(21) Death at the Capital

The hours flew by faster than the insane speed of John's bike. Soon, three more days had passed us by as unremarkably as the foiliage, except it meant that the food supply at the capital was dwindling quickly. We never spoke of the mission or the plan of attack. When I had broached the subject, John had been unwilling to talk about it so I didn't push the issue. Mostly it felt as though he was savoring each moment with me. Unwilling to allow a moment to slip by without taking full advantage of it. We learned so much about each other in those few hours when our feet were on the ground between bike rides and much needed sleep.

Dawn of the fourth day, there was a change in John's expression. There was a hard line in place of his mouth and two ice chips where his eyes used to be. I felt his body stiffen as I held it in my arms on the bike. I knew--I could read him well at this point--that something was wrong, and I could infer that we must be nearing the capital. The high speed slowed and soon we reached a halt right behind a large tree. He parked it and dismounted before turning to face me. His eyes were hard and he looked at me with a calculating expression.

"I probably shouldn't have brought you along. This will be dangerous, and it was selfish of me to bring you out here so unprotected. But I need you, and more than that, more than needing help, I wanted to be with you. I can't stand it when we are apart."  

He needed me here. More that that, he wants to spend time with me. Little old nobody me. He made me feel special. I wanted to do my best to prove to him that i could be useful. He looked at me and pulled out a holographic map, with the touch of a button, a schematic of the capital popped up including the best intel on the Beasts' army.

"The bike can get us within 5 miles of the city, then it's foot work. We should reach the city by nightfall. Then, we just have to find a way through the army, over the 20' wall which the Beasts will be guarding, through the barricades and find our way through this maze of fallen debris to the capital and not die."

I blinked, "Sounds like a plan." I said, with a slight smile. John was a "think on your feet kind of guy"I respected his ability to do that, I was a planner, but he was the professional at this. I would defer to his plans or lack thereof.

We rode in just like he said, by nightfall, the outer camp of the Beasts was in sight. John backed up against a tree with his ray gun held up to his face at a vertical angle. He looked like a rouge hero. I liked that. We peaked around the tree and saw the eerie orange glow of the camp. I really hate orange. I looked up at the treetops and saw that they went right up to the wall. An idea took shape in my mind. I looked at John and relayed my thoughts. A devious smile broke his face and he said in a hushed tone,

"I knew I wouldn't regret bringing you along."
I scaled the tree and John followed me. When we reached the top John wrapped his arms around my waist and we leapt into the air, my ability to fly kept us in the air at that height long enough to get to the next tree. Silently we tree-hopped to the wall. As we floated down on the inside of the wall we kept our eyes open and sharp for any beast activity.

When our feet hit the ground our noses were overwhelmed with the rank smell of death and decomposing bodies.
A large mound of them rose up before us.
I buried my face in John's shoulder as memories of the tomb assaulted me.