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  ... Rafael was on the floor, or at least something taking the form of Rafael was. It was a strange sight for Eli because he could never in a million years actually picture that a person he thought of as being so strong would be reduced to this barely-alive form in front of him. But upon closer inspection... it was undeniable, that was in fact, Rafael in the flesh.

  The blue and orange jacket of the Penal-Unit uniform had been taken off of his body rendering the man shirtless, his front chest bare and stained by dried blood – some of it smudged by a hasty attempt to cleanse it with alcohol. His chest struggled to rise, and each time Rafael took a breath of air in it sounded like pigs squealing. Painful, labored, breathing which Rafael only barely accomplished. His mouth was also covered in blood and whatever had been expelled from his core in vomit in a similar manner, any apparent attempts at cleaning him up were rushed in the frenzy of the bombardment, clearly.

  Eli practically dashed to Rafael’s side. He was semi-conscious on the floor. His usually dark skin looked pale and miserably ill. Though that much was obvious. Also obvious was the cause of his ailment.

  “It was the gas,” Matteo sighed.

  Eli took a kneel at Rafael’s side, looking his body up and down before. He tried his hardest but horrible images of Cato’s envenomated body lying motionless in the jungle kept resurfacing. Fading memories of his conversation with the dying man, how he suffered only to find redemption in his grave. Nihilistic resignation to his own inevitable death, Eli could never imagine that same fate befalling the revolutionary of the pack himself.

  Perhaps as some way to find reassurance that Rafael’s fate would be different, he asked, “What happened?”

  “After everything went pear-shaped, we started running like Sparrow planned. Put on our masks, except Rafael couldn’t find his,” Badger said to Eli while caressing Rafael’s dark hair, “It was too dark inside of the building. And with all the smoke and gas…”

  “He’s alright though. Right? He’ll survive?” Eli turned to Matteo’s face, barely visible only for what little illumination the flashlight could provide. He could see him close his eyes and his beard contort in resignation, “Right?” Eli was practically begging him.

  “Eli,” Matteo sighed, “There’s only so much I can do...“

  That single admission was like a blow to Eli's gut. It felt as if the air in his lungs had been forced out. Unsteady legs forced Eli to a kneel next to Rafael's side where his condition looked even more grotesque up close. Not quite as horrible as Cato when he'd been envenomated by the Howler's poison dart, but Rafael wasn't too far removed from that either. Despite Rafael's condition, all Eli could do was stare at him, watching as his eyes seemed to drain from out of his body.

  “Eli,” Omar’s small voice pierced through the darkness, “Matteo is right. He tried everything to save Rafael. He isn’t dead yet but…” Omar shrugged as he finished cleaning the blood from Rafael’s mouth, with shaking hands.

  “He will be if he doesn’t get to a hospital,” Badger whispered.

  “Even then, the odds aren’t in his favor. He’s in a better state now than Cato was, but I cannot stabilize him. I don’t have those drugs on me,” the old man shook his head, “When we went to go get Cato, I was more prepared. I stole the stabilizers they had in the infirmary. But for this, all they gave me was a first aid kit! I don’t even have a thermometer in here, it’s just gauze and… painkillers. That’s it!”

  Eli exhaled, feeling the familiar sense of defeatism crawl its way back into his soul once again. He wanted to try and cling on to something that would give Rafael a fighting chance. But there was none. Time wasn't on their side, and unless Overwatch had their ride out of Helena directly above their heads - which they did not - time would remain their enemy. Either Overwatch was close, or they would be too late.

  At least, until Otaes spoke up, “There might be something I could do…”

  All eyes on the group turned to her. She looked unsure. But certainly, any help at all was something, “Please,” Eli said, “Anything at all…”

  “My healing magic can only do so much. The Imperialists create these terror weapons specifically so magic can’t fix their effects. But I can’t heal him completely,” She inhaled, “But I can at least try to stabilize him. It’s the least I can do.”

  “You’d be doing us a favor we could never repay you for,” Eli told her.

  “You don’t have to. You’ve helped me, I’ll help you. There’s no need for debt,” Otaes took a few steps closer, still quite uncertain, “I’ll do what I can. No promises.”

  “Well, so long as you don’t kill him, you can’t make it worse right?” Dutch shrugged giving her the space necessary, "By all means."

