Marked
Chapter 48

The helicopter blades beat the air with purpose. They whipped through the sky at blinding speeds; any noise they made was drowned out by the roar of the wind rattling the metal doors.

The horizon brought with it the sight of lapping waves, of gentle blue ocean waters, a clear sky dotted with wispy clouds that resembled the first snow of winter.

Now that the adrenaline had finally left her body, the pain in her foot returned, this time with a vengeance. The man with the red cross over his jacket—a medic, he said he was—carefully removed what was left of her shredded shoe, a whistle of air leaving his lips as he inspected her wound.

When he touched it, she winced and pulled her foot back in a knee-jerk reaction. Hector squeezed the hand that was closest to him, both of them leaning back against the cool metal of the helicopter’s interior.

The other men that had been with them during their escape also huddled together, all of them unharmed except for Tony who lay dead in one corner, covered by a white sheet that made the outline of his nose and mouth look ghostly.

She tried not to look at him, tried to forget how heavy her heart was for him in order to not ruin the relief she felt at having Hector alive and well beside her.

“How bad is it?” Hector asked, pulling her out of her reverie.

“It’s going to need stitches,” The medic replied. “But nothing too serious. I’ll put a temporary bandage on it for now until we get back to base.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Hector asked as the medic worked over her foot.

Rachel waited until the medic was done and had moved on to another patient before she replied. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Rachel,” He sighed. “I think after everything we’ve been through together, we’re allowed to be a little worried for each other.”

She shut her eyes together tightly in the hopes that it would be enough to hold back the tears that suddenly threatened to pour out. How could she possibly explain to him that she didn’t worry about him only a little bit? That worrying about him made her heart feel like it would rip out of her chest and her stomach roll with nausea.

How could she describe to him the days she’d spent unable to eat or sleep back at the bunker because she had thought he was dead?

She didn’t want to seem weak, but she was suddenly so exhausted, so tired of putting up a brave front. The past few days had taken a toll on her emotionally so that she didn’t even know who she was anymore. Hector was the one constant thing that remained in her life and the idea of losing him was unbearable.

“What’s the matter? Is it your foot?” He swiped his thumb across her cheek just in time to catch the single traitor tear that managed to escape.

“No, it’s not my foot,” She laughed a little as she reached a hand up to swipe the rest of the tears away, feeling foolish. “It’s just—” She hesitated, unsure if she should pour her feelings out to him.

Growing up with Ruth as her mother she’d learned that sometimes baring her emotions out in the open only left her vulnerable to getting hurt.

But then she thought of all the times they’d both nearly been killed; all the times he’d risked his life for her. Surely, he deserved to know how she felt. He’d gone to the capital twice now to save her and that thought alone was enough to strengthen her resolve.

“When I was climbing up the ladder to the helicopter and you weren’t behind me...I felt so...lost. I’d barely just gotten you back and then you were gone again, and I wasn’t sure I could handle it. I wasn't sure I could survive that a second time.”

She drew in a shaky breath, “Look, I-I’m not even sure what this is,” She gestured between them, feeling a little bubble of hysteria rising in her chest. “I mean, it’s not like we’ve really had the chance to sit down and talk about how we feel for each other. But what I do know is that you’ve become this essential part of my life and I can’t stand the thought of you not being there.”

He nodded his head and was silent for a few moments. A slow blush spread its way up her neck and across her cheeks, leaving her feeling hot. She could practically hear him thinking and was mortified he'd ask her to elaborate on these new and strange feelings.

She meant what she'd said but she didn't know how to put into words what she felt...or how strongly. Maybe she was afraid to admit it even to herself.

Finally, his eyes met hers and his face split into a grin.

“Some things don’t have to be expressed in words; you know? Sometimes, it’s just enough to feel them.” He cupped her face, their foreheads pressed against one another. Relief rushed through Rachel.

