Chapter 9 - A World Left to Die

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Eager to get out of the line of sight of the camp, Violina took a march's pace along the mountainside. The sun was just beginning to rise, sending its radiant orange beams through the smoke. Bitter cold evaporated as scorching daylight returned.

There was no doubt left in her mind that the scouting party stood no chance. Half of them needed to be carried, and the other half certainly didn't have the strength to do so. Even hauling Lux alone, who was light and slender, was challenge enough.

Trudging across radiated earth, Violina knew that death loomed over her. The mere thought of non-existence was mind-blowing. If at any point she were to cease existing, then everything in the universe that had ever happened, or ever would happen, did not matter. She fought for survival, but what would that accomplish? Even if she were able to prolong her life another million years, it would not suffice if all that awaited her was infinite non-existence. Immortality was an essential ingredient of purpose. Yet the Separatists obviously didn't believe that death equated with non-existence, but how could they know that outside of wild speculation?

Navigating through the labyrinth of cliffs and gullies, Violina would have killed for a wheelbarrow. In fact, while she was wishing, she would have killed for a QX-Steamer 2450 with fans and a spot to hold her canteen, which instead of the salty and metallic water, would be filled with refreshing peach-mango juice.

Violina set Lux down to get herself a drink from her canister. She intended to lay her gently, but being unconscious, Lux less than gracefully flopped out of Violina's arms as if she were performing a remarkable dead fish impression. Violina looked around sheepishly for a few seconds, then shrugged to herself. Luckily no one, especially Lux, would be able to make fun of her for that later.

Fighting to catch her breath, she opened her map. To reach the refuge, she would need to head north for several miles then cut off into what was labeled "PLEASANT GROVE". No doubt it had been torched like all the other woodland remains she had seen. Her mind wondered at this. Where did the refugees and the Separatists get their food from anyway? She had seen no wildlife—plant or animal—in this God-forsaken era, though she hoped to find out soon as her stomach was preparing to remind her of its upcoming demands.

Violina folded up the map and replaced it in her pack. "Okay, your turn to carry me," she said to the mass of gelatin on the ground named Lux who returned nothing that could be discerned as a response. "Yeah I figured as much—so lazy."

She went to pick up Lux once more, but then noticed her twitch. "Lux! Wake up!" she shouted. If only she could spare some water to drench her face.

Eyes still closed, Lux lifted both eyebrows as if exerting effort to regain consciousness. Violina had not rehearsed what she would tell Lux when she woke up. She resisted the temptation to make up some story about Separatists raiding the camp knocking everybody out while Violina had managed to heroically save Lux's life and escape.

Lux finally opened her eyes but reverted to a narrow squint—a natural reflex from the stinging pain brought on by toxic winds. "What happened?" she asked softly through her gas mask.

Violina tried to ease what would undoubtedly be a tense conversation. "You know, just our usual—fighting for survival while being involved in the deaths of those around us across a wide array of time and space."

"The scouting party..." Lux's voice was saturated with concern. "Did we abandon them?"

"No." Violina wanted to be clear. "I abandoned them. You didn't get to have a say in it."

Lux narrowed her eyes but said nothing. After a long and awkward pause, she nodded as if she understood.

"Here, let's get you to your feet." Violina took hold of Lux's hand.

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