Luke

I set the body down among the others. This one lifeless. As had been the last many we'd collected from the ruined town. Almost a week had passed since we'd arrived. It was hard to pin it down to just what exact moment it'd been when the bodies we began collecting were no longer breathing.

The first day had given us some hope that there was a chance we'd be able to pull a sizeable number of survivors out from the wreckage. The second day came, and, as we expected, there hadn't been quite as many survivors. On the third, we found nearly none, many of the bodies we did find being fresher, some even still warm, and not from the fires that waged around them. We weren't quick enough.

And now, a week later, our job no longer was about recovering the wounded, but clearing the streets of the dead.

Getting back to the town square on day 1 left me, to be honest, rather content in spite of the more than bleak surroundings. Even the others seemed rather proud of the work they'd been doing. With my recovering the injured and their tending to them, between us, we wanted to think we'd saved a good number of lives. We'd spent the evening prior to calling it a night enjoying a warm MRE that I'd personally heated, ensuring no outsider was around to notice as we made plans for the day after, myself hoping to recover even more survivors, Zek and Ka'lira discussing waking early to get started on stabilizing the wounded early while Gordez voiced his intentions of joining with some of the mercenaries to patrol the outskirts of the city and ensure no further danger was coming.

We all had plans ahead of us, hopefully we'd be able to bring some hope to what, earlier that day, had been a bleak and desolate sight to behold, bodies swinging from structures, dead littering the streets, not a heart believed to be left beating. Seeing then that we were wrong, that there still was hope, it allowed us to feel at least somewhat good about ourselves as we drifted into the night. Of course, only after the others had been sure to at least give me something of a hard time considering the day I'd spent with my new "girlfriend" as they put it, a label they would have applied to any female within a 10-mile radius of me, I was sure.

As for Zare, after we'd recovered our last survivor of the day-an older man who somehow hadn't yet bled out after losing an arm to the Rough Rhinos, we'd parted ways, both of us exhausted, but acknowledging each other's "good work," leaving it at that. We agreed to resume our work tomorrow and parted ways from there. Us being as near to collapsing as we were after such a day of constant exertion, the pleasantries would have to wait.

The second day came.

Ka'lira and Zek had already set off to what I wanted to think would be a good day ahead. Gordez had yet to leave, the next patrol slated to depart at 0800.

I didn't waste time getting dressed or grabbing a bite of breakfast before setting off towards the square where I found Zare waiting, our agreement still holding, much to my own satisfaction.

We both had attempted to clean up from the day before it seemed, wiping the dry blood from ourselves, and no longer donned our coats which we knew from yesterday was a sore mistake given a combination of the heat and the workload. From there, we set to work, wanting to think that the day ahead would bring much the same success, if not more, of the day before. 27 was the number to beat.

We went into it feeling rather optimistic albeit sore from the day before. We were still stretching our limbs and cracking our necks, attempting to remove the knots in our muscles as we returned to the segment of town we'd covered the day prior, finding where we'd left off, figuring that a good point to resume.

"Sleep well?" she'd asked.

"Mmm," I responded. "No complaints. Street rubble makes for a good pillow."

"Hmph," she responded, seemingly amused, or so I wanted to think.

"And you?"

"Pretty good, all things considered. Good to sleep when feeling useful."

I nodded my head in agreement, having had much the same mindset in falling asleep myself last night, now wondering curiously just how long she'd been here, asking as such.

"Just got here two days ago. Wasn't even our target. We were headed to the coast when we saw the smoke. Seemed recent. Just a day before, I think."

"Was cutting it close then," I said, wondering just how scarce the Rhinos had already made themselves. Why the coast?"

"Earth Kingdom settlements there are being starved with the blockade. We've been delivering food and medical supplies."

"Fire Nation hasn't stopped you?"

She shook her head. "We're neutral. They gotta have some standards. We help them as much as we help the Earth Kingdom."

I nodded my head, remembering Citadel, a far different image of the nuns coming to mind however, this group here vastly different.

"How many of you are there exactly?"

"Our group? 52. Across the continent?" She shrugged. "I'd guess a few hundred. Probably no more than a couple thousand?"

