Ander - Part 6: Subchapter 130
130
This was hell. Layla could barely hear herself think over all the noise. Shouting and screaming. Vicious snarls. Bloodcurdling howls of pain. Animalistic grunts.
The crying of a small child.
She was just outside the medical tent, if you could even call it that anymore. The whole place had been reduced to a state of utter chaos in a matter of minutes. There were rows upon rows of injured Wolves and Foxes spread out on blankets, tarps and sheets, just about anything they could find so they wouldn't have to lie on the rock-hard ground or the melting snow. They really shouldn't be out here at all, but there wasn't enough room anymore. The tent was already filled to bursting with -
"Look out!"
Layla jumped aside just in time to avoid a flaming log. It crashed into the ground in a shower of sparks, right where she was standing mere moments ago, and rolled on for a few strides, shedding red hot coals along the way.
It's been like this for a while now. Bottles, lamps, braziers, barrels, branches, rocks, anything small enough to be thrown were constantly raining down all around them, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The injured didn't have any choice but to pull up their legs and cover their faces as best they could.
And where the hell was Kiana?
Layla looked around, hoping to see her sister somewhere among the rows, maybe splinting a leg or disinfecting a cut, but there was so much going on she could barely make heads or tails of it.
Wolves and Foxes were running back and forth, gesturing and shouting at each other. It felt like everyone that had survived the battle of the pass was here. Some had weapons - knives, hatchets, torches. Some were stamping out the flames that were spreading too close to the medical tent. Their boots were black with ash and dirt.
"Move!"
Someone bumped into her and was gone before she could even get a look at his face. Another nearly crashed into her from behind. She felt so lost, so out of place, so stuck, not unlike that child, crying somewhere in this madhouse, all alone and afraid...
No! She couldn't allow herself to think like that. She was a healer, damn it! Well, a healer in training, but still!
She held her arm up to shield her face from the worst of the biting cold, and began moving in the direction of those heart-breaking cries. Shards of broken glass crunched beneath her shoes, adding one more note to this chaotic melody. Maybe, if she was lucky, she would find Kiana somewhere along the way, and then they could both help out the owner of that voice together.
She still had no idea how any of this started (there were about twenty different stories floating around right now), but from what she could tell, it was a case of violence feeding on violence. A fight broke out somewhere and just spread outward. Maybe it started out as small as a fight over food. Maybe one Wolf said something he shouldn't have or threw a hasty punch. Maybe it was something else, something worse, or maybe it was nothing at all. Maybe the true story would never come out. To be honest, Layla didn't actually give a damn. The only thing that really mattered was this moment right now.
"Get back, you filthy bastards! Have you no shame!?"
"Backrollers! Every last one of you!"
After the fight began to spread beyond control, many fled towards the medical tent, the biggest structure in the basecamp. And of course, the more Wolves and Foxes congregated here, the more visible it became, and the more it attracted those seeking shelter. It was either that or try to find refuge in the woods, and with this blizzard raging on, that was as good as a death sentence.
"Hold the line!"
"Aaargh! My arm! Damn it!"
"Hold the goddamn line!!"
Layla didn't like being this close to the action, but the crying was getting louder. Where was he?
"Get back! Get back!"
A face rose up out of the darkness, a face seemingly made out of nothing but a pair of gaping jaws, and clamped down on Braiko's shoulder. Blood spurted from between the offender's teeth in a red sheet.
"Grargh! Get off me!"
"One of 'em's got Braiko! Quick!"
Three other Wolves came rushing in, but Layla had no idea whether they were friend or foe, sane or insane. It was impossible to tell where the split lay. Fifty fifty? Seventy thirty? Ninety ten? And in which direction? How many Wolves had gone wild and how many were trying to keep everyone safe? How many were rampaging through the camp, and how many were trying to hole up here? How many were fighting? How many were injured? She didn't know!
The others grabbed hold of the crazy biter and tore him off of Braiko's shoulder with a wet squelch.
Like tearing a drumstick off an undercooked chicken, Layla thought in horror as Braiko staggered back, clutching his spewing shoulder.
"Get back in formation, you bastards!" he yelled through gritted teeth. "Don't let them get through!"
One of his friends turned back. "Braiko, are you -"
"I can still fight! You just get back in line, damn it!"
Layla hurried along with her hands over her head, ducking and weaving through crowds of Foxes and Wolves, some of them trying to get closer to the line, others trying to get away from it.
