Synopsis: [Reverse Big Bang Entry] Tucker opens an unexpected email that ends up sending himself and all of the Reds and Blues toward a collision course with the unexpected and the completely deadly. In doing so, they face a beast familiar to many of them – the Meta – whose single minded efforts to complete himself with what remains of the Project Freelancer AIs could spell the death for more than a few of them..
A/N: AT LAST! My entry for the Reverse Big Bang held by rvbficwars in collaboration with my sister from another mister, always lovely and enjoyable beyond compare theeffar who made me SO pleased by giving me an excuse to create a real Horror Story for an RvB fic – the one genre I've really wanted to try out in RvB but have so far – until right now – not had the opportunity for!
The Reverse Big Bang was a blast and working with Effar is, as always, a blast. So very much thank you to the other mods of the blog for running such a smooth, tight ship and for working with me in all my silliness and the confusion of the last few weeks as I tried to straighten out my evolving situation.
The final wordcount for this chapter is 5454 exactly, and the overall wordcount for this four-part fic should be 24k! So YAY! I hope it's as enjoyable to read as it was to write!
The Things That Wait
Chapter One: Starting at Zero
One thing they neglected to tell Tucker about being promoted and reassigned was just how fucking boring it was going to be. Which one wouldn't have thought because, for one, he was having to work with the exact aliens that had been trying to wipe out the entirety of the human race for the whole Great War. That, alone, should have been full of excitement.
But fighting aliens was a lot less dangerous than being worshipped by them, and as much as Tucker's self-proclaimed ego might have determined otherwise, he was not enjoying the constant drooling of four-jawed creatures who were constantly trying to touch his kid.
Which was weird and creepy.
The other thing they hadn't told him about his assignment was that he was not the only one to be sent on it. That, as it turned out, happened to be one of the nicer surprises. What with Donut not being the least likable person on the planet. Even for a Red.
Not that Reds and Blues were real.
Maybe that was why they assigned him to the stupid desert in the middle of nowhere. The fact that he could not pretend that Reds and Blues were still a thing, even when Caboose and Church didn't act like Tucker had more than proven his point.
Somewhat paranoid, Tucker wondered if that had put him on some kind of blacklist. Which didn't make sense — they promoted him to Private First Class and gave him a cushy job that was basically hanging out with his kid and babysitting some touring diplomats. Even if it had meant all but freakin' dehydrating in the desert, that was a lot better off than most of the crew from Blood Gulch had been.
He thought. Maybe.
Tucker wasn't really good with details at the moment.
Especially when he was sitting by his sleeping son, boredly playing solitaire through his HUD, and wondering idly if their alien tourists would get bored of the sand covered pyramids yet so they could move on to a different, better part of the planet.
Like one where actual women were stationed.
After all, last he saw Kaikaina she was still in Blood Gulch and making him pay ransom for the nudes she took of his tramp stamp. And lat he saw Tex…
Well, last he saw of Tex, the closest thing he had to a non-guy friend, she had gone evil, kidnapped his son, and blown up a ship to disappear forever.
Tucker's life was fucking weird.
He was mulling over the details, and some fleeting thoughts of his career, when the solitaire matte before his eyes suddenly exploded into a flash of white that too him off guard.
The surprise of it made him jump, which only served as an annoyance later when he was left with the realization that it was just a new email alert popping up over his helmet's HUD.
"Ugh, that's fucking annoying," he decided before checking on the email anyway.
While he didn't exactly have any expectations for what the email was going to pertain to, nothing could have surprised Tucker more than the answer he got. His debit card's automatic payments had been declined.
"What the hell," Tucker said out loud, straightening up and glaring at the email before attempting to open his military payroll.
His small utterances had been enough to cause Junior to roll over and sleepily yawn, his rows of teeth clattering together as he did so. The little alien child was looking at Tucker a little bit expectantly.
"Sorry, bud, just go back to sleep," Tucker tried to assure his kid only for his body to go rigid at the next alert he received. Account not found. "What the…"
Junior woke up even more, sitting up in his bed and chattering nonsense alien blabber at Tucker that he couldn't be bothered to translate. He then leaned in, looking even more concerned.