I was nodding my head, processing the information as we continued walking through the ruined town, now coming to ask, curious, remembering how she'd been armed before, and more visibly, still was armed now, "Ever run into any trouble?"

Her hand moved instinctively to the blade at her side in a manner that betrayed her answer. "Not really, no." She became acutely aware then of her hand on the hilt of the weapon by her side and removed it then, saying, aware of her own instincts it seemed, "Pays to be prepared though. Doubt the Rhinos would care about our neutrality."

Not too much conversation would follow once we started getting to work. Our minds were occupied by the task ahead, our grim surroundings not providing space within us for levity. Only the occasional task-related comment, question, or order would be exchanged as I found myself, in the odd brief moment I had to do so, appreciating her ability to focus on what demanded the utmost attention.

Back in Citadel, the rare nun I'd chanced upon, while zealous, felt detached in some inhuman way. I supposed it wasn't their fault. They had stumbled upon circumstances the likes of which they seemed completely and utterly foreign to them, finding a city slum occupied by starving children being used as a human shield. In their shoes, I doubt I'd be able to instantaneously put myself in that position, fully prepared to involve myself in their concerns, especially when I'd be moving to just another miserable shithole shortly afterward. That wasn't to say their sincerity was false, their intentions any worse, but simply put, they just, they didn't understand.

But Zare's not a nun, is she?

I caught her eye for just a brief moment as we'd set down our 6th catch for the day, her delicately propping their head up on a folded towel as I ensured the bleeding had stopped. Something about her eyes. She understood. 'Born in Fire Nation occupied territory,' she'd said. Probably saw her share of fighting. She knew what the world was. Maybe she saw that same understanding in me, who could say? Point was, it was a pleasant surprise stumbling on somebody like that. At the very least, somebody like that who hadn't resorted to glorified terrorism.

I tried not to focus on the Separatists on my free time. That was the primary benefit of this job of ours-getting the hell away from the Seppies. Was no need to focus on them here.

So I continued with the day, trying to pretend it wasn't already past midday and we'd only found 6 living people.

By the time the sun was setting, we found 14. Barely half of the count from the day before.

"Go for one more?" She asked through labored breaths, hunched over, hands on her knees, after we'd set down our latest survivor—one who, all things considered, was in rather good shape, something that, despite our lacking rescue count, provided some solace.

The sun had nearly set below the town's outer wall, but nonetheless, I nodded my head in agreement, and bearing one torch between us, set back out into the ruins in the search for more.

"You know," she said, pausing as though grasping for words or merely lost in thought. "It only makes sense we'd find less. We got a good number of them yesterday. We're just finding the ones that are harder to get to now."

I had the vague feeling it wasn't me she was trying to convince as she said this, but I wanted to think it was true. I mean, it did makes sense, at least partially. The ones we found yesterday were the exact ones we weren't finding today. We did our jobs, and well apparently, judging by the lack of survivors we felt today. So I chose to agree, nodding my head, saying, "Yeah. Tomorrow will be better though. We'll search the other side of town and we're bound to find more."

She nodded as well, and we left it at that, choosing to believe in what we had said, despite the fact neither of us had missed that the blood on a number of the bodies we'd found today was still fresh.

The third day came.

I don't think either of us had slept as well. I know I hadn't. Didn't quite have the same high of enthusiasm and promise I'd slept with the day before. Or maybe it was merely the physical toll, though I doubted such was the case.

I hadn't even been awake long enough to hear from the others, Gordez already asleep when I returned, Zek and Ka'lira not back yet, though I found the couple asleep when I woke the following day, not quite keeping to the same promise of the day before to get started earlier. An indicator of success or failure from the day before? I couldn't say.

We'd only minimally cleaned ourselves up before heading out, splashing some water on our faces from the town well to wake ourselves.

"You eat?" she asked, digging into her pocket to remove a chunk of stale bread, hands on either end preparing to break it in half if receiving a certain answer.

"I'm good," I waved away dismissively.

That answer, apparently, wouldn't be quite good enough for her as she proceeded to break the chunk in half, handing me one which I reluctantly took, figuring it an idiotic idea to try and get through the day without anything in my belly.

