Explosions sounded distantly through the compound, as Violet lay there. Slipping across the river like an eel, she made for the compound, filled with a determination to at least be clothed at the end of her mission. She didn't want to end her first solo mission successful but as a joke herself. She estimated that most of the personnel would have left the base by now, looking for an escape, by sea or air.
Fire licked against the inside of certain windows, and even with the dancing shadows she saw no silhouettes, shadows or people inside the base. The water poured from her skin, as she emerged hidden in the rushes on the side nearer the building. A large hole blown through the hangar door looked the easiest way in for Violet.
Leaving a trail of watery drips behind her, she ran low and fast for the open door. As her feet slapped onto the concrete, she belatedly realised she should probably do this while invisible. Flickering into invisibility, she made the rest of the journey as a trail of drying footprints. The final ones against the wall lacking any detail to mark them as bare feet.
Inside, the emergency lights had come on, a dark red glow reminding her of old movies about submarines 'running silent'. “Is red light meant to be quieter than white?” she wondered as she stepped inside. It made her think of the kitchen oven, and was positively cosy compared to the surrounding jungle.
Walking through the building, her senses alert for the sounds of other people. It just felt even eerier, both abandoned, but still very much alive with the fires and the damage still fresh, still ongoing. Shattered heli-flyers lay blown against the walls, their huge blades in pieces. Abandoned four-wheel-drive vehicles with their engines still running.
Focusing on her real priority, Violet looked around for a more human-sized door. For a door where a mechanic might emerge, somewhere that might lead to a changing room, or some other place where staff... or she could clean up and get dressed.
The strain of keeping herself invisible made her take cover. Being invisible felt like holding her breath, not a strain, and easily done. However, she had to let go at time, as if surfacing from a deep dive, some internal super-muscle needing a rest.
It might have been her imagination, but she felt like she was in the oven. Her skin drying out, cooking in the baleful red that made everything look darker. Holding her hand up, she verified she could still see it clearly, just as sharply as ever. It looked darker; hell, everything looked darker.
Running her hand across her temple, she brushed her hair off her face. Giving it a helpful puff, as she tried to blow the last strands aside. Even her hair was starting to feel frizzy, over-dry and... she dismissed it as her imagination... and even if it wasn't... it wasn't a priority.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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