Page 6 of Beast in the Badlands
EMRY
I keep my weapon steady, the barrel aimed at Renn’s chest as he lies there, muscles taut beneath his patterned skin. His presence fills the room, larger than life, a testament to everything I’ve heard about Reapers.
“Do you always greet strangers with a gun?” he asks, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
I don't crack a smile. “You look like you might bite,” I retort, my voice firm despite the tremor of uncertainty deep inside me.
He shifts slightly, testing his limbs as if weighing how much pain he can endure before giving in to it. I take a breath and lower my weapon just enough to ease the tension in my shoulders but keep it close enough that he knows it’s still there.
“What’s this place?” he asks, his red eyes narrowing as he surveys the crumbling walls and flickering lights.
“An abandoned Coalition med outpost,” I reply, keeping my tone even. “Used to be a hub for military logistics until they lost interest and moved on.”
“Lost interest.” He echoes the phrase like it tastes bitter on his tongue. “And now?”
“Now? It’s a ghost town,” I say bluntly. “Just me and a few others trying to survive.”
“Others?” His brow furrows slightly as if weighing whether to probe deeper or drop the subject altogether.
“Deserters, civilians—people who didn’t fit into anyone’s plans after the war,” I explain, crossing my arms against the chill of the room. “Like you.”
He studies me for a moment longer, something flickering behind those red eyes—curiosity? Intrigue?
“How did you find me?” He shifts again, pushing himself up slightly.
“I saw your ship crash,” I say without hesitation. “Thought it was another merc faction coming in for territory.”
Renn scoffs lightly, but his expression remains serious. “And instead of running away or hiding, you went straight to it?”
“I don’t run.” The words slip out before I can hold them back.
His gaze sharpens as if piercing through my bravado. “You stayed behind to help people here?”
“Someone has to.” My heart races; this conversation is raw and unfiltered—a dance along an edge neither of us should be teetering on.
He studies me again—this massive Reaper now trapped by injury but alive because of me—and I feel exposed under that gaze.
“What’s your plan then?” he asks quietly.
“To survive.” My grip tightens around my weapon. “And maybe help others do the same.”
I can feel his gaze on me, an intense weight that presses against my skin. It doesn’t just follow; it tracks, like a predator assessing whether I’m prey or something worth the hunt. I busy myself, adjusting the medical supplies scattered across the room, trying to ignore the heat of his stare.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” I ask, finally breaking the silence.
“Like what?” His voice is low, gravelly, yet there’s a hint of amusement dancing beneath the surface.
I shoot him a pointed look. “Like you’re trying to decide whether to eat me or kill me.”
He chuckles softly, but there’s no warmth in it. “Maybe both.”
I roll my eyes and step away from him to check the perimeter sensor. The soft hum of the machinery contrasts with the tension building in the room. My instincts scream at me to keep moving, stay alert. The last thing I need is a Reaper deciding to make a meal out of me.
The sensor emits a sharp ping, a warning that reverberates through the tense atmosphere, alerting me to movement outside.
It could be scavengers, a ragged band of desperate souls combing through the debris for anything remotely useful, or perhaps another group of wandering refugees, driven by hunger and need as they hunt for scraps in this desolate wasteland.
I instinctively pivot towards the broken window, the jagged shards of glass framing my view like a fractured picture of the world outside. My eyes narrow as I scan the horizon, searching for any sign of life amidst the swirling dust and debris.
For a fleeting moment, I catch sight of shadows flickering just at the edge of my vision, darting in and out of the dim light cast by the dying sun.
They dance like phantoms in the twilight, but before I can focus, they swiftly fade into nothingness, swallowed by the barren landscape.
The pit in my stomach tightens—I can't afford to let my guard down now.
When I return, Renn is attempting to rise from the table, determination etched into every line of his face. He grunts and pushes himself upright, but his legs buckle beneath him. He crashes down with a thud that sends ripples through my gut.
“Damn it,” I grumble as he sprawls on the floor.
“Help me,” he growls between clenched teeth.
“No.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare him down. “You brought this on yourself.”
“I can’t stay here like this.” His voice holds a sharp edge now, laced with frustration.
“Exactly! You can’t move without tearing those bandages open again!” My tone rises as I step closer, planting myself firmly in front of him. “You think you’re some kind of tough guy? You’re just another wounded animal right now.”
He scowls up at me; it’s an expression that could scare lesser men off their feet. But I hold my ground.
“You’re not the first monster I’ve dragged out of the dirt,” I snap back, venom in my words. “And you won’t be the last.”
Renn growls something low and dangerous—an instinctual response that makes my heart race and pulse quicken. The tension hangs thick between us like smoke in a burning room.
“Do you even know what you're dealing with?” he says slowly, each word dripping with an intensity that sets my teeth on edge.
“I know more than you think.” My voice comes out steady despite the surge of adrenaline flooding through me.
He watches me carefully as if weighing my resolve against his own strength—the feral nature still bubbling just beneath his skin despite being so vulnerable right now.
After several heartbeats of silence pass between us, I break it by checking his vitals one last time. As I press the scanner against his chest, something hums between us—a resonance that makes every hair on my body stand on end.
Renn stiffens slightly under the touch as if feeling it too—the pull that ignites something deep inside both our chests like an electric current coursing through our veins. It jolts through me before I jerk my hand away as if burned.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?