"Hold on a sec, kiddo," Tucker all but ordered before looking over from their bunks to Donut's bunks. "Hey! Psst! Donut! Donut, wake up! There's something up with our accounts! Money's not getting transferred or some bullshit! Do you know how much debt I've got riding on being paid off by automatic payments? I'll give you a preview: it's fucking staggering!"
With a yawn and stretch, Donut turned in his bunk and looked across the way at Tucker and Junior. The desert had done nothing to diminish his much self-care Donut did, so him turning to look their way required removing his sleeping mask and Tucker and Junior both acclimating to the fact that Donut's face was covered in some disgusting black mask.
"Tucker, why're you still awake?" he yawned. "Aren't we going hiking to the tallest temple tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'm so excited that I can't sleep," Tucker replied flatly. "Put on your helmet and check your military account. It's saying I'm not in the system anymore!"
"How're you supposed to get paid?" Donut asked, reaching over and grabbing his own helmet.
"That's the problem!" Tucker groaned in return.
"Okay, okay, calm down," Donut replied, putting his helmet on, clicking it into place as quickly as he could. The moment everything was aligned, Tucker could see the lights to Donut's helmet come on and his visor light up. It was kind of like plugging into the Matrix. But being allowed to keep your eyebrows. "What am I looking for again?"
"Account log in," Tucker answered. "I'm not showing up at all!"
"Huh," Donut answered without elaboration.
Groaning, Tucker grabbed the sides of his helmet. "Yours too? Maybe it's just the system's down?"
"Oh, no, I logged in automatically," Donut said with a casual flip of his wrist. "I just have more money than I realized. Sc-a-whooore!"
Annoyed, Tucker narrowed his eyes. "Wow, congrats. That's really fucking comforting."
"Why? You need a loan?" Donut asked, folding his fingers together.
"No! I was being sarcastic. Like… dude! What the fuck's going on? Why can't I find my account?" Tucker asked just before another flash of white crossed his HUD, that time making him yelp and fall back out of his chair.
Donut and Junior both looked at him without moving even an inch to check on him.
"You know, you really should unplug from your helmet more often," Donut said with a shrug. "Having technology hardwired to your brain twenty-four seven can't be all that good for you. Or else we would have just all gone Ghost in the Shell ages ago."
"Gone Matrix, dude," Tucker corrected. "And I'm fine, it's just my email alert caught me by surprise."
"If you say so," Donut sang, already beginning to take his helmet back off. "That must be whatever troubleshooter was wrong with your stuff. You know how tech is! Sometimes it makes you get in from behind and earn it!"
"No, Donut, I don't know what that means," Tucker scoffed, opening the email. "Huh, that's weird. What the fuck's going on? It's all encrypted and shit. Like. it's a whole page of numbers and bullshit! That's not going to help me pay my debt off to sassysluts dot com!"
"You pay for porn?" Donut asked in mild concern. "I had no idea being straight was so hard. I just go to Harry Potter sites—"
"I don't pay for it, I just… sometimes click download when I shouldn't," Tucker answered. "It's asking me to download. I'm totally clicking it because, unlike porn, it's my email. And viruses never come from emails."
"I don't know, Tucker, downloading an unknown email to a helmet connected to your brain seems like a real bad idea," Donut tried to argue, but of course Tucker had already accepted anyway.
Junior was clicking his jaws in concern and in general looking disturbed.
"Oh my god it's saying it's only two percent downloaded," Tucker whined. "What've I done!?"
"You let a stranger in through your backdoor and know you're going to wake up with regrets in the morning," Donut responded.
"Okay, you're no help," Tucker began to snap when he felt it.
It started with another white flash before his eyes, something that finally didn't make him jump the way the others before it had, but unsettled him into silence all the same. He was anticipating for the flash to fade back and allow him to move on with his conversation or, at the very least, his download when a harsh chill moved its way down his spine.
