A/N: Hi there! Happy chapter eleven! Oh, I need to tell you guys something. I changed my profile a lot. Check it out. There is a new poll question. Also, there is an important note about FMA Mad Libs. It has been moved to a new site, and you should all check that out too! See my profile for the site! Anyhoo, enjoy the chapter. It is long, and I like it.
P.S. I don't own FMA. But I do own James.
We set out the next day, just after sunrise. The wind was frigid, and I felt like knives were stabbing into the exposed skin on my face. I reached up to pull my collar higher, trying to protect myself from the cold. The long rifle felt heavy and awkward in my hands, but the snowshoes were the worst. I was falling behind the group with every step. I had already tripped several times, but the others had simply stopped, picked me up, and kept moving without a word.
No one in this group would give me issues. They were too grateful and impressed with what I had done.
There was not enough plastic lying around the fort for me to make everyone armor, so I had spent most of the evening trying to come up with a new solution. I eventually experimented enough to create the armor out of fabric. It was difficult to do, but with my alchemy I was able to change their white camouflage uniforms into a flexible, sturdy material. Buccaneer decided to test them. We found out they were bulletproof, like the ice, but you would still get a nasty bruise if you were shot. I had the large purple mark on my arm to prove that. The soldiers liked them though, because they were easy to move around in. They were perfect for the Outer Patrol.
"There they are!" a voice ahead of me said in a hushed whisper that was almost lost in the wind. I looked ahead, but couldn't make anything out in the white. "Everyone down!" the voice demanded. We all dropped to the ground.
I could kind of make out the camp now. There were three men in white huddled together a good distance in front of us. I could see smoke rising up from the center of their huddle. I knew that wasn't a good sign. It meant they didn't care who could see their fire, because they thought they could eliminate any threats.
"Where are the others?" a soldier next to me breathed.
"I have visuals on six," another man whispered. He was scanning the area with binoculars. "I don't know where the others are."
Six? I thought. I looked around, but I could still only see the three.
"We know there are at least nine men in this camp," another voice I recognized as Buccaneer's murmured.
"Nine?" I said a little too loudly.
The soldier next to me grabbed my head and shoved my face into the snow. "Shut up!" he hissed. "Do you want them to know where we are?"
He moved his hand and I looked up. "Sorry," I breathed. "There are only five of us. How are we supposed to fight nine Drachmans?"
"This is why you made us armor," Buccaneer explained.
"I have a visual on number seven," the man with binoculars announced. "He is on our right, three o' clock."
"The right?" Buccaneer asked, looking over.
"Eight is at nine o' clock."
"Why are they spread out like this?" The captain seemed alarmed. "It's like they are flanking us."
Suddenly, the man next to me flinched and cried out in pain. He rolled over and grabbed his leg. "I've been shot!" he said, not bothering to whisper. I was thankful to see that there was no red stain on his uniform. My armor must have worked.
"They know we're here!" the man with the binoculars realized. "We need to get out of here!"
"Everyone get ready to fire!" Buccaneer commanded. "It's the only way out of here!"
We understood what he meant as Drachman soldiers came out of nowhere, completely surrounding us. There were at least fifteen of them.
I sat up and readied my gun, trying to imitate the men next to me, but my hands were shaking, and I couldn't hold it steady.
"Fire at will!" The captain shouted, aiming his own gun.
The other three soldiers obeyed without hesitation, a couple of Drachmans fell.
But I couldn't do it. I just couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger.
I was a soldier. It was my duty to serve my country, to follow my orders no matter what.
But I had spent all of my life protecting people. How could I even think about killing someone?
The sound of gunfire filled the air. I was hunched down, shaking with fear. I heard more shouts of pain and cursing next to me as others were hit, but no one went down. The loud bangs beat against my eardrums mercilessly. I tried in vain to sit up and try to fire, but every time I did, I would become panicked and duck down again.
Suddenly, the world went silent. I looked up to see what had happened. I could no longer see any Drachmans around us. The man with the binoculars was looking around for any sign of movement, but apparently there was nothing.
Buccaneer lowered his gun. "Alright, men. Let's split up and check for survivors."
The others nodded, standing up. They all branched out in different directions, keeping their guns at the ready.
I stood and went in what I assumed was the direction I was supposed to go. I had not gone twenty feet when I came across the first color I had seen since I arrived up North. A man in a white uniform was lying motionless on the ground, covered in a dark red stain that was already beginning to freeze in the unforgiving cold.
