Author's Note: Sorry for the late upload. I have had less free time than I would've like yesterday. Nonetheless, enjoy!
Monday, April 22nd 2013
The days leading up to a match were always busy. There was the logistics of getting the team, their vehicles, and all the associated equipment needed to operate them to wherever they are needed to go. The further the distance, the more work there is to be done, which in turn, means more headaches that Redwood and Buchanan would have to deal with. Though, at least they are used to such business by now. Yet, this time around, something a little different will be going on.
"Because our upcoming match is all the way in Montana, we'll be arriving in the state the day before the match to not only so we can refresh ourselves after traveling, but also tend to our vehicles one last time prior to the action." Buchanan announced.
Though the match was forthcoming, since it was a Monday, the meeting for today was fairly typical. Most of the team were performing more attentive maintenance than usual as everyone wanted their machines to be at their best come the big day. No one wanted some unforeseen mechanical fault that could potentially compromise a victory. Those that weren't performing maintenance were the commanders, who have met in Room 34 for the usual meeting. There, Ray and Valarie were at the front of the room, each standing at either side of a projector screen. All the commanders sat before them listened intently to the strategy being explained.
"We are, from our starting area, fifteen miles from this abandoned mining town. Ray had suggested a strategy with this town at an earlier meeting and it's something that I agree with completely. This team needs experience fighting in an urban environment. Sure, this little town isn't Berlin or Stalingrad, but it's better than nothing. Because we are closer to the town than the other team, as soon as the match starts, everyone will make a beeline for it. We will take the town and be on the defensive. Some of us will be in the town itself, others will be sentries and be positioned around the outskirts of the town."
"What if they just flat-out ignore the town?" Robin wondered.
"They won't. And even if the very first thing they do is not head to the town, it's a destination that they'll inevitably head towards. The town is the only notable feature on the battlefield. The rest of the area is just a huge grassland with the odd patch of trees. Oh! About the trees! Jacqueline, you will have the SU-14 at this spot, nestled in some trees just five miles from the town. Now, since cover is at a premium at a grassland, the other team will sooner or later figure out we're using the trees as cover for our artillery. So, Robin, you'll be paired up with her to guard her."
Robin and Jacqueline looked at each other and exchanged nodes.
"The flag tank this time around will be mine, the T-44."
"Another flag match?" Marielle moaned.
"When are we going to have an eliminated match?"
Valarie put on a patient smile.
"The national finals will be an elimination match. The ATA makes it like that to make things that more dramatic. But, for now, let's focus on the immediate future. We're in the quarter-finals. Things are going to be more intense…"
She trailed off as she glanced toward Ray who gave her a subtle nod.
"Things were always going to get more intense, that's just the nature of competition. But for our next match, we have to expect that enemy team to treat us…harshly. I've learned recently that at least some of them really don't like the fact that we are a coed team."
The commanders in the room put on confused expressions as if they didn't understand what was being said. Save for one.
"Why would they care? Why would anyone care that we have guys on the team? This is just a sport, just a game." Aurora remarked.
Valarie looked at her specifically.
"Just look at all the marketing for tankery and you'll quickly come to learn that they supremely cater to the fairer sex. In fact, you'll never find a guy shown in advertisements for tankery. This sport is female-dominated to an insane degree, which is odd if you think about it as when men operate tanks they tend to die in them. Anyway, there are some people out there who want the sport to just be for the ladies. Now, I can't say if it's all of the team but some of them most certainly already hate us. And we can us that hate to our advantage."
Valarie turned toward the map and began pointing.
"Ray's tank is part of the sentries posted on the outskirts of town. He will be the most forward position of all the sentries. The idea here is that it'll make the IS-3 look like an isolated, tempting target. And because our opponents are just huge fans of Ray and his crew, they will converge on him and open fire. The heavy armor of the IS-3 will shrug off any and all hits sent in its direction as long as is pike is pointed toward enemy fire. Ray will weather the storm as he radios the team for reinforcement. We back him up and knock-out the tanks shooting at him."
"Uh, I'm a bit, uh, iffy on that part. What if they bring to much firepower?" Natalie questioned
"I'm sure my tank can handle whatever they throw at us. If anything, they are the ones who should be scared." Ray boasted.
