My Valkyrie- Ch. 2

James drew out the pistol, and leveled it at her forehead.  Her movements and protests ceased as her eyes narrowed.  For a moment, each merely stared.  He nodded to his imprisoned right arm.  Hesitating briefly, she reluctantly loosened her grip, raising her open palms as she shifted some weight off of him.  Seizing the opportunity, James quickly scooted out from under her before she should change her mind.  Quickly putting enough distance between them as to be out of her reach- although not so fast as to have the barrel pointed away from her head- his aching lungs reminded him to expel his breath and inhale deeply.  Scowling at his relief, the centaur settled herself in a huff.

Lowering the weapon, he turned his attention to the reclaimed pack, intent on finding something to settle the burn in the back of his throat.  His probing hand quickly fell upon the familiar canteen, and never had he been so excited for a swig of musty water.  Hurriedly uncovering the opening, he pressed the neck of the bottle to his lips.  Damn delicious.  While he could probably expect to have an easy enough time finding more water on the battlefield, it would probably be better not to down more than half of it now, however.  He reluctantly returned the cap to its fixed position.  Time for a look around.

Rolling over for the first time, he propped himself on a knee.  Definitely had less energy than he would like, but being alive was certainly more than fair, so he held his complaints.  Lifting himself, it was a struggle just to maintain his own balance while putting forth the energy required to get off the ground.  Regaining his composure, he gazed about the battlefield.

Human and monster corpses alike littered the fields.  He in particular was surrounded by a mess of centaurs and humans, many of whom appeared to be locked in a position similar to his own.  A shout out to any survivors didn’t yield any response.  Looking on, he saw the position formerly occupied by the dreaded phalanx of larger demons.  Huge horned women lay sprawled across the ground, entwined with far greater numbers of his fellow soldiers.   Whereas the men near him all had gunshot wounds or were stabbed or skewered by some weapon from a centaur, the corpses over yonder were far more grisly.  Judging by the positions, it looked like once their formation was broken, the monsters simply tore into the men with their fists.  Halves of men, arms and legs, all sorts of blood and guts were strewn about.

James had to look down for a minute and suppress the urge to toss up what little gastric acid could be found within his stomach.  At least he figured one thing out.  The humans had definitely won.  But it had cost them, big time.  He didn’t have the clearest memories or ideas of what the numbers of the groups were like, but there certainly weren’t enough corpses of his own kind strewn about for there to have been a defeat.  And the numbers of monsters seemed to add up, from what he could tell.

His morbid curiosity led him to examine some corpses a bit closer.  His centaur friend seemed to be busy enough trying to stay conscious at this point, so he didn’t let her concern his thoughts for the time being.  Approaching the corpse of one of her kind, he saw she had multiple bullet wounds through her human half.  James once again had to suppress an urge to wretch on the spot.  After seeing guts spilling out of various animals on the farms, he’d assumed he’d have the stomach for this.  There honestly wasn’t that much more blood and gore than he was used to seeing on an everyday basis.  But the sight of this battlefield was just… Disgusting.  Abhorrent.
His growling stomach brought his attention back to his pack.  He dug out a can of biscuits.  These he was a little less excited to see one more damn time, but what little excitement he had was still one hell of a lot better than nothing.  Sitting down for a munch, he looked at his attacker.  Her eyes were closed now, as she held herself as upright as she could, clasping her wound and breathing softly.  Blood caked into her coat and hands, and he could tell the recent activity had agitated the wound further.  Staring at her for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.  Unreasonable as it may be, he knew her life was ticking away, because of his actions.

“… God dammit.  I’m gonna kick myself for this later.”

She looked up, seemingly annoyed at the noises he made in her direction.  Sighing, James slowly approached her.  She leaned back apprehensively, glaring at him yet more sharply.  He extended his good arm, offering her the canteen.  She stared for a moment, out of disbelief or distrust he wasn’t sure.  Probably both, honestly.  James couldn’t believe his actions himself, but somehow it felt right.  Probably wouldn’t when he was jailed for treason later, but for now he was feeling wistful and indulgent.
After a few awkward seconds, she quickly reached out and snagged the canteen.  Uncapping it and peering into it’s depths, she inspected it closely.