  She knelt down next to Eli and over Rafael’s sick body. She stretched her hands out over his chest, hovering for a moment. Her glowing blue eyes closed from behind her Kitchi mask, and for her hands, magic. Misfit watched in awe as the blue glow cascaded over Rafael, lights dancing across his skin. Rafael took a sharp breath in, obviously affected by the magic, but his breathing was still hard and labored. Squealing each time his lungs filled and emptied.

  As for Otaes, it looked like she was carrying mountains. Her muscles tensed, completely locked in. She was lost in her work, and Eli feared breathing next to her for fear of interrupting her work. He held his breath too in anticipation. Would it work? It had to. At least somewhat. No matter what, Rafael could not die. And who knew when their flight out of Helena would arrive with the Imperial signal jam still active? Eli just wished there was more he, or the rest of Misfit could do.

  He looked across to Matteo, who closed his eyes and bowed his head towards Otaes. ‘wait and see’ Matteo was trying to tell him. Eli knew he owed a great deal to Matteo as medic, not only for helping to heal him but also for Rafael and Cato. He regretted yelling. Again. Just like that time when they were in the forest alone… had Matteo forgiven him? Or was he never going to forget the time Eli pulled a gun on him? He shouldn’t forgive Eli. That was stupid and irresponsible of him. Eli wouldn’t forgive himself for that, neither should he. How many times would Eli completely overreact and find himself apologizing in secret to Matteo? How many offenses would he just keep committing?

  There was a spasm from Rafael’s body. His arm twitched, his muscles strained, and his face twisted. It looked like he was on the verge of waking up! Otaes was trembling, her hold on Rafael was faltering. The blue glow waned as her strength grew weaker.

  And then it slipped entirely. She collapsed backwards in complete exhaustion, “Otaes!” Eli rushed over to her, and he was joined soon by the others.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Are you alright?” Dutch asked.

  “I’m… I’m alright!” She wearily said, accepting a hand given to her by Badger that helped her up to her feet.

  “Rafael! He’s waking up!” Omar said, putting an ear to his chest, “Otaes did it!”

  From Rafael, there was coughing. Their attention drifted back to the patient, as he stirred. Otaes had done it. But Rafael’s cough was a nasty one, almost like someone sick with pneumonia who could hardly breathe through their fluid filled lungs. His eyes flickered open.

  “Rafael! Rafael!” Badger was the first one to call out, “You’re alive!”

  Rafael nodded stiffly, still quiet.

  “Are you alright?” Eli tentatively asked.

  There was an uncomfortably long period of uncertain silence from Rafael. He coughed, and he breathed in. He looked to Eli, and smiled, “Still alive Soldier Boy… they can’t kill me-“ He descended into another fit of horrific coughing, but it didn’t stop the feeling of relief that coursed through Eli’s veins. Otaes had done it. Rafael still looked unwell, just like Cato did while he was “Stabilized” in the Warrior Elf triage. But, at least he was stable.

  For now.

  “How do you feel?” Matteo asked him.

  “Like shit.”

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “No,” He descended into another coughing fit. Matteo placed an ear to Rafael’s chest, grimacing to himself, “Everything hurts,” Rafael winced in pain.

  “His insides are still all messed up. I don’t think he’s bleeding internally anymore. But there’s still a lot of fluid left from when he was, inflamed airways, god knows what kind of damage the gas is doing if it can infiltrate his bloodstream.”

  “You think he’s got pneumonia?” Badger asked him.

  “Possibly,” Matteo said, “Whatever it is, he still needs a hospital. Fast. Thankfully, Otaes brought us some more time.”

  “And it’s precisely time we don’t have,” The voice was a new one. Eli looked up to find Sparrow of all people, standing in the darkness just a while off looking at the scene. He gave a brief smile to Eli, almost in self-recognition of his own surprising ability to just materialize at random.

  “I thought we were making camp here until the helicopter comes?” Dutch asked him.

  “Uh-uh. We regrouped here but cannot stay,” Sparrow gestured towards the direction of the ULA base, “The Imperials are not going to gas us and bomb the base and just let us go. They’re coming, and I think that they know exactly where we are. The NSE’s Alpha units are going to hunt us down, and by the time they get here we need to be gone.”

