Winds of Change
By Berry's Ambitions
Chapter 1: It's a Woman's World
A/N: Okay, here it is! The official first chapter. I won't lie - it follows the movie almost exactly. But, like I said, this is the way things are going to be set up for a while. I assure you, the events of this story will stray far from canon.
As for Stump, I'm going to try to keep her personality the way it was in the canon as well. Just because Stump's a girl here doesn't mean she's not Stump anymore, know what I mean? But I assure you that there will be development for everyone (mutants included), much more than what we saw in the film. And, like I said, I'll try to make the military seem more realistic if I can. I'm not expert or anything, but even I know that Wes Craven and co. fudged up some stuff. If you have anything that can help me regarding the army, then please let me know.
The only other significant thing I changed about Stump other than her orignal gender was her age. She's going to be quite a bit younger here than what Stump was in the canon. Hope that doesn't bother anybody. As for the actress I picked to represent our Stump, it's Kat Dennings. Feel free to either google her or check my profile for picture link(s).
I apologize for the rambling. On with the story!
DISCLAIMER: I do not The Hills Have Eyes.
WARNING: Coarse language and crude humour.
Sergeant Millstone was not happy with us.
"A stunning display," he began, "of individual and group stupidity."
Recalling the disastrous battle simulation, I couldn't help but agree with him.
"Seventeen civilians killed, and yourselves." He paused from his pacing to stare us down. "I'm in fucking awe."
I think we all were. I mean, it wasn't every day you encountered crazy bitches with bombs strapped to their chests.
Sarge approached Spitter first. "Cole! Never leave cover to retrieve your helmet! You won't have a head to put it on anyway!"
Amber went next. "Johnson, do not drop your weapon to protect your ears." His voice was deadly calm. "You are better off deaf than dead."
I glanced over at her as he walked away. Although her expression was stoic, I could see the embarrassment reflecting in her pretty blue eyes. Ouch. That was harsh.
"Medina!" Sarge was addressing Crank, who stood next to me, now. "Since you are not Rambo-resurrected, do not charge while your head is securely up your ass. That's how innocent people get killed." Sarge had a point, but I had to admit the whole Rambo-resurrected joke had me holding back snickers.
I prepared myself, convinced he would critique me next, but instead he turned to glare at someone else. "And you, Napoleon." Finally, I thought. The source of the whole problem.
"It's Napoli, Sarge." He sounded tired. Served him right for getting us all blown to bits.
"You're quite the killer, aren't you, Napoleon?" Sarge had blatantly ignored the correction. "Almost got your whole squad blown to hell in six seconds. Now that's an impressive body count for somebody who's against the war."
I swore I misheard the last part. "What?"
"Oh yeah!" Sarge had gone back to pacing. "Your brother didn't tell you?"
Ugh. The last thing I needed was another brother. I stared at Napoleon, feeling a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Was I really hearing things right? Did he really fuck it all up for the rest of his over nothing?
"Pretty-mouth here got himself a bumper sticker!" Sarge faced us directly now. "It says, 'conversation, not confrontation'!"
Crank too was shooting daggers at Napoleon. "What's up with that shit?"
Sarge was up in Napoleon's face again. "You against the war, Doonsebury?"
Despite the fact pretty much everyone here was pissed at him, Napoleon remained level. "Not all wars, Sarge, I just think the president lies too mu-"
"All presidents lie, asshole!" Sarge snapped. "That's their fucking job."
"Yes sergeant."
"No president has told the truth since Truman. And do you know what he said?"
"No, Sarge."
"He said, that the buck stops here!"
Napoleon flinched on the last word.
Sarge went back to his original rant. "Now you have all failed combat, and therefore, officially dead. Congratu-fucking-lations." He clapped sarcastically. I hoped the shame didn't show on my face, but, knowing my pale skin, it probably did. "Fall in at that deuce and a half with all your gear." He pointed over to where he was referring to. "We will deploy to the Agave Ridge rifle range. There you can complete your failure of these exercises by blowin' each other's dead heads off! And, on our way, we're stopping at Sector 16 to deliver equipment to scientists who are working there. This is a top secret area, so do not wander off or talk to anybody. Now get your sorry rookie butts in the back of that truck, now!" The sentence was punctuated by the screech of his whistle. Without missing a beat we began walking single-file towards our destination.