Natalie asked no further questions, merely sinking into her seat, concerning still weighing heavily on her mind. The Montana match was causing more anxiety for her here, more than any of the other previous matches. She laid a hand on her stomach as it ached. All these feelings will only get worse as the match draws draw and will definitely skyrocket once it begins. But much like how she acted during the convention, she will not just lay idly by as Ray suffers whatever abuse the other team has in store for him. She'll do whatever she can to support him and beat them back. The commander's meeting came to an end and they all returned to the garage to rejoin with their respective crews. At the T-44, the four girls were tending to their vehicle. On top of the rear of the machine, knelling on top the engine deck, Ashley and Heather were in the middle of a conversation.
"So, you can burn a CD right?" Heather again asked.
"Hey, you don't need my level of computer skill to know how trivial that is. I have software so I can get it done real quick."
Heather was visibly pleased.
"That is great to hear. Mind if I come over to your house to help make it?"
Ashley looked at her for a moment and then nodded eagerly.
"Uh…yeah, yeah! It'll be fun!"
As soon as the meeting ended, Ashley followed Heather to her car where they both got in, seat belts fastened, and engine turned on.
"I don't live too far from the school, my address is—"
"I know where you live. I picked you up when we went to the arcade, remember?"
"Oh…that's right. You actually remember that?"
"I remember everything to the finest detail."
"Damn. That's cool!"
"Yeah, well…not always."
She drove out of the school's parking lot and toward Ashley's home. A short three-minute drive and they promptly arrived. Once parked and out of the car, Ashley took a look at the driveway.
"Looks like my dad is working late today, so you're just meeting my mom today."
Heather's mind ran wild as she tried to picture what Ashley's mother would look like. Many possibilities were created in her head yet none could really prepare her for the person she was about to meet. Entering through the door and taking just a few steps inside, in the living room, was Ashley's mother relaxing on the couch. Her hair worm short and dyed a ghostly white. Her ears and nose were pierced with glimmering silver rings. What was the most-eye catching, though, was the fact that her mother from the neck down was covered with tattoos. Heather's previous idea of Ashley's mother has been shattered. Before, she thought that Ashley, through her appearance, was acting rebellious against her parents as teenagers are known to do. Instead, what she now saw was a daughter emulating her parents. She found it very wholesome in a way.
"Ash, baby, how was school?" her mother asked.
"Ah, you know, same-old same-old. Mom, this is Heather. She's a friend from school and on the team with me."
"Ahh, hello there Heather. My daughter isn't giving you or anyone else too much of a hard time, is she?"
"No, no, no. She's a great friend and is excellent at what she does for the team." Heather replied
"Awesome. So what brings you here? Some kind of class project?"
"Eh, kind of. It's for the team." Ashley answered.
"All right then, best you two get right to it."
Ashley nodded and gestured to Heather to follow. They went down a hallway and into her room, nice and cool as a ceiling fan was whirling just above. Ashley set her backpack on the bed and undid the buttons on her uniform to get comfortable, revealing her usual tank-top underneath. All the while, Heather just stood by the foot at her bed.
"Your mom…" she said.
"Yeah?"
"…has tattoos."
"Yep."
"All over her body, basically."
"MmmHmm."
"That's wicked cool."
"Yeah, she's pretty neat huh?"
Ashley sat at her computer desk and shook a mouse to awaken it. Heather sat right behind on her bed. She watched as Ashley opened a program on her desktop.
"This is some set-up you have here, I mean, two monitors?" Heather commented.
"It looks cool and it does come in handy from time to time."
Heather looked closely at the screen and saw a multitude of icons, most of which she didn't know what function they had.
"I take it that you do more than just watch videos and homework on this thing?"
"No. I do things like photoshop and programming while watching videos. No comment on homework."
"Programming? You code?"
"I dabble. I can certainly do more than just do 'Hello World!' though. Anyway, on to your idea."
"Of course. You got a blank CD around here?"
Ashley opened of the drawers of her desk and rummaged through them. After a bit of digging, she got out a CD ready for data storage.
"Okay, what do you want on this thing?"
"The sound of an old-school telephone ringing, the sound of a grandfather clock chiming, the wails of a baby, and low-quality music from the twenties."