The Wolves, the good ones, the not-wild ones, the not-insane ones, had formed a massive defensive ring around the medical tent while the crazies went on a rampage, tearing through tents and flipping over cooking pots and howling at the sky. Those had been a hectic few minutes. Layla had stood by the tent, watching as Wolves and Foxes alike came streaming in through the gaps, running for their lives, injured and limping, helping each other along. And now, running through this mess of violence and fear, following after the sound of a bawling child, Layla couldn't help but wonder what this place must look like from above. The medical tent in the centre, surrounded by rows and rows of injured Wolves and Foxes, writhing in pain. And then on the outside, this massive ring of clashing bodies like a living wall, keeping everything in place. It must look like a giant, wobbly wheel, or maybe a toddler's drawing of a birthday cake, and why was she thinking of something so stupid when there was a crying child somewhere out here!?
Layla stood still and listened, trying to single out that voice, the braying sobs and hitching breaths. She couldn't tell if it was a Fox or a Wolf, and neither did it matter. It was a kid, for crying out loud. Layla was scared out of her mind, she was worried about her sister, she didn't know what was going to happen in the next hour, or even the next minute, but if there was a little kid out here, then none of that mattered. She was an adult and a healer, and that meant she had a responsibility to that child.
She finally spotted him a few rows towards the centre; a tiny little Wolven boy with dark brown fur, covered in a smattering of frost. He was sitting on a torn piece of burlap, bawling his eyes out with both arms covering his face. There were other Wolves nearby, but they weren't doing anything to help. They weren't even looking at him. A flash of anger began to build up inside of her, but quickly evaporated once she got a bit closer. One had a splinted leg and a heavily bandaged arm. Another had a deep bite wound on his stomach. Yet another had a nasty cut running up his side. But all of those injuries, as painful as they must be, paled in comparison to the horrors their faces had become.
No, there wasn't anything physically wrong with them. Maybe a cut here and a scratch there. Maybe a torn ear or a missing tooth. But she wasn't thinking of physical ailments. It was their sad expressions. It was the crestfallen looks. The deeply troubled, furrowed brows. The gloomy, downcast eyes. The hunched shoulders.
They were all sitting there, ignoring a crying child, because they were too caught up in their own misery. And the worst part of it was she couldn't even blame them.
She was terrified, too.
Layla hurried over, being very careful not to trip over anyone. They looked up at her with those sad faces as she walked by, not saying anything, not doing anything, just looking, as if this was all some terrible dream they were hoping to wake up from.
I have to do something about this.
She crouched down in front of the boy and put on a big smile. "Hey there, little guy, what's wrong?" she asked, marvelling at the fact that he actually was a little guy. So far all the Wolves she had met were much, much bigger than her. Even Renna maybe had an inch or two on her. But this boy really was tiny for a Wolf. Or maybe just very young.
What is he even doing here? she wondered. Why did they think it was a good idea to bring a child to a slaughter?
The seconds dragged by, and it soon became apparent that he wasn't going to answer her, or even look up.
"Are you hurt anywhere?" Layla reached out and lightly touched his arm. He was trembling all over, and every time he tried to breath, his entire body hitched with the effort. "Is it okay if I talk to you for a little bit?"
He shook his head vehemently.
"Aww, why not?"
He shook his head again, hard enough to make his ears flop back and forth.
"Okay, you don't have to talk if you don't want to. But will you at least let me know if you're hurt? I can help you."
He shook his head again, but whether that meant he wasn't hurt, or if he was simply refusing her help flat-out, was difficult to say.
"Hey, can you lower your arms for me?"
He shook his head again.
"I bet you're a real cutie under there, so what do ya say? Let me see that face." She puffed up her cheeks and turned her smile into a massively exaggerated pout. "Pleeeeeeease?"
"You should leave him alone, Fox-Kai," the Wolf with the splinted leg said. "He's having a hard enough time already."
"Yeah, no thanks to you."
The Wolf's eyes widened as if he just got stung by a horsefly. "It is not my place to meddle with another's child, and neither is it yours. He's trying to hide his tears as best he can, and you're just making it difficult."
"Why is he trying to hide his tears?"
The Wolf looked at her as if she had gone crazy. "Because tears are shameful! They're a sign of weakness! To be strong, you have to -"
"Oh you can take that macho crock of bull pies and shove it right up your tail hole."