The same implants which allowed Tucker to have access to his HUD were beginning to burn, like a computer on overdrive, Like they were running too much, too fast, and the skin around it was burning. He wanted to reach back toward it to yank the metal from his flesh but he couldn't move. Something was stopping the impulse, like an electric jolt overriding his nerves and sparking in the back of his mind in reverse.
He let out a cry of surprise and stomach churning horror at the sensation. It hurt. It fucking hurt and he was more surprised by the development than anyone.
Vaguely, he could hear his name being called and blarghed nearby him but things were turning inward on him very fast and with a lot of power.
All he knew is it all goddamn hurt and he couldn't make it stop.
His HUD flashed something other than white for a second, though his brain could hardly process it through the shock and pain. It only really made sense to him later. Ten percent.
His neck, the base of his skull, was scalding and he was sure he was yelling, but he couldn't hear. It was all white.
Before it said twenty percent he was unconscious entirely.
There were a lot of ways the dream usually started. A few things were the same — the familiar surroundings of his quarters in Blood Gulch, the humidity of an unending arid, summer day, and the complaining. The complaining was probably the most constant of the constants.
After all, you didn't really spend the better part of five years with someone and not have their quirks imprinted on the front of your skull. Visible every time you closed your eyes.
It was a mark of either torture or a genuine friendship. And it was only someone like Church who could have made the two nigh indistinguishable.
Usually that voice was joined by another — his own, Caboose's, Tex's. Less common, the Reds would be there, joining in with the blanket complaints. Tucker liked to think it was a sign that he at the very least had enough self respect to limit his dreams to Blue Base, but it wasn't always true.
In fact, it was infrequently true enough that hearing Donut interject in the middle of Church's usual string of complaints was actually not even all that shocking.
"Wow, I can't believe that just like that, you'd insert into another man like that! I think usually you'd err on the side of caution and at least give them some preparation!"
"What the fuck do you want from me, dude? I panicked! I was haunting a fucking email. It was about as quick thinking as I could get. Plus, you know Tucker. What are the chances he'd open an email titled Warning, Fucking Ghost Inside, Prepare to Have Your Shit Wrecked!"
"I mean, it sounds like the title of a porno."
There was a thoughtful pause.
"Okay, fair enough. Tucker's the one jackass that would open anything remotely pornographic. You know, he's had his identity stolen, like, twelve times! Just since I've known him!"
"Is that a lot?"
"Yeah, Donut! It's a fucking lot! Though, honestly, maybe it wasn't stolen and he's just lying as an excuse for why my credit had to be used every time we ordered something for the goddamn base. Between him and Tex, it's amazing that I didn't die sooner just to get out of paying interest."
There was a cooing noise, closer to Tucker's face that suddenly sprung the marine from drifting between consciousness to full alert. A fatherly instinct that told him that as much as nothing seemed unusual about Church whining and Donut being… himself, he would never ever have a dream where he let Church around Junior without full supervision.
"Dude!" Tucker gasped, jolting awake and sitting up only to partially collapse backwards when the dizziness pounded him, face first.
There were still spots in his vision as Donut fell back, being caught by Donut almost tenderly.
"Hey! Slow down there! You've had a lot put in you while you're out!" Donut said soothingly, if not nonsensically.
Beside him, leaning in close over Tucker's other shoulder, Junior was fine and visibly unhurt. Concern, though, was racking the young alien's face as he looked over Tucker worriedly. His jowls clattered together in a series of noises that probably should have been easier for Tucker to decipher, but with his headache and the general confusion of the moment, were just about meaningless.
"I… I thought I was hearing Church…" Tucker babbled confusedly, reaching up to rub at his eyes only to awkwardly discover his helmet was on. Something that he probably should have figured out with his HUD activated, but in his defense he also hadn't had any idea what else was going on in the moment. "That was… man, that was weird as fuck. Desert's getting to me."
"Uh… I don't know about that…" Donut half sang as he gently guided Tucker back to leaning against a wall.
