Ivory Hill had spent the majority of her adult life running. Throughout her twenties and the first part of her thirties it was from bombs and bullets. Now, at thirty six years old Ivory was running from something that she could never truly escape fr...
Hell's Kitchen was alive with chatter. Rows of people were crammed in elbow to elbow attacking their lunch. The supply shuttle had gotten in that morning which meant that the residents of Hell's Gate finally had more food to choose from than bananas and bread. Ivory was finishing the tail end of her burrito when she felt someone tapping her on her shoulder. Ivory turned around, pushing her plate away from her.
Trudy smiled at her, brushing burrito crumbs from the front of her flight suit. "Ivy? You're wanted down on the gun range."
"What for?"
Trudy shrugged her shoulders, taking her brown hair out of its ponytail and tying it back up more tightly. "To get you a gun. All medics have to be lightly armed in case you've got to go out into the field." The woman explained. At this sentence Grace, who was sat opposite Ivory, gave a small snort of disgust.
Ivory got up, the bench scraping back loudly. "Alright then," she said reluctantly, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped from one of her plaits behind her ear.
"Follow me." Trudy led Ivory from the mess hall, striding down the large corridors until they finally reached the gun range.
The walls of the gun range were riddled with bullet holes where people had either missed the targets or simply chosen not to use them. The mere sight of them was enough to make Ivory's stomach turn.
"See you later." Trudy gave Ivory an easy smile then turned and left, heading in the direction of the Armor Bay where her Samson was stored.
"Ah, Hill. I've been waiting for you." Colonel Quaritch put the heavy gun that he had been loading with ammunition back onto one of the racks that had been screwed to the walls. "You need an RDA gun. As head of security I can't have any of my people going out into Pandora unprotected, it's too much of a risk. Because you're only a medic you only get a singular gun but if you feel like you need more protection then come back here." Quaritch turned to one of the racks and lifted a simple handgun down, passing it to Ivory.
Ivory stood in silence for a moment, turning the weapon over in her hands. There was no denying it- Quaritch knew his firearms. After years of serving in the military weaponry was something that Ivory had become familiar with. "Thank you."
"If you need new bullets then go to the Armor Bay. If I'm not there ask Chacon, she'll help you out." Quaritch passed Ivory a tactical leg holster.
"Eight millimetre cartridge?" Ivory asked, slipping the gun into the holster and buckling it around her leg, pulling her camouflage combat trousers down so that the material didn't pucker around the straps of her holster.
Quaritch nodded, a faint smirk on his face. "I think I remember reading your file, Hill. Eighteen years military experience, correct?"
The woman nodded.
"I think you're going to prove worth my while. I'd like to speak to you properly later. I've got to go for an administration meeting with Selfridge now but there's something that I'd like to discuss with you."
"Alright."
"Alright sir." Quaritch corrected.
Ivory sighed. "Alright, sir."
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Ivory awoke sweaty and shuddering, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth insistently. She rolled away from Tigger, feeling as though her pounding heart would wake him and licked her bloody lips. She had bitten her tongue. It had seemed to easy to forget the primitive violence of her past life when she had moved to Pandora but her dream had whispered that she was ignoring the signs. The ones that said she was bringing the violence of her old world with her all the way to Hell's Gate. Ivory reached out and flicked the lamp on, pressing her fingers to her lips. Her hands came away streaked scarlet with blood. Ivory's stomach turned.
Ivory barely made it to the bathroom in time. She dry heaved, her stomach clenching. The burrito that she had eaten for lunch crawled out of her, splashing unceremoniously into the toilet in front of her. The woman pulled herself up off of the floor and splashed her face with cold water, rinsing her mouth out. "Not again." She murmured, pressing her forehead against the cool mirror that hung above the sink.
Someone rapped loudly on the bathroom door. "Are you nearly done in there?"