He’d sensed her fear, she was sure and so, he’d given her exactly what she needed--a gentle answer, wrapped in patience, and the space to share her feelings when she was ready.

Her heart clenched with emotion.

The roaring of the wind pressed around them.

Hector pulled back to look her in the eye and his warm eyes swept across her face, gaze so intense she had to fight the urge to shiver.

“You jumped in front of bullets for me,” He whispered, a hint of awe in his voice.

A breathy laugh escaped Rachel’s lips, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his wrist where his thumb still stroked idle circles against her cheek.

“And you went to the capital to save me. Twice."

His lips turned up into a lop-sided smile--her favorite.

“Yeah, well, I simply couldn't stand the thought of being away from you either. And—” He shrugged. “I’m here to stay, for as long as you’ll let me. Will you let me stay with you, Rachel?”

She wasn't sure who moved first, her or him, but in the next moment, their lips met, his hands in her hair. His lips were feather soft, slightly salty but they were perfect, each brush of his mouth bringing more and more clarity.

"Always," She whispered against his mouth and meant it.

Hector pulled away, still cradling her face in his hands.

"When we get to this new place, I want to know everything about you. I want to know your favorite color and you can tell me your favorite food. We’ll get to know each other, all the little, useless things that no one else cares to know.”

She looked into his brown eyes, swirling with sincerity, and wondered for the first time if there was some happiness to be found in this world. “I think I would love that.”

“Then it’s a plan.”

Rachel glanced out the window, a flash of blue sky and even bluer waters, curiosity winning. “Hector, where exactly are we going?”

As if to answer her question, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, “Requesting permission to land for Blackhawk J-67.”

“Scanning internal computer chip in progress. Please do not approach yet.” A man replied. “Scan complete, identity confirmed and access granted. Welcome back, airmen. Electromagnetic shield will deactivate at entry point and you’ll have fifteen seconds.”

Hector motioned for her to look out the window. At first she thought she was imagining the pulsating blue wall looming up before them, maybe confusing it with a reflection of light bouncing off the ocean water, until they crossed the invisible barrier and the expanse of blue waters became crudely interrupted by a giant hunk of metal. An enormous ship lingered in the middle of the ocean, the black of its hull making the waves lapping at its sides look gray instead of blue.

She’d never been good at judging size from a distance but even from her vantage point she could see that the ship was massive; at least fifty feet high and had a runway on the left most edge where a few aircrafts and helicopters lingered, baking under the late afternoon sun.

Upon closer inspection, she realized there was not one ship but eight, all floating lazily, rocked in part by the ocean’s movements and the breeze. They were all clustered near one another, connected by metal ramps that allowed people to move between one ship and the next. Two of the eight ships were heavily cluttered by aircrafts while the rest bustled with movement and life.

“What is this?”

“What’s left of the United States Navy.” Hector replied. Rachel let that sink in for a moment. How many organized groups of people could there really be out there hoping to bring down the CN? She hoped the answer was a lot.

“How did you replace these people?”

“We didn’t. They found Aaron and I after we escaped the poachers and were trekking through the woods, dehydrated and nearly dead. One of their search and rescue teams found us and brought us in; if it wasn’t for them, we’d be dead right now.”

“But the poachers--how did they miss a giant helicopter flying near their city?” She struggled to understand.

“They have this technology that—hold on, come here, the landing can get a little rough.” She moved towards him. He lifted her with ease and then lowered her between his legs so that her back was pressed to his chest. He wrapped one arm around her waist while he held on to a metal pole above his head with the other. The others braced themselves as well.

The roar of the blades grew louder, the helicopter shuddered as it descended little by little and the entire framework rattled.

“Like I was saying. They have this technology that deflects radar, making them pretty much invisible to the poachers. Never mind the electromagnetic field they have on this baby— “He jerked his thumb outside the window. “That literally makes it look like there’s nothing here but water. Don’t ask me how but it’s pretty damn interesting if you ask me. There’s this guy, Jonas, he was teaching me all about it— ”

The jolt of the landing silenced him and knocked the smile from her face. She dug her nails into his forearm until it was over and the ground seemed steady once more.