Tucker began to sober up rather quickly at that, looking directly at Donut with surprise. "Wait! Church is here? I was really hearing him? Holy shit! Where is he? Why hasn't he ever wrote me back! Dude, you better not be telling me he was going on adventures without me. I would be so pissed — oh fuck. Did he bring Caboose? Fucking bet he brought Caboose. Ugh. Never mind. I need you to grab one of those stupid big rocks the aliens worship and use it to knock me out before Caboose gets here."
Donut hesitated, as if he was considering the offer, when the moment was interrupted by that familiar, angry voice.
"Hey, jackass! I didn't bring anyone but myself! And that was already hard as hell, so if you're not dying or anything I'd like to take a rest or something," Church snapped at Tucker.
Ah, just like old times.
"Dude! Church! Did you hear what I was asking? Do you have any answers? Do you want to yell them at me? Can I video tape it so I have something to yell at me when you decide to completely fuck off the face of the planet again?" Tucker asked, whipping his head back and forth. The action was causing the pressure behind his eyes to build and the dizziness to only intensify, but Tucker didn't care. It was worth it to see his friend again.
Of course, it was a little disheartening to not be rewarded with seeing Church.
"Calm down, your vitals are jumping all over the fucking place," Church snapped.
Tucker squinted. "Vitals?"
"Yeah, I'm haunting your armor. Which fucking sucks, by the way. Why's your chest piece a size too small?"
"Right!? I've been trying to tell people that for ages but no one believes me about how much it chaffs my nipples!" Tucker yelled. "My superior officer always…. told me to shut up and to put matters into my own hands…"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Shut up. And if it bothers you, put matters into your own hands—" Church began to say only to stop short and hum. "Huh. Okay. I get it."
"Yeah, plus I definitely took that advice, and that's why I made my special rock," Tucker informed him. "But it never helped with the nipple stuff."
"Gross," Church replied flatly.
"You had a rock, too!?" Donut cried out excitedly.
"GROSS!" Church repeated. "Okay, seriously, we're derailing from the actually important shit. Which is getting you guys going while I take a momentary snooze."
"Going where? Why the hell would we be going anywhere for you?" Tucker asked. "I can't even see you, dude! It's making it super confusing to talk to you! And what the fuck is this shit about you hiding in my armor!?"
"What? No! I'm not hiding in your armor, I'm haunting it!" Church snapped.
"I don't know, Church! It sounded a lot like hiding from the asshole rather than embracing it to me," Donut corrected, folding his arms. "And trust me, I should know!"
"What!?" Church and Tucker yelled in unison.
"The asshole you were telling me about." Donut clarified.
"Ah, gotcha," Church responded. "Okay, that makes sense."
Hairs prickling on the back of his neck, Tucker raised up his hands over his head. "What the fuck are you doing in my armor!?"
"Oh, calm down. You're so insecure," Church snapped. "I'm haunting your armor. And it's not because I'm hiding from that asshole fucker Agent Washington."
Tucker reached for his helmet achingly. "Agent what? Okay, seriously, Church, I can't concentrate on the bullshit you're saying if I can't see you. It's weirding me out! You sound so fucking close and it's just creepy that I can't see you!"
"Jesus, Tucker, have you never talked on a cellphone before? Fucksake," Church groaned.
Without much more hesitation, however, the former Blue leader presented himself. Or what Tucker could only assume was Church presenting himself. It looked like Church, but in his supposed ghost form — glowing white and transparent. Still in his regular armor and with a sniper rifle.
And also super fucking small, floating just a few feet in front of Tucker's shoulder, like a pirate's parrot waiting to perch.
"Happy? Better be because I'm fucking exhausted after emailing myself here and explaining everything to Donut already," Church snapped. "And making myself visible for the most sensitive guy on the planet is only draining me more!"
"Hey, ladies love the sensitivity," Tucker corrected him.
"Do they? I know I do," Donut added unnecessarily.
Junior tilted his head and gave a signature Bow Chicka Honk Honk.
Tucker, having spent more than enough time in the desert with him, just gave Donut a frustrated glance and shrugged his hands at him expectantly. "Dude, what've I said before?"
"You say a lot of things to me, Tucker, but I usually forget them after Tequila O'Clock, and so do you," Donut reminded him.