I gasped and took a step back. My knees felt weak at the sight of death, but what could I do? These men had been trying to kill us. If he weren't dead, I would have been.
I fell to my knees, brought down by my lack of strength. My arms were limp and my rifle was resting on the ground. I couldn't look away from the dead soldier. I knew that if things had gone differently, the soldier would have been me.
I suddenly heard someone running through the snow ahead of me. I looked up to see a Drachman running straight towards me, brandishing a pistol and an enraged expression. He was holding a red spot on his side and running in a sort of lopsided kind of way.
Surprised, I tried to jump up, but I couldn't feel my legs. I remembered my gun and brought it up to defend myself without thinking.
We pulled the trigger at the same time.
I was punched in the chest just as I saw him stagger back. I grabbed at my jacket as he fell, red blossoming from the wound I had inflicted. I felt something between my hand and my chest, and looked down to find a bullet in my hand. I touched my chest again and flinched at the pain. I must have had a broken rib. I looked at the man. He wasn't moving.
"Major Campbell!" I heard my name and footsteps coming up behind me. One of the men was suddenly at my side. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I . . . I killed him," I managed.
The soldier glanced over at the man lying on the ground, still covered in fresh red paint. "There's nothing else you could have done. He would have killed you. He tried to kill you, by the looks of it." He picked up the bullet I had dropped on the ground next to me. "Come on, Major. Let's get back to the group."
The man helped me up to my feet, which was not fun due to the sharp pain in my chest, and the fact that the rest of me was completely numb.
When we regrouped, I learned that one of the other men had found another survivor, but the Drachman was too injured to attack like the one I had encountered. However, the soldier next to him still had his rifle trained on the man, just in case. I shuddered at this sight, and then cringed at the pain from my broken rib.
"We'll take him back to the fort for questioning," the captain was saying. He turned and looked at me. "Campbell, we saw you were having some trouble over there, so we sent Jenkins. Are you alright?"
"Yes," I lied.
"Okay, let's get back to the fort to report."
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"The good news is, it isn't broken. The bad new is, you bruised it pretty bad." The doctor was examining the black and purple area of my chest. "It should be healed up in a few days, but it is going to hurt for a while. We can bandage it up for you so you can continue with your duties."
"Thank you," I said to her. She set to work wrapping my injury with gauze.
I had noticed how dead my voice had sounded. It was strange. I didn't feel like I was completely myself ever since the incident with the Drachmans. It was like I had left part of myself behind in the snow.
"There you go," the doctor said, handing me my jacket. I nodded to her, thanking her again.
I went down to the Outer Patrol room and found it empty. I went to my new locker and opened it tentatively. I pulled out my snowshoes, trying to avoid looking at the rifle. I sat on the bench and started cleaning the excess snow off of the snowshoes. I had gone straight to the infirmary when we had returned, so I didn't get a chance to put my stuff away properly. I also had no idea what had happened to the Drachman we had captured. I wondered on that as I brushed the snow away.
Once my shoes were clean, I grabbed my white coat. I examined the spot where I had been shot. It looked like there was a tiny scorch mark, but other than that it was perfectly fine. I gave my coat a sad smile. It was the only reason I was still here.
I jumped as I heard footsteps rushing through the hall outside the door. I put my coat away and ran into the hall to see what had happened. Several soldiers were running through the halls towards the ground level entrance. I stopped one of them.
"What's going on?" I asked him.
"There's a new soldier here," he explained impatiently. "We want to see what the Ice Queen will do to scare him." I let him go and he rushed away.
Did she really try to scare the new soldiers for fun? Because that is how it seemed to me. The soldier had made it all seem like a game. Was that all it was to her?
I decided I better go and see what would happen. I didn't see any harm in going to watch.
I followed the sounds of the soldiers' footsteps until I reached a group of people, all trying to peer out into the snow.
At least I'm not the newest person here anymore, I thought to myself. It would be a nice change, not being the greenie.
I managed to push my way through the crowding men and women and see outside. I was shocked by what I saw.
Olivier was standing in the snow, wind whipping through her hair as she made a dramatic speech to . . .
The shock was apparent in my voice and on my face.
"Falman?"
Cliffhanger. Hehe. XD
So go ahead and review now. Then check out the new FMA Mad Libs site. It is run by Half-HeartedShadow, because I gave her my story.
But yeah, please review. I only got two reviews last chapter, and I write faster when you review more. And it makes me happy. See ya next time!