"Let's go! Let's go!" Sarge shouted. "Let's go, Spitter! If I had some steak on a string you'd move real fast!"
Touché.
I adjusted my headband and gazed at the bumpy scenario before us. When I say it was hot, I mean it was really fucking hot. The army uniform really didn't help any, but taking it off was a definite no-no. I'd lived in New Mexico since graduation and had never bothered to visit the desert. Well, at least now I knew what I was missing... or rather, wasn't missing.
I decided that moping around probably wouldn't be the best way to pass the time, so around that point I tuned in to the conversation going on around me.
"Maybe we should thank Napoleon," Mickey was saying. "If we're all officially dead like Sarge said, I won't be tried for war crimes. The killing of innocent mannequins is serious shit."
We all laughed at that one, save Missy. That didn't faze me too much, considering the fact I've never even seen that girl crack a smile.
"Where I come from-" Crank was referring to Mexico, obviously. "-it's never good to be dead."
"Aw, Crank." Mickey grinned good-naturedly. "You're takin' all the fun outta the afterlife."
"Shove the afterlife up your ass," Crank retorted. This earned even more laughter.
"That's cold, man," I giggled, glancing over at Missy again. Now she seemed annoyed. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
Then, on her wrist, I caught a flash out something interesting - and familiar. I reached over to touch it, much to her obvious displeasure. I read the name on the tattoo aloud. "Clyde, huh?" I rolled up my sleeve and held my forearm up to show her my own. "Made the same mistake when I was a kid. So is Clyde still your dude?"
Missy gave me a scornful look. "Uh, yeah Stump, Clyde's still my dude."
Amber chuckled, and Mickey leaned over to me, smirking. "Stump? That's her son. He's like four years old."
It took me a moment to process that. Missy couldn't have been much older than I was. Clearly, this child of hers was not a planned one. I guess that could explain the stick up Missy's ass. "That is so fucked up..."
Mickey laughed once more, and Missy turned to glower at me, her brown eyes flashing. "You know one good thing about being dead? Not having to listen to all your bullshit!"
I cooed at her mockingly, but she didn't acknowledge any of us again. Clearly, a nerve had been hit. Now that was a first. But still, I was kind of reeling over what I'd just found out. Missy? A mother? I bet a piranha had better maternal instincts than she did. Poor Clyde.
"That's all there is out here." Delmar spoke up for the first time. "Just a bunch of bullshit."
"This bullshit's got a crazy past," Napoleon said. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. "You guys know they used to use this as a test ground for A-bombs?"
"You guys know they used to use this a test ground for A-bombs?" Crank sneered. "Who the fuck asked you, peace-ass shit boy?" Obviously he still hadn't gotten over what Napoleon's little revelation back in Kandahar. But, to be honest, I wasn't too keen on Napoleon tagging along myself. If he was just gonna whine and bitch, what was the point? If he was a pacifist, then why did he bother joining the army in the first place?
"Oh, right. I'm sorry. I forgot I was dealing with Rambo-resurrected."
Hmm. Maybe peace-ass shit boy had a backbone after all.
"Rambo-resurrect my balls, bitch."
Mickey and I cracked up. So maybe Napoleon was good for something - bugging Crank and providing amusement for the rest of us.
"You with the pinche puta!" Crank added jeeringly. Now, I have no idea what I said, but, knowing Crank, it was probably R-rated.
Napoleon's retort was also in Spanish, so I didn't quite catch it. But, judging by the fact Crank lost his shit and lunged at the guy, preparing to throw him off the truck, I assume it was pretty bad.
I almost jumped to my feet, ready to intervene. Just because I got a kick of their squabbling didn't mean I wanted Napoleon to wind up with a black eye - or worse.
Amber joined me. "Come on, Crank!" The anxiety apparent on her face.
Our protests went unnoticed. "You want to die young, huh, cabrón?" Crank hissed. Napoleon was literally teetering off the edge. It was official; things had gone too far.
"You guys, stop!" Amber cried.
Again, she was ignored. "I'm gonna kill you right now!" Crank snarled over our protests.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Crank!" I yelled, seriously wondering if having to pry him away was necessary... or worth the risk.
In the nick of time, Delmar shoved Crank away before grabbing him. I watched, wide-eyed. Delmar never got like that. Never. He was supposed to be the calm one, the rock. I admired him for that. But that look in his eyes, that intensity... I have to admit it scared me a little.
