The Better to See

Chapter 2: Sarah

Sarah Blake, Reconnaissance, Hatchet rank, was wondering what was on the docket in the mess hall when she slipped around another dripping Belgian tree and almost stepped on the hand.

It was nearly lost in the leaf mould and undergrowth. The fingers glistened gray in the rain. She stirred the wet leaves covering it with the toe of her boot. It was an arm, not connected to a body. It ended just above the elbow. Sarah swallowed, and whistled back to David Gramm, low and long. Found something, Come see.

While she waited for him, she examined the arm. The hand was small and delicate, with dainty nails. The nails had the yellow tint of Esperanza's monsters. That was...not good. If Esperanza had her forces out here, the Woodsmen were going to have to move their headquarters. Maybe closer to home. Somewhere that spoke more English, and had less weather.

Ahead of her, she heard a low groan through the steady drip from the trees. Whatever violence had separated the arm from its owner had spared someone enough to moan. Sarah crept forward.

The trees thinned out, allowing the rain to spatter through onto a deep pit that stretched forty feet off to her right. She dropped to her belly and crawled to the edge. In spite of the cold morning drizzle, the stench was thick and choking.

The bodies were layered almost to the lip of the trench. Most were naked, but a few were wrapped in burlap or other cheap cloth. One close to the edge was twitching and whimpering. Sarah stared at him, heart in her throat.

He wasn't in good shape. Naked, he had needle tracks up both arms. One hand was missing several fingers. A rash covered his torso. He let out another whine.

David crept next to her. She pointed at the twitching man. David's eyes widened. Sarah tugged him back from the edge and drew him away, far enough to whisper without detection.

"Esperanza Foundation," she said, shivering. "They're getting a lot closer.".

David nodded. "That wasn't here two weeks ago." He was pale.

He had never been good at interrogations, Sarah remembered with sympathy, and steeled herself for what they had to do. "It's all right, David. I'll take this one. Cover me?"

He shifted. "Are you sure we should? There's just the two of us. What if he bites you?"

"That's a story," she said. "It's not contagious, not like that. It's genetic. And anyway, that's what you're here for. Also, I don't think he's in any shape to do much moving at all."

David nodded, following her back to the edge of the pit. She didn't crawl this time, but crouched by the lip near the still-living man.

"Hey," she said, breathing through her mouth to minimize the stink of death. "Can you hear me? Can you understand me?"

The man startled and began coughing. Sarah waited for the fit to pass. "Can you understand me?"

He nodded, and reached out with his mangled hand.

Sarah steeled herself. Never give aid to the enemy, or anyone who could be the enemy. Those were the rules. "Can you give us your name and hometown?"

It took him a few tries. "Derek Jenkins," he gasped out at last. "Seaboard Wall."

Sarah blinked water out of her eyes. "The Old Empire? How–no, never mind. How close is the Foundation?" Get as much pertinent information as possible, as fast as possible. Less important questions can wait.

He shook his head. Sarah cursed.

"What happened to you?"

Derek Jenkins coughed again. There was blood coming up with those coughs. "The doctors happened to me." He wobbled his head. "To all of us. Please, whoever you are, please just kill me quickly."