The Remnants of War #2
“Are they? The things that were created to kill our kind?” someone asks, hostility clear in his voice.
“So that’s what they wanted all along,” another one whispers.
“That’s not true,” Ahren says sharply, but I raise my hand, motioning him to remain silent.
“Right now, we need to take control of the situation. The drakaths are the least of our concerns. So how about…” I trail off quietly when my attention falls on the body that lies on a makeshift bed.
The skin is completely grey, with red veins running through him, and it takes me a minute to recognise him from his red jewelled earring.
Mikhail…
I walk towards his body, seeing the way his chest is torn up; whoever killed him showed no mercy.
The vampires step forward, hostility clear in their eyes. “If it wasn’t for Prince Mikhail, we all would have died,” one of the vampires says, his eyes glimmering dangerously.
I look back at the barely recognisable body of the Prince, knowing the loss is a heavy one. I then look at the vampire for a moment.
“Raul. Fourth Squad,” he identifies himself.
I nod. “How many survivors?”
I may not have been here for the last few weeks, but I was still a captain before I left.
“Eighty-seven confirmed,” Raul replies grimly. “Near four hundred dead from our count so far, and over seven hundred still unaccounted for.”
The number settles heavily in my chest.
“And who’s in command right now?”
Raul exchanges a look with several of the others before shaking his head.
“The Commander is dead, and so is the new Second-in-Command. We’ve lost most of the squad leaders as well.”
Silence follows.
The reality of it hits harder than the numbers.
This was a fucking massacre.
“Prince Mikhail would’ve chosen you to replace him.” The voice comes from my left.
I glance over and recognise Antonov standing amongst the survivors, blood staining his uniform; he was one of Mikhail’s most trusted men.
Several others nod in agreement, but I don’t acknowledge it.
Instead, my gaze sweeps across the devastation surrounding us, over the wounded, the dead, and the exhausted faces looking back at me.
There’ll be time for that later.
Right now, they need direction.
“Those who are still able to work, step forward.”
People immediately begin moving.
“Aldona, find Leo and the others. They survived the plane crash, and they’ll need to be brought up to speed.” Heaven nods before moving off.
“Sienna, I’m not sure how obedient the drakaths are or what they’re capable of, but see if you can put them to work. We need shelter before nightfall: tents, windbreaks, anything that gets the injured out of the blizzard.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.”
My attention shifts to Royce.
“Alpha Royce, organise work crews and establish a defensive perimeter. I want patrols rotating constantly and a secure area for the wounded. Just in case something happens, I want to know about it before it reaches us.”
Royce nods immediately.
“Consider it done.”
“Ahren, Ares, I need two things. First, get word back home and let them know exactly what happened here. Then start searching for survivors. Cover as much ground as possible.”
Ahren grimaces. “So, we’re doing all the running around whilst everyone else gets to stand still?”
“You can teleport.” I remind him pointedly.
“Fair point,” he sighs, but the moment he turns, he’s serious, and I know he’ll get the job done.
Ares smirks. “Get moving, Rossi,” he mocks him making someone chuckle, lifting the tension ever so slightly.
“Antonov, how many healers do we have?” I ask.
“Two; there were only two that survived from any of the outposts.”
I nod as Sienna turns to me, the drakaths moving behind her doing their own thing. It is weird seeing them do something other than attack or stand still. “I can heal. I’ve put them to work; they’ll do what’s needed.”
I trust her entirely, but the vampires don’t trust the drakaths, remaining on edge as the monsters work around them.
“Great,” I say. “Antonov, begin identifying the dead. We’re going to have to burn the bodies.”
I voice the hard truth because there are far too many bodies to transport home.
“Understood.” He moves off, and I walk over to Sienna, brushing my fingers through her hair.
“Just take it easy for me.”
She nods. “I will,” she replies before she steps back and walks towards the broken barracks.
For the first time since I got here, everyone begins moving with some sense of purpose. Orders are passed along, supplies are gathered from the wreckage, and teams start forming without hesitation.
Nobody questions my instructions; nobody argues, simply doing what’s needed after a battle, even if they don’t like it.
Because right now somebody has to lead, and the tension hanging over the survivors is impossible to miss. The vampires have lost their heir; those stationed here have lost their Commander and hundreds of their comrades in a matter of hours.
They’re grieving, exhausted and angry, and I don’t fucking blame them.
They are placing what little trust they have in me from the time I was stationed here, and obeying.
And whether I like it or not, right now that’s enough.
So, I shove aside the exhaustion, the turmoil, the grief, and everything else demanding my attention, watching as the first teams begin moving out across the ruined landscape.
Because if this is what’s left of our people, then I don’t have the luxury of taking a break and figuring out this entire thing regarding Sienna being bound to me in the one way she shouldn’t have been.
Not yet, not tonight.
Tonight, we regroup, we recover, and we grieve.