Ashley looked away from her computer and turned to Heather, completely befuddled.
"That is, beyond doubt, the worst mixtape ever imagined. What's the, uh, goal here?"
"I'm taking a page from the CIA here."
"…what?" Ashley again said, still confused.
"During the Vietnam war, the CIA executed Operation Wandering Soul. Exploiting the culture of the Vietnamese of where the dead must be buried in their homeland, they played eerie recordings in the dead of night out in the battlefield of a supposed ghost, pleading to his friends still alive to give up the fight and run away."
Ashley thoughtfully stroked her chin, smiling as she did.
"Ahhh, you want to give them a scare, do you?"
"A damn good one. The goal here is to play the CD from one of the abandoned buildings in the town. Maybe, just maybe, it'll get them to do something stupid, something we can take advantage of."
"That's devious, Heather. I love it!"
Ashley began working on her computer, eagerly clicking and typing away.
"So, how long will it take to make this?" Heather asked.
"Honestly, the longest part of the process will be just finding good sources to rip the audio from."
Heather entered into a smirk.
"Actually, I know just the sources that will work beautifully."
Tuesday
The school was now very deep into prom season. Posters covered every square inch of space, be it on the walls, trees, poles, or lockers. As prom for this year was tank themed, for obvious reasons, all the posters were created in a military-style. They looked like recruitment posters, asking students to 'sign-up' for a night of dancing and general good times. Almost every single member of the team has now committed to going to prom. To them, it was almost as exciting as their match later on in the week. Just one member of the team was planning on not going at all. He was currently at the library doing what he always did for lunch. Reading. Ray didn't care much for prom. He hasn't gone to any of them for the past few years of being at the school, so why start now? Another person on the team, though, had another idea in mind. As soon as lunch started, she headed straight for the library as she knew that was where he always was. Upon arriving, she saw him alone at a table, head buried in a book. Walking right up to him, he didn't notice her presence. What a bookworm, she thought. With the gentle push of her finger, she moved his book down away from him and onto the table.
"You aren't too busy reading to have a little chat, are you?" Natalie asked, all innocent.
Ray glanced down and saw that Natalie still maintained a finger on his book. Not interested to see what would happen if he tried to regain control of his book, he let go of it.
"Um, not really"
"Good. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Natalie then sat down a chair away from him.
"Now, unless you're blind, you've surely noticed all the posters for prom. It's on May 4th. A Saturday."
" A Saturday, huh?" he mused.
"MmmHmm, so there won't be any practice that day because it's a huge event that the school wants everyone to come to."
"Cool, a day-off then."
"Yes, a day-off. Especially after our match all the way in Montana. Appropriate, huh?"
"It does. Just a day where I'll stay home all day."
"Home? Oh, are you not going to prom?" Natalie said, feigning ignorance.
"I'm not really a prom-type of guy."
"Well, almost the entire team is going. Even your friends. Are you telling me you won't go even for them?"
Ray let out a small sigh.
"I've told Valarie this so I might as well tell you. You see, there's this huge expectation to dance at prom and I just don't want to deal with it."
Natalie internally became very pleased. She had anticipated him saying something like that and prepared accordingly.
"Can't dance?" she asked.
"…No, I can't" he admitted.
"Well, just a thought, but, if you could dance, would you be more willing to go?"
Ray thought for a moment.
"Hmm. In that case I might be more willing, yeah. But with my current schedule, I just can't squeeze in a dance class or something."
"It looks like to me that you got free time during lunch. All you seem to do is get lost in some book."
"The school offers a dance class during lunch?"
"Well…not officially. The teacher is quite young and there is only one student."
"One student? That's one hell of a small class. And this teacher, have I seen her before?"
"You have actually, more than you think. It's a student."
"So the teacher is a student that I've seen before. What does she look like?"
"A girl a bit shorter than you, fair skin, with her long black hair done in a low bun."
It didn't take long for Ray at all to find out who this teacher Natalie was describing.
"You're talking about yourself, aren't you? You're the dance teacher. And that student you're referring to is me."
"I'm willing to help you out, Ray. I want you to go to prom. And the best way to make that happen is that if I teach you to dance."