His mouth dropped open as if on a hinge, but the only sound that came out was a strangled little croak.
Layla turned back to her little buddy and was delighted to see that he had looked up from his arms and was staring at her with a mixture of shock and admiration.
She gasped and clapped her hands together. "There you are! I knew you were a cutie under there!"
He was, too. Even with a runner of snot hanging from each nostril and tears running down his cheeks, he was just about the cutest thing in this entire basecamp, with a giant pair of dark brown eyes. She just wanted to ruffle his hair and hug him and squeeze him all day long, but since that might be a weird, especially considering they were kind of in the middle of a developing war zone, she opted to give him the biggest, shiniest smile she could produce. "Hey there, little guy. My name's Layla. What's yours?"
He sniffed loudly and stared back at her, not saying anything, his shoulders twitching every time a breath got stuck in his throat.
Layla didn't want to force him, so she waited. And then...
"M- My name is... Tio," he said, not quite looking her in the eye.
"Hi, Tio. Now, why don't you tell me what's wrong, and I'll do my very best to fix it for you, okay?"
He shook his head again, but at least this time he didn't try to cover his face.
"So there's nothing wrong?"
He shook his head violently, smearing his runny nose all along his forearm. "N- No! Yuh- You c-can't fix it, nuh-nobody can fi-fix ah-anything!" he wailed, stuttering with every hitching breath. She could see his struggles in the way the mist plumed from his mouth in erratic bursts, keeping time with the heaving of his shoulders.
"Well, we don't know that until you tell me what's wrong."
"It- It-" He couldn't get any further than that. His whole face scrunched up like a wad of paper and a heart-breaking sob tore through his little body.
"Ssh, ssh, it's okay, it's okay..." Layla took him in her arms and gently rocked him back and forth, holding him close.
He resisted her at first, trying to pull away, but he was frightfully weak, and his sobs were so intense they were more like convulsions, practically paralysing him against her side.
As the youngest in her family, Layla had never had occasion to do anything quite like this, but it all came naturally to her. She knew it didn't really matter what she said, just as long as he knew that someone was there, and that it was safe, and that it was warm, so she kept holding him, rocking him, and whispering the nonsensical platitudes she vaguely remembered from when she was very young. Of falling down the porch steps and skinning her knee and getting a big hug from her father, with his rough, callused hands and his breath that stank of pipe weed. It was just about the best hug she could have asked for.
"It's okay... Shh... It's okay..."
He finally gave in and buried his face against her chest, clutching her tightly and sobbing uncontrollably.
"I'm scared..." His voice was muffled against her dress and so choked with tears she could barely understand him. "I'm scared..."
"You don't need to be scared. I've got you. Everything is fine." He shook his head, smearing a healthy dose of snot, tears, and spit against her dress, but she didn't mind. She just kept holding him, rocking him, and caressing the top of his head. A tiny little Wolven boy who had come to murder Foxes, and was now being comforted by one instead. All around them was death and destruction, violence and unimaginable pain, fire and broken glass raining down from the sky, but right here, in this moment, it was as if none of that existed for him, and she was the one doing it.
It made her feel... better.
Tio's breathing was beginning to even out, but she could still feel the warmth of his tears and the trembling of his shoulders.
"I duh- duh- I-"
"Hmm?"
"I don't want to die..." He finally got it out. A little boy, covered in smatterings of frost, crying against her chest, telling her he didn't want to die.
It was wrong. It was so wrong she couldn't stand it.
A blazing chunk of wood smashed into the ground only a few strides away and burst into a shower of red hot burning coals, sending them out in all directions like shrapnel.
Tio screamed and Layla hugged him extra close, shielding him against the sudden barrage. She felt the burning sting of coals striking her back and a tiny whiff of scorched fabric blew past her nose, but it really wasn't that bad. More scary than dangerous.
"I don't want to die!" Tio screamed against her, his breath almost as hot and burning as the coals that were still hissing in the snow. "I want to go home!"
"You will go home, Tio. I promise."
"You can't promise that!"
"Of course I can."
"How!?"
She pulled back from him a little so she could look him in the eye. "Because I know. Look..." She pointed to the line of Wolves, hoping against hope that something scary wouldn't choose that exact moment to pop up. They were all lined up, standing shoulder to shoulder, some of the biggest, burliest Wolves she had ever seen. There were even some Foxes mixed in, bows and arrows at the ready.
