REVENGE (2nd book of FEAR)

- chapter three -

"He's waking up!"

Light flooded his vision. His ears were ringing, piercing in his brain. He felt like screaming. He felt like death. His mouth was dry, and he couldn't gather enough saliva to even swallow. His eyes eased from the pain of the light, and he was able to open them a sliver.

His vision faded in and out. He heard voices from a distance. But, when he opened his eyes... they were right in front of him. It didn't add up. His mind was fuzzy and struggling to get a grip. Locus fought to keep his eyes open and his mind awake. He desperately wanted to fall back into that thoughtless state of mind.

"Easy, easy, easy," a gentle voice met his ears. Locus almost laughed when he could actually understand it. He groaned, feeling the exhaustion in his body settle in. "Can you open your eyes for me?" The stranger spoke again.

Locus pulled his eyelids apart, each of them feeling like twenty pound weights. "Perfect," the voice cooed. He could see who it belonged to now. An older woman. She was brunette, but was graying at her roots. She looked to be about fifty.

The woman beamed a generous smile, "You've been out for a couple of days. You were sick with a minor case of what we call frostnip. Do you remember?" The mercenary felt panic grow in his heart as he sat up on the makeshift bed. "The girl..." He fretted with a weak voice.

"Bella," the lady grinned again, "She's alright. Healthy, too. Thanks to your alleged can of tomatoes." A sense of relief washed over Locus as he exhaled deeply and relaxed back into the bed. "Where am I?" He coughed, looking around the room. It was a small tent, big enough to fit three beds and first aid supplies. He guessed that this was the infirmary.

"A refugee camp, about thirty miles south of any major city," she cleared her throat, "This is where citizens fled to when the war began. Those who couldn't or wouldn't fight." Locus flinched at the sound of the battle he helped start. A sickening feeling entered his stomach.

The woman seemed to notice his discomfort and frowned, "Are you feeling alright?" She started to move towards him, but he quickly held up a hand that told her to stop. "Who are you?" Locus peered at her quizzically.

The stranger was taken aback, offended. A scoff escaped her lips, "It seems that I should be asking you the same thing." The soldier chewed on the inside of his cheek as he hesitated, "Locus."

The woman raised an eyebrow, amused, "Are you trying to tell me that there's a bug in the room?" It's Locus, not locust, the mercenary thought. He glared at her, "It's my name." She laughed, testing the world on her tongue, "Locus." He nodded, "I'm starting over."

"That makes two of us," she smiled, holding out her hand to shake, "Sheryl. I'm the founder of this camp. I'm also the present doctor, if you didn't piece that together already." Locus showed her a slight nod of greeting, then began searching the room.

"Where are my things?" He glanced down at himself, realizing his armor was gone. He was in a tan colored t-shirt with tattered gray pants. "I had a few of my people put your things in a nearby tent. You're welcome to stay, but we'll understand if you go on your way," Sheryl said with a warm tone.

Locus was skeptical about this woman's generosity. They had just met. Why was she being so kind? He understood that this was a refugee camp where everyone was welcome, but did she know of him? Did she know that he was involved with Charon Industries and almost destroyed Chorus?

He shook his head, reminding himself that he changed. He was no longer a mercenary. He was no longer a soldier.

"You don't mind?" Locus raised an eyebrow. "Oh, goodness no!" Sheryl put a hand to her heart dramatically, "We'd be honored to have a veteran stay and help out!" The soldier crinkled his brow in confusion, "Veteran?"

"You... did serve in the war, didn't you? That's why you have weapons and armor?" The doctor tilted her head. Locus almost laughed at her obliviousness. "Of course," he smiled through clenched teeth. Maybe lying wasn't a part of the "change" he promised himself.

"I don't mean to overstep, but... We could really use some help around here. People are starving and there are multiple threats of raiders," Sheryl's voice changed from kind to worried. Her face did the same.

"Whatever I can do to help," Locus replied without hesitation. "Oh, thank you! We could really use some security and scouting... considering your military experience," she sounded relieved yet panicked.

You wouldn't know the half of my 'military experience', he joked with himself. "I'd be happy to do it," Locus nodded. "I'll have someone show you around to our accommodations. If there's anything you need, please come and see me," Sheryl shook his hand again for the second time.

"Thank you," he cleared his throat, "for helping me." She smiled at him warmly, then placed a hand on his shoulder, "Go get some rest. You'll start your work tomorrow." Locus nodded then left the tent.

This camp was his new beginning. His chance to start anew. He wanted to make a difference, this time for the good. Locus knew that he couldn't fix the horrors he had committed in the past. He just hoped that he could fix the person that he had become.