Chapter 2

The white walls reflected the light of the hospital with almost painful brightness. One wall was lined with a counter that was covered with scalpels, stethoscopes, syringes and many other medical tools. Drawers filled the body of the counter. The adjacent wall was lined with IV stands, heart monitors, and other stands that I didn't recognize.

I was sitting on the hospital bed in the center of the room, sniffing at the slightly sour scent of ammonia that filled the air. It tickled my nose, making me feel like sneezing but not enough to make me sneeze. I unconsciously started to rub my nose with my left hand, but winced at the pain that surged through my arm. I looked down at it. I had wrapped my arm up in a thick cloth once I had gotten back to base, thinking it would help keep it clean from infection. It throbbed painfully, but I did my best to put it out of my mind.

All I wore was a hospital gown, and the thin material wasn't thick enough to keep out the cool air of the room. A chill ran up my spine as the door to the room opened up. A pretty nurse in a white lab coat came in, reading a clipboard that was in her hand. She marked a few things off on the clipboard with a pen, and then set the clipboard on the counter.

She turned to me and flicked her head, tossing some of her auburn hair out of her eyes. "Private Wolfe, I presume," she said, her voice warm and friendly.

I nodded and said, "Yes ma'am. That's me."

She let out a little smile, revealing a set of white teeth. "I'm Linda, and I'll be your doctor for today. If I could see your injury, please?"

I nodded and held out my left arm, unwinding the warm, sticky cloth. Underneath, my skin had a reddish, purplish color to it and it looked like a massive bruise. There were holes the size of pinpoints in a semicircle around the middle of my arm; I guess where the zergling's teeth had penetrated my armor.

Linda gingerly took my arm and examined it, carefully running her delicate fingers all along my arm, noting where her fingers were whenever I winced.

When she was done, she nodded and released my arm, walking over to her counter. She opened a drawer and pulled out two vials; one was filled with a milky substance, and the other contained a clear liquid. She reached for a fat syringe and looked over the tip of the thick needle.

Without turning to me, she said, "I'm going to give you metabolic enhancement coupled with a supply of osteocytes and calcium. Do you understand what that means?"

I racked my brain to give her a somewhat acceptable answer. Maybe I should've paid more attention in school after all…

"Um, I'm gonna guess that it has something to do with healing the bones in my arm," I half asked, half guessed.

An approving smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Very good. This is really an extremely oversimplified explanation, but the osteocytes will boost the number already in your radius and ulna, and the calcium will help strengthen your arm enough as it is. Basically, it'll heal your arm much faster than it would on its own," she said.

I shrugged and said, "I think I should've paid more attention to Anatomy during high school, because I caught about half of that."

A lilting laugh left her and she said, "You're a cute little thing, aren't you?"

I felt my face start to burn with embarrassment and did my best to put it down. "I try to be. It helps every now and then."

She wore a full smile as she turned back around to me, the syringe full of the cloudy white liquid. "Alright, your arm will heal in about twelve hours. The breaks weren't major, just a few fractures. However, there is a drawback; your arm will go through the same amount of pain in those twelve hours that it would in the time that it would take for you to normally heal."

I gave her an uneasy smile. "Three weeks of pain in twelve hours? Piece of cake," I said nervously. She gave me another smile. "A little brave one, too, huh?"

She lifted up my arm and set the tip of the needle on my arm, right in the middle of my arm. "Another bit of bad news is I'm going to have to inject it directly into your bone marrow. This is going to hurt," she warned.

Before I could say anything, she slid the syringe into my arm, and then shoved it into my bone. I couldn't snuff out the cry of pain as the agony exploded, black spots swimming in front of my eyes. I watched as she pushed the head of the syringe down, the cloudy liquid leaking into my arm. Ice flooded into my bones, and it wasn't long until goose bumps appeared on my skin. Despite this, I could feel heat radiate off of my arm and could almost watch it swell.

Linda was quick as she pulled out the syringe, opened up a drawer, and pulled out a roll of cloth similar to what I used to wrap my arm up with. She efficiently wrapped my arm up, tighter than I had and in half the time it took me.

I couldn't stop my arm from shaking as she let it go. "Now, I'm going to give you some medications to help you deal with the pain," she said.

Eventually, my arm was too heavy to hold up, so I let it hang limp by my side. Linda was rifling through a drawer for whatever she was going to give me as I slid off the bed and onto my feet; maybe I would feel better on my feet. Nope, instantly made it worse, I thought as a sudden of wave of vertigo slapped me in the face.