"I leave you for a year and you've completely canoodled with the enemy," Church stated flatly to Tucker.
"You mean colluded, and I didn't collude with anyone!" Tucker argued.
"I know what I said and now you're just changing subjects," Church said pointedly.
"Why're you haunting my armor and why are you hiding from this Agent Asshole?" Tucker asked somewhat seriously.
"I just told you I'm exhausted from haunting that email. Why can't you ask Donut? He has the four-one-one," Church argued.
"Uh, because I want to be able to take it seriously and not have… embellishments," Tucker said, eyeing Donut a bit, though the Red seemed far from offended.
"Ugh, forget it," Church groaned. "Long story short, there was a whole lot of bullshit that went down, Agent-Fucking-Washington got me and Caboose together again. We went looking for Tex. Didn't find shit. And then Washington decided to blow up some dead bodies before telling me that Tex and I aren't ghosts but we're computer AIs from this Project Freelancer bullshittery!"
Tucker blinked. "Yeah, checks out," he said flatly. "Wait, is this guy just an asshole because he pointed out the obvious?"
"It's not obvious because it's not true! I'm a ghost and so is Tex, and this entire goddamn planet is the worst kind of purgatory imaginable," Church huffed angrily.
"Ghosts that get downloaded into armor to haunt them, sure," Tucker rolled his eyes.
"Don't fuck with me now, dude, I'm high strung and tired so I need to—"
"Reboot?" Tucker snickered.
"Tucker. I'm telling you, dude, don't fuck with me right now. I just got exploded-dead by Washington already. I don't need any additional bullshit," Church hissed.
"Is that why you're tired and think he's an asshole?" Tucker asked, a note of concern in his voice despite his best efforts to suppress it.
"Oh! This is where it gets really interesting," Donut informed Tucker. He looked like he would have been right at home snacking on some popcorn at that moment.
"No, he's an asshole because he's an asshole," Church affirmed. "And I'm tired because in order to email myself to you before shit went down, I had to use that bastard Wyoming's time-thingy to send me back before I died and, like, thirty minutes before you, coincidentally enough, sent out a distress signal to the building we were exploding."
"Wait… you went back in time?" Tucker asked, baffled. "I'm about to send out an emergency signal!? And what's this bullshit about you exploding a building? Do you need us to go, like, stop that?"
Church let out an annoyed sigh. "Oh my god, you're really not accepting the fact that I'm tired and Donut has all the info you need."
"I've been with Donut for, like, eighteen months, dude. You're my best least-hated friend and I've not talked to you once since all this shit went down." He paused for a moment before frowning at Church's image. "I've missed you."
"Awesome," Church replied flatly. "Noted. Prepare to miss me even more on your guys' way to Valhalla."
"Valhalla?" Tucker asked curiously. "Is that where the explosion is? Wait! Where's Caboose? Do we need to save him? I'm proficient at saving Churches, but that's got a, like, fifty percent less chance of happening if Caboose is around!"
"TUCKER! Let me sleep, goddamn!" Church screeched. "Turning off. Sneak yourself and Donut out of here and start toward Valhalla already before shit goes down."
"Wait!" Tucker cried out only for Church to disappear with an audible click.
He looked at the vacant space where Church had been but as hard as Tucker looked, Church didn't pop back into existence.
Being at least somewhat aware of his father's distress, Junior let out another worried noise before crawling into Tucker's lap. It was a small gesture, but it at least gave Tucker reason to reach out and gently take hold of his son. That hold developed into Tucker protectively picking up the young alien messiah as he knew they were, for better or worse, about to race out into unknown circumstances.
"I don't know what I hate more," Tucker lamented. "How much he randomly disappears on me, or how much he'll just pop back up and ruin a decent goodbye."
Donut's head tilted curiously. "Was that a decent goodbye?"
"Dude, how long have you known Church?" Tucker asked seriously.
"Fair enough!" Donut responded in a rather chipper tone.
Annoyed, Tucker pursed his lips and looked Donut's way. "You realize he really is a computer program, right? Like. That's the only way anything has made sense since Blood Gulch."
