Chapter 11: General Marcelle (1)

I did not know for exactly how long I was out for.

All I remembered was my mind periodically slipping in and out of consciousness despite my numerous efforts to retain it.

Through those sudden bouts of slipping in an out of consciousness, I felt disoriented, unable to see clearly and unable to move. I still recall one time when leather boots of a soldier whose features I could bare distinguish nudging me to consciousness. 

Through the gaps of my eyes, I could see the feet of numerous other soldiers nudge the bodies of the rebels lying around me with the muzzles of their guns and all those who showed signs of live had their chests filled with Antinite bullets.

I tried to turn my eyes upwards towards the face of the soldier who had nudged me awake. My vision cleared up enough to be able to make out the military fatigue worn by the Grisalian infantry troops. A shadow was cast over my face prompting my eyes to narrow when I saw the barrel of a gun pointed towards my chest.

There was a blinding muzzle flash and then the comforting embrace of darkness once gain welcomed me.

When I next came to, I could feel a searing pain radiating from the middle of my chest. My hand subconsciously went down to explore but was miraculously met with the rough texture of blood-soaked bandages.

Confused, I trained my gaze around me and was shocked to notice that I could hardly recognize the ground upon which I lay. Huge craters several feet wide filled to the brim with charred and mangled corpses lay around me. The lush and dense vegetation which had once been here was now nowhere to be seen as all that remained of it were piles of smoldering wood and ash.

The wind suddenly picked up and I nearly gagged at the acrid stench of the rotting corpses which assaulted my nose at that moment. I tried to hold my breath but it served no purpose in keeping the stench out leading to me eventually giving up.

I tried to slowly get back onto my feet but my legs which had long become numb due to days of disuse failed to support my weight sending me tumbling back to the ground. Gritting my teeth, I resorted to crawling as I slowly made my way forward towards a pile of corpses in front of me where some loose strands of silver hair were sticking out.

I had to rest after every few minutes of crawling but eventually I made it to within four meters of the stinking pile of corpses.

My poor heart burdened by the lack of nutrition after a large number of days nearly gave out when one of the corpses abruptly picked itself up from the large pile, sat up and then brought its right hand's forefinger to its cracked and parched lips in a shushing gesture whilst gazing with its silver eyes in my direction.

I could barely speak, let alone breathe, when I felt that extremely familiar gaze on me once again.

'Fuck my life!' 

I cursed loudly in my mind as a profound sense of helplessness once more washed over me.

Here I was about to go over and piss on what I thought to be her corpse and yet of all the shit heads who could have survived those artillery shells, why did she have to be the one?!

For fuck's sake why can't things ever go my way for once on this fucked up island?

Ever since I was detained here, it has always been one clusterfuck of fuckeries on top of others.

Now I knew who the shit head who had bandaged me was and she was sitting right there in front of me feeling at home amongst a bunch of corpses looking completely indistinguishable from one.

I heard the sounds of voices behind her slowly fading away and when she was absolutely sure that they were gone, she gave me the okay sign to speak.

"I thought you were dead!" I indignantly shouted at her.

Her eyes furrowed due to the amount of noise I was making but she still replied to me nonetheless.

"I was merely hiding amongst the dead. I was never one of them."

She replied before her eyes took a distant mourning look whilst looking at the corpses of her former comrades. She released a heavy sigh before she turned her attention back to me and spoke once again.

"I can tell that you are strong however, just being strong will not be enough to get you off this island. I need your help. If you can agree to do whatever I say and help me with my task of murdering someone, I can promise you safe passage and a way of safely getting off this island."

The corners of my lips twisted with mirth when I heard her words.

"What reason do I have to help you and why should I believe in whatever you say?"

I asked her whilst trying to sound out her reasons.

"I don't remember asking you to believe in anything I said and my endeavor may be suicidal and can possibly lead to both our deaths however, without me to personally direct you off this island, it is far too impossible for you to get off on your own.

A lot has changed ever since the shelling a few days ago. The layout and distribution of forces on this island is no longer what it used to be. I have been scouting around for the past six days and I have all the routes, rotations, guard posts and patrol schedules mapped out. Without those you will not be able to take a step off of it."

A large part of me wanted to turn her down at that moment however, she did raise a valid point. Whilst she had already scouted around the island, given enough time I could also do the same and therein laid the problem.

Time was something I did not have. I had no doubt that the empire would have already sent two heavenly generals who re already enroute to this island in order to contain me again. The journey from here to the mainland took two weeks, I was out for six days and taking another six to scout was would lead to me cutting it dangerously close.

For now, I should stick together with this woman and once I found someone to convince that I have the ability to read minds, her precious intel would become mine to access at my leisure.

for now let me play along nd see how far it goes. I also can't turn down the opportunity to turn more Grisalian soldiers into good guys now can I?