“I literally just drank from that, seriously?”

He knew she didn’t understand him, but felt like voicing his complaint anyway. The nice sarcastic tone and inflection seemed to carry some effect, at least, as she snorted and began to gulp ravenously.  In a few short moments the canteen was empty.  And she dropped it to the ground.  Huffing, she folded her arms and gave him a stare.  While certainly still filled with malice and distrust, he could definitely detect a new feeling: curiosity.

Couldn’t blame her for that one, anyway.  Maybe his head got hit harder than he thought.

He let his eyes stray to the wound, remembering the sight of her charging into his bayonet.  The fear he felt in that moment combined with the knowledge that she’d love to do worse to him did absolve him of most of his guilt, but there was still something there.  Some inkling that this whole situation was just fucked up.

“I guess I just don’t like killing people.  Ah, to hell with it.  I’ve already gone this far, might as well brand myself a traitor to the cause entirely…”

The look on her face really drove home the point that he was acting like a lunatic, mumbling in English at this wounded enemy of his.
He tossed her the can of biscuits as well and rummaged once more into the pack.  Pulling out his first aid kit, he took stock of the contents.  Some gauze and bandages seemed to be the only relevant tools.  He’d have to construct a sling for his right arm as well.  That would be easier, just use the scissors and cut up some soldier’s uniform a bit.  Although the thought of handling one of these corpses did no favors to his nausea.

Looking up, he saw her hungrily devouring his offering.  Noticing his eyes upon her, she gulped down the contents of her mouth and looked back, notably less angry now.  Still not exactly a face he could call friendly though.

James held up the first aid pack, and then gestured to her wound.  A little awkward with only one good arm, but she seemed to get the message.  Reluctantly, she exposed the snapped bayonet from behind her hand.  Scooting forward to get a closer look, James peered down at her flesh.

It had definitely penetrated rather deep into her, but from his knowledge of horse anatomy, her organs should all be fine.  That leg probably wouldn’t be doing much work any time soon, but the only real dangers to her life should be blood loss and infection.  Looking about, the total blood lost so far didn’t actually seem half bad either, especially for a creature her size.  He should be able to patch her up pretty well, honestly.

Ideally, he’d like to leave the bayonet in place, wrapping the gauze around it as they made way to a better medical situation with more resources.  As that wasn’t exactly an option, he’d have to set about removing it.  Cleaning around it as best he could, it was time for the real dirty work.  Laying a hand on the snapped end, he looked her in the eye and tried to give an earnest expression.  Considering she had let him get this close, James was reasonably sure she understood his intentions, but this was going to hurt.  Looking her in the eyes, he gestured downwards.  She nodded, clenching her teeth.

Well, at least she knew what was going on.

Pulling with enough force to dislodge the object while remaining gentle on the surrounding flesh was rather difficult, but doable.  She tensed and grunted a bit as he worked through the worst of it, and eventually the blade slid clean out.  It was stuck maybe seven inches into her, less than he was afraid of.  Quickly applying pressure to stem the blood flow, he applied bandages and gauze.

Satisfied, he stepped back to survey the work.  It seemed to be on as well as it was going to be, and while she was now reeling from some pain, she should be a lot better off.  Still wasn’t going to be walking around just yet, though.  Her eyes remained closed and she breathed deeply, clutching her stomach.  Considering the lack of anesthetic, he was surprised she never cried out.  A tough enemy, indeed.

James made his way to his feet once more and turned his attention back to the battlefield.  As unbecoming as it was, he’d have to do some scavenging if either of them was to survive.  He set about probing through the packs of the men, leaving those of other races alone.   If he was going to get personal with a corpse, it might as well be a more familiar one.

By the end of his little mission he’d assembled a nice bag filled with nothing but necessities; plenty of food and water to go around, more medical supplies, and he decided to hold on to two side arms with some boxes of ammunition.  He fashioned a sling out of the cleanest shirt he could find on a man, feeling particularly guilty about that one, he left the one box of cigarettes lying on his torso in exchange.  Seemed like a fair deal to him, anyway.

Tugging the newly stuffed pack back to the centaur, he saw the sun setting on the horizon.

For the first day since being drafted, James actually felt kind of good.

For the first time in a long while, he felt productive again.