Operational Hazards | Day 2 | Hunters v. Construction Squad

It's easier when she's flying.

And it shouldn't be, she knows — but she took to the jet pack like a natural, only crashing once while practicing. The bruise on her shoulder hurts no worse than the wound on her stomach; it doesn't stop her from trying again. She spins in the air, legs shaking, and then she understands. She's in control.

This is different than floating — and it's nothing like walking on the ceiling. She shivers at the memory, when they had found this place. They stepped over broken lights and archways, staring up to see a field of grass in the sky. Fayre didn't like that. The upside down houses were just as unsettling, and the piles of discarded belongings reminded her that she didn't belong.

'People lived here,'

she had thought to herself.

'How do you just disappear?'

It's easier when she's flying.

Because she doesn't have to think. She doesn't have to wonder about the why, and the how, and the who. All she has to do is search, to find anything essential and report back to Harper. She doesn't mind following orders. Honestly, she prefers it. She's not sure if she'd know what to do if she were alone.

"Harper, I think—" but then the voice comes, and it drowns her out. "Attention: Construction bots are working to make your home as good as new!" It's not until then that she notices the crowd of robots beneath her, advancing on her alliance. She looks back to the one that is speaking.

"-p-p-please e-e-xit t-t-t-h-eeee-"

"Uh," she starts, moving back to the ground. "That doesn't sound good." It continues to glitch, its words fading in and out of human understanding — and then there is a click. The army moves forward, lights flashing red; and the Hunters of Artemis are obviously not wanted here.

"We need to—" but once again she's interrupted, a robot slamming itself against her leg. She is thrown off balance, landing on her side. "Fuck!" Her allies are facing their own struggles, pushed and shoved and attacked by the little soldiers. "They don't want company, huh?"

Her bone is broken, that much she realizes — but she still pulls herself to her feet with a grunt, extending an arm and activating the weapon that she had been sponsored. It comes to life with a whir, glaring purple. "Neither do we." It's her attempt at being a badass like Eos, like Harper, but she's hardly threatening.

She's okay with that.

Let her sword do the talking.

She'd waited until she couldn't take it anymore. She'd waited until Ike was gone, and the silence was hypnotic. They were all animals in cages; the ones above her finally gave up on watching her and took their rest; Harper was left to remember the stars, and how many there were in the sky, and how she might just never see them again. She made it seem like she was wearing her night vision goggles as a way of seeing any potential threats more easily; it was actually to hide the tears.

She forced them into silence, pooling up and spilling over the corners of her eyes, dripping down her chin before any of the cameras would know any better.

She was never a star.

Impending death was a lot to juggle when someone was as fatigued as Harper Levesque. She'd won the bloodbath, sure, but she hadn't been the one to kill. That was Eos. And they all followed her, sure, but it was Elite and Fayre who kept receiving deliveries of sponsorship. Her allies respected her, but they were the only ones. Even the girl from Seven, whatever her name was, had the gumption to say something about her on the texting app. I'd love to see her do something in person, Harper thought, remembering fondly how satisfying the sound of the other girl's rib snapping under Harper's knee had sounded.

Her watch said it was nearly 2 am. That put her getting a solid four hours in before the other tributes would start waking up and moving. With a sigh, she forced her body into a slow lumber, stopping when she reached Fayre. "Ten," she said, wiping at her eyes, "Time's up. My turn. Move over."

---

In her dream, she was six again, and she was in the pet store on the boardwalk. She walked hand-in-hand with her mother, whose skin was pink from a day spent in the sun. Harper was covered in blue ice-cream, drying into a sticky mess on her face. Not a dream. A memory. One of those she had forgotten she remembered. Yes, she remembered her brother trying to pet that bird. The bird would snap at his finger and he'd pull it away just in time; Harper would laugh at him. And the man standing behind the corner would raise an unimpressed eyebrow, though Harper still wasn't sure if it was meant for her brother or for the bird. And any second, yes, there. A dog. Or, what would become a dog some day. The tiny little thing that came lumbering up to her couldn't have weighed more than three pounds. She remembered thinking he looked like a teddy bear that had come to life. She picked him up and he started licking at the ice cream on her face.

She smiled.

And when she woke up, it was not the puppy licking her face. But there was... something. Whatever it was made a buzzing sound and tasted like rubber. Her eyes shot open and there sat a tiny robot, yellow eyes blinking on and off at her.

"What the—?"

