She lay on the grass, her red-gold hair fanned out against the green blades. Her hands were behind her head, making her tattered blue tank top creep up to expose her stomach. Her long legs were covered in a pair of black shorts with various holes and rips. Along her ribs was a skin-deep gash, the blood dried and flaking. The setting sun sent rays of orange and gold on her and her mirrored sunglasses flashed. The wind picked up and the giant apple tree behind her sighed. A daisy twirled from her lips as she toyed with the stem of it in her teeth. She sighed, a grasshopper hopped on her stomach. The sun casted the sky purple with golden clouds. It was such a peaceful spot. Nikita sat up, making the grasshopper jump away. She pushed her slightly curly hair out of her eyes, stray bits of grass floated down. She scooted herself back until she was leaning against the trunk of the tree. As the sun went down and the sky deepened with color, she slid off her sunglasses. Her pupils widened slightly and her green eyes looked cat-like. She watched the sun sink beneath the distant hills and shadows fell over her face, making it look hard and demonic. In the distance lights bloomed, millions of tiny spots of lights blinked before the night. "The city has awakened", she murmured to the grasshopper as it crawled up her arm. She turned her head, leaning it against the rough surface of the tree. It was a different sight in the east, where she had come from. The sky was ablaze; a burning aerial inferno. Flames traveled up into the atmosphere on flammable gases as they burned out. Sirens wailed softly, no louder then bees buzzing. It was devastation, a wasteland now; it was her home. Or what was left of it. Nikita felt her eyes water and fill with tears. She tore the daisy from her mouth and crushed it in her fist. Her family, her friends, everything she ever knew, gone.

"Oz", it was a moan as the tears fell. She was the only one left, the only survivor. Everyone was dead. She was dead…Or dying, she didn't know. "Oz!", it was a war cry as she crushed the grasshopper, just like the flower. She balled her hands into fists and pressed the heels of them to her eyes, trying to stop the tears that rained down. Great, racking sobs rose in her, and she pulled her knees to her chest. Her hair fell forward to make a curtain around her, and still the tears fell. The moon rose slowly, a grin of silver white. Crying, she remembered, she couldn't forget. It was the last day of her life.

She had woken, as she did every other day. She laid on her back, staring up at her ceiling, as her wispy bed curtains she had bought on a trip flowed in the wind. She turned her head on the satin pink pillow, to look at her open window. She could see the lovely blue sky with a few bright white clouds. Below it slightly was the far away rolling green hills of her Uncle’s estate. She smiled and stretched against her bed covers. They were pink as well and she pushed them away in disgust. Everything was pink. She looked around her room, sitting up, her long, slightly curly red hair wild. Pink walls, pink carpet, pink drawers. How she hated pink. She was fourteen, old enough to redecorate her room. Old enough to at least go out on a date. She frowned as she reached down to put on her slippers. Not that she had anyone to go on a date with. She grabbed her robe, the only thing that wasn’t pink, instead a black satin, and walked out of her room. She smelled breakfast cooking and smiled hungrily. Pancakes. She walked down the hallway, past the pictures of her family. Her Uncle, Denny, and her fishing, smiling as they proudly held up a small trout. The next one showed her Aunt Avvie showing her how to shoot a bow and arrow at age seven, her red-gold hair cut short as a boy’s. That was before she started to grow it out. The last picture on the wall, she stopped and took a minute to look at, like she did every other day. It was of her parents, together and smiling, a brilliant ocean behind them with a beautiful sailboat. The name of the sailboat could be seen, it was simply “Home”. Nikita sighed as she looked at this picture, tracing over their features mentally. She felt as if she were losing some of them everyday. They had died when Nikita was four, a terrible train accident.

“Nikita!”, Aunt Avvie called up. Nikita looked once more at the picture, and then hurried down the stairs. Her kitten Tigris was waiting for her on the kitchen table. He mewed a greeting and she answered with a pet. Aunt Avvie walked over with a plate of steaming pancakes.

“Get that cat off the table Kita, I don’t want you to eat hair.”, her Aunt ordered her. Nikita smiled and lowered Tigris to the floor. Her poor Aunt, she was allergic to cats. Her Uncle Wally then walked in, the morning paper in hand.

“God blast it to hell!”, he roared. Aunt Avvie and Nikita looked up calmly at him.