I did it before. Citadel taught me how to go a good while without food.

It was a miserable day ahead. We attempted switching to a new part of the town, I think both of us, though neither of us admitted it, less concerned than who we were missing in the areas we'd already combed than just finding more than the day before.

We fell short on that goal for that rainy day as well.

We found none.

"How the fuck is it already night?" She'd asked, kicking some loose rubble that she'd cleared in search of what she thought had been a woman crying for help only to be a bird nesting in the ruins of what had once been somebody's home.

I myself was leaned against the wall of a semi-intact structure to the side, looking into the dusk sky, dark blues slowly fading into blacks.

"You sure," I asked, catching my breath. "You sure the others haven't already checked this area?"

She nodded her head, working her way to an actual worded response. "Yeah," she coughed, some dust from the rubble having worked its way into her lungs. "Yeah. We only cleared the East. None of the South or West."

I resisted the growing urge to torch the building immediately in front of me in a fit of anger, settling on subtly allowing the flames of the torch to grow, though not enough to catch Zare's attention. Damnit.

Things hadn't been going much better with the others, so I realized when we returned to the hospital square. It didn't take us long to hear what was going on.

"Cholera," a nun blurted out, racing past us, only stopping to answer Zare's query.

I was no stranger to disease in camps like this. I'd seen my fair share of it at Ba Sing Se, remembering vividly quite literally dragging myself out of that forsaken hospital tent full of dozens of other soldiers who had met fates similar to me in that ill-fated first assault.

Seeing it again now though did little to put such memories at bay.

Across the plaza, I could make out the figures of Zek and Ka'lira being led away from a figure prone on the ground, motionless. So we weren't the only ones having a rough day of it, it seemed. The atmosphere of the hidden square said just the same, lacking the energy of before, even the most devout now beginning to question the point of it all.

Zare managed to catch the sleeve of another passing acolyte with a small notepad tucked in her armpit, asking, "How many did we lose?"

The acolyte didn't need any mnemonic aid to assist her in remembering the day's toll it seemed as she simply let out with a mix of grimness but at the same time, startling sobriety of the situation, "17."

17.

More than we'd saved yesterday. Who knew how many more of the ones we'd saved were among them?

Zare released the young girl's sleeve, letting her continue on, her own train of thought clearly not far off from mine.

"Don't catch a break, do they?" was all she could say, the only one to speak between us. Her hair, disheveled and sweaty from the day behind us, shrouded her eyes, and I couldn't help but get the feeling she was glad for the seclusion it offered.

I still couldn't get the number '17' out of my head. There's been no news of disease yesterday. At least not of what I'd heard. And for 17 to be dead already. Cholera. For fuck's sake.

I think we both must have just been stood there for a few moments of silence as we beheld the eerie sight before us, neither of us knowing what to say until she made the first move to leave, planting a light pat on my shoulder and leaving without a further word.

We'd pick it right back up tomorrow, I knew. The idea that we could do something at the very least, as false as it may have been, was the only thing keeping us going right now. It had to count for something, believing that tomorrow would be better.

The 4th day came.

5 more had died through the night. At least, until I was woken by Zek in the middle of the night, shaking me awake. The mask over his face prevented me from being able to distinguish who he was, at least until he'd spoken. "Need your help," he called out. "Have to separate the sick from the healthy."

I was awake instantly. It had been a while since I'd last been shook awake, remembering the last time being back at Ba Sing Se. Even in Citadel I'd learned rather quick to not waste my time waking up. Not when your life depended on it.

"It's cholera," I said, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. "Don't need masks." I reached over to my flask at the side of my bedroll to get a morning drink until he swiped my hand aside, yelling, "Don't drink that!"

I looked at the flask of war now turned on its side, contents spilling out.

Oh. I see.

"We think the well might be infected."

Me and Zare washed our faces in the well last morning. When was the last time I refilled my flask?

I had now become acutely aware of every feeling within my body, probing for the slightest sickness, the slightest indicator that I was among those who had perished the day before.

"You're not sick," Zek said, knowing exactly what was on my mind. "If you were, you would hardly be conscious enough to be thinking about it. Now come on! Get up!"

