It didn't take long for Vera to loose any sense of time. It felt to her like an eternity anyway.
Well, she apparently had found a place to sleep, but this was far from anything she had imagined or wished for. On the contrary, all her nightmares about sleeping outside her home seemed to come true at this moment. Sitting on the filthy ground beneath an old tree, with her hands and feet bound, in sight of three very suspicious and unfriendly persons. One of them being not quite sane, one of them in dire need of a bath, and the leader with a voice giving the impression he could make the threats his companions uttered become reality. The fact that he hadn't done anything to Vera yet and had kept the other two from harming one hair on her head didn't mean that he didn't have something worse for her in store. Although she could hardly imagine that. What could be worse than being thrown off the cliff or being slashed up by a knife?
The answer came to her immediately: Having to sit here forever. Her hands tingled and hurt, she slowly lost all sentience in her fingers. She had tried anything she could think of - she had tried to pull her hands out of the ropes with dexterity; she even had used raw force, but it had just resulted in hurting her more. Not even her little survival knife could be of use to her since it was placed in one of the pockets of her jacket, completely out of her reach. She had even tried to reach the knot that tied her hands together with her fingers, but even if that had worked, it wouldn't have accomplished anything - she knew jack about knots.
Vera became steadily angrier and angrier. Not only peeved like once towards her father, but outright furious. Other girls in her place might have been scared, crying and moaning, but that didn't go for Vera. Her escape attempts were accompanied by groans and grunts getting wilder by the minute, and more than once she threw caution to the wind and ripped at her bonds with full force until the pain brought her back down to earth. She despised this whole situation, being rendered helpless at the mercy of these three villains, for nothing else could describe Johnson and his two psychopaths.
Again and again she looked at the campfire that was so remote it couldn't warm her and watched the trio chatting. She could even observe how the giant examined the contents of her backpack, showing them to Johnson who took a quick peek and then mumbled something unintelligable. The giant, apparently named Whitmore by the other two, rummaged through Vera's things and pulled out the box with sugar bars. But a sharp call from Johnson and an unmistakable gesture made him put it back.
The longer she kept watching them, the more she managed to recognize a pattern. Again she was reminded of the diverse bands of mercenaries who had been at the academy. The Dawn Serpents, the Dark Wolves and other groups coming in hordes and trying to solve every problem with a hail of laser blasts didn't count in there. It was more about the smaller teams, not bigger than a handful of mercenaries with their abilities complimenting each other in a way that they could handle anything. That was the kind of time Vera was reminded of by the trio.
Whitmore was obviously brought for his brawn. At least seven inches tall, almost as broad, his worn-out battle armor straining over a huge mass of muscle. Besides, she knew his tight grip first-hand. He seemed to obey any command his leader gave him, but although Vera didn't see him as vastly intelligent, he did show some vigilance. The woman Sykes on the other hand was quick, dextrous and left a nervous, randown impression. In addition to that she couldn't stand children, as Vera was completely sure of. At every opportunity available she played around with her big knives, and more than once she threw baleful glances in the direction of her tied-up prisoner. But there had to be more to it than that - as restless as Sykes appeared she seemed to be impaired on a psychological basis.
And Johnson... Vera couldn't figure him out properly. He possessed authority and charisma she had rarely seen in a mercenary leader. There was not a single moment where he appeared to loose control or didn't know what he did. When his companions got out of control, it took him but one hard wordless shout to get them back in line. Though she was reluctant to admit it: Vera was afraid of him. He did seem like someone using his problems with words rather than weapons, but wouldn't shy away from using both. Whenever he uttered a thread, then Vera knew we was ready to have it followed by deeds.
There was hardly anything to fear from the other two grown-ups. Only from him.
Suddenly Johnson came over to her, carrying her backpack with her provisions. Vera watched him tensely. She couldn't make out his face in the dark, just his posture hinted at what was on his mind. Vera doubted his intentions to be good. But maybe it was just fear making her think that.
He dropped the backpack
right before her feet and crouched before her. With the fire behind his
head, his face covered in shadows, he looked ghastly. "So you have run
away from home?" His question had something lurking to it, as if he
suspected something.
Vera stared at him, then nodded silently. Johnson slowly returned the nod.
"That's the reason you carry so much food around with you" he asserted. His voice was calm and had some warmth to it that caught Vera by surprise. Maybe he wasn't as nasty as she had figured him out. "You were probably going to survive in the wild for some time. But what would you have done if you had run out of supplies?"
With every heartbeat she feared that she was found out. Her parents had raised her to be honest, and lying wasn't her strong suit. But she had no choice. If Johnson learned about the crashed shuttle... and about Tammy... She braced herself. "I don't know" she answered intimidated. "I haven't thought of that."
Johnson let out a sympathetic sigh. A quick glimpse over his shoulder let him look for his companions. Vera glimpsed as he did, her glimpse lasting longer than his. He could clearly see the disgust on her face when she saw Whitmore taking a sip of a bottle certainly not filled with water. When she turned her look back to the leader she saw him smile faintingly.
"You're not afraid of them" he noticed, making it sound like a question. As he looked at Vera expectingly, she shook her head in silence. "But you are afraid of me, aren't you?"
She didn't want to admit it. But almost mechanically she gave a nod. Johnson's smile grew bigger, it was even visible in the shadows on his face. "Well, how about that?" he said. "You are a lot smarter than you want to show us, am I right?"
Vera stared at him cluelessly, shrugging. What was she supposed to answer to that? It made her nervous that he seemed to see through her so easily. But perhaps he would react to the charm she possessed, as Hank Bodderias had always assured her. Being an innocent child and all this... She despised herself for it, but it was worth a shot. "Please!" she whispered imploringly. "I just want to go home. I don't care about what you're doing here. I'm not gonna tell on you, promise!"
"I believe you" Johnson responded, surprising her once more. "After all, what else could you be, apart from an ignorant runaway? Had you been any older I might consider you to be a spy or mercenary sent after us. But how old are you, thirteen?"
It was a trap! Vera was sure of it. "Twelve" she responded quickly. He sure as rain knew the laws on this planet, with her being thirteen becoming subject to different laws and not counting as a child anymore. The way he was asking this did show it - he was interrogating her. Fortunately her birthday had been only yesterday, so her answer was still believable. "I pose no threat to you at all. So please let me go!"
For the moment Johnson appeared to consider it. But when he finally shook his head, her heart dropped into her boots. "I'm sorry, kiddo, but at this moment I can't take the risk. Not as long as our work here isn't finished."
"But..." Vera looked at him terrified. If he didn't release her, what would he do to her instead?
He stood up. "If I were you I'd just try to come to terms with it. You ran away from home. You've got to live with that."
Vera sobbed, only partially acting this time. She gave it one last desperate try: "If you let me go... I will go deeper into the wild where no one will find me. No matter what you're doing here, you will be finished before I can tell anyone about you."
Johnson looked down at her pensively. "That does sound reasonable" he then said. "I'll think about it." As he turned around to go back to the campfire he paused for a moment. "I will have you brought a blanket and something to eat. Until I've made my decision you will be safe. As long as you behave yourself, that is." The last words bearing the undercurrent of a threat again. Vera wouldn't have dreamed of argueing with him at this moment. Beside the point that she was tied up and unable to do anything.
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