Both of Ray's brows were raised. He did not see that coming at all.
"You want to teach me to dance? Is some a joke or something?"
"No joke. I'm not much of a comedian. I'm being serious here. Will you let me teach you?"
Ray looked down at the table, thinking deeply. He had noticed in the past few months that the relationship between him and Natalie has been steadily improving. The day they met was still fresh in his mind, in vivid detail. From her wanting him and his friends out of the team to now her offering to teach him how to dance. In the back of his mind, he had an idea as to why she was really doing this. Though he wouldn't mention it to her because there was the chance that he misread her intentions which would make things incredibly awkward between the two. He'll play it safe. Real safe.
"Alright, since you're so kindly offering, I accept. So, teacher, when does the first lesson start?"
Natalie rolled her eyes at his humor.
"After the match is when we'll start. We'll spend our lunch period at the backstage of the theater. No one is there during that time so no one will see or interrupt."
"That's fine by me. I don't want anyone to see me making an ass of myself while learning."
Natalie grinned.
"Oh, but I will be seeing you making an ass of yourself. Seeing each of your mistakes and clumsy moves. But that is all part of the process. I'm positive by the end of it you'll be a fine dancer."
Still grinning, she left ray back to his reading. She felt nice and warm inside but kept her emotions in control. This was just teaching a fellow team member how to dance and that was it. It didn't mean anything more. She definitely did not have any other reasons as to why she offered to teach him. It definitely wasn't just to spend time with him and to learn more about who he was as a person. Just dance lessons and nothing more.
Later
At the garage, the next stage of preparations was underway. All of the team's vehicles were being readied for transport. All the equipment affixed to them were being double-checked to ensure they were securely fastened so that they wouldn't fall off, or worse, get damaged while in transit. One particular piece of equipment that above all the team wanted to secure was the ammunition. The loaders of the team made sure that the ammo of their vehicles were firmly in their racks with no chance of them falling out. Not only would them falling cause a mess, but damaged ammo created complications. Damage could be severe enough that ammo just couldn't be fired. And if a shell now made inert was loaded frantically in a time-sensitive situation, the consequences could mean the difference between a victory or a defeat. Though, with Buchanan's strict insistence on safety, the chances were zero that any shell on the team would even get scratched during their journey to Montana. Over at the T-44, Heather has become the most obsessed person on the team to guarantee that their tank had no difficulties whatsoever while being shipped to the match.
"Have the tracks been tightened?" she asked.
"Yes, Heather, three times now. Any more and we'll strip the pins holding them together." Ashley responded, voice slightly annoyed.
Heather looked at the tracks.
"A segment is loose." she said pointing.
"How can you tell from just looking?"
"I just can. Please check it out."
Ashley dragged her feet to the track segment in question. She jiggled it with her hand and to her utter amazement discovered that Heather was correct. The segment was indeed loose. She tightened and look back at her
"How? Just how? That segment didn't look loose at all!"
"When Katanya needs attention, I just know. Much like how a mother knows when her baby needs her."
Ashley eyed her up, highly amused.
"Okay…what does Katanya need now? An oil change?"
Heather answered with a soft smile.
"She's all ready for her next outing. Speaking of what is ready, how about that CD?"
Ashley went off to the area of the garage where everyone's backpack was stored. She found her's and dug out what she was looking for. She went back to Heather and proudly showered her the CD in a clear case.
"Ready to scare!" she proclaimed.
"Nice! And the CD player?" Heather asked.
"The…what?"
"CD player."
"Yeah…uh…I don't have one."
"What do you mean you don't have one? Aren't you the type of person who has one of those things?"
"Well, uh, my computer can play CDs but I'm not dragging the thing all the way to Montana. Do you have one?"
Heather then became red with embarrassment.
"Ah, no…I, uh, stream all my entertainment."
From above, came an answer.
"I have a stereo that plays CDs."
They both looked up, seeing Valarie looking down at them.
"A stereo? We need that." Heather said.
Valarie hopped down.
"Sure, but what for?"
Ashley brandished the CD in front of her.
"Psychological warfare."
Valarie studied the CD with curiosity. Handwritten on it was the single word 'spooky'.
"What is this?"
