The Former Lover [Sequel To Military Minds]

Chapter 14

Gravel crackled and crunched beneath numerous pairs of boots, marching perfectly straight and in perfect unison. The morning sunlight blazed overhead, almost blinding the soldiers, their thick uniforms pasting to their damp skin. But relentless, they journeyed on, one thing on their mind: the target.

Rebecca Hearthrome had to die. It was payback.

Rowena Manchester walked to the front of the line of soldiers, her assault rifle resting against her collarbone. She had been training these amateurs for months - subjecting them to extreme weather conditions, situations, and training them with weapons until they could shoot the centre of a target in one, clean shot.

Pulling a hairtie from her wrist, she fastened her slick black hair into a ponytail at the top of her head. Her hair brushed the back of her uniform, whipping back and forth, as she quickened her walking pace. Sam and Jacinta had yet to return. Waiting for them was like waiting for a doctor at the GP.

She had sent them out to collect Hearthrome, and bring her back here. How long could it possibly take?

"Atten...tion!" She called out, stomping on the ground. Her soldiers instantly complied, lining up in a straight, horizontal line, their chests puffed out in pride.

"When Hearthrome gets here," she murmured, pacing slowly along the line, "I want you all to leave her to me, unless she brings company." She paused, turning on her heel in front of a fragile-looking young girl, around fifteen. The girl was petite, her long chestnut hair falling flawlessly over her breasts. Her brown eyes gazed straight ahead into nothing. "Understand?"

"Yes ma'am!" A chorus of yells echoed around her, all of the soldiers saluting.

"Resume your training," she muttered, turning away and padding along the gravel, towards the trees.

She drew out her nifty pocket knife, slashing off branches that threatened to make contact with her face, until finally, she was standing outside her personal cabin. It wasn't much, but it was where she had been staying for the past five years, since that petulant Hearthrome had destroyed her first hideout.

A rich white coat of paint was applied to the exterior of the cabin. The dark ebony wooden roof had been hand-carved, over three tiring weeks, and several wooden beams supported the roof from the front porch. Enticing, Rowena thought, to some degree. She had been growing a flower bed over the past month, successfully growing water lillies and white roses. It added life to the otherwise dull environment.

Admittedly, she hadn't picked the ideal location. The cabin was situated in a circular thicket of trees, cutting everything off from the outside world. But it was only temporary, after all. Soon she would have Hearthrome's blood on her hands, and she would be laughing, dancing over her dead body.

She still remembered Megan's death in vivid detail, and each time, it only pained her more.

Rowena had run across the field as landmines and bombs exploded around her from all directions, thick grey smoke curling towards her. She coughed and covered her mouth and nose, advancing on few of the Sunbury soldiers, but had paused immediately.

Hearthrome had been kneeling beside Megan, touching the side of her face, Megan's blood staining her palm red. Megan had been utterly immobile, and limp, her brown and blonde hair sagging around her breasts.

Rowena had screamed into the brown and grey clouded sky, her heart physically breaking inside her chest. Pain coursed through every vein, every molecule, and every pore of her body. Unable to remain standing, she'd fallen to her hands and knees, every ounce of strength and determination gone from her mind. She had felt cold, and lonely, as if a gigantic abyss had opened up beneath her feet and swallowed her into pitch black darkness.