บท 6: The last patrol
Back in her room, Chloé was inspecting her image in the mirror above the washstand. Her features were drawn, her complexion too pale, she had the feverish and slightly glazed look of alcoholic sleepless nights. Her smooth hairless head and hollow cheeks brought out her big eyes, she did not look well and yet she felt serene and relaxed. The soldiers of the squadron under her command were accustomed to her unusual look, even if her steel-blue eyes, strict and tough, still impressed them sometimes. She sprayed her face with fresh water, then dried it with a towel and stared again at the mirror. She had the look of an unstoppable madwoman. She looked like Daphné right in the middle of her revolutionary impulse.
This thought made her smile as she finished preparing and equipping herself. Daphné's spirit would accompany her today again. Some days, Chloé could feel her sister's presence in her. Sometimes, they even spoke in the mirror. The young woman knew that it was only a defense mechanism to deal with her grief. She'd rather sink deeper in madness than truly mourn for her twin.
Chloé adjusted her left gauntlet, the one that contained the catheters, still moist with the chimiocs she had taken a little earlier at the Worship Square. She was doing this deliberately, like a little provocation to Gili. She didn't like to be fussed over and babied so much but she realized that her friend had gradually become her only anchor in reality, the lifebelt that prevented her, against all odds, from completely sinking.
She carried her helmet under her arm and went out to meet with her squadron. Her men were, without a doubt, already ready. Speeding up, she reviewed in her head the check-list of her equipment. Everything was in order. Against her chest, she could feel the hard handle of the stun gun Taser that never left her. However, it was not part of the soldiers' kit. She'd managed to obtain one on the black market to ensure her own safety if she had to go out of the city, to face the No-lights living outside. The arkian No-Lights, such as the Shadow Girls, were the responsibility of the Special Forces.
The weapon was reassuring, giving her confidence. Of course, showing her fear was out of the question. Her men followed her in the middle of dangers, they should be able to rely on her self-control and ability to make the right decisions. The squadron had to its credit a few feats worthy of substantial rewards. They had to live up to their reputation as a fearless troop.
Today again, they would stand on the front line and go out of the city to try and uproot these leeches called No-Lights or Outcasts. Maybe Chloé would start with a short pep talk to motivate her soldiers. She always used a variation of the last speech she heard before being promoted. It was just before the last terpa.
On that day, so long ago, after the famous discourse, they'd gone out of the city through the South Gate of Ark City aboard several armored vehicles for a territorial patrol. War had been raging between the No-Lights and the arkians. On their way back, they'd spotted a man wearing the soldier's uniform and lying on the road. As the patrol and their shift had been coming to an end, the arkian soldiers had lost their concentration. They had fallen prey to an ambush.
Chloé happened to be in the foremost vehicle. As a newbie, it had been a rare chance for her to receive her orders directly from the squadron leader. As his chief bad been occupied with Chloé, one of the soldiers had decided to go out to rescue the unknown man on the ground. The events then had escalated to take a very unfavorable turn for the whole section.
Surprisingly over-armed, these No-Lights had left nothing to chance and had shown no mercy. The violent assault had taken the arkian soldiers by surprise. Tear gases, which were asphyxiating as well, had forced them out of their armored vehicle, which had then been set on fire. Chloé had felt utterly shocked.
In the blink of an eye, the arkians had been disarmed. They were then at the No-lights' mercy. Those who, like Chloé, had tried to resist had been beaten until they lost consciousness. Before being knocked unconscious, the young quick-witted woman had pretended to fall to the ground and had stopped moving, thus avoiding the blows to wait for an opportunity to escape.
The section had been in poor shape, defeated in just a few minutes. Shame had fueled Chloé's revolt, however, she'd had to force herself to remain motionless on the ground. She couldn't help but inwardly chew over a vengeance worthy of this affront to her honor, as well as the honor of her section, her squadron and her city.
The No-lights, still on alert, had kept firing on the few remaining soldiers of the section while watching over their prisoners. The strategy and modus operandi of the assailants had far exceeded everything the arkians had seen so far. A new tribe had undoubtedly entered the territory, another contender trying to monopolize the water from the river that supplied Ark City.
