look on his face now shuddered a moment of blind panic in her gut. When Jay's name did not leave the soldier's lips - and she didn't really know why she'd either feared or expected it - she knew a moment's respite. Though the news he did share was no less grim.
None of these men were fit for action. Her impassive gaze travel amongst the legionnaires scrambling for the last remaining SUVs, most no more than walking wounded (and some even less than that). The Sierra Leonean auxiliaries outnumbered the trained soldiers. The Legion would be buying time with lives. It tightened in her gut, that realisation; or perhaps her helplessness in the face of such a sacrifice. She had no experience of war, nor even much in the way of training; she'd worked in education, not war-zones. But she couldn't shake the prickling feeling of responsibility.
She possessed a weapon that might change the tide, but lacked the control to implement it. Such a risk might hinder as much as help. If she could even summon it to use. Let alone convince them she was not simply a burden.
"Understood."
He pressed a canteen of water into her hands as he turned to jog away. The knot in her stomach grew heavier. She ought to be going with them.
"Where are they going?"
The voice rang quietly behind, and she turned to find Ekene returned already, rags in his hands instead of towels, and sans water. His eyes were wide, avidly following the Legionnaires's withdrawal. Despite their tumultuous start he'd grown used to their presence over the last few days and, like many here, drew comfort from their vigilance. Personal opinions of Jacques Danjou aside, his men were good men - always ready with a kind word or gesture, and they were loved for it.
"To protect us."
As the last of the vehicles trailed dust, Natalie turned and prised the fabric from his grasp. Her brow was pinched, the only indication of her worries. Was the attack retaliation? Or had Danjou failed? A decision hardened her gaze. She unclipped the badge from her belt and bent to pin it to Ekene's shirt. The embedded chip would monitor his location. It was the best she could promise him. "Laurene and Ayo are in our room. I need you to go and find them, Ekene. You take them and you hide. Not in the embassy. You go as far away as you can."
He stared at her, mortified by the abandonment. "Why aren't you coming?"
"I'll find you. No more questions."
He scowled at her, eyes glassy with betrayal. Then turned and ran. As the child disappeared, Natalie's attention lowered to the woman huddled on the ground. Her black eyes stared up, gaze descending as Natalie crouched back down. She took the girl's hands by the wrist, wordlessly began to pour water from the canteen to clear the vomit. Pressed the rags into her palms, then the container of water. "You should find some place safe as well."
In the camp around them her colleagues worked to assuage fears against the growing storm of panic, and she ought to have joined them. She heard their soothing words, preaching trust in their rag-tag defences. But they couldn't evacuate everyone, couldn't even arm them, and the peace and routine order of before was lost. Weeping and lyrical prayers punctuated the ache left by the Legion's departure. Even the roar of dropped shells had been better than this.
The world shimmered, unreal. Natalie forced the air in and out of her lungs. Despite the heat on her bare arms and the glare beating down on her head, her blood pumped cold. The fear was insidious, a sly invader. She pulled her hair into a knot, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain from her tender scalp, and traipsed to the edge of the embassy's grounds. Her heart beat in her throat. Within, she caressed the edges of a power she could not hold. Sat to take silent vigil of the horizon, on the steps leading to the building.
The road glistened empty.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
And wait.
Natalie untangled his hand gently. The vibrations of the distant shells chilled her, but if one were to hit the embassy there was little anyone could do to stop it. "It isn't,"
she told him firmly, but further comforts died in her throat. As he began to shake -- all pretence of childish bravery vanished -- she pulled him close instead, her chin resting on his head. "It's just the fighting. It's nowhere close."
The chaos of the camp moved around them. Cries of fear and uncertainty pierced the sanctuary she offered him, and she could feel the shallow cadence of his heart through his fragile ribcage. Her own pulse raged a deafening cry in her ears as she counted the booms, until - finally - silence.
He pulled away when the last tremors faded, dry-eyed but refusing to meet her gaze.
"Towels and water,"
she reminded him.
His gaze twitched up as he ran off. The legionnaire loomed overhead, and she stood to acknowledge him. They had barely spoken all day, a peace she had been content with, but the look on his face now shuddered a moment of blind panic in her gut. When Jay's name did not leave the soldier's lips - and she didn't really know why she'd either feared or expected it - she knew a moment's respite. Though the news he did share was no less grim.
None of these men were fit for action. Her impassive gaze travel amongst the legionnaires scrambling for the last remaining SUVs, most no more than walking wounded (and some even less than that). The Sierra Leonean auxiliaries outnumbered the trained soldiers. The Legion would be buying time with lives. It tightened in her gut, that realisation; or perhaps her helplessness in the face of such a sacrifice. She had no experience of war, nor even much in the way of training; she'd worked in education, not war-zones. But she couldn't shake the prickling feeling of responsibility.
She possessed a weapon that might change the tide, but lacked the control to implement it. Such a risk might hinder as much as help. If she could even summon it to use. Let alone convince them she was not simply a burden.
"Understood."
He pressed a canteen of water into her hands as he turned to jog away. The knot in her stomach grew heavier. She ought to be going with them.
"Where are they going?"
The voice rang quietly behind, and she turned to find Ekene returned already, rags in his hands instead of towels, and sans water. His eyes were wide, avidly following the Legionnaires's withdrawal. Despite their tumultuous start he'd grown used to their presence over the last few days and, like many here, drew comfort from their vigilance. Personal opinions of Jacques Danjou aside, his men were good men - always ready with a kind word or gesture, and they were loved for it.
"To protect us."
As the last of the vehicles trailed dust, Natalie turned and prised the fabric from his grasp. Her brow was pinched, the only indication of her worries. Was the attack retaliation? Or had Danjou failed? A decision hardened her gaze. She unclipped the badge from her belt and bent to pin it to Ekene's shirt. The embedded chip would monitor his location. It was the best she could promise him. "Laurene and Ayo are in our room. I need you to go and find them, Ekene. You take them and you hide. Not in the embassy. You go as far away as you can."
He stared at her, mortified by the abandonment. "Why aren't you coming?"
"I'll find you. No more questions."
He scowled at her, eyes glassy with betrayal. Then turned and ran. As the child disappeared, Natalie's attention lowered to the woman huddled on the ground. Her black eyes stared up, gaze descending as Natalie crouched back down. She took the girl's hands by the wrist, wordlessly began to pour water from the canteen to clear the vomit. Pressed the rags into her palms, then the container of water. "You should find some place safe as well."
In the camp around them her colleagues worked to assuage fears against the growing storm of panic, and she ought to have joined them. She heard their soothing words, preaching trust in their rag-tag defences. But they couldn't evacuate everyone, couldn't even arm them, and the peace and routine order of before was lost. Weeping and lyrical prayers punctuated the ache left by the Legion's departure. Even the roar of dropped shells had been better than this.
The world shimmered, unreal. Natalie forced the air in and out of her lungs. Despite the heat on her bare arms and the glare beating down on her head, her blood pumped cold. The fear was insidious, a sly invader. She pulled her hair into a knot, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain from her tender scalp, and traipsed to the edge of the embassy's grounds. Her heart beat in her throat. Within, she caressed the edges of a power she could not hold. Sat to take silent vigil of the horizon, on the steps leading to the building.
The road glistened empty.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
And wait.