Thread: In the Eve (Mr. M & Cpl. Bunny)

Bando scampered behind Bess as they left the doctor's house. He was still playing the child, but he had every sense heightened, although he wished he hadn't. Ash and smoke hung in the air, almost but not quite masking the stink of blood and entrails and the rotting flesh of the vicious cannibalistic monsters. Blood pooled in many places on the village grounds, trickling like rainwater. The screams of the wounded and the grunting of the invading creatures filled the air, but scattered. Every dead face, every anguished scream, was familiar. These were his village, his extended family and neighbors and fellow tribesmates. He tried not to stare as they stole through the village, avoiding the light from the flames and any source of noise. There was nothing he could do for the wounded, at this point anyone who would have benefited from his troublemaking had already escaped. Now it was up to them to reach the rally point. The Warehouse was a communal storage building. It was built on high ground, on the crest of a collapsed-skyscraper-turned-ridge, was sheltered by a couple of broad-trunked speading jungle banyan trees, and was the usual meeting place in times of crisis, because it was defensible, it had supplies, and there was an escape route worming through the collapsed structure of its foundation ridge. On the way through the village, Bando almost despaired of finding anyone at the warehouse from the number of screams and the volume of bodies, he thought that most of the village must have been killed. There were only a couple of dozen households in the place, anyway. Whoever these monsters were, whatever they were, they had struck without warning, without mercy, and without reason. No wonder the whole place was devastated. Thankfully, others had made it to the Warehouse. Sadly, there were precious few. Henry, the most muscular hunter in the village, let them through the heavy door, and Bando looked around at who was inside. A few hunters, Arthur the Chief of the village, Wynn the Head Scholar of the village and the priestess for the village's spiritual observances, a few others. Bando looked around for his parents, his brother, or Corya, the book-printer's daughter, but he couldn't find any of them, and it wasn't as if anyone was hiding. He had the impulse to go out and look for them, any of them, and he even turned to leave, now that Bess was safe, but Henry caught his eye, and as if reading his mind, shook his massive head. Bando understood the situation was too dangerous, nobody was being allowed out again. As temporarily mad as she may have been, Bess was still the village doctor. Bando tugged on her sleeve. Mommy, are there people hurt? You should go help them, now that we're safe. Bando hated to lie to his friend, pretend to be her beloved Andrew, but he realized it must be easier on her, right now, to believe that. So he kept to the role, as best he could. I'll be fine, Mommy. He glanced around, Arthur and Wynn were talking, and although he wasn't the finest in the village, he was the only scout he saw in the place. They could probably use him, if he could volunteer himself. And unlike Bess, he didn't have the luxury of insanity to cope with the almost certain loss that threatened to overwhelm him if he gave himself an opportunity to think about it. So, clearly, he had to keep busy.