I grabbed the edge of the bed to steady myself as Linda turned back around, four horse pills inside a little baggy lying in her hand. "Here you go. These should knock you out for the better part of the night. Now, I want you to go straight to your bunk and take a day off. Doctor's orders," she said.

I plucked the baggy out of her hand and mumbled out a thanks. She opened the door and reached around the corner and into the hallway. There was an annoying squeaking as she pulled a trolley into the room, my BDU's folded neat on the top tray.

"Now, I hope you can dress yourself," she asked, glancing back at me with a teasing smile.

"Yes ma'am," I answered, not even realizing the bait until it was gone.

"Well then, I'll leave you to it," she said. She turned around in the doorway and said, "Hope to see you soon."

"It'll be way too soon when I do," I muttered under my breath as I dry swallowed the pills. She let out another full laugh and shut the door. Dressing was actually slightly challenging when one of my arms was hanging limp by my side and felt like it was in an inferno of freezing flames. However, I finally finished sliding into my shirt and pants, but left my boots unstrapped; I didn't feel like I had the energy.

I left the hospital room with my arm tucked into my chest, my boots slapping against my legs with every step. The walls were now gray steel that was five foot thick with titanium reinforcing. Even though it was one of the safest buildings to be in, sometimes the knowledge of being in a hallway that was two tons alone made me claustrophobic. Large overhead lights kept every inch of the hallway lit up with white light, banishing any shadows that might've been able to creep into the hallway.

Every now and then, I would have to slump up against the side of the cold walls, feeling as if I didn't have energy. Maybe that was one of the side effects of whatever she gave me. I'd wait until I caught my breath and then continue.

When I finally made it out of the building, I immediately wanted to go back inside to the air conditioned comfort behind me. The dry wind had picked up, swirling dust around the middle of base camp. All of the buildings were set up in a rectangular fashion.

Right next to the medical bay were barracks A through D, each of them able to hold two hundred marines. Next to them was a string landing pads for Wraiths and drop ships to land if need be. The base took a right angle to the left then, and a cluster of supply depots and warehouses lined that portion of the thirty five foot wall that surrounded the encampment. Stacked three rows deep and spreading across the wall in a line of ten, there was enough food processing plants and purifying facilities there to supply an army big enough to fill every centimeter within the base, a full square kilometer. And that was if everybody ate five times a day.

The command center, HQ, was centered along the western wall, the least likely to get attacked. All reports said that the "Zerg" were southern and eastern for the most part, just now beginning to establish a foot hold on Yel-Maros. Three factories towered next to HQ, lights strobing from within the structures has they hurried to repair any machines that were damaged in the last battle.

I didn't feel like looking at the rest of the base, instead daydreaming of the comfort of my nice, springy and hard bunk. I stumbled my way into the dry wind towards my barrack block, block C. Engineers, officers, and other marines ran around me, bustling about to do whatever duties they had.

Someone almost ran me over, and I had to stumble to stay upright. I looked up and saw through the vertigo Sarge, another large cigar stuck out of his mouth. "Rook, what the hell are you doing? You're stumblin' around like you're a thirty pack deep," he said, exhaling cigar smoke right in my face. I didn't even notice it.

"Just got back from the doctor, sir," I mumbled out, struggling to stand up straight and give him a salute. My arm trembled, but my hand finally made it to my temple.

Sarge snapped a salute back to me, and growled, "At ease."

I clasped my hands behind my back, although what I really wanted was to fall asleep right then. I could feel my eyelids fluttering.

Sarge nodded briskly and said, "Yeah. I've had that witch inject me a couple of times before; makes you useless for about twelve days. Might as well head on to your bunk, kid, get some sleep."

"I was on my way, Sarge," I mumbled, barely able to keep my eyes open. I could barely feel my arm as it was.

"Carry on," Sarge growled, and he gave me a crisp salute. I did my best to return it, and kept going on my way. I made it to barrack C and mashed the door release button. The door slid up without a very slight hissing sound. I entered, my unstrapped boots clopping on the floor with metallic snaps. The beds were bunk beds, lining both walls to the very end of the building. There was enough space on either side of the beds for a locker for each marine's belongings and armor. A door on the far wall led into the shower rooms.

I was the fourteenth bunk on the right and on the bottom. I didn't feel like stripping down; I didn't feel like I could make it to my bunk without passing out. I held onto the bed railings for support as I staggered my way to my bunk. The last thing I remember was bouncing on a bunk. I wasn't even sure if it was mine before darkness enveloped me.