He extended his arm to me, which, naturally, I took.

"Where's Ka'lira and Gordez?" I asked as I followed Zek to the interior square, hastening my steps to keep pace with him.

"Ka'lira's separating the patients. Gordez is getting people together to get water from the river."

I was relieved to hear that the two of them weren't out of commission, gladdened to see Zek seemingly in one piece as well, albeit exhausted by the look of him.

"How far's the river?" I asked, shrugging on my coat, the breeze of the night serving to render the extra layer necessary.

"Few miles to the south. Will have to make trips through the night. If the sick aren't hydrated, they'll die."

I was familiar with cholera. Had seen it in Citadel. Was just some bad food going around. Nothing with the water. I could go without food for a good while, but water, that was the real concern.

"What time is it?" I asked as we arrived.

"Don't know. Doesn't matter."

I nodded, my eyes being drawn to a small group of people gathered near the corner of the square by Gordez, who seemed to be doing as Zek had said-organizing people to gather water. I believed I made out the vague figure of Zare among them, but myself wasn't sure as I was promptly pulled away by Zek back towards the wounded where Ka'lira already was taking note of symptoms and the states of the injured. My eyes still would turn from time to time to Gordez's group, trying to definitively make out Zare's figure, hoping it was indeed her there and not among the sick I was attending to.

There were a number of nuns and other mercenaries that we were going through, Ka'lira having been busy attending to one such when Zek and I approached her.

"Sick," she said matter-of-factly, referring to the body she was huddled by, motioning her head in a given direction, towards what, I wasn't sure, though Zek seemed to possess a good idea, motioning me towards him.

The man, now labeled as merely 'sick' was laying atop a small cloth that Zek took as one end while I took it from the other, working my tired and sore muscles to raise it, nearly tearing the fabric as we did so. We managed to get him off the ground, a grotesque brown fluid leaking from below the fabric.

Yeah, I though, the smell instantly taking me back to Citadel's streets. That's cholera alright.

"Sick are over here," he mumbled from beneath his mask, myself now understanding why he was wearing it, the stench, despite something I was accustomed to from back in the 'good ol' day', overwhelming.

I pulled up my own facial covering, managing my end of the mat with one hand as I did so, struggling to regain a firm grip on it, trailing along after Zek, step by step to where the other sick were being held in a grim quarantine of dead and dying, the stench of puke, shit, and rotting bodies threatening to knock a lesser person out, but I'd seen worse, been in worse, the memory of burning flesh, hair, and bones still fresh in my mind, memories flooding back with them, my mind going blank as I scanned the mases for familiar faces, fearing what I may find, feeling some sick degree of relief when the only body I recognized was the one belonging to one of the acolytes whose name I'd never caught.

"Come on, there's more! Let's go!" cried Zek, pulling me back into reality, my gaze refocusing as I spun back around to run the relay to and fro the different area of the camps, moving the bodies accordingly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gordez's group leave, no longer being able to make out Zare's figure, but myself praying she was among them rather than the unfortunate souls I'd be relocating this evening.

I didn't know how long I slept, or what time it had been when I woke up, but the answer to both had been, respectively, 'not enough' and 'too early.' Body after body, we worked through the night and into the morning, running some sadistic relay race around the interior square, transporting bodies like cargo. The water retrieval groups came and went by the hours, other workers and civilians fit enough to be put to work running tirelessly around to bring good water to the sick. Why did it have to rain yesterday? Why couldn't it have been today?

Eventually, the black sky lightened into a deep blue that eventually became shrouded by morning clouds, myself only wishing they'd bring rain for that day, but by the look of them, they had no water to give.

Morning came.

The sick had been separated from the healthy.

There was a somewhat steady supply of water coming in.

23 people had died that night, in addition to the 5 who had been dead by the time I woke up.

28 dead in a single night.

45 dead in the last 24 hours.

The 5th day had come.

My throat was dry, my eyes were sore, eyelids heavy, arms trembling, still feeling the phantom weight of the dozens of bodies I'd transported through the night still weighing them down.

