Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 91: Bleeding Abyssal

*WARNING*
Themes of rape.

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Kelly expelled air in shallow bursts, her vision fading in and out in tune with her breath. Her hands pawed at sand as her legs worked against the screaming of her muscles. Every time the dune shifted beneath her and sent her sliding back down it's steep face, she heaved air in great efforts and tried again, over and over, until finally her limbs could pull her to the dune's crest.

With a final cry of strain, she rolled over to her stomach, laying flat against the burning surface, letting the sun have it's way with her. She was drenched in sweat, chapped at the mouth with each swallow ripping down her throat, and shivering with heat stroke to the paradox of feeling cold. She knew it was her own damn fault. She shouldn't be travelling while the sun was at it's peak. But sheltering until the heat passed felt like slacking.

"Suicide-run drills, move it! We don't stop until five of you drop! If I catch you slacking, I'll drop you myself!"

Danse's drill sessions barked through her inner ear, bringing her a peculiar wash of warmth at the special kind of brutal attention he had singled her out with, just as his CO had before him. She vividly remembered how his special attention had turned her on, rather than intimidating her into obedience.

"How's my suicide-run performance, sir?" she seduced the sky above her. Then, her stomach crunched around quiet, neurotic laughter. How ironic it all ended up.

"Don't you give up on me, soldier. On your feet."

"I can't, Danse. I'm just so tired..."

"Don't listen to him, honey. Have a rest, you earned it."

"I can't stop. I can't give up."

Her cravings for Jet burned over her like the heat of the sun. Med-X wasn't touching the sides, it's stabilizing effect growing more dim with each dose. Rolling her head around, she saw that neither Danse nor Nate were with her. She was alone, now more than ever, and it only made the giant void in her cry out for Jet even more to fill it up and hold her tight. But, at least she had some fallback. She knew for certain that if not for the elusive Red Claws, she never would have made it this far. Whatever their reasons were, she was grateful not to have been left for dead, buried in sand, never to be found.

Danse would never forgive her for coming out here just to die.

After catching her breath, Kelly gathered her knees under her to cough out some blood still caught in her lungs, and stood on trembling feet to survey her surroundings. She had to take a steadying breath when she took in the sight.

Below the plateau where she stood lay a vast canyon gulch. Mountainous rock formations of maroon and amber crimped together in swirling passages, carved out by natural erosion long ago. The pinnacle of these mountain ranges flattened out to one smooth level, eked by the constant rasp of the sandstorms. Tufts of scarlet foliage blazed out from the canyon's fissures, more lush where vibrant aqua water flowed and fell in and over rocks and ledges.

The Bleeding Abyssal. It was beautiful. Far less morbid than she had imagined. Beyond the canyons, the land darkened into great thunderclouds, but here, it was like a pocket of life where the rising land could catch the rain and dedicate it in to new growth. Kelly stood drinking in the view, barely aware of her pain and exhaustion. How this savage land could cradle such a hidden gem was beyond her. All she could think about was running to that exquisite water and diving into it's cool embrace.