“Easy there,” He chuckled while standing up and pulling her with him. She stood on one foot, careful to keep her weight off of her injured heal and used Hector’s forearms for support. “Squeeze any harder and I’m going to need stitches too.”

“I’m sorry, I still can’t get used to this whole flying thing”

He kissed her forehead and swept her up into his arms. Now that they weren’t being shot at she could appreciate the way his strong arms brought a flutter to her stomach. She had to remind herself to ask her more about the ships technology later. Something about the way he'd gushed about it was endearing to her.

Just then the doors flung open and a few men dressed in brown uniforms greeted them. Hector jumped down from the helicopter while two men came and retrieved Tony’s body, weaving him through the crowd on a black stretcher.

“Welcome back.” A man appeared in front of them. He nodded to Hector and then turned to Rachel to clasp her hand in a firm handshake. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m fleet admiral Copenhagen and you must be Rachel.” His face was worn from sun exposure and age, his wrinkles resembling the ridges of a mountain yet somehow he still looked sturdy, like he could take on an entire hoard of poachers single-handedly.

She looked down at the golden cuffs over his black uniform sleeve and then up to the dozens of pins clipped to his suit jacket.

“Yes, uh, it’s nice to meet you.”

He turned towards the man named Robinson as he came up beside them.

“Sir,” Robinson saluted Copenhagen.

“Were you successful?” Copenhagen asked.

“Yes sir, the retrieval was a success.”

Admiral Copenhagen turned to her and Hector as if remembering they were still there. “It was nice to meet you, Rachel. I trust Hector can show you around.” Hector nodded respectfully to Copenhagen and Rachel wondered if she should do the same but by the time she was getting ready to do it, Copenhagen and Robinson were already gone.

“What was that about?” She asked.

“Well, besides being a rescue mission, the trip to the city was also to retrieve a few things that are supposed to be the key to bringing down the CN.”

“Really? Like what?”

“I’m not sure; we swiped this serum from one of the labs and Robinson uploaded some information onto a thumb drive. Other than what I saw, I don’t know much else.”

“Rachel?” Rachel turned to the sound of her name. She tensed up, a cold chill traveling the length of her body from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head.

Ruth emerged from the crowd. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse- but the most disconcerting part of her attire was the lab coat she wore over her shoulder which in its own way only confirmed everything Nicolas had told Rachel about her. Rachel couldn't even feel relief. All this time, she'd wished and hoped her mother was alive and now...she just felt...angry.

She’d never seen her mother look more foreign. Her red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her mouth smeared with a bit of lipstick. The only thing about her that hadn’t changed was the stoic expression she loved to wear on her face.

Taking a few steps forward, she eyed Hector with distaste and came to stand before Rachel.

“Set me down,” Rachel said to him. He did as she asked but kept a good hold on her arms so she wouldn’t fall over.

“I was right,” Ruth whispered. “He didn’t harm you.” She wrapped Rachel up in an awkward hug which felt a lot like hugging a rock. Rachel was so stunned that for a moment she didn’t react—but then the moment passed and she shrugged Ruth off of her.

Ruth pulled away, confusion wrinkling her forehead and cracking her makeup.

Rachel met her eyes, blue staring into deep brown and for the first time in her life, she didn’t cower under her mother’s gaze.

“Jed is dead.” Rachel announced in a lifeless voice. “You and Nicolas killed him.” She walked away from Ruth, ignoring the pain in her foot—she could barely feel it over the pain of saying the words aloud anyway.

“Rachel, wait.” Hector came up behind her.

“Please, just get me out of here.” She didn’t trust her voice to say much else. He nodded and once again swept her up into his arms, leaving behind a stone-faced Ruth.