I should sleep, but I couldn't. My eyes were still drawn to the exit of the inner square. There has to be more out there. We can't have found them all.

I didn't know how long she'd been standing there, but I lacked the energy to be startled by the sudden appearance of Zare by my side who, seemingly, possessed the selfsame idea as I. We had to go back out there.

I think that, for both of us, that day had been more of an exhausted stumble than it had been an effective search and rescue. We were looking, listening, digging through rubble, praying we'd find just some hint of life, but as we dug through debris, searched burned out homes, and combed the streets, we only found more and more bodies already devoid of life.

We were lifeless, shambling along the streets, too tired to talk, our only interaction limited to her extending a flask of water to me.

My suspicious eye cast on it, clearly concerned of what lay inside was enough to prompt her to respond with, "River," proceeding to take a drink out of it herself before handing it back to me.

I don't even think I'd been suspicious, merely too out of it to even process what she was handing off to me. Eventually, of course, I did take it, taking a deep swig of cool river water, a paranoid side of myself still feeling a knot in my stomach as I did so, the irrational fear raking through me.

"They say it was intentional," Zare said quietly as she took another swig of water, carefully setting it down, recapping the lip, and stowing it away.

"Rhinos?"

"Their thugs, Gordez says," she corrected.

It felt weird hearing her say his name. Almost in a fashion like she was one of us, but it made sense. Was fetching water with him throughout the night. I nod my head. "So they're in here with us."

"Or they snuck in," she shrugs. She went quiet for a small while until speaking up again to ask, "Gordez. He your leader?"

I shake my head, not sure how much to say, but figure it no harm in giving away some minor details disconnected from anything of real significance. "No. Not our leader, but we trust him. Hasn't led us wrong before."

"And the others?" she asked, her voice, her questions seemingly forced, simply wishing to put aside the solemn silence with something to break it, but her own voice, quiet and grim, betraying her intentions. "The ones you were with this morning?"

I nod. "Zek and Ka'lira," I said, stating their names.

"Know each other well?" She further asked as we continued along, dragging ourselves ahead.

I nodded, figuring it best not to go any deeper, and apparently, she was just as aware of this as well, remaining quiet, not seeking to dig any further.

It was well into the afternoon, and we still hadn't found a single living soul.

We were hardly even moving anymore, simply leaning against rubble, damn near settling down and calling it a day, ready to call it quits here, make use of ourselves back at the camp, help fetch water, something along those lines.

I think both of us were right on the edge of calling it quits at any moment when we heard a rustling from down an alleyway.

We both turned our heads towards it, dead silent, waiting to see if we heard it again, our heads turning to one another as though to ask, 'You heard that too, right?'

We stayed listening, propping ourselves off from the walls as though the extra few inches would allow us to hear all the farther, and eventually, we supposed it work as the noise sounded again, followed by that same questioning look at one another.

"Could be an animal?" she asked, playing devil's advocate as I myself would have done had she not asked first.

"Or a person," was the only logical answer. She agreed. Naturally. Her asking of the question was no indication of hesitation to investigate. Merely, it was something that needed to be said.

We both returned to our feet, a new hopeful, yet hesitant energy to our steps. As much as it could have been an injured, it could easily have been a stray cat, or perhaps even some of these thugs who'd been making our lives hell throughout the last few days.

We both had hands on our weapons as proceeded, turning into an alley, approaching the surface of the noise, now hearing something that, beyond all shadow of a doubt, was not a wild animal. It was a grunt, that of a girl.

Zare and I turned to one another, and our paces quickened, ourselves nearly jogging as we turned that last corner and found her there, amidst a pile of rubble, bloodied, bruised, pale, clothes torn, a metal rod emerging from her shin, holding her down in place, stuck.

"Shit," I just barely whispered, pausing in my steps as I saw this, proceeding forward alongside Zare who immediately went to the girl's side.

She's no older than 12.

The girl opened her mouth to yelp upon seeing us, our faces likely not pleasant sights to look at: muddied, bloodied, and sweaty, but her voice caught in her own throat, no water or energy to fuel such an act.

