Summary: She never knew what to feel about what happened. She never knew if people had to fight liked her. Though these last moments she had, all she could do was just . . . Think. Think of all that happened. {Movieverse}
Pairing: OC/Ben Parish (Zombie)
Changes to Character(s): N/A
Spoilers To: 5th Wave Movie/Book
Books Belongs To: Rick Yancey
Type of Story: Chapter-Filled
Quote: "The universe doesn't give you what you ask for with your thoughts - it gives you what you demand with your actions." ~ Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free
A/N: Hi, Fanficters! Sorry for the delay, I had a bad writer's block. To make up the months Cassie missed in the film/book, I'm going to add filler chapters to create a bond in the group.
Elements of the book— Such as schedules, positions, and training— will be added in, but it still will be set in the movieverse. I just didn't want you confused. This scene is based off the actual bits of scenes from the movie. Now, I present to you . . . Chapter Seven: Schedules and Paintball.
~•~ Nicole Haynes/Phoenix ~•~
Months has passed since our first training day and not much has gotten better.
During that time, the adults hadn't arrive. I asked one of the nicer sergeants what had happened to them, and the sergeant said they had died on the way due to humans controlled by Others.
I spent a few weeks along with Sam crying for the loss of our family and friends.
Reznik continued to grill us on every aspect of our lives. From the bed's neatness to our shooting, she would make a big deal out of the smallest things.
"What is this!"
"It's a disgrace for the human race!"
"You're more useful dead, private!"
That was a few nice remarks that she said to us all. That didn't stop any of us from continuing the harsh task ahead . . . It just made us hate her more.
She did this on daily basis.
Most of our schedule went like this.
5:00 - 5:10 a.m.: Wake up and wash up. Dress and make the bunks for our future pains and aches which is quickly followed by a bad tempered Reznik checking our tidiness. She then takes us outside to run three laps.
6:30 a.m.: We eat our food in a crowded mess hall and check our scores on the board for marksmanship, best times, air drills, and two-mile run from the previous day. We were stuck in tenth place for the last few weeks.
7:30 a.m.: Ever since our arrival, training has been Camp Haven's top priority. They had us work and learn techniques for hand-to-hand, basic urban/wild survival, recon, communication, and the use of weapons.
12:00 p.m.: We eat our lunch which is some type of mystery meat. Dumbo would joke about what it's contents could possibly be.
1:00 p.m.: Training seems to never want to end. During this part of the day, we would most of our time on the shooting range in which I tease Zombie on his terrible aim as he does mine.
5:00 p.m.: Our dinner time at our lovely protectors' home. All the food would be canned which consists of peas, meat, and fruit.
6:00 p.m.: As soon as I heard Reznik was our permanent senior drill instructor, I wanted to kill myself then and there. Unfortunately, Reznik— at her squad leader/private time— would yell all she wants and discourage us even farther, and then she would ask us if we had any questions or concerns.
8:30 p.m.: My favorite time of our miserable day. We are free to do anything we want . . . As long as we stay inside. I mostly play cards with Nugget and Teacup, who always bring a smile on my face.
9:30 p.m.: The light are out and we ponder what is currently on our heads until we end up making ourselves sick with confusion.
Sound like fun, right?
We were so use to this schedule that we were confused when they sent us to a set of buildings with squads all around us.
"We decided to reward you for the great amount of work you've accomplished," Reznik shouted. "To make the training even more fun, we will have a game of paintball to test your speed, reactions, and agility in a battlefield."
Murmurs began to fill the air.
"Quiet!" she hissed. "This test will not be easy. Every place you enter will hold a trap that would disqualify your team at any moment. Squad leaders, prepare your troops!"
Flintstone— our squad leader— quickly turned the group towards the weapons table where we each were handed a hard chest body armor, a helmet, and a fully loaded paint gun.
The instructors gave us exactly ten minutes to position ourselves around the area. Flintstone stealthily led us beside one of the building at the northern corners of the arena.
