Chapter 8 - Drunk on Juice

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Charlotte awoke to gloom once more. It seemed the tent she was in was perpetually gloomy as the leather was so thick it simply did not let in the sun. She could see light peeking in here and there along the seams. But that was it. She didn't know how much time had passed but she felt rested so she figured it had been at least twelve hours. She also had to pee so badly her kidneys were aching which was normal after a battle in a bio-mech suit.

She sat up and swallowed thickly. Her body ached all over but not as badly as it had the day before. Even her wrist didn't throb as hard, which was a surprise. She'd had a broken bone before. Something that Uu'k'asht doctor was doing to her was making her heal faster than humanly possible. She wasn't opposed to that but she did wonder why they were bothering to heal and clothe her. What was their game?

With a sigh, she looked up at the chain that connected her neck to the thick tent pole. It was just hung on a hook, but that hook was about ten feet and some change up and she knew she couldn't reach it even before she stood up and reached for it on her tippy toes. She was two inches shy.

Standing there in the gloom, she looked around the tent and spotted the Uu'k'asht in bed. She did a double take. All four of them were in bed. Together. Ahnekk, Echnar, Shodara and the doctor. All laying in a tangle of long, muscled limbs the color of stone.

Wow, she thought, I slept through one hell of a party. Thank god.

Scanning the rest of the tent, she spotted the table piled with pitchers and platters of food and her stomach rumbled. Then she spotted the fifth Uu'k'asht. Asleep alone on a pallet away from the others and wondered what he did to be put in orgy time-out. She noticed the weapons rack and several chests, as well as a large, clay pot with a lid that was in a corner with a curtain that looked like it could be pulled for privacy.

Bingo, she thought. Now she just had to get there.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed and looked down to take note of what she had right around her.

The furrs she'd been sleeping beneath might give her an extra few inches if she rolled them up and stood on them...

Lowering herself slowly so as not to rattle the chain, she quickly rolled up the furrs, then stood on them and reached...

She barely got a hold of the cuff with her fingertips and, gritting her teeth, slid it up and over the hook.

Dropping to her haunches, she held still, eyes glancing between the two pallets. No one moved.

Her brain tried to tell her to do several things simultaneously and she had to sift through her options. Did she attempt to escape? No. She was in the middle of a war camp. She'd seen how large it was. She wouldn't get ten feet away from this tent and her hands were still fucked up so she couldn't fight. Did she go for the weapons rack and take a hostage? No, she'd seen the Uu'k'asht kill each other for small slights, they wouldn't care if she took a hostage. And besides, how well could she control a hostage with her hands as messed up as they were? She could just attack them and kill as many as she could before they killed her, but... she thought of the doctor with his kind eyes, the female who seemed oddly protective of her. So far, she hadn't been mistreated, other than having all her implants cut out, of course. Even so, they could have been horrible and did that while she was awake. But they'd put her out, which was the humane thing to do.

Her bladder finally made the decision for her. She unrolled the furs so they wouldn't know how she'd escaped if they caught her, then bundled the chain up, holding it against her chest as she made her way to the large, clay pot. Getting the lid off while juggling the chain with sore, bandaged hands gave her anxiety and made her sweat but she finally did it and was greeted with the sour smell of piss.

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