  “There’s nowhere else to run,” Otaes said to him, “It’s just the shipping containers in the port and then the Gulf of Azure.”

  “We use the shipping containers to hide. The piers are the perfect size for one of your helicopters to land and they’re protected behind the containers. We use those to set up a trap and ambush the Imperialists if we have to. But that is a last resort. Half of my men are already dead,” Sparrow said.

  “Yeah. You sacrificed them-“

  “They gave their lives for the cause.”

  “Suspiciously, it’s always someone else giving their lives for the cause but never you,” Otaes narrowed her eyes.

  “You already know that I’ve sacrificed everything for the revolution. I’d gladly give my life too, but only when the situation demands it.”

  It was hard to make out through her mask, but the way her glowing eyes narrowed behind the painted surface gave Eli the impression of disgust. Sparrow was fanatical. That was the issue. Not even a revolutionary cut from the same cloth as Rafael, but someone far worse. Fanatics were not to be trusted. Otaes knew it, Eli knew it. Even if Sparrow hated the Imperials and Overwatch, he was not to be considered a friend. There was a reason he was willing to keep all the people in the ULA base, and he probably would’ve too had Eli not disobeyed him.

  He could tell Sparrow was reaching for a weapon of his own. He didn’t know if the rest of Misfit could see what was about to happen. But they were so close to making it out of Raritan, having the two break out into fighting now would ruin everything so far.

  Eli didn’t have time to weigh his options. He moved to go and interrupt them. But just as he stood, there was an alarming noise from just outside.

  Deep, echoing, mechanical. A roar that sent shivers down Eli’s spine.

  It was the call of a sentry. The Imperials had already arrived.

  Everyone looked to the wall closest to the source of the noise as if they could see through the shoddy metal construction.

  “Scrap…” Sparrow muttered, he mean mugged Otaes one last time before turning his attention to the rest of Misfit, “We need to go. Now!” He announced, not just to the squad of Phantoms but also to his rebels. They grabbed their weapons and what remaining equipment they had left, preparing to leave as the darkness was flooded with movement and activity.

  Otaes let out an angry grunt, before she too peeled away

  “So, you almost tried to kill our ticket out of here,” Eli said as he walked up to her.

  “He put Temetet, you, and dozens of innocent people in harms way just to get what he wanted. If it wasn’t for you doing something insanely stupid – no offense – everybody would’ve died. Except for him,” Otaes said watching Sparrow as he gathered his rebels together and linked up with Sosa and Bell, “He never gets hurt by his own schemes. Only people around him. We’re all just tools to him. I should’ve killed Sparrow when I had the chance…”

  “I know you want to slit his throat and have his blood spill on the floor. I do too. But he’s the only thing getting us out of here. I still need him alive.”

  Otaes sighed, looking down, “I know. Unfortunately.”

  “Look I trust you. And if you don't trust Sparrow, I don't trust Sparrow. You’re one of the few sane people outside of Misfit that I've met. You’ve helped me more than I can repay you, ever. And I mean that. If I have the power to do something, I won’t let him put anybody in harm’s way. Not you, not Temetet, not Misfit, not anyone.”

  Otaes’ eyes locked with his once more. Behind the mask, the glow seemed warm. Empty of the hate filled spite they carried just moments ago, “Thank you…” She whispered to him, though her voice was shaking with an emotion Eli couldn’t read.

  “Let's go. The Imperials are on our ass," Eli said.

  Misfit grabbed their things in the darkness. Matteo and Omar both volunteered to carry Rafael, leaving Badger, Eli, and Dutch to defend the squad. Of course, they were joined by Otaes, Temetet, and Archer. All three of them standing by their side.

  When everyone had gathered together, the doors to the warehouse were flung open, and they marched out into the storm once again. The pattering of raindrops on the streets seemed to have fallen harder than they had before, yet the darkness of the cloudy early-morning hadn’t faded yet. Within that darkness, they had cover. Good news as Eli caught a glimpse of what had become of the ULA base.

  Among the rubble and debris, it was swarming with Imperials. Two sentries cast red spotlights over the mountain of devastation as soldiers and dragons searched. Though they were far away now, they’d catch on soon that the rebels had mostly escaped. And when they did, there would be only one final battle at the port.

  Their last stand.

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