War Machines

7

     Morning. Faint light in the cave. I was lying in Zeke's bed, holding him in my arms. His eyes were open, looking silently back at me. We'd awakened to discover that, at some point in the night, he'd shifted. Now he lay on his right side, his wings over the side of the bed. His arms had gone around me, holding me tight to him even as I cradled him against me. We were breathing each other's air, close enough to kiss. He didn't let go. I didn't, either. Now neither of us spoke.

     Once again, the loud bang that had awakened us both echoed through the cavern. Outside, something pounded on the outer door.

     We lay as we were, in this parody of a lover's embrace, just looking at each other. I knew my wounds had healed enough that I could travel again. I didn't have to see them to know that his wings were all but healed as well. Somehow, I just knew. The bulk of my healing had been focused on him, after all. He could take me back today. In the same odd fashion, I knew Zeke was aware of this and that he didn't want to do it. This was a man who was regularly surrounded by people, all practically fighting each other for his attention. I'd never realized before how artificial it really was. Zeke could never be part of those crowds. Not even those who'd proposed marriage to him could ever really understand the ancient warrior in my arms. He was eternally set apart simply by what he was. The truth of Ezekiel the Pilgrim was here, in this lonely cave. His loneliness was like a physical force.

     Again the bang echoed through the cave.

     Taloned fingers moved and stroked through my hair. The sensation made me shiver, raised goose bumps on my flesh. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. "I do not want you to leave," Zeke whispered. "Stay with me?"

     "Take me home, Zeke," I told him quietly.

     The eyes closed, and once again, there was a flash of pain, this time from much deeper than his wings. "Alright," he said.

     I let him go, feeling a sharp pang of loss when our link was broken. Then it was gone. I grimaced. I'd focused the bulk of our shared energy on Zeke through the night. As a result, I hadn't received as much of the benefit as he had. The pain from my own wounds was much better, but I was still not in peak fighting condition. It didn't matter. Zeke would be able to fly now, and that was what mattered most. It was time to go back.

     That was, I amended as another loud thud sounded, as soon as we dealt with whatever was outside, trying to get in. But for now, it was safe enough, kept out by the heavy doors. We quickly cleaned up and dressed. My leg was able to hold me again. I was still limping, and running was going to be difficult, especially in armor. It would have to do.

     Zeke got into his supplies, and we ate a fast, cold meal of ravioli in tomato sauce. I realized now why all his supplies had come from Earth. There was nothing left on Home.

     The banging on the door intensified when I accessed my portal and got stiffly into my spare armor. Zeke dressed for battle as well in his familiar outfit. He was frowning as he looked toward the door. "There are several out there," he called.

     "Rats, lizards, or furballs?" I asked.

     "None of those, I am afraid."

     I cocked an eyebrow. "None of the above? Ok, what's option D?"

     "The worst of all," Zeke sighed. "Enhanced."

     "Enhanced?" My stomach dropped. "Your people?"

     "What is left of them." Zeke was calmly collecting his gear, but his lips were pressed into a thin line. "As I told you, they have all gone mad."

     I indicated the currently-empty fireplace. "Think they saw the smoke?"

     "They would ignore smoke. It is a common enough thing to find. I suspect it was scent that brought them."