The Red hummed and tapped a finger on the chin of his helmet. "Well, it would fill in some holes. But I think it'd leave some others gaping wide open! Just desperate to be filled!"
"Yeah, but it's better than everyone having fucking ghosts but only Church and Tex bother to do anything with them," Tucker pointed out. "You don't see fucking Crunchbite around, bitching about how to raise Junior! If he was, I'd fucking ghostbust him!"
"I think Sarge had a ghost, though, maybe," Donut continued.
"Donut, you're thinking too hard about it," Tucker decided. "Church is totally an AI. Someone could only be programmed to be that annoying."
"So Sarge is programmed too…" Donut gasped. "Tucker! How many people do we know who are just computers?"
"Uh… Lopez… Sheila…" Tucker began listing.
"It's spreading!" Donut yelled out.
"Okay, that's enough," Tucker grunted, shifting Junior in his arms before pushing up to his feet. "Are you coming or not?"
"Oh, I'm always ready to come," Donut replied before spryly leaping to his feet in one smooth motion. "But should we tell the aliens? I mean… we are representing the Peace Corps. And we are taking Space Jesus with us."
"Hey! Don't inflate his ego," Tucker warned, petting Junior's head to the child's annoyance. "I told you, Donut, we Tuckers have naturally inflated egos that make us fucking masters at dishing out what the people want, but also stupid dangerous to flatter. With a much bigger ego, we could take over worlds with charisma alone."
Donut brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Hm, I would like to see evidence of this."
"Can't, too dangerous," Tucker shrugged in response. "Which, by the way, is also why we're not telling these alien assholes we're leaving. Church said that he went back in time because I sent a distress signal from here. Which means we were distressed."
"Makes sense," Donut nodded.
"And what's more distressing than getting turned on by a bunch of conservative nut jobs who want to treat an underaged kid like he's some kind of holy, reverent shit? These guys are totally going to try to kill us!" Tucker decided.
"It must be the one named Clark," Donut gasped, pounding a fist into his right hand. "I knew not to trust someone named Clark! Who's ever been a good guy named Clark!?"
"Superman," Tucker said without hesitation. "Wait, why Clark?"
"Because Church said your emergency mentioned CT, obviously short for the evil known as Clark!" Donut announced.
Tucker merely stared back at the Red. "Donut, if you know that, then you also knew why I was even suggesting we leave without a note! In fact, you know more shit than I do if Church was telling the truth! We're just wasting time here!"
"I think we've been super productive, actually," Donut said, folding his arms. "I really wasn't sold on our motivations until you laid everything out there for me like this. Now I'm totally with this new vision. Not exactly my creative decision, but I like it."
"Okay, forget it, I like flying by the seat of my pants so let's just head to this Valhalla place and figure out things from there," Tucker decided.
"Oh! And while we're on our way, I'll fill you in on what Church didn't mention to you!" Donut replied enthusiastically as he followed Tucker toward the vehicles for their camp.
"He's dead again, this Agent Washington's an asshole, Church wants us in a place that I swore was something those Thor movies made up but apparently not," Tucker listed off. "See? Totally got it."
"Uh, you've got the boring relevant stuff," Donut argued, jumping into the driver's seat. "He didn't even start to tell you what Red Team did on their adventure before exploding the building!"
"Red Team was there? Jesus, how the fuck did that not make it to the summary?" Tucker asked, setting Junior in the seat between them and buckling him in.
"Eh. I'd say narrator's bias," Donut answered.
He started up the Warthog they were in and before the aliens could even stir awake at their camp, Donut was flooring it and they were bounding out of the desert. It was just Tucker's hope beyond hope that along with the Red Team shenanigans, Church managed to also tell Donut how to get to the near mythical Valhalla.
Valhalla, as it turned out, was far enough away from the desert temple that an entire body of water and some grassy knolls were along the way before they even got close.
