Day Two

[Samus Aran]

Samus raised both of her eyebrows at the sight of the wounded newcomer. She didn’t think they could get much more unusual than an anthropomorphic mouse, but here was what appeared to be an anthropomorphised canned drink. Still, he was a person, and he was in pain. Samus’s eyes looked down to its admittedly chiselled torso; from beneath those reflective fingers, a steady stream of blood could be seen, washing away with the rain. If he didn’t receive medical treatment soon, he was going to die.

“Ksh …” The bounty hunter grit her teeth, even as she kept her eyes on him. She shot a glance at the others from the corner of her eye; even as the rest of them hesitated like her, Mickey ran forward. She whipped a hand towards the mouse. “Wait!”

He didn’t stop. But even Samus raised her flak cannon in panic, the wounded silicone man crumpled across the frame of Mickey Mouse with a pained groan. Samus bit her lip and lowered her weapon.

“We need to get out of here.” Erza’s eyes flickered around, scanning the open plains. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”

* * * * *

The four unlikely companions dashed into the shelter of the cave, helping Harry to carry the now-unconscious PepsiCo representative. Only once he was laid flat across the rocky floor did they stop to get a proper look at the spoils of their venture.

The MREs weren’t appetising to Samus now, but she knew she’d be thinking differently by the next day or two. She’d been rationing her portions thus far, but this meant they could all survive a little longer without having to put themselves at risk chasing deer or scrambling around in rivers to catch fish. She could almost begin to feel the tight muscles of her shoulders begin to release, if only a little.

The medkit was a technological-looking thing, a metal box with something like a fold out needle. The hunter guessed that it wasn’t a traditional medkit, but something capable of healing even the grievous injuries she’d sustained. She found herself moving to open it up before catching herself and looking at the others. They were all staring at the man on the ground.

“Do you think he’s going to make it?” asked Mickey.

Harry bit his thumb. “Not unless we use that medkit on him right now.” His expression was pained. “Samus …”

Samus said nothing. She took off her helmet, removed the hair tie from her bunched up knot and shook free her sweat-slicked hair. There were heavy bags under her eyes and her face was red, blotched from the cold and whatever the hell else was going on in her body right now. “He might be dead anyway …” She slid the medkit across the floor, “… But we won’t know until we try.”

In unspoken agreement, Harry unlatched the top of the medkit. There were instructions inside. “Spray … across … wounded area …” He took out the inner contraption and did as it instructed. Within moments the Pepsi man’s wound began to coagulate and fizz over. He stirred.

“Th-thank … y-you …”

“Stay down,” Erza instructed. “You’re still pretty hurt.”

And we still don’t know whether we can trust you, thought Samus, noting the knight’s careful body language.

The Pepsi representative nodded, but he looked happy. No wonder; his life had just been saved. Samus wondered how many others might have done the same, put in their position.

“There’s still one more charge.” Harry looked between them all. It was obvious they were trying to decide; who needs it most? The mouse and the knight were both sporting what looked like some nasty burn wounds. Harry had been strong and silent about his earlier stab wound from the red-costumed vigilante, but Samus had noticed the subtle changes in his movements that indicated it hurt it a lot more than he let on.

Still … Samus didn’t look at her own injuries. She didn’t need to. Her left shoulder still burned with the fire of a thousand suns, and her stomach; well, her stomach periodically made her feel like she was going to vomit up her own intestines and die. Eating hurt; moving hurt; lying down hurt. She looked at the others and they were looking back at her. “Okay,” she said.

As Harry stepped over and prepared to administer the remaining charge of the medkit, their silver-skinned guest croaked in an almost stereotypically heroic tone: “Wait.”

They all looked towards him.

“If you’re looking for physical refreshment, there’s no product more refreshing than PepsiCo Incorporated’s Mountain Dew.” He groaned, taking a few seconds to catch his breath before continuing. “Just one sip, and you’ll find yourself reinvigorated and ready to take on even the most physically demanding sports and activities.” He coughed blood. “Now in diet flavour.” He passed out.

They looked from the unconscious Pepsi-man to the bottle of Diet Mountain Dew protruding from the picnic basket of MREs. Samus picked it up with her bad hand. “What the hey,” she growled. She was thirsty, and what better to quench one’s thirst than the delicious flavour of PepsiCo’s own Diet Mountain Dew? As she unscrewed the cap, there was a reassuring pop and fizz and the bounty hunter found herself begin to salivate. She raised the still-cold bottle to her parched lips and drank deeply of its both re-energising and great tasting qualities. As if by magic, the pain of her wounds began to lessen. “Wow …” she breathed, flexing her shoulder. “I feel great!”

They all eyed the hunter enviously before turning to the last remaining charge of the medkit. “I’m fine, really,” insisted Mickey, nodding towards the other two.

Erza looked at Harry. The wizard glanced at the massive bruise and the cut on Erza’s face. He held his palms up. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had much worse than this.”

The knight looked down at the medkit. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Mickey?”

“Got it.”

The mouse smiled as he took the med spray and began applying it Erza’s wounds. When it was over, she sighed a relieved sigh.

“Well, that went better than expected.”

She wasn’t wrong. Even Samus felt a lot better. She’d been hesitant about saving their glossy-skinned patron, but somehow even despite her many layers of cynicism and experiences of betrayal, she couldn’t see the Pepsi man turning on them even if it did offer him any advantage. The man was clearly here to sell Pepsi and advertise his brand. She wondered if he even had any idea what the competition entailed. She shook her head. What a scumbag, Karl.

“Who’s on next watch?” asked Mickey.

“It’s my turn,” said Erza. She turned to Samus. “How about it?”

The bounty hunter nodded and stood up. She had to glance down at the Pepsi man, but decided that tying him up wasn’t worth the effort. The others probably wouldn’t like it either. She didn’t know what the others had seen but she was beginning to realise that they were all painfully naïve. The more Samus thought on it, the more she realised how incredibly lucky they’d all been to find others that weren’t out to win this game at any cost. When she’d arrived, she’d been ready to go it alone the entire way; but grievous injuries had a way of changing that, and so far she hadn’t been killed in her sleep. Perhaps there were more good primes out there then she’d been led to believe.

She crossed to the entrance of the cave and sat down across from Erza, training her eyes on the pitch black landscape. Harry, Erza, Mickey. Thanks to them, she’d come back from the darkness of despair to something else. Not cheer, not by a long shot, but … hope. Yes. Hope. And she intended to repay that.

Erza’s soft but sure tones reached her ears. “Whatcha thinking ‘bout?”

Samus grinned, placing her helmet back on. “How we’re all going to survive this.”