The summer's breeze was a heavy, hot stride across the barren land that was Badlands New Mexico. Fine red dust kicked up with every stiff gust, and with every step of Xavier's shoes, a cloud of the dust fluffed up around his feet, coating his hiking boots in a thin red film. Nearly every fold and crevice of his pants held the dirt, forming red streaks along the length of his pant legs.
He hated it.
His body was conditioned to the cold and rain of Seattle, not the harsh desert heat. His camping gear weighed down on his moist back, and seemed to get heavier with every step. All of this just for a novel he wanted to write.
It was a noble premise. A mass murderer burying his victims alive in the desert, and an investigator's story of tracking the man down and nearly being buried alive himself. And his Mom, though she always doubted his writing, told him that if you wanted a believable setting, you have to have been to a place like it. That was when he found the cheapest plane ticket possible and decided to spend a day and a night deep out in the calderas of Badlands.
It was a stupid decision.
For starters, he cursed himself for not bringing enough water, and found himself at only a quart left to last him the rest of the day, night, and next day. Secondly, he had never been hiking, camping, or even outside the state of Washington in his entire life. And third, he didn't know how to pitch a tent, or how to make a fire.
"Yeah well...Mom always said I wasn't the smartest one of the bunch. Ain't that right Rocky." He muttered under his breath, only earning a glance up in recognition of his name being uttered from his loyal companion, Rocky the Doberman.
"We'll camp soon...don't worry buddy."
At around dawn his legs were shaking with effort, his back was drenched, and the top of his stubbly head was lobster red. "This is what I get..." He muttered, "I could've worked for Dad in construction. Could've been a carpenter. But no. No no no. I had to go...chasing my dreams to become a writer. Had to go chasing excitement. Had to go camp in the flipping desert and– wait where's the map." His hand had subconsciously patted his pocket where a folded map and compass had resided. But now there was nothing but moist fabric clinging to his legs. "No no no no no!" He frantically threw down his bag and dumped its contents onto the floor.
The map was gone.
"No no no no shit! Oh man Rocky...what do I do? We can't walk back! We'd be lost...oh god..." A firm palm whacked his forehead, resulting in a howl of pain and furious anger as his hand slapped his horrid sun burn. "Ugh man! God freakin' dammit!" he screeched and pounded his fist into the ground. "Why the hell did I do this?" A loud groan erupted from his throat and as he glanced up to look his dog in the eyes to tell him that they were going to die out there, he saw the faint glimmer of lights far out in the distance. "Oh thank God. C'mon Rocky." He muttered, and shoved his belongings back into his bag and hefted it onto his back and blindly set off for the building.
He nearly slammed face first into the silver chain linked fence. His fingers hooked around the links, and his face pressed against the metal in desperation. "Hey is anyone there! Please! I lost my map and I'm uh...lost myself! And I'm low on food and water and..." He leaned back and squinted through the darkness to get a view of the logo on the side of the building. "Mann Co." He muttered quietly under his breath, and in the next second, found himself face down on the dusty floor with a pain spearing through the back of his head. As his vision darkened, he caught sight of a pair of combat boots, and a shovel was dropped to the floor as the man grasped onto his ankles and began to drag him away.
He was awoken to the sound of a voice. A female voice. A questioning voice.
"I'll ask you again Mr. Lutz, I know you're awake. How did you find this facility?" The overwhelming scent of cigarette smoke clogged his mouth and nose and he opened his eyes to see straight down the barrel of a gun. His eyes grew wide and he tried to wrench himself away only to find that he was tied firmly to an rough wooden chair.
"I-I came by this building by accident I swear!" The woman standing behind the gun was actually rather small. She was thin and short, with a pair of glasses pushed far up her nose, and a clipboard hugged tightly to her chest in her other hand.
But it was the woman behind her that scared him the most.
There stood a woman in a deep purple suit, her hair salt and pepper and rather frizzy sitting upon her head. Her expression was one of disinterest and boredom, but yet she stood by to watch as this woman held a gun to his head.
"Kill him. He's of no use to us and no one is to know of this facility."
"No please! I won't tell anyone I swear! Please just...just let me go. I won't call the police or anything I promise!"
"Oh yes we can make sure of that." There was a loud click as the small woman clicked off the safety on the gun.
"No please! I want to live!"
"What have you got to live for Mr. Lutz? Your writing? Even your Mother knew you couldn't do it." The old woman chuckled.
"How did you-?"
"Your journal from your bag provided me with more than enough information about you. About why you came to New Mexico. About your book, about your family. Even all the way back when you adopted Rocky. Poor little guy. He just wouldn't stop biting Soldier's leg."
"Wh- did you...did you kill my dog?"
"Indirectly."
His eyes squeezed shut and hot tears stung as they rolled from his eyes.
"Don't worry. You'll see him soon."
"Wait wait! Maybe I can help you! You know, like instead of killing me! I used to uh...be a carpenter! I fix buildings and stuff and I couldn't help but notice the wear and tear on the outside of the building! Maybe I can help?"
The woman with the gun lowered it ever so slightly and looked back at the old woman, who had brought her hand up to her chin in thought. His eyes fluttered shut and squeezed closed as more desperate tears streamed from his eyes.
"A carpenter...more like a janitor." The woman murmured thoughtfully. "Tell you what. You have two options. I kill you now and we drop the discussion, or...you work for me for the rest of your miserable life."
"And so that's why I'm here without pay." Xavier finished his story with a sigh. The BLU Medic nodded ever so slightly, and handed him a navy blue jump suit.
" Vell Xavier Lutz, you are hooked up to respawn. I am zhe Medic. I vill take care of your injuries vhile you vork for us."
"Injuries? What exactly do you do here? And whats respawn?"
"Oh zhey didn't tell you?"
"No?"
"Vell you vill find out."