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Every muscle in Lara’s body ached. She was bruised to high hell, the gash on her forearm stung, and her head was pounding. Jill was looking pretty brutal herself. They’d need to regroup.
“Let’s stop a moment,” Lara suggested, “We can patch up.”
“Yeah, good plan,” Jill agreed with a groan.
Lara shrugged the pack off of her back and let it drop to the ground. She took a knee beside the rucksack and began rummaging, pulling a first aid kit out and popping the case open. Inside was everything she needed. Bandages, disinfectant, some mild painkillers. She wished suddenly that she had packed something stronger, but for now this would have to do.
Lara was exceptionally accustomed to patching herself up at this point in her life, and it was now like second nature. The motions of cleaning and bandaging happened far away from her mind as she began formulating their next moves. If Jill needed assistance, she would offer, but it was essential to assess her own damage first. Can’t rescue a drowning swimmer with a hole in your boat , Winston always cautioned.
Satisfied with her work, she turned back to Jill.
To her immense puzzlement, Jill was grinding up some sort of plant leaves into small chunks. When the chunks were seemingly small enough to Jill, she dumped them into a rolling paper, creating a beautiful and peculiar mix of red and green and yellow.
Lara’s eyes narrowed, “What are you…”
Jill paid Lara no mind, and instead rolled the paper into a tube and sealed off the ends. Then, exactly as Lara suspected and hoped she wouldn’t, she stuck an end of the tube in her mouth and clicked on a lighter, singing the other end.
“What in god’s name are you smoking right now?”
“It’s medicinal,” Jill breathed, smoke curling out of her lips as she exhaled.
Lara huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what everyone says.”
Jill snorted. “Didn’t realize you were a cop,” she chided, taking another drag.
“Numbing your brain isn’t what you need right now,” Lara sighed, shaking her head, “And aren’t you a cop?”
Another chuckle escaped Jill, “It’s not weed, genius. And no, not anymore.”
Jill took another long drag of her joint before extending it to Lara.
“It’s an herbal mix we’d use in STARS,” Jill explained, “You can mix it in water but it tastes like something you’d snake out of a drainpipe. You can put it in an oil and inject it, but we don’t have oil or a syringe. Got any other ideas?”
Lara eyed the joint before taking it between her fingers and holding it up for examination, “What’s in it?”
“Fuck if I know at this point,” Jill sighed, “I’ve read the reports but it doesn’t clear up a lot for me. All I know is it takes the edge off better than any painkiller that is strong enough to do the job but not mess you up after. Biggest side-effect is being thirstier than you’ve ever been in your life.”
Lara quirked a brow, “Sure you’ve not just been partaking in the office’s flower stash?”
Jill snickered, “Trust me, weed was not a rarity among STARS. You don’t wanna do this guy recreationally.”
“I see,” Lara laughed, handing back the joint.
“Not interested?”
“No thank you,” Lara shook her head, “Makes me paranoid. Gives me the feeling that my every move is being watched by international crime syndicates and that that information is being sold to pharmaceutical companies who have their own private armies searching for cursed tablets–--no, it’s quite silly and irrational.”
Jill coughed a laugh.
“No,” Lara continued, “The only depressant that interests me comes in a bottle that’s been aged like buried treasure or chilled to perfection in only the most ancient of refrigerators.”
Jill smiled, “Buy you a drink sometime?”
“Please,” Lara flashed a smile back, “I’m dying to discuss your STARS smoke sessions over a beer. I bet you have stories.”
Jill placed the joint between her teeth, procuring her lighter to freshen the burn, “Oh man, do I.”