"Traitors! Backrollers!" One of the crazies came storming in, materializing out of the shadows like some demented phantom, all teeth and bloody claws.
About five strides from the line, an arrow materialized in his thigh. It just appeared out of nowhere, and he nearly stumbled to the ground, but somehow kept going, lurching along on one leg. Layla considered covering Tio's face, but decided to take a chance. Maybe this was exactly what he needed to see.
The Wolf reached the line, swiping his claws randomly through the air, and was quickly grabbed by three different pairs of Wolven hands.
"Stop this madness, Haijo! What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Haijo snapped back. "They killed us! They murdered us! Why are you protecting them!?"
"Because they saved us, you fool!"
"Nooo!!"
"We're the ones who murdered us! It's our own damn fault everyone is dead!"
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut uuuuuup!!"
Haijo lunged forward, trying to break through the line and get at the Foxes beyond. For just a second, Layla thought he was looking right at her, but before she could be certain, he was forcefully shoved back and fell right on his tail, the arrow still stuck firmly in his thigh, now surrounded by a spreading patch of blood. "Damn backrollers!" he cried, dragging himself backwards through the snow. "You'll pay! The Cora will make you pay!"
Layla turned back to Tio. "You see that? It's a wall made out of Wolves and Foxes, and it stretches aaaaall the way around, so nobody is going to get in. You have my word on it."
Tio sniffed. He seemed to be calming down a little. But then he said something that stopped Layla's heart dead.
"But what about Father?"
Such a simple question. Such a damning question. If his father wasn't here, inside the ring, then that left only two possibilities. Either he was dead and lying underneath a mountain of snow in the pass, or...
"Why are they like this?" Tio asked, just bombarding her with questions she had no means of answering. "We came here to kill Foxes... but now we're killing each other, and I... I'm sorry, Fox-Kai! I'm sorry I came to kill you!"
A fresh bout of tears welled up in his eyes and Layla squeezed him close. "It's okay, Tio. It's okay." The absurdity of this wasn't lost on her. No matter how hard she tried, she simply could not imagine this poor, weeping kid as a potential murderer. But then again, she had no idea what it was really like to be a Wolf. To grow up in a place where you had to hide your tears, no matter what. Where violence and hatred was something to be proud of.
What must it be like for him? Stuck on the wrong side of the mountain, surrounded by creatures he didn't understand, fearing death at the hands of his own people? What must it be like to have your entire world flipped upside down in an instant?
Maybe it was like this for all of them. Maybe they were all just like this child, lost and afraid. Maybe the only difference was that this boy could cry, and they could not.
"Sometimes... bad things happen," Layla began, not exactly sure where she was going. "You can't stop them from happening. It's just part of being alive. Sometimes those things are so bad that they hurt you in ways you've never been hurt before. They hurt you so bad you can't even understand it. Some people try to cope with it by burying their feelings deep, deep down, so it can't hurt them anymore. Some people get sad. Some people get angry. Some people run far, far away, or try to ignore it completely. Some people... lash out at the thing that hurt them, even if it's something that can't be hurt back. They think that, if they can inflict as much pain as they're feeling, then that'll make the pain go away. That it'll make them feel better."
"Like 'eye for an eye'?"
"What's that?"
"It's a law. If someone pokes out your eye, you get to poke theirs out, too."
"Yeah, exactly like that," Layla replied, hoping to the gods that this kid was only talking metaphorically and that Wolves didn't actually go around periodically poking each other's eyes out, but by now she wouldn't be surprised. "But that doesn't fix anything. It only doubles the pain."
"Then what do you do, Fox-Kai?" he asked, looking up at her with those big, dark brown eyes.
"Me?" She looked around and was surprised to see that everyone was looking at her. All the injured Wolves, sitting on their blankets and tarps, with their bandaged heads and arms, with their eyepatches and torn ears, with their splinted legs, with their frostbitten fingers and toes. So many eyes, so many silent stares, all fixed squarely on her.
Layla looked down at Tio, at his questioning little face, and thought to herself: You'd better pull this off. You'd better make it look damn good. "It's easy. All I have to do is smile."
And that's exactly what she did. She put on a smile just for him. Not too big, not too small. Just right. A warm, caring smile.