The other sections of the squadron patrolling the area, still sheltered in their vehicles, had been unable to coordinate their actions. Some had tried to use weapons that were useless at this short distance, others had labored to spread out according to an obscure tactic. Chaos had rapidly engulfed the squadron bereft of its leader.
However, when an enucleated and bloody eye had landed on the windshield of the first still operational armored vehicle, the entire column had been immediately set in motion. A common fit of terror had united them all and the vehicles had rushed at high speed to take refuge in the city, unceremoniously driving over the silhouette still lying on the ground, which happened to be nothing more than a dummy filled with Lichen.
Still lying on the ground, Chloé could glimpse the high walls of Ark City. The sirens had been wailing, responding to those of the armored vehicles which had been desperately and urgently calling for the doors to be opened. However, the city sentries guarding the gate had turned them down, leaving the heavy doors tightly shut. Protected by the city's defenses, the vehicles had then positioned themselves in front of the walls, facing the outside, and had opened fire on the fighters, both friends and enemies.
However, the No-Light fighters as well as Chloé's section had been too far to be concerned by the gunfire in any ways. The deafening cannonades and a thick dust cloud had been the only proof of the arkian counterattack. But the young woman couldn't afford to mull over how lame it was. She'd resolutely leaped at the opportunity given by this diversion and had crawled to find shelter under the empty and burnt down vehicle which had previously transported them. The slowly dying flames on the wreckage had provided her with the best cover. The other soldiers in her section, men and women, didn't get this chance and were met with the unenviable fate of being captured by No-Lights.
Bound hands and feet, the arkian soldiers had been stripped of their uniforms. Naked under the scorching sun, they'd reluctantly had to wait for the rest of the No-Light tribe to come closer. The whoops of the children playing with enucleated and dried eyes instead of marbles and the yappings of dogs excited by the smell of blood, had mingled with the calls of the women who demanded peace and quiet to their kids.
A tall old man with long, gray hair and a full beard had approached the prisoners to inspect them. A natural authority and dignity emanated from him. The contrast was striking between this man and the arkian captives. Nukledeus had wished for his people to be short, bald and pallid. Even the well-trained soldiers looked like puny little children when compared to the No-Lights. Naked, one could barely tell the difference between male and female soldiers. Only the thin scar at the lower abdomen showed that the procreative organs, removed during childhood, had been external.
Following the old man's directive, the arkian prisoners had been divided in two groups. From her hiding place, Chloé'd watched the operations, hoping nonetheless to find a way to help them. The group comprising most of the women had been left at the mercy of the young tribesmen. They'd begun by raping them and beating them up, then had set about breaking, one by one, each and every one of their bones, as well as all their teeth. Afterwards, bored of this distraction, they'd torn out all eyelids, ears and tongues, had removed the eyes to offer new marbles to the children and had cut off the roundest head to get a new ball. They had then started playing soccer, under the disgusted eyes of the arkians of the second group.
On the now blood-red ground, the mutilated bodies of the unfortunates had not been left unattended for long. After the brutal assaults of men came the fierce maws of the dogs fighting for the best pieces of meat. Chloé had closed her eyes briefly and had offered a prayer to Nukledeus for her fellow soldiers. She didn't know when the victims had died but she felt she had seen a few corpses still twitching after the first bites.
It was now the second group's turn. The old man who had selected the still-alive arkians had barked a couple of orders and the No-lights had lit a fire. They'd started to wash every nook and cranny of the skin of the arkian prisoners with warm water. Then, they'd used the remaining water to perform enema until the bowels had been almost pristine.
Afterwards, as thoroughly as for the cleaning, they'd removed eyelids, ears and tongues with care before cooking them, adding them to the other group's torn lids, ears and tongues, turning them into everyone's favorite delicacies. The dishes had circulated to be shared by the delighted No-Lights. Chloé could imagine the horror-struck lidless eyes of her companions, all proud arkian soldiers.
