There was utter silence now. The suns rays beat fiercely down on the tired, worn soldiers. The men were shifting uncomfortably, they younger soldier sat dumbstruck. The man sat next to him shifted away, yanking on his leather greaves as he did so. It was as if he could feel the heated anger leaking from the man.
“What do you mean you don’t know?” The young man finally shouted. Garma opened his mouth to speak but was cut short as the boy continued. “You brought us into a wasteland with little food and water. Let a load of us die at the hands of wraiths so you could search hundreds of miles of debris for something that you don’t even know the looks of?”
The lead Headtail looked at Garma, as if waiting for a command. Garma ignored him but instead spoke to the boy.
“Many have died yes, many of us have lost people important to us but we are under-“
“Just because Horus is gone doesn’t mean you” The boy was silenced by a massive, clawed hand that pushed him back to seated position.
“Have you forgotten yourself Harken?” The massive headtail said as he pushed the boy down. Harken, the boy, said no more. Instead he sat and quietly tightened his leather armour.
Garma had stopped taking notice at the mention of Horus’ name. His heart sank as he thought about him. He had tried to save him; he was leaving him for dead when the wraiths attacked. The man that had saved him when he had lost everything to the great fire, the man who pulled him from the gutter and gave him a life, gave him hope. Garma had just walked away. Now every part of his soul was aching because of that choice.
“Captain.” The Headtail said, looking intently at the men as he said it as if to remind them of Garma’s status. “Our orders?”
“Vorku.” Garma said addressing the Headtail. “Take point, everyone else. We march.”
He stood as he said this and began to walk weakly towards his destination. The vertical plate, they were closer than before. Garma could actually see the broken buildings still attached to it. It would take the rest of the day to get to its base. They just had to hope this infinus was there. As he trudged heavily along the tops of the buildings, Garma suddenly felt a faint ray of hope well up inside. He never saw Horus die, maybe he escaped. He could still be alive. Garma clung rigidly to that ray of hope the second it showed himself, that hope pushed him on. Horus was here somewhere and Garma was intent on finding him.