Primal Gambit

Chapter 9: Sunrise

Through the barred window the white sun peered over distant ash clouds on the horizon, casting beams across the room and onto the glossy wooden floor. Particles drifted lazily in the early morning light and became ensconced in shadows once more. The light flowed slowly to the bed, agitating a sleeping Valerie who in turn nestled closer to Doerrman's bare chest. The soldier was unfazed – deep asleep, a hibernating Kodiak. Out of instinctive reflex he wrapped his arm tightly around her thin, nude frame. She nuzzled deeper into his grasp, the only place she felt safe. For a moment, the entire apartment around them was silent. She listened to his relaxed heartbeat, rubbing a hand across his sparsely tattooed chest. She felt him, matching his rhythm and breathing in unison.

Doerrman's free hand lifted, scratching the irritated skin around a new tattoo on his triceps – done by Vikhr in a drunken squad-building exercise. Valerie was buried by her soldier and she savored every moment, inhaling deeply the pheromones of a man still waking. Minutes passed like seconds – good times never lasted, and as the reality of the day set in Valerie was the first to take action. She patted him on the chest gently, slowly pecking up his jawline until she reached his ear:

"Come on, time to get up." Her words were met by guttural rumbles. She smiled and leaned forward, separating herself from Doerrman's arms. He unconsciously began to rub her back, placing his free arm behind his head. The man watched her hair drift across the square of her back as she inhaled.

"It's never time to get up." His hoarse words came into coherence and she grinned. In between yawns, he continued: "Not when your day is made up of pointless mental-wellness evals and a psyche wipe." He wanted to roll over and skip the day ahead. Valerie cared about him and would not allow it.

"I can't have you breaking down at four in the morning telling me about the women and children Vikhr opted to kill or the things you've done personally. It's happened too much in the past. Maybe they've revised the wipe this time around." She regretted her words, understanding the harshness and venom they carried into Doerrman. He said nothing.

The statement landed too hard, but Valerie had other engagements to commit worry to. To her dismay, new intelligence landed in Darwin's hands – data that alluded to the plan to breach the professor from captivity. Valerie had certain unease about it, a feeling that the fate of it would land on her shoulders. The leader had a propensity for exploiting people with no ties to the cause and the girl began to feel the wrenching consequences of Doerrman becoming the next one roped in. She was not even able to be by his side during his first day stateside.

"Spending the day in bed, thinking about the day you and I spent at the Tirade Marsh is a better psyche wipe than the pills and virtual reality they put us through," he yawned again, "those just leave you sick and coming back for more." Continuing to rub her back, he could see a smile creeping across her face.

"You know I didn't mean that in a bad way. It's just – I want to see you as healthy as possible, and I think going through military protocol is and always has been a good start at bringing your head back to level." She turned to him, delicately caressing his chest with her fingers – their locking eyes for a time.

"Here, I'll even pack your bag for you." She hopped from the bed enthusiastically and landed on her feet, reaching for the closet floor in search of Doerrman's rucksack after pulling a pair of panties over her exposed body. Once the yellow and gray pack was in hand, she laid it by his feet on the mattress and turned around. The soldier was in a bed alone again, and for a time he closed his eyes and saw the inside of the barracks. When he opened them, Valerie was gone.

"And how will you be spending the day?" He raised his tone enough for her to hear him from the kitchen. She answered with the same intonation:

"Darwin is having us go to Marcotte; we're spending the day handing out flyers regarding Sinew-Mouth." Valerie had told Doerrman of the many breaching policies employed by the staff at Marcotte for years now, the Sinew-Mouth policy being one of them. It entailed newborns in captivity having their lips sewn after one year. The soldier was skeptical of the intentions of the activist head – the lengths to which he would go and the risks he was willing to take to accomplish a task. She came back to the room, hands full.

"Do you trust Darwin? He doesn't have the cleanest track record." Doerrman had a straightforward and provoking aura about him. He was not afraid to cross boundaries.

"For the most part. I know he has made some sketchy dealings in the past to gather information and use it for our cause but I like to think he wouldn't knowingly put any of us in danger for it." Although Valerie spoke with understanding, she was naïve to the ends Darwin would go to. Years behind enemy lines allowed Doerrman to see it.

"Just be cautious around him alright? If he asks you to do something, think it through before submitting to the pressure of your squad. It's something I had to learn the hard way." He still had not left the bed as she put a gasmask, filters, and food into the pack.

"I remember the nights you told me about those mistakes. Don't worry, I won't let myself be pushed around if it comes to that end." She moved around the bed, gathering Doerrman's holster, pistol, and buck knife – placing them in the rucksack and zipping it shut.

"Now get up." She joked, jumping over him. He smiled, hands on her waist, kissing her deeply.

They belonged to each other.