Carrying on with the cooking of festive dishes, the chefs had lit a torch to grill the previously cleaned skin of the arkians and make it crisp. Chloé had felt nauseous when she had smelled the scent of burnt flesh which made the No-Lights drool. All she could think of was running away and going back to the city.
The cooks had cut a blood vessel in their victims'thighs and had collected the fresh blood of the finally dead arkians. Then, they had easily sliced the perfectly cooked skin, crisp on the surface and tender otherwise, and had arranged the warm bite-sized pieces on a dish. The bloodless and somewhat still raw corpses had then been chopped up and divided between the families to be prepared according to their tastes.
At sunset, small campfires had appeared here and there for dinner. Some dogs were still fighting over the remaining carcasses or harassed the cooks who had been busy preparing offal, blood sausages and other kinds of deli meat.
The noise had gone down together with the sun but there remained a hubbub of lively conversations and barks just loud enough to mask the rumbling of an engine in the distance, just out of Arch City.
Chloé had slipped out of her hiding place, carefully remaining out of sight. Looking like a knight riding his proud battle steed, a black-clad biker had appeared. He was speeding like the wind.
Without stopping, he'd brushed past her and grabbing her waist, he had taken her away. He'd skidded while making a U-turn and had taken this chance to put her on the bike's seat. Chloé had held on her savior tightly. She could hear the enraged shouts of a few No-Lights but most of them, already sated or in the middle of their feast, hadn't noticed the fugitives.
The speedster's engine had roared with each acceleration. When the bike had taken off after passing a small dune, Chloé couldn't help but squeal in delight despite the tragic situation. She'd never ever felt so free. In the blink of an eye, her savior had led her to the North Gate, steering around Ark City at a reasonable distance.
They'd stopped in a ditch near the wall. There was no access but they were well hidden from both the enemies of the outside and the guards of the city. Both fugitives got off the motorbike and the rider approached Chloé with a syringe :
– I prepared a sleeping drug. I can't run the risk of showing our secret passageways to a soldier.
The voice had been, without a doubt, feminine. Chloé'd wanted to thank the woman who'd just saved her life but she couldn't find the words. She was facing a No-Light from within the city, it had been her first time seeing one.
Tall but a lot thiner than the No-Light cannibals, the woman didn't have a single angle on her curved silhouette.
Chloé was wondering if the helmet concealed thick hair, eyelashes and eyebrows. Hair was so unusual and outstanding for an fellow arkian, but she didn't dare to ask. She'd stared at the No-Light from head to toes, obviously impressed. Was Daphné flaunting the bearing of a warrior goddess, as well ?
As the woman had been coming closer, Chloé'd nodded in assent, pointing at the syringe, still speechless. Before falling asleep, Chloé'd heard the No-light whispering in her ear laughingly :
– No need to thank me, I'm indebted to Daphné. I'm just repaying a favor.
After so many years, her twin sister was still watching over her. She had still been alive at the time of this event.
The drug had been blurring Chloé's thoughts, she could hardly keep her eyes opened. Her legs were like jelly. She mumbled :
– Who...are...you ?
– My name's Mona, of the Shadow Girls.
Chloé had missed the following words when she had lost consciousness.
Ever since this event, the territorial patrols had been forbidden. Arkians only went out of the city to check on the river, in case of absolute necessity. The outskirts of Ark City were left to the No-Lights tribes which ended up fighting one another. As the new tribe couldn't find enough food, they left a short while later, to the great relief of the other smaller and weaker tribes.
After a leave of absence to recover, Chloé had been promoted to become leader of a section then a squadron. She had spun a fat lie to hide the help she'd received from Mona but had thoroughly reported the horrors that had taken place before her eyes. Her initiative when she fled and her composure and courage were unanimously praised. She even received several job offers from the Special Forces, the elite corps dedicated to driving out the No-lights hiding in the city. She declined them all without regret.
Daphné, now Mona... In Chloé's eyes, the rebels had nothing in common with the cannibalistic and bloodthirsty brutes she'd seen outside. She knew where her real enemies were.
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