"There, there, it's alright now," Zare whispered, lowering herself to a kneel by the girl's side. "It's alright now. You're safe." She raised the flask to the girl's mouth with her right hand, tilting her head back with her left to allow the water to flow down to the last drop, all for the girl.

While Zare occupied the girl's left, I occupied her right, my eyes focused on her wounds. She had suffered from multiple lacerations and trauma injuries, likely from the collapsing surrounds around her rather than an individually targeted attack. The bruises would heal, and the cuts had already mostly scabbed over save for some larger cuts that, at the very least, had stopped bleeding. It was her leg I was worried about, locked in place, held down, blood and internal organs being kept in place by the metal red impaling her alone.

"My leg," the girl whimpered. "I think my leg is stuck on something."

The water was gone by the time Zare set down the flask, turning to me as though awaiting a status report on the girl's leg.

"I know," Zare said, forcing a smile onto her face. "We'll get it out. Don't worry there."

"We move her," I whispered, "and the leg will bleed. Badly. We need to bring supplies from camp and tend to her here."

"We ran out of gauze, and we have no idea what left of our supplies is still uninfected. We can't leave her here."

"Moving her might ki-" I paused, realizing she was right next to me, being careful to avoid saying anything that needed not be said. "It might be dangerous to move her."

Zare's eyes turned to her, then back to me, biting down on her lip, thinking it through. "They have doctors at the camp. They'll know what's good or not. We can't leave her here. Not like this."

I turned back to the girl. She wasn't doing well. Not in the slightest. As concerned as I was about moving her, leaving her like this, I wasn't sure if that in itself would accomplish anything either.

"Alright," I said, nodding my head. "We'll move her. Help me support her from below. We'll pull her up."

Zare turned to the girl, saying, "Alright. This is going to hurt a bit, alright? We're going to get your leg free, but it might hurt a little bit. Okay?"

The girl nodded, saying nothing, myself not knowing if it was lack of energy or fear of what was ahead. She has no idea of knowing what's ahead. What the pain's going to feel like.

I reached into my bag, finding some torn rags I'd used part of to patch the man from a few days back. There was still a good amount left. Enough, I wanted to think, to try and stop some of the worse bleeding.

The hole goes straight through. I won't be stopping anything.

"Zare," I said. "It might be best to-" I cocked my head to the side in a swift motion, herself seemingly knowing just what I meant-amputation.

She shook her head, mouthing, 'no!' in a yell. "We can't do that," she whispered. "She'd never walk again!"

It's true. She wouldn't. Not on her own, but at the very least she'd be alive.

But what kind of life would that be? No family, no friends, not being able to walk without help. I shook my head, shaking the doubts aside. We'd do this. We'd do this right. We'd get her out. We'd save her.

I nodded to her, placing an army beneath her knee to raise her, the other holding a rag, at the ready to put pressure on the wound. At the very least, one of them. We have to do this. We can't cut through the rod. This is the only way.

"On 3," I said, being met with her nod of affirmation, rubbing the girl's head one last before hooking her arms beneath the girl's shoulders.

"Hey," she said to the girl again, getting her attention. "What's your name?"

"Hana."

"Hana," Zare smiled. "That's a pretty name."

"It's my mom's."

I could see Zare's struggle to maintain the effortful smile on her face, her eyes betraying her, revealing the pain behind. The sooner we get her out of here, the better.

She nodded to me, and I nodded to her.

"1…2…3!"

We pulled, the grotesque sound of metal scraping against flesh screeching through our ears, disgusting, hideous, appalling, combined with the girl's screams of terror, creating a combination of noise the horror of which I hadn't seen since Ba Sing Se.

A red wake was left on the rod that had been impaling her leg only moments ago. The girl was now held between the two of us, my left arm deliberately attempting to stop the rushing flow of blood. It was what I had expected. We had to move, and fast, and so after a panicked few seconds of orientating ourselves, we found the way back to camp, and raced there.

The girl's screaming stopped. "She's just passed out!" I yelled, praying it was true as we ran back the way we'd come, racing through the town center to the hidden square where the injured were being kept. Please be alive. Dear Raava, let her be alive.

"We got a survivor!" Zare called out the moment we entered the square, eyes from all over instantly being drawn to us.

