In a Time of Silence

Chapter 3

Hawk sucked the crisp autumn air in through her nostrils almost violently. Just a generation ago, an onlooker might have seen a woman simply drinking in the morning. Perhaps camping, about to heat herself up a cup of coffee.

Dear god, she thought, I'd fake faith just for a shitty cup of joe.

She stood on the edge of a tall embankment, gazing out across the small valley where the ruins of the old suburban sprawl was nestled. Her relaxed stance at odds with the intensity of her gaze, seeking signs of life below.

Hunting.

She saw little movement besides a small, lazy plume of smoke rising from the direction She believed the bug boys had camped for the night. She was surprised they hadn't moved on yet.

She sighed heavily, turning on her stiff knee and allowing herself a mild limp for a few steps before shifting her gait to hide the injury- something that, like most things She did was strategically preformative. Less dangerous opponents would miss it. More dangerous ones would assume it inhibited her more than it did.

As she cleared the grove of tangled pines and brambles, Cain glanced over at her.

"Anything?" asked Cain.

Hawk gave a slight shake of her head, and Cain stood, slinging his pack over his shoulder. "Alright then. Down the river path?" Cain asked rhetorically, know Hawk wouldn't answer.

They'd already scouted the shorter path home as far as Hawk was willing to without alerting the paramilitary fucks to movement.

Cain followed his silent partner, as always, moving to cover her without much thought. The two of them had been together since the fall, and developed a natural rhythm after years of working side by side. Little communication was needed. They stopped in tandem, moved in concert, and knew where the other would be at all times.

Hawk would stop and check the surroundings every so often, grunting quietly in disapproval. Cain wasn't sure Hawk knew how to grunt in anything but disapproval, but was generally amused by the broad vocabulary of her grunts. There was little Hawk couldn't convey with nothing more than a look or a grunt.

After a few hours of searching, Hawk came to a dead stop, crouching and rifling through some deadfall.

When she retracted her hand, pinched between her thumb and forefinger was a small, gleaming brass cylinder.

"Is that?" said Cain.

Hawk grunted in acknowledgment. It was one of the rounds she'd reloaded for Char. She could see the tool marks she'd made clear as day. She set about rifling through the area, looking for signs of a scuffle. Before long she found more than enough to be sure.

"How many?" Asked Cain.

For a moment, Hawk was silent. When she stood, she held a shattered chunk of what appeared to be a human femur, expertly bleached.

"At least five, give or take." she rumbled as the blood drained out of Cain's face. "Maybe three hours or so. We have time."

Hawk stared at Cain for a moment, her eyes unfocused as she drew her thoughts about her before reaching out and placing her hand firmly on her companion's shoulder.

"You'll have to track them yourself Cain. Char was alone. I have to find Raven."

She felt Cain stiffen slightly at that. Cain was a brilliant tracker himself, and they knew where the local Scavs were camped, but the they both knew that there was little chance of him retrieving Char alone, especially as starved as they were.