He skipped breakfast, a habit he too often fell into. Instead, choosing to lie on his mattress and stare at the ceiling. What had Clara been told? Was this assignment retribution from his previous one?
He left his blankets bundled at the foot of his bed, and ignored the clothes still on the floor. He had thrown together what he needed, and the rest would still be there to deal with when he came back. No need to deal with it now.
He was at Command long before the instructed time, leaning against the hallway wall, watching the doors. They wouldn’t open until it was time, but still he stared. He kept waiting for this to be a nightmare. He was hoping his eyes would open, he’d wake up and discover he was on the mission alone. He wouldn’t have to live out his worst fear. He wouldn’t have to watch Clara die.
She wouldn’t die, of course. He told himself this over and over. It became a resounding anthem in his head.I will keep her alive.Whatever the cost, whatever it takes.You promised you wouldn’t,the more logical voice whispered back.Technically,he argued,I only promised I wouldn’t protect her more than I would protect someone else. She doesn’t know how I would protect someone else.The logical voice continued to disagree, and though he looked calm to any passerby, his inward war continued to rage.
It only grew louder when she stepped into view. She stopped when he saw her, and he could have sworn he stopped breathing. Such a stupid reaction, but there it was. She was in full gear this morning. Black leggings grooved to conceal weapons, black jacket with armor across the shoulders and chest, dark brown straps across her body to hold more weapons. All complete with a dark hood, which was currently left down around her shoulders. He closed his mouth quickly, hoping she didn’t notice the way his jaw dropped at the sight of her.
He had never seen her in full armor before. That was no excuse for his reaction, butdamn,she was stunning. Even if she was looking at him like he was the target. Maybe especially because she was looking at him like he was the target.
She approached him, never relaxing her perfect posture. “You’re here early.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder before setting it at her feet.
He shrugged, “Blame it on excitement?”
Her lips twitched, “I’m sure it’s something like that.” He couldn’t tell if she was resisting a smirk or a scowl.
Carver wanted to ask how she slept, how she felt about this trip. He wanted to ask about the past three years, fill in the blanks he himself had created between them. He wanted to understand what she had been through to become this shadow of her former self. Or the her he remembered, at least. But he wouldn’t.
They hadn’t even left for the trip yet, and he was already struggling to follow the rules.This is gonna suck.Plus, he already knew Clara was hiding things from him–whatever Command told her when he was ushered out of the room.
Instead of any of the things he truly wanted to know, he merely commented, “This should be fun.” In a way he meant it: if your definition of fun was burning yourself just to tear the blister off.
“It will be something.” She met his eyes, “I’m assuming you brought the list?”
He nodded, lightly patting the pocket over his chest. Fitting, that the list was so close to his heart. It would serve as a reminder of what he had to keep caged.
They stood in an awkward silence, neither daring to offer something that could be so easily shot down, until the doors opened and they were summoned in. Carver watched her throw her bag back over her shoulder, resisting the urge to carry it forher. Old habits die hard. She was more than capable; that wasn’t the issue. But there was something in him that wanted to do whatever it took to make her life easier.
The same woman from the day before stared down at them. Her eyes were softer this time, as though she knew she was sentencing them to death, or something far worse. What other option did any of them have?
“Are you both ready?” Her voice was also softer today, and that, more than anything else, gave Carver the first sliver of fear.Just keep her alive. That’s all you have to do.A reminder to himself, but he stopped himself from looking at Clara. How could he keep her alive when he didn’t even know what she was told to do?
They nodded, and Carver forced the thoughts in his brain to slow down enough to focus on the moment in front of him. Nothing bad was happening yet. They were simply beginning their transport.
“Remember, the first two days will be spent on the train. Then you will have two days to trek the final 20 miles and make it into the city on time.” She pursed her lips, “If you succeed, you will both come back as heroes.” Carver saw Clara straighten her already straight spine out of the corner of his eye, “If you don’t, well, I don’t need to tell you how things end. We wish you the best of luck. May the gods be with you.”
An old phrase. No one actually believed in the gods anymore. If they ever existed, they were long dead or content to avoid all things to do with humanity. But Carver understood the sentiment in the statement. If there is some greater power, may they assist you in every aspect of the journey.
He would need help from the gods to keep Clara’s rules of engagement. He would need help from the gods to keep her alive.
They saluted Command and were each handed bigger backpacks with materials they needed for their journey. He stopped long enough to put his smaller bag in the top. They walked in silence to the train. The rain fell in slow, massive droplets. He would have shivered had it not seemed emasculating.
Clara turned her face up to the rain, letting the drops fall across her cheeks like tears. He didn’t know why he made that comparison. She looked far calmer than he felt as they boarded the train. The train was designed for carrying cargo, and they were put in one of the back cargo cars with a singular window. The glass was thick, keeping the inside of the train dark. A few crates were stacked throughout the train, as well as pillows and blankets that were added specifically for them.
There was no huge farewell as they boarded, no farewell as they left everything behind. It felt anticlimactic to have the large door closed. Everything felt like it had changed, but it was just another assignment.Just another assignment.
Carver continued to stare at the door long after it was sealed. The train jolted, causing him to stumble so he belatedly sat down. Two days. Two days in this box with Clara. If there were gods, they must be desperate to have him pay for his mistakes.
7CLARA
Clara learned the cost of high expectations at a young age. The world didn’t care how hard she worked, or how desperate she was for a certain outcome. No, the world spun the same way it always had and expectations were only good for creating disappointment.
By the time she trained as a Viper, Clara had lost all expectation of the world. Her only expectation was of herself. To survive and become the best. She worked hard, knowing that eventually the work would pay off, and having this gut feeling that her life would change. She had to admit, she was right on one part. Her hard work did, in fact, change her life. But the way it changed her life felt like a cruel joke in comparison to what she secretly wanted.
Now, she wanted to remain as far away from Carver as she could. It wasn’t a rule, but subconsciously it became one. The second the door slid closed, she moved towards the back of the car, grabbed a blanket, and climbed on top of one of the boxes. She wouldn’t admit it, but in the moment he stood there, she replayed the interactions from the night before.
Including the split second she considered embracing him. A bad idea, of course–possibly the worst.