"I killed somebody once." The deadly calm of his voice was unnerving. "It was easy. That's what makes it so dangerous."
I exhaled simultaneously as he released Crank. I hadn't even noticed that I was holding my breath...
Crank took his seat, scowling. "I don't fucking like that guy," he grumbled, without a doubt referring to Napoleon.
"Well, I don't like bein' out here havin' to put up with you!" Delmar snapped. "But I deal with it! So deal with it!" He helped Napoleon up.
"Thanks." For someone Crank practically mauled, he was doing okay for himself.
Delmar, praise the Lord, seemed to have returned to normal. "Don't mind Crank. He's just a cranky motherfucker."
Crank made a face.
Looking around, I could see we were arriving. The area was mountainous, and I could hear a bird cawing in the background. It was pretty easy to pick out, considering the fact it was totally silent otherwise.
After what felt like an eternity, we arrived at camp. There was a truck there, and tents, but no scientists.
Climbing out of our vehicle, I remarked to Mickey, "They're so top secret they're invisible, huh?"
"Got that right." But somehow I had a feeling he was as weirded out as I was.
Sarge was too, apparently. "Hello!"
His echo was the only response.
I wandered around, trying to put the pieces together. The whole area was completely barren. I couldn't blame those scientists if they wound up ditching at the last minute. This place was a dead zone. What's so top secret about it anyway? I wondered. Nothing out here but dirt and rocks. What's there to study?
Could they have left before us? No, that didn't make sense either. All their stuff was here. I listened to Spitter attempt to radio base, but I doubted he was having any more luck that I was.
If this was what the rest of my military career was gonna be like, then I wasn't sure if I was so excited anymore.
Still... anything was better than going back to my family.
When it became apparent that I wasn't going to find shit, I gave up and returned to the others. They were gathered around a tent, chattering.
"No gas, sergeant, but I found this," Mickey announced. I saw him hand something to Sarge. "Satellite phone. Must've been how they contacted base."
Leaning closer, I felt my eyes widen. The thing was ripped open, with wires sticking out in every direction. "I don't think it's working," Mickey confessed. That made me smile. If there was one thing that drew me to Mickey Elrod, it was the sense of humour we shared.
Crank was just returning when he noticed the phone. "Man, somebody's got a temper."
...Said the guy who'd threatened the life of his teammate not fifteen or so minutes ago.
"Mine's all buttoned up, Sarge." Crank must've been referring to the place he'd been sent to investigate. "Nobody's home."
The sound of static filled the air. "Who's radio's that?"
"Must be one of theirs." Was I imagining things, or did Sarge sound suspicious? Nevertheless, we continued to listen.
"Wilson? You there?"
We followed the noise to the scientists' truck. Sarge grabbed hold of the radio with Missy in pursuit, most likely to offer help if she could. Sarge spoke into the radio. "Hello?"
A pause. "Who the fuck is this?"
I could've thought of a thousand comebacks for that one, but even I knew that now wasn't the time. Still... what a dick.
"This is Sergeant Jeffrey Millstone of the New Mexico National Guard." Sarge remained professional. "Who is this, and what's your position?"
"I need help."
Delmar and I exchanged glances. I could see that we all wore the same expressions of confusion and even wariness.
The speaker crackled. "I'm up in the hills."
I moved my gaze up towards the place of which he was referring to. Somehow, they didn't seem as boring as they did before.
"Are you in distress?" Sarge demanded.
The answer was too garbled to make out. Sarge cursed. "Spitter, what's the range on these things?"
"Couple miles," Spitter supposed. "Line of sight..."
"Sarge."
We looked up to where Delmar was pointing to see a flicker of light coming from the hills. "Looks like a signal mirror," Delmar explained.
"It's gotta be him," Crank agreed.
Sarge took that moment to think it over. I resisted the urge to fidget.
Finally, the decision was made.
"We're on a search and rescue mission."
A/N: So, how was that? Bad? Good? Half-decent? Either way, I'd love to hear your opinions on this, guys.
On a more random note: I finally got The Hills Have Eyes 2 on DVD after hunting it down for two years! XD Thank you, Grandma! Sure, it's not the unrated version (which sucks, I only get like one special feature...), but it's the thought that counts!