4 Chapter Four: What Now?

Camo was sitting by her dad, Damien examining more Indian bodies, for what, she didn't know.

Where are we? How could an entire chopper dissapear? What now?

She heard groaning beside her, her dad. She stood up, clutching her head, swaying.

Unfortunately, Damien noticed.

"Camo.. What's wrong?" He jogged towards her, concern written all over his face.

"Nothing is wrong." Camo instantly lowered her hand.

"Camo." Damien's voice grew deeper, a commanding tone adding to his normally care free voice.

"What?" She smiled, waving her hand nonchalantly, as if to dismiss his worry.

"Are you more hurt than you're letting on?" He asked her, grabbing her arm.

"No. I feel fine. Now, if we can stop wasting time, let's find something for my father's leg."

"Time on you can't be wasted." Damien replied.

"We have more important things to focus on." Camo said, brushing his concern away.

"You are important, Camo." Damien said, placing his hands on her shoulders.

She had to look up at him to meet his eyes, and all she saw there was worry. But she was getting pissed at him, at his concern, at the heat, at the whole damn problem. Irrationally pissed.

"Fuck off, Damien." She spat, shrugging his hands off of her, and walking away.

Damien's face showed his hurt, but it quickly turned to anger. He was used to Camo's somewhat bipolar attitude and personality, especially when it came down to injuries to her and another person, but it still pissed him off. She always downplayed how hurt she was. Like she thought she deserved to be in pain.

"Bitch." He mumbled under his breath, going back to find something to use as a splint.

Camo was walking east, towards the setting sun. She knew Damien was just worried for her, but her father had a bigger injury. Something that could prove dangerous, deadly even, if it got infected.

Damien should worry about my dad, not me. I'm not very important anyhow.

Camo sat down, letting the dust settle around her, looking out into the horizon.

"Where the hell are we?" She spoke aloud, to the empty plains around her.  She layed on her back, looking up at the cloudless sky. Her mind began to wander, back to that morning.

They had been given a simple assignment. Actually, she had been given the assignment. Test out the new GPS tracker in the helicopter. Damien tagged along, using the excuse that she needed a co-pilot for safety. She allowed it, happy about having company. Especially his company. Then her dad joined, he saw the two prepping the chopper. He didn't trust the two to be alone. As annoying as it was, Camo knew he had more than enough reason.

A yell came from behind her. She shot up and whirled around, her gun already out, safety off. She looked towards the shout, her eyes unfocused. It was her father. Damien had found something to use as a splint, and was setting the bone.

Camo got up and jogged over. She kneeled by her father, holding his leg down so Damien could set it properly.

"Fuck that hurts!" Her father yelled,  pounding the ground.

"Almost done, Sir. " Damien told him, grinding his teeth in effort.

Another pop and the bone was set. Damien took two sticks and placed them on either side of the leg, using strips of what Camo guessed to be shirt, as rope to tie them together.

"Done." Damien said, backing off, blood on his hands.

There were other pieces of shirt being used as bandages, sopping up the blood, stopping the flow.

"There. Not so bad." Camo said, smiling at her dad.

"For you maybe. You didn't have to sit through that." Her father panted.

"I've sat through similar." She commented.

"That you have." Damien replied,being the one to set them and cast them more than once.

"So. What now?" Her father asked, sitting up now that his leg was splinted.

"Good question." Damien said, looking at Camo.

"Why would I have a plan?" She asked.

"You are the survivalist." Her father said.