I was roughly shaken awake by someone, and I opened my eyes way too soon for my liking. "Hey. Get out of my bunk," someone growled.

I managed to mumble out an apology and roll onto my hands and knees. I straightened myself up to my feet, raising my arms up to stretch out my back. Speaking of arms, I practically tore off the cloth that was wrapped around mine. The bruising was still there and it still felt a little swollen, but all in all it felt pretty solid. I flexed my hand, satisfied.

"Don't you have your own bunk to sleep in," someone said in a thick Russian accent.

I turned around to see Niko, who stood taller than me by at least six inches. The front of his olive green T-shirt was soaked with sweat. His barrel chest was clearly 110 percent muscle, and muscular arms protruded from broad shoulders. He had massive hands, and they looked like they could clamp down on you like a bear trap.

"Oh yeah, man. I'm real sorry. I just went to the doctor yesterday and she gave me some kind of medication. I took them before I left the medical bay, and I was surprised I didn't face plant the floor," I hastily explained.

He nodded and began stripping out of his shirt. I turned and found my bunk the next one down. How sad was that? Five more steps and I would've been in my bed. Oh well.

I opened up my locker to find my pistol where I had set it on the top shelf when I had gotten back. I didn't get the chance to clean it from when I had come back in. I was worried some sand or blood had messed up the firing mechanism.

I took it out and sat down on my bunk, starting to disassemble it. From gritty feel as the slide slipped off of the weapon, I could already tell that it was in bad shape. Out of the top of my head, I saw Niko walk past me and towards the showers, naked as a jay bird and carrying a towel in one of his hands. I continued cleaning my gun, pulling out a gun cleaning kit from the bottom of my locker. Taking a soft cloth from it, I used it to start wiping away from the inside of the slide; dirt and sand littered the cloth in just a few swipes.

The door to the barracks busted open to reveal Lance, Chris, and Rick walking in. There were in their BDU's as well. Rick was smoking a cigarette and cracking up with Lance. Chris was lingering in the back, a quiet smile on his face.

I looked back down at my pistol, moving on to releasing the recoil spring plug. I eased it off, careful to keep the pressure under control so it didn't zip off into a wall.

"Well look who decided to wake up," I heard Rick say. He plopped his butt down beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulders. Smoke billowed up to my nose, a burning smell that I found distasteful and pleasant at the same time.

"Yeah, the doctor gave me something and it knocked me out cold," I said with a chuckle. Rick rolled his eyes, and said, "It's good you woke up, too. Sarge was about to come in here and kick your ass."

I did feel a little tremble of fear, but put on a mock face of shock. "Oh no," I said. They laughed and Lance announced, "I gotta drain the sea monster guys." He took off towards the showers, busted open the door, and yelled, "Niko, you Russian sunuvabitch! Where the hell you been?"

The door shut behind him, and I took a scrub brush to clean out the barrel. Rick's smoke got in my way again, and I waved it away.

"What, you've never smoked before," he asked, breathing a gust of smoke through his nose.

I shook my head and said, "They would never let me at the orphanage."

Rick shook his head and reached into one of chest pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. "That's just damned disgraceful. Here try one of mine."

There was a moment of doubt in the back of my mind. I remembered the images of black lungs and black teeth, and people who had to remove there bottom lips from smoking, dipping, or chewing. The orphanage staff had shown them to me when they had caught me taking a cigarette from somebody. However, given the circumstances, I figured there were worse ways to go.

I put the white cigarette in my mouth, and Rick flipped open a Zippo lighter, lighting it for me. "Now just take a little puff if this is your first time. Don't want you hackin' up a lung on us when you just had a full day of bed rest. What the hell am I supposed to tell Sarge when he comes kickin' my ass for giving you a cigarette?"

I sucked on the filter a bit, and then breathed in deep. Fire seemed to fill my lungs, and let out a couple of muffled coughs. I managed to get myself under control pretty quickly and took another puff. It wasn't as bad as the first hit.

I took it out of my mouth, looking over at Rick. "It's all good," I said with a little smile, ignoring the slight nausea I felt.

"Haha, how ya like that Chris? First cigarette and it's like he's been smokin' for years," he said, looking up at Chris for confirmation. Chris nodded, a little grin tugging at one corner of his lips. Lance came back from the showers and snatched the cigarette out of my mouth, crushing it in his fist.

"What the hell are you smoking that crap for," he demanded. My mouth was wide open, eyes probably bulging out of my sockets.