We waited for five minutes, and Flintstone still hasn't said anything.
"What's the plan?" I asked him, frustrated.
"I don't have one at the moment," he muttered quickly.
"You— What?" Zombie said, nearly shouting.
"I didn't plan anything okay," he said, angrily. "I just thought we would . . . Just go for it."
"After months of intense training, you want to 'just go for it'," I said, incredibly. "Are you stupid? If this was a battle—"
"But it's not," he retorted. "This is training not a real war. What do you say we do if you think you're so smart?"
I pursed my lips. "Well, we can't go without one."
"We should create waves," Zombie said, suddenly.
"Waves? I'm sorry to tell you this, Zombie, but we're not the freaking Others!" I half-whisper, half-shouted.
"Not killer Waves," he said, annoyed. "I meant sending groups of people, Phoenix. We'll send two of us as a distraction while the others take them out."
I looked back at Flintstone.
"It's your call."
Flint contemplated the thought before saying," Ok, we'll go with Zombie's idea, but don't forget . . . I'm leader."
After shooting a look at Ben, he separated the group for the operations. An alarm sounded and the games began to take place.
Flintstone and Dumbo scurried across the road when the first shots of paint hit the wall next to them. A boy from Squad 23 shot three more times before they threw themselves behind a pile of rubble.
During this, the rest of the group ran towards the back of barrels behind the boy. Ben shot him causing the private to fall over in surprise. I searched the area as the two boys continued their journey forward.
Shots could be heard from other groups all across the field. The noises kept the group fidgeting from the constant paranoia and adrenaline in our veins.
We continued to run for a couple of feet when someone shouted my name and tackled me into the ground. I look up to see Zombie inches from my face with a scowl.
"You should really look behind you're back once and awhile, Phoenix," he said before pushing himself off me.
I stared at the splash of paint next to us. It meant to hit me, but Zombie . . .
I flushed red from both anger and the close distance from the angry Parish. "Are you sure that was the only reason why you grabbed me?"
He shook his head as he blushed and gestured me at the two defeated figures from the roof of a building. "I think I have a single solid reason."
"Good thing too. You're not really my type," I lied. Of course, you're my type! I liked you since middle school, and can't you see I'm blushing furiously here?
"Sure," he said, rolling his eyes.
I brushed the dirt off my equipment and quickly looked around at the group. Suddenly, I felt a hard thump in my chest. "Where's Nugget?"
Flintstone seemed to noticed my grim expression, for he and Dumbo ran back to us in a fast pace. "What's wrong?" He asked.
"Nugget! Where is he?" I shouted, nervously. "Where is—"
"There!" Ben exclaimed.
He pointed at a building where most of the action took place. Nugget stood confused as he seems to be desperately looking for us.
"I'm going for him," I announced before Ben grabbed my arm. "What, Ben?"
He blinked at the mention of his real name before saying," Going out there is suicide and you know it, Nicole."
I held my breath and spoke as calmly as I could. "A squad sticks together at all times. I— We need to get him."
Ben looked at me and Nugget for a few seconds. He seems to come to a conclusion because he quickly turned to the squad.
"Come on, squad!" he ordered. "Rescue mission starts now."
Flintstone began to protest along with Tank, but the group marched ahead to the desperate boy. The two boys gave up and followed while trying to avoid elimination as the shots started to concentrate on us.
When we got closer, I grabbed Sam quickly, and the group entered the nearest building. We huddled close to the walls and waited for a few minutes.
I looked at Sam.
"What were you thinking wondering around—"
Sam perked up at the sight an object on the floor. He grabbed the Spiderman figure from under a plain bed and presented it to me and Ben.
Ben shouted at the sight of the string when the bed exploded with purple paint covering all the room. The group sat shocked and dripping as a thought repeated itself continuously in my head.
Reznik is going to kill us.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Sorry if it's bad!
Please R&R.
- Soldier Of The Mist.
