Page 8 of Beast in the Badlands
EMRY
T he solar cart hums softly beneath my hands as I steer it back toward the crash site, the old wheels creaking with every bump in the terrain. The wreckage looms in the distance, a jagged scar on the landscape. I scan the horizon for any sign of danger, my heart thudding against my ribs.
I shouldn’t be doing this. I should just leave him behind—let nature reclaim him as it has so many others. He’s an alien, one known for brutality, and every horror story I’ve heard whispers through my mind like a ghost.
But something tightens in my chest at the thought of abandoning him. He’s wounded, and while he might be a Reaper—whatever that means—he doesn’t seem so terrifying when he’s unconscious and bleeding out on my makeshift table.
“Damn it,” I huff out, pushing through my doubts as I approach the wreckage.
I park the cart close to where his ship crashed and begin to sift through the debris, eyes peeled for anything salvageable—medical supplies would be ideal, but I’ll take whatever I can find.
Metal scraps, cables, anything that might help me patch him up or barter with.
Not to mention, we're running low on just about everything back at the med zone.
As I dig deeper into the wreckage, searching for remnants of hope among twisted metal and shattered dreams, a sound pricks at my ears—a footstep too close for comfort. My heart thumps wildly as I turn slowly, scanning the area around me.
A figure emerges from behind a piece of jagged metal—tall and lean with a sneer etched across his face. He wears tattered combat gear marked with symbols of one of the factions that fought in orbit.
“Well, well,” he drawls, brandishing a weapon that glints menacingly in what little light filters through the clouds. “What do we have here? A little scavenger trying to play hero?”
“Back off,” I say firmly, though my pulse quickens.
He steps closer, eyes narrowed like a predator sizing up prey. “You’re not in charge here. Hand over your gear before things get messy.”
I take a breath and try to reason with him. “This isn’t yours. Neither is my gear. Back off.”
He scoffs at my words, confidence brimming as he paces toward me. “I'm the one who shot this shit down. Everything here is mine now.”
I clench my fists at my sides; fear gnaws at me but doesn’t overshadow the anger rising like bile in my throat. “You think you can just take what you want?”
His grin widens—a predatory flash that sends icy tendrils down my spine.
“Yeah,” he says simply.
Time slows as tension thickens between us—I refuse to back down even when every instinct screams at me to run. This bastard came here for supplies—and now he wants to take something a little extra.
“I know what you’re thinking but?—”
Before I can finish, he lunges. His weight crashes into me, knocking the breath from my lungs as he drags me to the ground. My pulse races as I struggle against him, my hands pushing against his shoulders.
“Get off!” I shout, twisting beneath him. He grabs at my pants, fingers fumbling like a leech searching for a vein. Panic surges through me, and instinct kicks in—I scoop up a handful of ashen sand and hurl it into his face.
He howls, eyes widening in surprise as the gritty substance blinds him momentarily. But fury replaces shock. He slams his fist into my gut, and fire erupts in my abdomen. Stars dance across my vision.
I gasp for air, trying to wriggle free, but he grips my wrists with iron-like strength, pinning them above my head. “You’re not getting away that easy, you fucking whore,” he growls, leaning closer.
Before I can react, the scout suddenly goes flying off me.
Renn appears, his tall frame awkwardly supported by a half-working exo harness. The thing sputters and groans like it’s more rust than metal, but he’s somehow managed to drag himself upright, getting his legs to work with a little assistance from ancient tech.
He lunges at the scout, muscles taut and fury igniting his every movement. I watch in frozen shock as Renn rips into the man, tearing him apart with a speed that’s brutal yet precise. It’s not a messy attack; it’s surgical. Each motion screams power and intent.
I stare at the display of raw strength and brutality unfolding before me. My heart thunders in my chest as I witness something primal awaken within Renn—a force unleashed in defense of me.
The scout’s body crumples to the ground with a thud, lifeless. My breath catches in my throat. I’ve seen violence before—hell, I deal with it daily—but this… this is something else.
Renn stands over the body, chest heaving as if the act of saving me drains him further. Blood drips from his claws, pooling on the cracked earth beneath us.
He turns to me, eyes blazing with a mix of primal instinct and something deeper—something fierce.
It hits me hard—both terrifying and oddly comforting.
The exo harness sparks violently from exposed wires before it gives out completely with a groan of metal under strain.
Renn collapses onto his knees beside the scout’s body; pain flashes across his features as he grits his teeth against it—fury mixes with agony etched into every line on his face.
“Renn…” My voice trembles as I rush to him, fear lacing my words even as relief floods through me.
I kneel beside him, pulse racing, trying to process what just happened. The lifeless scout sprawls on the ground like a discarded doll, and Renn's presence looms large over me, primal and fierce.
“Why did you follow me?” I snap, voice dripping with disapproval. “You should’ve stayed put.”
He growls low in his throat. “Because you didn’t come back. And that’s not allowed.”
A jolt of something unnameable flares in my chest at his words—something warm and protective that I haven’t felt in ages. It rattles me; I shake my head, willing myself to dismiss it. I wasn’t even gone that long, but still…
My eyes dart down to his legs, blood soaking through the bandages. The exo harness lies crumpled beneath him—damaged beyond repair, wires exposed like entrails.
“Look at this,” I mutter as I assess the wreckage of metal and circuitry. “It’s toast. You shouldn't have been walking at all, who knows how much you've fucked up your healing process.”
He scoffs, amusement dancing in his red eyes despite the pain etched across his face. “I just saved your ass. Say thank you and stop bitching.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at him, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Yeah, well…you shouldn’t have followed me,” I counter, though it lacks conviction.
With a resigned sigh, I start pulling apart the pieces of the exo harness—tossing them aside like yesterday's news. Nothing here is salvageable.
Renn grunts as he shifts beside me, struggling against his injuries. He needs to get up; we need to move before more scavengers come looking for trouble.
“Let’s get you on your feet,” I say reluctantly as I position myself under one arm and hoist him up. He leans heavily against me; every muscle strains under his weight as we make our way to the solar cart.
I drop him onto the seat with a thud that sends a ripple of pain across his face.
“Thank you,” I mutter stiffly as I turn away before he can respond—a small concession for all he’s done.
The cart groans beneath him as I scavenge around the wreckage one last time, tossing pieces into the back with a practiced hand. Metal clangs against metal with each throw until there’s little left but debris and echoes of destruction.
As I push him along through the gray terrain, a frown settles on my brow. “Next time you leave this outpost,” I say over my shoulder without looking back at him, “you better be prepared to limp your ass all the way back on your own.”
He doesn't respond. But I swear I see a smirk on that arrogant mouth of his.