A Town Painted Red

Rafe, what in God's name happened here?" Maya's voice, usually so steady, trembled with a barely suppressed fear as her gaze swept over the grim tableau.

Rafe, his expression strangely placid amidst the c*****e, offered a casual wave of his hand. "Why don't you come lend a hand with the cleanup, prima? We can talk later, once the flies aren't quite so… enthusiastic."

His eyes, however, lingered on Veronica and me, sharp and assessing. "And these two? Who are they?"

"Friends of Lucia," Maya replied, her tone clipped, offering no further explanation.

"Ah, Lucia." A flicker of something unreadable crossed Rafe's face. "And… how is she?" He pressed, a subtle probing in his voice, as if testing the waters.

Maya's composure finally cracked, a wave of grief washing over her features. She could only manage a slow, almost imperceptible nod, her gaze drifting towards the blood-stained ground – a silent, devastating confirmation of Lucia's likely fate.

"Ooh… I… carajo, Maya, I'm so sorry." A perfunctory sympathy touched Rafe's lips, though his eyes held a distinct lack of genuine sorrow. It was clear his fondness for Lucia had been… limited. "Anyway," he continued, his tone shifting back to a disconcerting nonchalance, "hope the girls have strong stomachs. There are… well, let's just say body parts and dead folks scattered all over the pueblo."

"Blo…" I began, the horror rising in my throat, but Maya cut me off sharply. "Yeah, they can handle it, Rafe. They're tougher than they look." A protective, almost defiant glint flashed in her eyes.

"Alright then." A hint of something I couldn't quite decipher – perhaps calculation – flickered in Rafe's gaze. "Let's get this mess sorted so I can get you all settled in." He paused, a subtle emphasis on the last word. "Give us a minute, Rafe. We'll be with you shortly," Maya replied, her tone curt, before he turned and walked away.

The moment his back was turned, I voiced the suspicion that had taken root. "I'm not so sure about Rafe, Maya. There's something… off about him." His unsettling calm in the face of such brutality sent shivers down my spine.

Maya's expression hardened. "Good. Don't be too sure about anyone here. This place… they used to sell lone Cogs to a particular Supreme Being for 'protection' and 'provision.' When I found out, my conscience couldn't stomach it, so I left. Things might be different now, but don't let your guard down for a second. Especially when we don't know what happened here." Her voice dropped, becoming low and urgent. "And try to toughen up, mijas. Here, they have a saying: 'There's not enough time to grieve.' Rafe, you see… he's their anatomista, the closest thing they have to a doctor. He's our best shot at finding out what we need to know about your blood. Once we have that information, we're gone." The urgency in her tone underscored the precariousness of our situation. This wasn't a sanctuary; it was a potential stepping stone, a necessary risk.

We followed Rafe towards a group gathered near what looked like the remnants of a marketplace, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the low murmur of distressed voices. "How can we help?" Maya asked, her voice surprisingly steady despite the grim surroundings.

A glint of something akin to eager anticipation flickered in Rafe's eyes. "Excellent!" he exclaimed, his tone almost cheerful in the face of such devastation. "Jo!" he called out, his voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere.

A woman tending to a young boy with a grotesquely twisted leg turned towards us. She was striking, tall with a sculpted figure, likely in her early thirties. But unlike Rafe's unsettlingly calm demeanor, her face was etched with deep lines of worry and exhaustion, her eyes shadowed with recent trauma.

"Rafe," she responded, her voice carrying a clear undertone of displeasure.

Rafe waved a dismissive hand, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Lighten up, Jo. We've got help now."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Rafe," she retorted, her voice tight with exasperation, "but I was rather busy."

"Take the girls with you," Rafe countered smoothly, completely unfazed by her annoyance. "They're here to lend a hand."

With a sigh that spoke volumes of her weariness, Josette offered a small, tight smile towards Veronica and me. "Come with me." We exchanged a quick, wary glance with Maya before following Josette towards the injured boy. His left femur was clearly fractured, the bone jutting out at an unnatural angle. As my gaze met his, I was struck by the startling clarity of his emerald eyes. A strange, unexpected spark ignited within me, a fleeting sensation of something new, a feeling I couldn't quite place but didn't entirely dislike. "Hi," he said, extending his right hand in a gesture of unexpected normalcy amidst the chaos. "I'm Jace."

Lost in the depths of his gaze, I stammered, "I... I'm Em…"

"Nice to meet you, Jace," Veronica interjected smoothly, stepping forward and shaking his hand for me, her quick thinking saving me from potentially revealing too much.

Josette led us towards a makeshift infirmary, a chaotic space filled with the groans and whimpers of injured people, most of whom appeared to be ordinary, unenhanced humans. The scene was grim, a stark testament to the violence that had swept through this place. "What happened here, miss?" Veronica asked, her voice hushed with concern.

"Please," Josette corrected gently, "call me Josette." Her expression clouded over. "And I'd really rather Rafe fill you in on everything." A subtle flicker of distrust, almost imperceptible, crossed her features as she spoke.

