Eat Me Series Part 3
Fiona finds herself once again on a hot planet, in the middle of nowhere, with Johns and a struggling memory. Just like old times, save for the fact she doesn't remember the bald villain that is pushing havoc on the people aroun...
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"One night, three dead, not sure I'm loving this trend."
Fiona dropped down from on top of the ship, eyeing up the three men hovering over the enclosed dead bodies. The air was thick first thing in the morning, something she took note of when she had gotten up before everyone else. The sun had risen extremely slow, a gray cloud just off in the distance untouched by its power. She'd guess a storm. The rest of the crews had awoken after her, rising to coffee and a quick breakfast of dehydrated eggs and precooked bacon. Dahl had offered her a serving and she took it, avoiding the rest of the crew as best she could. She couldn't get rid of the sinking feeling that when this was done she'd be on her own, kicking the dust they were all mingling in now.
The three she had accompanied gave her a moment's glance but returned their concerned stares to one another. The Christian boy, who she had learned was named Luna, dropped down to kneel, shaking his head. The bodies were encased in a microfilm that sucked the air out and preserved them. Funerals, even distant future ones, always fared better when the body was fresh.
"Two dead, one missing." Vargas's optimism made his crewmembers chuckle. Diaz crossed his arms, the brute of a man just on Fiona's right. She sized him up in that instance, not too sure why. In her head she knew his weak points were his kneecaps, the heavy muscle throughout his body dense enough to take a bullet and leave him standing. She looked away from him quickly, shaking her head ever so slightly at the brashness of that insight.
"Exactly, three dead."
"Well look at it this way boys." She finally spoke up, all sets of eyes spinning to her sunglass covered face, her hood up, blocking the sun even more. "At least we can all fit on one ship now." She knew her sense of humor left a lot to be desired and judging by the grimaces on the faces around her, her smile wasn't helping the mood.
Before they could speak another word Santana strolled up, taking the attention as he pulled two giant bear traps behind him. He threw down the chains, eyes staring deeply at Diaz, his right hand man. "Find the rest of these fuckers and get rid of them." He swiveled, eyes momentarily stopping on Fiona before moving onto Luna. "Luna, say something bible like for these guys."
They watched the boss walk away before dispersing. Fiona stayed for a moment longer, listening to the prayer spilling from Luna's mouth. His prayers left her delving for memories. She could hear in her head the clanking of beads; the faint murmur's of voices long gone. As he wished them good fortune and a future in heaven Fiona felt her stomach knot up, the past right there waiting to be remembered. She hadn't the heart to mention they weren't going to the pearly gates, no merc worked hard enough to get right with Jesus.
With that she shrugged her hood off and silently followed after Diaz, watching his lumbering figure move out into the desert, looking for bear traps. If he knew she was there, which she doubted, he didn't let on. She kept her distance, watching him trapeze through the sand, kicking at rocks and sticks. He picked up a few stray limbs, using the ends to drag across the ground. His strength was his only redeeming quality, his inability to quietly survey, shoot, or notice anything around him left just that, she assumed. When they hit the rocks he went right and she grew tired of him, deciding to head off to the left.