"If you're gonna smoke, smoke something with a little tradition. Like these Wildhorses," he said, pulling a pack of his own cigarettes from his pants pocket. This cigarette was different, the filter brown with flecks of tan. Lance lit it for me, and I could almost instantly tell a difference. These tasted stronger, more robust somehow. It reminded me of back home when I had run away from the orphanage when I was sixteen; warm country air and rolling hills of grass. Then, the nicotine flooded into my system, making every cell in my body tingle. My head started to swim and buzz. It wasn't an altogether horrible feeling.

When I gave an appreciative "Mmm," Rick threw his hands up in the air, saying, "I can't believe he took yours over mine!"

"That's because nobody likes those shitty Marlboro Light 100's you've got, Rick. It's like licking an ashtray," Chris said. I couldn't help but laughing along with the rest of them. I then realized that that was the first time I had heard Chris speak. His voice was softer than Rick's or Lance's, but carried a strong undertone of authority, or independence, nonetheless. The door to the barracks busted open again, and Sarge walked through.

"Officer on the deck," Lance barked, and we all stood as straight as ramrods in a line, eyes facing forward. Sarge came directly in front of me. He looked me in the eyes, and then glanced at the cigarette still between my lips. The smoke lazily curling up from the tip tickled at my nose, but I didn't dare wipe at my nose. Sarge's eyes were as dark as coal.

"How long have been smoking, kid," he asked.

"First one, sir," I barked out, my voice muffled from keeping the cigarette pinned in between my lips.

"You know that stuff'll kill you one day, right," he asked again.

"I figured there were worse ways to go, sir," I said, doing my best to stare straight ahead.

After a moment, he chuckled and ordered us at ease. "Just take it easy with that for a while. It'll mess with your conditioning if you let it get out of control," he said.

"Yes sir," I said, getting a punch in the shoulder from Rick as we all laughed. I grabbed the cigarette with my first and middle finger, trying to mimic what I had seen from movies. I still didn't know how to flick the ashes off, but I wasn't about to admit that to the rest of the guys. Another puff sent second nicotine chill through my body.

Seeing my confusion at how to get rid of the ashes, Lance showed me how. He made a flicking motion with his thumb and said, "The key is to flick with both your thumb and your fingers at the same time, but hold it near the filter so it doesn't break. There ya go."

I soon had the motion down, and took another hit off the cigarette. Sarge just smiled and shook his head before he said, "Alright, boys. HQ gave us another mission; we're to report to Whiskey Outpost at 0730 hours in the morning. Sounds like there's increased hostile activity in the area, and they want someone to check it out. That's us."

There was a collective "Hooah!" from each of us, and I was surprised to hear my own voice in the mix as well. This raised Sarge's eyebrows and he said, "Kid, you could barely keep your rifle in your hands two days ago, and now you're ready to go back out there?"

"It's like kissing a girl, Sarge," I said, coming up with the first thing that came to mind. "You're so nervous the first time you nearly miss. But you just can't get enough of it after that."

There was an uproar of laughter, and Niko walked out of the showers with a towel wrapped around his waist. Six abs stood out from his stomach, and his chest was glistening with shower water.

Sarge looked over, saw him, and said, "Nikolai Bellic?"

Niko snapped to attention and barked out, "Yes sir, Sergeant!"

"You've been permanently transferred to my unit. Your transfer papers have been signed and are already documented. I'm putting you in Lance's squad."

Niko snapped a crisp salute, nearly yelling, "Sir, yes sir!"

Sarge turned back to us and said, "Now you ladies get along and have a tea party. Ya'll better be best friends by tomorrow. Rook, get yourself another rifle." He then turned on his heel and marched out of the barracks without another word.

Niko walked over to his locker, his chest stuck and proud. "Are you Lance," he asked Lance.

Lance nodded and held out his hand, saying, "That's me, big guy. You're name's Niko?"

Niko shook Lance's hand one hard time and nodded. "Yes. I came from northern Siberia."

Lance's eyebrows rose high as he said, "Well, you're a long way from home, ain't ya?" Niko shrugged with a noncommittal nod and a little smile. Pointing to each of us, Lance then introduced us. "This is Rick, Chris, and John, even though we just call him Rook."

"Yes, we have previously met," Niko said, watching me with a little playful glint in his eyes. "He was sleeping in my bunk when I came in last night."

Rick and Lance started laughing, and even Chris started chuckling. When they were done, Lance looked at us all and said, "Yeah. I think we'll all be good friends."