Page 12 of Beast in the Badlands
EMRY
T he moment I step back into the Coalition med zone, a wave of familiar chaos washes over me. The air smells of antiseptic and despair, a mixture that sticks to my skin like oil. Eyes lift from makeshift cots—some relieved to see me, others narrow with suspicion.
I nod to them, feigning confidence. “I was out scouting for supplies.” Technically true. Just not the whole truth.
As I cross the threshold into the triage area, the chaos consumes me.
A young woman screams, cradling her arm—twisted at an unnatural angle—while a man nearby mutters incoherently about shadows chasing him.
Burn victims lie on stretchers, their skin mottled and blistered, each breath they take more labored than the last.
“Emry!” A voice breaks through the din; it’s Kira, her eyes frantic as she rushes toward me. “We need help over here!”
I spring into action without hesitation, pushing aside thoughts of Renn and our time together in that dilapidated med outpost. That momentary calm feels like a lifetime away now.
My hands work deftly as I assess the injuries: bandaging wounds, providing comfort to those suffering both physically and mentally.
But it hits harder now. The pain etched on their faces pulls at something deep inside me—a raw ache that claws its way up my throat.
I’ve seen quiet with Renn, moments when nothing existed but his presence and our shared breaths in a world turned to ash.
Here? Here it’s loud; here is where I feel the weight of existence pressing down like a leaden blanket.
I patch up a burn victim—his skin raw and red—and something shifts in me as he meets my gaze with gratitude that lingers longer than expected. Being thrown back into this chaos after being with Renn changes everything.
I glance around at the people waiting for care—their eyes filled with hope and desperation—and realize how much I've taken on in this role as medic. It’s not just about saving lives anymore; it’s about being seen amidst the wreckage.
“Next!” I call out sharply, but even I hear the tremor beneath my voice as I turn away from that boy's grateful smile. There’s an urgency now—not just for these people but for myself—to fight against apathy, against surrendering to despair.
I keep my head down, hands moving, but the whispers thread through the chaos around me like a dark current.
The war is getting worse. Coalition lines are collapsing.
The chance of evacuation? Slim to none. Each word weighs heavier than the last, and I force myself to focus on the patient in front of me, even as my heart sinks with every passing moment.
Kira slips in beside me, her brow furrowed in concentration as she helps restrain a soldier flailing on a cot. He thrashes, pain twisting his features into a mask of agony.
“Where’ve you been all this time?” she asks between gritted teeth, trying to keep him still while I work on cleaning his wounds.
“Scouting.” I force the word out, my voice clipped. “Crashed ship.”
She shoots me a look that demands more explanation, but I don’t give it. I can’t afford to think about what Renn might be doing right now or how far away he feels.
“It was picked over by the time I got there,” I add quickly, trying to shift the focus back to him instead of the emptiness that fills me.
Kira huffs as she shifts her grip on the soldier’s arm, meeting my eyes with that fierce determination I admire. She’s a civilian—a regular girl who somehow fell into this life and took to it like a duck to water after some rough training sessions with me.
“We could’ve used you here,” she snaps as she holds him steady. “I had no idea how much blood this guy lost before you showed up.”
I don’t respond right away. Instead, I check his vitals—rapid pulse beneath my fingers—then meet Kira’s gaze. She deserves better than this hell we’re living in.
“Just… trying to find anything we can use.”
I move faster now, wrapping gauze around wounds and sealing them tightly while avoiding eye contact with Kira; if I look too long, she’ll see through me—the fear lurking beneath my skin like a wild beast waiting for its moment.
“I get it,” she murmurs softly when the soldier finally calms down enough for us to start working on him properly. “But you can’t just disappear like that again.”
Her words hang heavy in the air, striking deep within me—a reminder that I’m not alone in this fight and that each moment spent scavenging is another moment spent away from those who rely on me.
With each wrap of gauze, thoughts flicker through my mind Renn’s storm-cloud skin against mine; his sharp teeth flashing in anger and something softer lurking beneath his gaze when he looked at me like I was worth saving.
I shove those memories aside as though they’re debris clogging up my headspace—clutter that doesn’t belong here among wounded souls begging for help and comfort.
Kira wipes sweat from her brow and leans closer so only I can hear her whisper amid the commotion surrounding us. “I overheard some talk outside... If things keep escalating like this…” She trails off as if afraid to finish.
My heart sinks further at her words—escalating—and all at once it feels suffocating here amidst cries for help and despair creeping into every crevice of our reality.
“We do what we can,” I say firmly but feel hollow inside as though all those good intentions are slipping through my fingers like sand.
Another shout pulls us back into the present—a woman being wheeled in, clutching her abdomen where crimson seeps through her shirt. Kira’s expression hardens instantly; her previous lightness disappears under pressure as we spring into action once more.
Each heartbeat pounds in rhythm with urgency and fear coursing through our veins while we work side by side amidst the broken pieces of humanity clinging desperately to life.
For now, there’s no room for thoughts of certain gray-skinned bastards—the chaos demands everything from us—and somehow that gives me purpose amid this shattered world still spinning out of control.