He looked up at her in complete and total amazement, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, and for a wonder, there wasn't a single tear to be seen. He was even more shocked by her answer than when she told that old curmudgeon to take his views and shove 'em.
Laya seized the opportunity and gave him a good boop on his snotty nose. "Boop!"
Tio blinked, then snorted. It was an actual, honest to goodness snort. Only one layer removed from an actual laugh. And by the gods, was this a hallucination, or was he actually smiling back at her?
He was.
"C'mere you li'l cutie!" Layla hugged him close and squeezed him tight and ruffled his hair, and as he giggled in her arms, she did the exact opposite of what she had told him to do. She took all her fear, all her worries, all her mind-numbing dread and hid them behind her smile.
Her fake smile.
A Wolfess with a bandaged neck looked at their display, and the corner of her mouth twitched into a half-smile of her own. Next to her, an older Wolf with grey fur was slowly shaking his head, but he had a smile growing on his face, too. Even the curmudgeonly Wolf with the splinted leg couldn't keep form smiling at Tio's innocent giggles.
Everyone. Everyone witnessing this was smiling in at her. She was actually doing it. She was making a difference, all with one little smile. She was actually... actually...
She was in so much pain.
She kept smiling and -
It hurts. It hurts to do this.
- hugging Tio close. She was happy. She was truly happy that she could make him laugh, make him forget, even if only for a minute, that he was supposed to be scared and crying, that his father was either dead and buried or out there in the night, crazy with bloodlust, probably trying to claw his way through this flimsy wall of defenders, that they might all be dead before this blizzard broke and the sun shone over the mountain once again.
Oh, Kiana, where are you? Oh please, I've looked for you everywhere and I can't find you...
She kept on smiling, knowing that she couldn't stop, that to stop would be to kill every real smile her fake one had given birth to.
This was her burden to bear and hers alone. It was such a tiny thing. Such an inconsequential thing. It was the least she could do.
Layla's eye drifted towards the medical tent, and that's when she saw him, staring at her with the strangest look in his eye. Almost... accusing.
Danado? Why is he...?
No, it must be the harsh light. All these fires and shadows vying for control. It created an ugly contrast that could turn even the kindest face into a hideous mask of light and dark. Surely Danado would never look at her that way. He promised. He promised to smile for her if things ever looked bad. He promised to smile for her and make her feel better, just like she was doing for all these Wolves right now.
She looked at him, and he looked back, their gazes locked together over an expansive ocean of pain and suffering, and she gave him her best, warmest smile, a smile that said that everything was perfectly fine. That she was perfectly fine. All she needed was for him to smile back. That was all she needed. Just that one little thing. Like he promised beneath that gnarled old oak tree behind Ander's house.
But Danado didn't smile back. He simply stared at her, a small frown on his face, and slowly shook his head.
But why? How could he -
Layla's smile nearly faltered, but she caught it just in time. She patted Tio on the back and kept smiling. She had to keep smiling. Even if it didn't do anything to help herself, it was helping those around her, and that made it her duty to smile, no matter how hard it was.
She _had_to...
There used to be two subchapters before this one (about thirty pages), but I'll talk about them later. Right now I want to talk about Layla and her actions here.
Originally she was delusional as all hell, one step removed from outright madness out of worry for her sister. She was so messed up that she wasn't even seeing what was actually going on around her. You know that part in Bioshock 2 where you get to play as a little sister for a while? Everything is all shiny and pretty and covered in butterflies and rainbows, but you're actually scurrying around the rotting guts of Rapture, harvesting blood from corpses. It was like that. Layla was wandering around in a kind of shellshocked stupor, looking for Kiana, seeing all these horrible acts of violence unfolding all around her but "interpreting" them as something completely different. Wolves tearing each other apart were merely "playing a game" and those lying unconscious on the ground were merely "sleeping". The mental gymnastics she was putting herself through to convince herself that everything was perfectly fine was both impressive and cringe worthy. There was one part where an injured Wolf tried to open her eyes to what was really happening, and she lashed out at him. Reading through that bit later on I couldn't help but slap myself on the forehead. It was so out of character it was unfathomable. Layla would NEVER do anything like that! She is probably the most bubbly, charitable and genuinely nice person out of all my characters, so I ended up rewriting this subchapter into what you see now. She's still worried about Kiana, but that worry is now manifesting itself in a way more suited to her character.
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