Whether it was sleep or recharging, Church kept true to his word and was a non-presence for the vast majority of the trip. It kept Tucker's headaches and confusion at bay, but didn't remove the consistent, low hum from the back of his mind throughout the trip. It really was less and less like any haunting Tucker had ever been aware of and more like some kind of computer virus to his whole body.
Though, when he mentioned the analysis out loud to Donut, he was assured that it made absolutely no sense as an analogy.
Donut's own biases, however, were just as self evident.
"And that's why I absolutely cannot believe that Church just left out everything that Sarge, Grif, and Simmons did during the whole adventure! You could really make an argument that they were the whole catalyst for so much of what happened!" Donut argued, driving them through the grassy planes, seemingly oblivious to even the idea that there could have been some sort of pathway or road for them to take instead.
Junior was curled up in Tucker's lap, trying to sleep despite the off roading unease, so big by then that he was half out of Tucker's lap entirely.
"Well, I wouldn't say that it was totally necessary to know everything they did alongside Church, Caboose, and Washington, but it did help make some sense out of all the random elements that came into play," Tucker agreed.
Looking dissatisfied with the compromise, Donut sniffed and tilted his chin up and away from Tucker. "No appreciation for storytelling," he surmised.
"Guess not," Tucker shrugged. He then looked ahead to the direction Donut was guiding them toward. He shifted uncomfortably. "Man. I thought after all that time stuck at that boring temple, seeing some green and life again would be a huge relief but… it's just kinda unsettling to keep driving through more and more wilderness, y'know?"
"Nope, have no idea what you mean," Donut shrugged.
"It's like… at the end of this, are we just going to find some cabin in the woods we have to stay at. Like idiots? And then we do something that unleashes some unholy terror on us? And we're picked off one by one?"
Donut tilted his head. "Huh. That wouldn't take too long. There's only four of us. Three if you and Church count as the same person! Do unholy terrors go after ghosts? I'm not sure. I was never really that religious."
"Fuck if I know. I one time told a girl dressed up like the Virgin Mary that I'd fill her with some Holy Spirits, and next thing I know middle school Tucker isn't allowed in any church in all of Detroit!" Tucker deadpanned. It wasn't the zinger he was hoping for, mostly because Junior was asleep and unavailable for their patented trademark, but also because barely a breath had left his lungs before he was looking ahead and faced with a rather shocking sign laid out before them. He raised up slightly in his seat before settling down again to not disturb Junior. "Whoa! Look how fucking tall that is — holy shit! Are these bases?"
"Yup! Looks like we got to Valhalla — just like Church described, just less destruction. Guess he exaggerated on that part," Donut said cheerfully just before they pulled over another hill and saw the long stretch of grassland between the two bases. Then, suddenly, they were met with several crashed helicopters, vehicles, and scorching fires around each. Also, in the distance, a familiar wrecked ship could be seen. "Whoops! I stand corrected! My bad," Donut added.
"Yeah, this isn't much better than my idea bout the cabin," Tucker said flatly. He looked around just once before a bright white light flickered on over his shoulder, drawing both his and Donut's attention toward it. He raised his brows expectantly. "Well, well. Look who joined the world of the living. Finally. Good sleep, Church?"
"Yeah, I'm back to one hundred percent, you could say," Church replied candidly.
Tucker leaned toward Donut and stage whispered, "Like a battery…"
"Hey, I can hear that, jackass!" he snapped. "Forget that, though, tell me what you guys did about the people who surrounded you."
"What people?" Donut asked.
No sooner had the exchange completed than the distinct sound of multiple guns clicking to lock their triggers could be heard just behind them.
Church flinched. "Ohhhh."
Stiffly, Donut and Tucker both glanced to each other and then slowly raised their hands.
"Church," Tucker said in annoyance, "ghost or computer — doesn't matter. You're, like, the worst wingman."
"Ever. Of all time," Church added.
"What?" Donut asked.
"How the hell did I give you details about every little thing that happened, and didn't remember to explain that?" Church asked with annoyance of his own. But it was far from something Tucker could concentrate on.
The real concern, for the moment at least, was figuring out how to get themselves out of the current disaster. And, hopefully, to find out exactly what the hell was going on.