It stood at about a foot tall, slate gray with a single, wheeled leg. Its head was bigger than its body in width, and it wore a flashing red light like a hat. The only purpose of its tiny, stubby arms, was to hold the squeegee-like tool that was currently folded in front of it with a strand of Harper's hair rolled into it. On its stomach, words were stamped with clean, bold black letters.

"Microbe Obliterator?"

"Mo," it said, sticking the squeegee in her hand and giving it a shake. It made a move to start cleaning her, which, she realized, is what the thing had been trying to do when it woke her up, and she pushed it away.

"No! I'm clean. Thank you. Stop. No, stop!"

It looked quite sad for a moment, and then it spun around on its axis and disappeared.

---

"Found one that works," she said, swiping her watch over the keypad in front of a door to make it open. She sipped on the water in her thermos, forcing herself not to take as much as she wanted. Once the others were in tow, she carried on. The door slid closed behind them and she forced herself to drink in what was waiting for them on the other side.

Some houses had crashed to the ground, completely upside down. A few still hung in the air far, far above her heads, and most of the ones that crashed were now reduced to little more than splinters and forgotten memories. It looked catastrophic; she remembered being little and seeing something about the annual memorial for an earthquake that had devastated District One. The damages here were eerily similar.

She whistled, hands coming to her hips.

"Bet there's some treasures just waiting to be discovered this place."

She kicked at boards, turning up bricks in search of something useful. In truth, she wasn't sure what she was looking for. If there was any food left out in the open, it would've likely been spoiled and if it wasn't, the creatures who had escaped the lab would've done away with it by now. They needed to check in one of the houses still mostly intact if they were going to find anything of use.

"Harper, I think—" Fayre said, pausing in the exact moment Harper heard something like the whir of a machine.

"Great," she said, grabbing her gun and readying her shield. They swarmed, climbing walls and purring in voices like the one that summoned her to her private training session. Most were covered in dust and insulation, some had screws and nails stuck to magnetic pouches on their sides. There was even one that seemed to have a hammer half-stuck in its leg.

"I wonder," she offered, trigger finger growing twitchy, "If their being here means there's something worth finding inside."

He eyes darted around, looking at these bots. Watching the wires and sparks fall out of them as they fell down motionless to the floor. He tried talking to them through the watch, but nothing came from his attempts. What a shame. He wasn’t the one in this group for pure violence - that would just be a waste. He glanced towards the bots speeding around the four of them, six dwindling down to three in a moment. Such a waste of the small things, being blasted apart into components.

He sighed, and pointed his blaster at the robot at his feet.

Peace.

She had found it briefly while she dozed off, while they walked to their next destination, while she was lost in thought.

But it never lasted long.

The whirring of the metal, the sound of the laser blasters firing. Grunts of pain and the robots shutting down as they were faced with a killing blow. This was only the beginning. Tomorrow would hold much worse. There would never be peace here.

No matter how bad she wished for it.

She watched in awe as the robot that was made her target shut down in front of her. It gave off one last dying groan as it gave a final effort to attack her again before finally shutting off. A smile played on her lips. Maybe she was a better shot then she realized.

Maybe, she wasn't as much of a failure as she always thought.

Eos couldn't help but laugh as Fayre became tongue-tied. The girl was sweet, she was innocent, and she wasn't meant to be here.

Just like Eos.

The two of them were lucky. Lucky that they were picked up by the pair of Fours, lucky that they didn't kill them. Lucky that they had each other. She was always used to being alone, but finally she was able to admit to herself that she needed somebody, especially here.

And maybe Fayre did too.

"Oh you could have dealt with them by yourself. I just wanted all the glory," she gave her a little wink as she checked their backside, making sure none came up in the rear. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as Harper took down another. "Nice shot Harper! Knew I learned from the best." She hated to admit it, but she wouldn't be nearly as good without her. She wouldn't have been able to kill that girl, she probably wouldn't be alive.

But part of her also knew Harper would become her demise.

She shook her head to get rid of the thought. It was too early for that, and there were more important matters standing right in front of them. But part of her brain couldn't help but come back to the thought. What if.

"If there's something good in their Four, I want it. I'll race ya to it." And without thinking she took another shot, hoping that it met its mark. She wanted whatever these bots were protecting, but secretly hoped that once they were gone they would have another moment of silence, another moment of peace.

She didn't mind how short it would be.

She just needed to breath.