Destiny Drabbles

"Just follow me, I know the area."

Summary

Day 2 of the Fictober challenge I didn't finish. 

Zavala and Cayde follow a suspicious pull into the EDZ.

Zavala does his best to step quietly through the brush and undergrowth as Cayde leads him into the dead zone. The Farm is behind them, Hawthorn and Devrim managing the civilians and lightless guardians while their own lucky guardian is busy retrieving Ikora from Io. Ikora, Zavala's stomach clenches at the thought of her. Still, he doesn't know if she is alive or dead. He prays she is alive, even without the light he felt he would know if she were dead, but he knows that's only wishful thinking. He couldn't operate on wishful thinking, not in a war.

Even still, if she were alive, he doubts she would think too kindly of him and Cayde venturing into the dead zone on their own. Hawthorn knew where they were going, but they'd refused any offers for assistance or escorts, it wasn't as if the Vanguards were unfamiliar with danger. Part of him is glad Ikora isn't with them, and is hopefully safely with their guardian, on her way to the farm and out of harm's way. The other part of him reminds him that Io is under the Legion's control, and therefore unsafe, just as they are. Ikora can handle herself, he knows, but he isn't fond of the idea of her on the planet at all, regardless of its connection to the traveler.

His roiling thoughts and worry threaten to suffocate him, eased only slightly by the presence of the bright eyed Hunter, creeping just ahead of him. He fixes his eyes on the Hunter, grounding himself to his other fireteam member, safe beside him, for the time being anyways. If he wants it to remain that way, he'll need to stay vigilant.

They were coming up to a small fallen camp. A fallen banner was being used as a tarp at the back of the little camp, tied to a set of trees to make a sort of shelter below which fallen squatted, eating and resting. Closest to Cayde and Zavala were the reason Cayde had led him here—three pikes, all unoccupied, open for the taking.

He watches Cayde stare at the fallen like a cat ready to catch a meal, and grips his arm just as the Hunter's hand finds its way to grip his Ace at his thigh.

"Wait." Zavala hisses. "There are likely more nearby." He warns, and Cayde glances at him before scanning the area with his eyes. As it turns out, his guess is correct, more fallen teams visible in the distance, far enough away to not concern him, but close enough that a firefight would inevitably draw them in. On the pikes, he knew they could zip right past them, or shoot them if need be, but they had to take out the fallen team before them first.

There were only two fallen at the camp, one squatting under the banner, the other holding a gun and pacing the area. As they wait, a third approaches from around a large boulder behind them, approaching the second fallen and beginning to speak to it in harsh, guttural tones.

"You take the squatter, I've got these two." Cayde tells him, nodding to the two speaking in the center of the camp. He nods in return, raising his gun and firing on Cayde's mark, nailing the rear fallen through the head just as the hunter buried two knives deep into the other's throats.

They don't waste time after that, not bothering to look to see if any of the other fallen had noticed the shot he'd fired. Instead, they leap to the pikes. Cayde snatches his knives from the still wriggling fallen bodies before he leaps onto a pike, gunning the engine and shooting forward, Zavala just behind.

They'd only been riding for a little over a minute before his feet grow positively icy. He'd never been one to back down from a fight, even if he felt he would lose, so long as it was his life on the line and not someone else's, but now, he was a commander in the middle of a war, his soldiers scared, angry and lightless. If this was a risk he didn't have to take, it was one he shouldn't be taking.