“Is it the reforming of Oz again Uncle?”, Nikita asked as she chewed a mouthful of pancakes.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”, her aunt chastised her. Her uncle sat down at the table with a huff, his red beard the same color as Nikita and her mother's hair.

“That damn cooperation is going to drive all of us to hell and back. Someone is trying to start up Oz again, and they want the help of us. No doubt they’re asking others, and some are even saying yes. But after that Marie Mahayama incident, I’m telling them a firm no thank you.”, her uncle told her as he opened the paper up. Aunt Avvie set a steaming cup of coffee next to him and kissed his cheek calmly.

“I really wish you wouldn’t talk of these government affairs with the girl, its not healthy for her.”, her aunt scolded over him good naturally.

“Nonsense, the girl needs to know what’s going on in the world. Know what the hell she’s going to do in it.”, he returned gruffly. Nikita smiled at her uncle’s defense. Sometimes her uncle thinks of her as a boy. Aunt Avvie was never pleased with Nikita’s tendencies to do unlady like things. She was furious when Denny had taught her how to fight and shoot. Her aunt thought the only lady like weaponry was the bow. Nikita looked down at her plate and grinned. Her aunt would definitely not be pleased if she found out Denny had also taught her how to pick locks and pilot mobile doll suits. Tigris, ignoring the rule of no animals on the table, jumped up to sit in front of her uncle. Before Aunt Avvie could scold the cat, Denny walked in. Denny was her cousin, also second in command of her uncle’s military force. The Jones army was a hire on army that also helped war stricken country with defenses. Currently they were receiving requests from an unknown source who said they were the new Oz. Nikita’s Uncle was not a very war like man, and preferred to use the great army as a peacekeeper. Denny sat down at the table on the other side of her uncle, looking tired and worn. Aunt Avvie immediately returned with a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes. Denny offered her a weary smile and dug into them gratefully. Tigris had now managed to climb up on her uncle’s shoulders, the great man, to absorbed into the newspaper to care.

“Denny, I want you to take Nikita clothes shopping, she needs some nice dresses.”, her aunt told Denny. Nikita scowled, and saw that Denny did the same. Their eyes met and he winked at her over his coffee cup. Nikita smiled, knowing that they would probably end up at the shooting range instead of a clothes store.

“It is utterly ridiculous!”, her uncle roared again, setting down the paper to reveal his angry face. Tigris sat up atop his head like he belonged there. “Oz has gone too far! I will never side with that demon army of heretics!”, he tiraded as the kitten calmly started to wash a paw. Nikita giggled, her fierce uncle softened by the image he made. He glanced up and scowled.

“Nikita get this animal off my head!”, he ordered. Nikita stood and obeyed, carrying Tigris out of the kitchen. She kissed the kitten’s head, thinking about what her uncle announced. So they weren’t siding with Oz, hmm? Nikita sighed, knowing they were likely to use threats to emphasize their points. Nikita sat at the window seat in the living room, looking over the wooded grounds.

“I don’t know Tigris, maybe we should ask uncle if I can join the fight too, hmm?”, she petted the kitten. She looked back out the window and stopped. A dark figure stood beneath one of the trees. Nikita frowned, but looked down at the kitten to hide it. Oz shouldn’t know about her uncle’s decisions yet, so she didn’t think it was one of them, but who else would know how to slip through the estate security. Nikita decided she would find out. She stood up, carrying the kitten to the door. She set the cat down as she pulled out a gun from the hallway closet, away from any windows. It might seem strange that Nikita was so use to handling weapons, but she had to be, with her uncle’s line of work. The cat stood next to the front door, mewing anxiously as Nikita slipped the small handgun in her robe pocket. She stopped for one rational second to wonder if this was the right thing, decided to write a note in case she was kidnapped and opened the door. As anticipated, Tigris leapt out of the house, running right for the woods. Nikita feinted shock and annoyance as she closed the door quickly and hurried after the kitten.

“Tigris! Come back you rat!”, she called. She walked purposely over to the area where she saw the shadowed figuring, looking for her cat. She listened intently for signs of another’s presence, but heard nothing. Whoever they were, they were really good. She walked deeper into the woods, away from the view of the house, holding her black robe up over the littered ground. She really wished she would’ve gotten dressed, glancing down at her tank top and underwear underneath the robe. But as she walked through the undergrowth, she heard no more signs of any human presence, so maybe she was seeing things. She turned around, intending to walk back home, and came face to face with her shadowed figure.

~ Continue to Gundam Angels Part 2

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