Chapter 14: Greet
"Who are you?!" I demanded, aiming the sniper rifle in my palms at the beige soldier's head.
"Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing," the beige soldier replied.
"How fucking convenient," I replied sarcastically, "I'm not going to ask you again. Who. The hell. Are you?" I repeated.
"Well, someone's in a bad mood," the beige soldier extended her hand, "Private Yates, recently deployed rookie and confused as all hell."
Wait a minute, she's a rookie? That could mean...
"Are you from the real world?" I asked her, but not before realizing how dumb that question sounded out loud.
Yates breathed a sigh of relief, "I thought you'd never ask."
I immediately relaxed, "Oh thank Christ," I quickly dropped the sniper rifle to the ground.
"Do you have any idea what the fuck is going on?" Yates asked desperately.
"Um... maybe?" I said hesitantly, remembering the dream I had earlier, "I don't know... it's a long story and I don't think we have much time to talk," the sound of a sniper shot echoed through the canyon followed by Church shouting angrily.
"Shit, you're right," Yates realized, "Okay, here's the plan: we'll meet back on this cliff tonight while everyone's asleep, compare notes and try to figure out what's going on and why we're here, how's that sound?" she asked.
I glanced to my left and spotted three black-armored soldiers running back towards Blue Base, "Fine by me, I'd better get going," I said before picking up the sniper rifle and heading down the cliff.
"And try not to get blown up again!" Yates exclaimed as I started down the cliff.
I couldn't help but smile at Yates' comment as I ran to meet up with the others. I can't believe it, there's someone else in the same situation I'm in, someone from the real world, I almost couldn't wait until nightfall.
Apparently, Tucker noticed the spring in my step as I ran up to join them, "What're you so happy about?" he asked.
"Church died again," I beamed.
/
Yates practically skipped down the cliff she was so happy. Someone else- someone else from the real worldwas in Blood Gultch. True he was on the opposite team, but that little factor didn't affect her joy. Her happiness, however, quickly subsided when she saw Grif and Simmons standing over the body of Sarge. She had been so preoccupied thinking about the green soldier she had forgotten that Sarge had just gotten shot. In the head no less.
Grif beat on Sarge's chest with the butt of his shotgun, trying to revive him with CPR. Yates couldn't help but roll her eyes, of course she knew Sarge would survive, but something inside her told her she shouldn't just stand idly while Grif attempted to give improper treatment to his unconscious sergeant.
"What are you guys doing?" Yates asked as she ran up to the other Reds.
"Sarge got shot," Grif responded flatly in a tone that was abnormally urgent for the orange soldier.
"So you're giving him CPR? With a shotgun?" Yates asked confusedly.
"Hey, if you have a better way to revive him, I'm all ears," Grif replied.
Yates sighed, why am I doing this?
"Don't you guys have like a... medkit or a field kit or something in the base?" Yates asked.
"Ask Simmons, he's basically memorized the entire base," Grif said.
Yates turned to Simmons, who had been watching the conversation play out, "Well?"
"U-um w-well what?" Simmons stuttered.
"Do we have a medkit?!" Yates asked in a tone that was unintentionally a little too cross.
Simmons winced slightly, "Y-yes," he answered as if he was being held hostage.
"Then get me one!" Yates commanded.
"O-okay," Simmons took a couple steps toward the base before he stopped in his tracks and turned to face Yates once more, "Uh, which one though? The one in the kitchen? The one under the sink? The one behind the bathroom mirror? The one-"
"Just get me a medkit!" Yates demanded.
"O-okay!" Simmons squeaked fearfully before running into the base.
Yates turned her attention to Grif, "Grif, take his helmet off."
Grif didn't seem to hear her, instead he continued to beat on Sarge's chest.
"Grif? Grif!" Yates shouted, trying to grab his attention.
Grif didn't respond.
Yates groaned, "Forget it," she said, moving to remove Sarge's helmet herself.
/
The first words Sarge heard as he came to were Grif gleefully shouting, "We did it! We saved Sarge!"
What had happened? Sarge wondered. The last thing he remembered was a loud bang, then he was in the afterlife, then some weird angel wanted 10 bucks from him to get into Heaven. The whole situation just made his head hurt more than it already did. Speaking of his head why did it feel so funny? It was at that moment that Sarge realized his helmet was gone.
He went to move his hand up to his temple before another red-armored hand gripped it, "Woah there, take it easy," the voice of Private Yates said.
Weird, he didn't remember Yates having red armor. That's when Sarge realized it wasn't her armor that was red, it the was the blood covering said armor.
"You're quite the lucky guy, Sarge. The bullet grazed your temple and left a pretty nasty gash but had the bullet gone even a little bit to the left... well, let's just say I'm not sure I would've been able to save you," Yates explained.
"Wha- shot? What're you on about? What happened? And where's my helmet gone?" Sarge asked.
"You were shot in the head, sir! But the rookie here managed to stitch you up and save you! Oh, and here's your helmet," Simmons chirped, clearly happy to see his leader okay. He handed his commander his red-colored helmet with his left hand, the right gripping a slightly bloodied medpack.
"Ah, I see," Sarge grabbed his helmet and slipped it on as he stood up, "Well... um... thank you, Private Yates. Uh... I didn't realize you were a doctor."
Yates let out an uneasy chuckle, "Well... um... not exactly."
"What do you mean?" Grif questioned.
"I-I'm...actually not a doctor, I'm a veterinarian. But you know, tomato tomahto," Yates let out another nervous laugh.
"Er, I'm gonna go wash myself off," Yates said, wishing to escape the stares of shock of the other team members.
/
Kind of a short chapter this time guys, sorry about that. Next one's coming real soon, though.