Someone's Knockin' at the Door 3/?
Title: Someone's Knockin' at the Door
Author/Artist: cptmalreynolds
joss100 72 Flat 53/100
writers_muses 48.2. E."No one need think that the world can be ruled without blood. The civil sword shall and must be red and bloody. "- Martin Luther
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 314
Setting: After the Battle of Serenity
Continued from 1, 2
Whimpering cries of the wounded echoed off the confining walls of the Alliance ship’s cargo bay. Racks of beds were stacked against the wall, each filled with one of the few survivors of the Battle of Serenity Valley. There weren’t all that many beds. The rest of us, the able of body if not mind were given thin bed rolls to spread on the cold metal plating.
“It is a mite better’n that cave,” I told Zoë who was staring into the distance. Her dark eyes seemed to be focusing on something only she could see. I hated to think that being taken prisoner had broken her spirit. If I lost Zoë, I’d be a goner. She was really all I had left. “Least the floor is flat.”
“They’re trying to decide what to do with us.” Her fingers were wrapped so tight that a few of the scratches there had started to seep with blood again. “Most of them want to open the bay doors and let the Black have us.”
“Might not be a bad thing that.” I leaned back onto my elbows. Every muscle in my body hurt, my legs especially from the forced march they’d driven us on to get us onboard. My lower back was a mess of bruises most of them fresh from the Purple Bellies using me as their punching bag for daring to lead these men and women in our losing battle for independence. “The Black’s the only place left where a man can be free now Zoë. Ain’t no place left where you can breathe air that’s not tainted by some rich man’s farts.”
Her shoulders shook as she snickered. “Sir, you keep talking like that, and they’re going to space you good and proper.”
“Don’t worry Zoë,” I assured her knowing damned well I was lying. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”
Author/Artist: cptmalreynolds
joss100 72 Flat 53/100
writers_muses 48.2. E."No one need think that the world can be ruled without blood. The civil sword shall and must be red and bloody. "- Martin Luther
Rating: PG 13
Word Count: 314
Setting: After the Battle of Serenity
Continued from 1, 2
Whimpering cries of the wounded echoed off the confining walls of the Alliance ship’s cargo bay. Racks of beds were stacked against the wall, each filled with one of the few survivors of the Battle of Serenity Valley. There weren’t all that many beds. The rest of us, the able of body if not mind were given thin bed rolls to spread on the cold metal plating.
“It is a mite better’n that cave,” I told Zoë who was staring into the distance. Her dark eyes seemed to be focusing on something only she could see. I hated to think that being taken prisoner had broken her spirit. If I lost Zoë, I’d be a goner. She was really all I had left. “Least the floor is flat.”
“They’re trying to decide what to do with us.” Her fingers were wrapped so tight that a few of the scratches there had started to seep with blood again. “Most of them want to open the bay doors and let the Black have us.”
“Might not be a bad thing that.” I leaned back onto my elbows. Every muscle in my body hurt, my legs especially from the forced march they’d driven us on to get us onboard. My lower back was a mess of bruises most of them fresh from the Purple Bellies using me as their punching bag for daring to lead these men and women in our losing battle for independence. “The Black’s the only place left where a man can be free now Zoë. Ain’t no place left where you can breathe air that’s not tainted by some rich man’s farts.”
Her shoulders shook as she snickered. “Sir, you keep talking like that, and they’re going to space you good and proper.”
“Don’t worry Zoë,” I assured her knowing damned well I was lying. “I know when to keep my mouth shut.”