"We need water and bandages!" I yelled.

Gehor took the child from our names, setting her down on an empty mat, Zare and I chasing close behind, turning back to realize nobody had yet brought bandages or water.

"Bandages and water!" Zare called behind again.

"We're-we're out of bandages," said the nun behind us, the one I recognize as Kala. "And the others. They haven't come back with the water since this morning."

What?

"We-" Zare stuttered. "We have to stop the bleeding. We need alcohol, or gauze, or anything or…"

She simply paused, sitting there, hands around Hana.

She hadn't realized that Hana had died minutes ago from blood loss as she lay on the cold stone floor in the middle of a town square filled with hundreds more like her, slowly withering away.

Zare hadn't realized that she was clinging onto a lifeless body as she yelled at people around her to do something.

That wasn't to say I was any different. My hands were still clutched tight around the entry and exit wounds marking where the rebar had torn through her body, blood seeping between my fingers, painting my skin a deep red.

It was minutes of us just sitting there, the one person we'd found in the last two days, dead in our arms. The one person we'd found. The one person we'd had a chance of saving. Somber whispers of "You did your best" or "I'm sorry flew right over us" as I went still, frozen, but Zare began to shake.

Hana.

She reminded me of somebody I'd seen before.

One of the faces of the oh so many lives I'd taken that night, wide open, staring at me. I reach my hand to her face, allowing her eyelids to rest closed, leaving a smear of crimson on her face as I did so.

Zare rose slowly, shaking, her legs looking as though they were going to give out from under her at any moment, until she kicked aside her empty flask of water, sending it hurtling across a good segment of the plaza, a loud curse rising to her lips before falling back down to the ground on her knees.

I myself was still clutching the girl's wounds, unable to let go, fearing that if I did, it might become real. Eventually, however, I gave in, simply falling back onto the cold stone group, eyes facing the clouded sky above, eyes red, tired, exhausted, just wanting to sleep, just wanting it to be over.

We were done for today.

We found one person that day. And we had lost them.

19 more people died of cholera in the camp.

The well was drained that day, and a punctured back full of shit had been found at the bottom, weighed down to sink it and infect the whole town's water supply. It'd been deliberate.

Of course it was.

3 more had died that day. There was a reason we had no water. Gordez's group was ambushed by thugs. 3 mercenaries had been killed, Gordez thankfully not one of them.

So many people dead. And for what? The more time we spent here, the more it seemed as though this town was a deathtrap meant to draw in the kind, the warm-hearted, the ones who gave a shit, in. It had worked.

So this was the Rhinos' plan? Burn a city to the ground as bait?

That had been the 5th day.

We probably would have liked to sleep in the 6th, but we found each other at the square at the usual time nonetheless. Blood still stained my hands and her face, our clothes dirty, torn, a complete mess.

We had different orders today. "Clear the dead."

We'd given up on the living. The one's we knew were currently alive, the sick and injured, they were our concern. All else, and it was too late.

And that was what had become of us, clearing the streets of the dead, neither me nor Zare speaking a word for the entire day, not believing there was, simply put, anything to be said.

We were dieners in a land of the dead, more cold bodies than warm. We were kept busy, no time for words, simply picking up one body between us at a time and moving them outside the walls for them to be buried or burned later. We still hadn't decided how to send them off from this world. We didn't know what to talk about even if we'd wanted to, fearing it would begin with talk of yesterday, of the girl, of Hana, and so we avoided the subject by avoiding conversation entirely.

It was a juvenile resort, but effective, and all we had.

Beneath the sadness, the despair, and the hopelessness, however, there was something more, something angry, hateful. It had been there when I first came to this city and saw what had been done. But they hadn't been finished. Disease, murder, adding all the more to the suffering they'd already inflicted, there could be no forgiveness for a sin such as that. And that anger was what I had, what kept me going, knowing I couldn't let them win. It was that anger and hate that would overcome the despair.

And so, when later that day, Gordez returned and reported he'd found the mercenary camp, I was among the first to volunteer.

Every sin had its punishment.

I wasn't responsible for the punishment in the afterlife.

But here, in this world, I still had a say in the matter.