The makeshift infirmary, a converted community hall reeking of antiseptic and something vaguely metallic, became our world for the remainder of the day. Under Josette's terse but efficient guidance, and alongside a few other locals whose medical knowledge seemed limited to staunching bleeding and applying rudimentary splints, we immersed ourselves in the grim task of tending to the wounded. I found myself relegated to the periphery, a runner ferrying bandages, fetching lukewarm water, and emptying soiled basins – tasks that kept my hands busy but my mind preoccupied. My gaze, however, kept straying towards the corner where Jace lay, his emerald eyes a startling beacon amidst the muted colors of pain and suffering. An unexpected warmth bloomed in my chest whenever our eyes met, a fragile tendril of something new and unfamiliar reaching out in this desolate landscape. It felt foolish, dangerous even, this sudden, inexplicable connection, like a delicate wildflower daring to unfurl amidst a battlefield.

Veronica, ever vigilant, seemed acutely aware of this burgeoning, ill-timed attraction. Her presence was a subtle but persistent barrier, her tasks often conveniently placing her between Jace and me, her eyes flicking towards me with a silent warning whenever I lingered too long in his vicinity. Her protectiveness, usually a comfort, now felt like a frustrating restraint, a tangible reminder of the precariousness of our situation and the wisdom of Maya's caution against trusting anyone. Yet, the pull towards Jace was insistent, a silent, magnetic force that seemed to bypass all logic and reason.

As the weak light filtering through the dusty windows began to wane, painting the room in hues of bruised twilight, Rafe reappeared, his earlier unsettling cheerfulness replaced by a more serious, almost calculating air. "Girls," he called out, his gaze encompassing both Veronica and me, "come with me. Let me take you to where you'll be staying for the night."

But before we could follow him, Josette intercepted him, her hand a firm grip on his forearm. Her voice, when she spoke, was a low, urgent murmur, her eyes darting towards us with a mixture of concern and suspicion. Rafe listened intently, his own gaze flicking back to us intermittently, a flicker of something unreadable – perhaps calculation, perhaps unease – in their depths. The hushed exchange hung in the air, a tangible cloud of unspoken questions and potential warnings.

We followed Rafe in silence to a small, dilapidated house on the edge of what passed for the town square. Cracks spider-webbed across the sun-baked walls, and the air inside was still and heavy. Maya was already there, a meager supper of what looked like dried beans and hard bread laid out on a wobbly wooden table. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension.

"Maya," Rafe began, his tone carrying the weight of an unfinished conversation, his eyes flicking between Maya and us. "We'll need to talk. Soon. There are… developments." Maya offered a curt nod, her expression unreadable, her gaze fixed on the meager meal. "Okay, bye now, Rafe," she said, her voice flat, laced with a distinct lack of warmth.

The creak of the door closing behind Rafe amplified the silence in the small house. The weight of the day, the horror of the infirmary, the burgeoning, forbidden feelings within me, and the palpable distrust hanging in the air coalesced into a knot of apprehension. My eyes met Maya's, a silent plea for understanding.

The meager supper on the rickety table began in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts – mine a confusing swirl of emerald eyes and a forbidden curiosity, Veronica's a tight knot of suspicion, and Maya's a weary pragmatism. It was Veronica who finally broke the quiet. "How long are we planning on staying here?" Her tone held a note of impatience. Personally, a selfish part of me hoped our stay would be extended, offering a chance to unravel the strange pull I felt towards Jace.

Maya sighed, her gaze distant. "We might be here for a while. Rafe isn't proving to be… easily swayed."

"I knew it," Veronica muttered under her breath, earning a look of weary exhaustion from Maya. "But it's fine," Veronica added quickly, attempting to soften her impatience, "as long as we get what we came for."

Maya nodded slowly. "The attack… from what I gathered, most of the dead victims were lone Cogs. That points to a Supreme Being. Which means," her voice dropped, a note of urgency creeping in, "it wouldn't be wise to linger here any longer than absolutely necessary. If Rafe proves too stubborn, we might need to find… alternative methods."

"I wonder what Josette said to him," I blurted out, the question hanging in the air.

"Who?" Maya asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Josette," Veronica clarified, "the woman we were working with in the infirmary."

Maya's gaze sharpened, her weariness momentarily forgotten. "Did either of you do or say anything that might have raised suspicion? Anything at all?" Her tone, while not overtly accusatory, held a distinct edge of concern.

"No, we swear," Veronica replied quickly, meeting Maya's gaze directly.

"Then it's probably nothing that directly concerns you," Maya said, a sliver of tension easing from her shoulders.

"No," I insisted, a persistent unease settling in my stomach. "It was definitely about us. I could feel it in the way they were looking."

Maya considered this for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Well, whatever it was, we'll try to find out. I'll attempt to speak with Rafe again tomorrow. In the meantime, both of you will return to the infirmary. Try to get close to Josette, see if you can glean any information about what she knows or suspects. But be careful. Very careful. My gut is telling me we have less than a week here before things take a turn for the worse." The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air, a silent countdown to an unknown danger.