Chapter 15 - Eat

How long had England been lying on this bed, waiting for his leg to heal? A few hours? A day? He had no way of knowing. For all he knew, forty days really had past. But he did know time was moving on without him. He could hear gunfire shots and sounds of screaming, even the occasional explosion. His stomach still burned with hunger and he was feeling the ever-increasing need to sleep. A need that would continue to be unfulfilled due to the noise and the fiery cauldron inside him. As he faded in and out, he saw a medic enter where he was kept.

"So..." the medic spoke in a familiar Irish brogue, "Still not eatin' any of Colonel Lecter's Kentucky Fried Man?"

England was too weak to respond to Shiv's joke, nor could he be bothered to understand it beyond their shared assumption of what Averina's meat was.

Shiv pulled out a canteen of water, "Here. Would've given you some rations but uh...they only had one tin left. I had to give it to Knight while extractin' 'im."

England lifted his head up slightly as he guzzled down the water Shiv poured into his mouth. It felt cool. Refreshing. But it didn't stave off his hunger.

"How..." England asked weakly, "Did you get...Knight..."

"The Steel Lady and 'er cronies are on a raid right now," Shiv replied, "I saw an opportunity and I seized it."

The growl of an approaching engine, heavy boots against the ground, and a sharp string of Russian curses signaled Averina's return, bringing trouble with her when she invaded England and Shiv's presence.

"Where did Knight go?!" Averina shouted.

Shiv replied to Averina in Russian but Averina whipped out a revolver and pointed it to her head before she even finished her sentence.

"Cut the shit!" Averina exclaimed, "I know you're not one of us!"

Shiv's fingers twitched slightly before she schooled her expression and tilted her head up with forced confidence, "Ladno, priznayus'. Ya belorus."

A brief smirk appeared on Averina's face before she pushed it down and pressed the gun closer to Shiv's head, "You're a smartass. Think you can outsmart a bullet?"

Averina turned her head slightly and barked a command to her soldiers before turning to face England.

"And you!," Averina shouted before switching to a tone not too dissimilar to a mother scolding her child, "It really hurts me when you waste my cooking. My men's morale is already low. And now, you're starving yourself and them over some self-righteous delusion that this is a test."

England's throat was dry. The water Shiv had given him had done little to ease the fire in his stomach. His head was pounding. His body screamed for rest and sustenance. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, steady but weak.

"Then why don't you..." England rasped, "Just kill me?"

"If you were even listening to me when we last spoke, you would know I want to fight you warrior-to-warrior," Averina replied, "My men didn't believe me when I told them you were real but now? Now they do. And they want to see what happens when two titans clash. So the sooner you're in fighting form, the better."

England's gaze flickered to the doorway as two of her soldiers entered, carrying something wrapped in newspaper. His stomach twisted. If he didn't already know what was under that paper, the crow circling the two soldiers would have confirmed his suspicion. His fingers curled into the thin sheet beneath him. He told himself it was just exhaustion. Just the fever creeping through him. But the truth was that some primal part of him was afraid. The two soldiers moved towards England before unwrapping what was in the newspaper, with the crow circling them perching itself on Averina's arm. The sight of it hit him like a bullet. A leg. Human. The skin crisped and the meat beneath exposed. It did not take long for the scent of charred flesh and fat disturbingly familiar to what they served at the pub to hit him afterwards.

"I'm going to make this simple," Averina spoke coldly before tapping the barrel of her revolver against Shiv's temple, "Eat or I put a bullet through her skull."

Shivers ran down England's spine and through his arms. He knew Averina wasn't bluffing. He had fought men and killed tyrants with his bare hands but this was different. There was no right choice. If he stood firm against this temptation, a soldier will die on his watch. If he gave in, he would have to accept he was no different from the beast threatening Shiv's life.

"Odin," Averina counted before pulling the trigger.

Click.

It was tempting to pray for a miracle but the thought of leaving Shiv's fate in God's hands gave little comfort. Instead, it made him sick.

"Dva," Averina continued to count.

Click.

England had spent so much of his life believing that faith could carry him. That it could lead him to make wise choices. And yet every decision he had made, from fighting in the Great War to agreeing to being Moore's pet project, made him feel like he was being dragged deeper and deeper into Hell.

