-1Hi.

Decided to go on with this thing, since I'm kinda bored and I feel like I need to make it up to everyone who I made cry D;

Everything belongs to valve. Except my plot ideas…..I think.

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Jeff grasped an underlying branch of the tree next to him as he slumped over to try and regain his breath.

What the hell happened? He thought back to try and recall what happened, though even THAT was tough considering that his mind was moving as fast, if not faster than his feet usually do. To the best of his abilities, he tried to reclaim what happened earlier…

(30 minutes ago)

Jackson was currently staring at his teleporter entrance which he had recently constructed just outside the base in Dustbowl. Usually, he built the entrance just outside the base so that one, his allies could only walk a few steps before taking the RED line express to the front-of-the-battlefield station, and two, so that he wouldn't have to walk back to the base to set it up again. He had made two recent additions to the machine, those being that when he repaired one teleporter, it repaired the other (I'd have to go into detail to explain how he did that, let's just say science is awesome and can do stuff like that) and the other being the improvement of the teleporter's range, so he could transport someone across the globe if the exit was located there.

Recently, they had been moved from Sawmill to Dustbowl due to some flu that had been going around the area. The engineer was more than happy to know that he would be only an hour or so away from his wife and kids, though he was confused as to why they would be "evacuated" as they called it, from an area infected with a minor flu. He asked Wolfgang about it, but the doctor was still annoyed that he would be sent away from precious specimens, so he decided to leave the insane scientist alone. Last he could remember, Jackson had set up a teleporter down at the RED intel, so people going out from the spawn could check up on the intel before heading out, a small habit which the engineer tried to build upon the group ever since their tour through Well.

Okay, so I should probably dismantle this thing before someone steps on it accidentally. Just as he finished that thought though, Jeff bursted through the respawn-doors and immediately saw the teleporter. "Thanks for the ride, hard-hat!" and he was teleported away just before the spy back-stabbed the laborer and sapped his teleporter. An unfortunate consequence of Bill's addition was that when one teleporter was sapped, the other one was sapped as well (more science). And so, Jeff was sent all the way back to Sawmill with no way of getting back, as the teleporter exit was destroyed underneath his feet.

One of the first things Jeff saw after emerging from the intel room with some confusion was a BLU heavy a little ways away from him, looking in the opposite direction and moving rather clumsily. The scout found this as an easy target and dismissed the Heavy weapons Guy's awkward movement, since they always seemed to do that. He sprinted up, pulling out his scattergun, and fired into the guy's arm. Since they were the only two there, Jeff considered having some fun picking at the guy rather than killing him altogether.

What he didn't expect was the Heavy's whole arm to fall off. Jeff's expression of confidence quickly melted into one of fear and disgust as the half-rotted arm fell to the ground. Slowly, Jeff looked up as the heavy turned around to face the scout with animalistic white eyes, blood dripping from his mouth. There was no longer a heavy, only an animal who's only purpose in life was to destroy those whom he once knew and to feast upon their flesh. He was no longer the heavy weapons guy.

He was now a zombie.

One mad swipe with the creature's remaining arm was more than enough to snap the scout out of his entranced fear and make a beeline for the bushes, stopping once he was sure that thing would not confront him again. Jeff took a moment to clear his thoughts and remember back to what the Soldier had told him.

"Alright. People, in this mission your task is to capture the BLU team's intelligence. It looks exactly like our intel, only in a blue briefcase. Now, can anyone tell me what the first thing to do in a war is?"

No one answered.

"RECONAISSANCE! KNOWING THE BATTLEFIELD! That way, you can know just what you're dealing with and how to deal with it! YOU! RIGHT THERE!"

Soldier was pointing to Jeff. He looked around sheepishly. "uhm…me?" The war-veteran rolled his eyes behind his helmet. "No, I'm talking to the other 60 scouts in the room, OF COURSE I'M TALKING TO YOU MAAGGOT!" Jeff recoiled slightly.

"NOW! What is the first thing you do in a battle?!?!" Scout looked to his sides for help. The Spy was too busy smoking and the Pyro was incomprehensible, so he couldn't help anyone. "Uhm…r-reconnaissance?" Soldier stood back with a slightly less intimidating frown. "At least SOMETHING has penetrated that scrawny little skull of yours!" He was about to continue when the scout raised his hand nervously against the raging american. Soldier was not pleased. He hated questions almost as much as he hated the French bastard, but decided to humor the greenhorn. "WHAT is your QUESTION, MAGGOT?!?!"

"Uhm…what do we do if that plan fails?"

Soldier recoiled, having never been asked that question before. But after a minute of thinking, he came up with a solution. "We do what you do best, son."

"Run"

And so Jeff ran.

And Jeff continued to run, the fear of pains worse than death continuing to nip at his heels with each step. Only stopping a few times to catch his breath, this moment being one of them. He looked up wearily at the large plantation house in front of him. Well, there was most likely no one in there….but at least it would be shelter from the rain that seemed to be starting right now…