| Wake Up in the Breakdown [closed to Genma & Hayate] | [Feb. 12th, 2009|04:28 pm] |
[Immediately follows Walking in Your Footsteps. Takes place night/early morning of March 17 and 18 ]
Running clear of the smoke and chaos of the city was a huge relief. They weren't being followed--Genma checked every several minutes for any sign of pursuit, but there was none. He took the rear position, letting Hayate lead, watching him carefully for any sign he was faltering, but if anything he seemed to be improving: taking surer steps, increasing his pace. The pain pills and soldier pills must have hit their peak, he thought. And the bandage around Hayate's broken arm was holding, thank every god who might be listening.
After an hour of steady flight, Genma finally let his guard drop just a little. Aside from themselves, there were no signs of life other than the occasional hunting owl or bat, and a few scurrying mice and other nocturnal prey in the leaf litter. The moon cast sharp shadows, and the air smelled warm for March, and damp, as if it might rain in a day or two, but for now the sky held stars and a few scudding clouds--no threat. It looked like maybe their bad luck had come and gone.
Genma sighed, feeling adrenaline finally easing away. It left a headache in its wake and an awareness of every cut and bruise the fight had inflicted. A hint of a bellyache--had he taken a kick to the gut and didn't remember it? It had been such a sudden and furious battle... How had they been found out? That was a major problem. By now whoever had sent those ninja to ambush them would no doubt be aware their mission had failed. It was a problem for Intel, he told himself. No sense making his head ache worse worrying about a problem he couldn't solve.
He whistled to catch Hayate's attention, and flashed him coded signs. Doing okay? His partner nodded, not breaking stride even a little. Genma nodded back and concentrated on making sure they left no trail to be traced. Home was only another eight or nine hours' run away, if Hayate could hold out that long.
Another hour into their journey, and Genma was really starting to feel his body's hurts. Cuts and bruises burned and pulled, and his belly felt almost like he'd eaten something that disagreed. The headache, too was unrelenting. He didn't want to stop. Probably getting dehydrated, he told himself, trying to remember the last time he'd had any water. He tipped his mask up and sucked down a few mouthfuls from his canteen, tossing back another soldier pill and adding a pain pill for good measure. Then he sped up to tap Hayate on the shoulder and hold out a pair of tablets for him, reasoning that since his meds were wearing off, Hayate's had to be, too. |
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