"Tri."

Click.

Beads of sweat dripped down England's forehead. His heart pounded against his skull. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

"Chetyre."

England shot up, "Stop!"

He could feel everyone staring at him. His hands shaking, he slowly bent down and placed them on the leg. It still felt warm, almost burning even. Firmly grasping it, he lifted it up to his face and took a bite out of it. The texture was soft and unnervingly tender, like slow-cooked pork but slightly stringier. The thin layer of fat melted on his tongue, coating it with a greasy richness that felt suffocating rather than indulgent. The taste of gammon in his mouth almost made him forget what he was eating. Almost. Then came the aftertaste. A lingering sweetness almost like veal but with a metallic tang that clung to his palate. His hunger grew stronger before consuming him entirely as he was compelled to take another bite. And another.

The crow tilted its head as if nodding in approval before spreading its wings and flying away from the scene. Averina, equally satisfied with England's decision, pulled her revolver away from Shiv's head and tucked it back into her pocket before approaching England.

"Good boy," Averina cooed almost mockingly as she patted England's head.

England didn't respond. He was just watching an animal eating away at the piece of meat in his hands as the fog surrounded him. The animal didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Just tearing into the meat then swallowing with almost mechanical precision. As the beast and her subordinates made their way out of the doorway, the animal's movements slowed. The meat was nearly gone now. Then he stopped. His belly was full and his hands were covered in grease and fat. He gently slumped back, gasping for air, before looking at Shiv. She ripped her helmet and balaclava off, her breaths shallow as she did so, before making her way to a medical table that had the nearest vodka bottle on top of it.

"Fucking hell," Shiv shakily muttered as she poured herself a glass, her arm shaking as she did so.

She grabbed the glass and slumped down near the corner, trying to catch her breath before downing the glass in one go. The fog was starting to lift but England felt hollow. He could still taste it. He weakly tried to hold onto his cross but couldn't bring himself to hold onto it. Not after what was in those hands.

"I wasn't pervin' on you earlier, y'know," Shiv quietly said.

England slightly turned his head to Shiv, "Huh?"

"When we were gettin' changed," Shiv explained, "I wasn't actually lookin' at anythin'. I was just actin'. A little somethin' I used to put on for the FNGs."

England stared at her for a moment, trying to process her words through the static in his head.

"A lot of 'em were young lads with no idea what they were signin' up for so," Shiv continued, "If I acted like I wanted to get into their pants or was usin' medical examinations as an excuse to perv on 'em, or just actin' like I was one of 'em, they'd have something else to think about while out on the field. Namely, how to get into my pants."

England just kept staring. He wasn't sure how to respond. He wanted to say something or even give a little chuckle at Shiv's last sentence but his mouth felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

Shiv got up and walked back to the bottle, her hand still shaking as she poured herself another glass.

"It worked," Shiv said before downing the glass and slumping back down into the corner, "It did keep their minds off the fact that they might die at any second or that they'd be killin' people for a livin'."

There was something in her eyes. Something beyond her bravado and biting sarcasm. For a moment, England thought Shiv might break. But she didn't. Shiv, seeming to sense the tension, took a deep breath before speaking again.

"But what worked for them would sure as shite not work for you," Shiv's words slurred a little as she spoke, "Murder-boner for dictators aside, you're a wee boy scout. But I was thinkin'...you put up with a lot o' randy lads yourself back in your day and, compared to you, I'm fuckin' green. So...I thought I'd act the same way I always do."

England flinched at her confession.

"You didn't need to..." The words sounded foreign coming from his mouth.

A bitter chuckle escaped Shiv's lips, "Of course, I fuckin' did. You think you're the only tight-arse I was ever assigned to? I worked with lads both old and new who think, by being these fuckin' robots that don't laugh or cry, that they're better soldiers or even better men. But when they don't have anything to fight, they're neither. That's why laughter's the best medicine. If you don't laugh, you'll want to hang yourself."

"Funny," England muttered, "Moore said the same thing."

Shiv raised her head slightly, "Did she now? Cheeky cow must've stolen it from me."

England and Shiv shared a quiet, bitter laugh. The taste in his mouth wouldn't go away but for just a moment, the static in his head had cleared enough to remember he wasn't alone.