"A collection of sounds fit for a haunted house." Ashley answered.
Thinking about it further, it clicked for Valarie, getting a smile out of her.
"Ohh, I see. You got the idea because there is an abandoned town on the battlefield."
"It is, indeed, the source of my inspiration. So, if we get a chance can we play the CD to scare the hell out of the enemy team?" Heather suggested.
Valarie pondered her request. Attacking the minds of the opponent was a piece of advice that Bascom's captain, Isabella, had shared with her after the first match of the national tournament.
"That's psychological warfare, girl. Mess with the mind of your opponent to get them to do something stupid."
A valid strategy. And since members of the opposing team have gone out of their way to harass the co-captain, her friend, well, Valarie concluded that giving them a scare was what they deserve. She gave them a nod.
"If there is an opportunity, we're doing it." Valarie declared.
Ashley and Heather exchanged eager glances.
"Awesome! Saturday can't come soon enough!" Ashley exclaimed.
Friday
St. Ignatius, Montana
Midnight
The temperature was frigid and the gusts of bitter wind felt like the blades of knife when they hit bare skin. The town of St. Ignatius was just shy of twenty miles away from the National Bison Range, a refuge for the iconic American bison. It was the place where the ATA has selected as the location for the next match of the national tournament. With a population of just under a thousand, St. Ignatius fit the archetype small American town. For the next few days though, its numbers will temporarily swell as people from all over the country come to match, either to spectate or to take part in it. The town will certainly appreciate all the extra cash all those people will be bringing. Though the match was not till Saturday, one school had already arrived and settled in. In a motel, Old Dominion rested after a lengthy plane trip. While most were fast asleep, a few were wide awake. They quietly slipped out of their rooms and met outside. Three girls, bundled in warm clothing, were discussing what they were about to do.
"No Ellie, Cassandra?" one asked.
"No. She'd be a liability here. Anyway, I hope you all understand what we are doing?"
The two other girls nodded. With a motion of her hand, Cassandra beckoned them to follow.
"Good. Let's get going and do this quick. No idea when Mojave Rose could suddenly arrive."
They walked down the street, following a route that Cassandra was planned out before. They all walked with a determined step, their minds focused on one thing. To 'save' tankery. The streets were still, with the girls being the only ones populating them. Some twenty minutes later and they arrived to a garage surrounded by a chain-link fence. The entire area was incredibly dark with only moonlight barely making things visible. Each of the girls climbed up and over and were now inside the fence. One of the girls turned on a flashlight and aimed it at a door.
"You're up, Jessica."
Approaching the door, Jessica reached into her pocket and got out a lock pick. She then worked on the door and after some time and a bit of force, there was a click and the sound of a door opening. They entered the garage and from the moonlight streaking in through the window, they smiled devilishly as they saw what was before them. The vehicles of Mojave Rose, arriving just the day before.
"Oh, the carnage we can cause…" Cassandra happily said.
"….but we can't over-do with the sabotage."
She already had her first target in mind. Looking around, she found it, parked in a corner.
"The Jagdpanzer IV. The bitch we met at the convention commands that. Let's see what we can do with that, shall we?"
They all went to the Jagdpanzer IV, thinking about what to do with the machine. Cassandra climbed on top of it and opened one of the hatches to take a look inside. Seeing the gun sight, she got an idea of what to do. She hopped inside and toyed with the sights, turning a dial here and there at random. It was totally decalibrated.
"Whoops! Did I do that? My bad." Cassandra remarked in an annoying tone.
She got out and off the Jagdpanzer, contemplating the next target. Not too far from them was the IS-3. Walking towards it with a scowl, she acted like the machine was contaminated with some disease.
"Are we doing anything with the IS-3?" asked Jessica.
Cassandra entered into a demented laugh.
"No,no. We got special plans in store for that thing."
She turned to the vehicle next to the IS-3, the T-44.
"Ah yes, the tank of the captain of Mojave Rose. Ugh. She should've stopped boys from even stepping one foot on a tankery team. She had a responsibility and she completely ignored it. Her heretical practices are what is ruining tankery. She needs to be taught a lesson."
Cassandra noticed a nearby shelf on the wall, filled with all sorts of things one would find in a garage. Walking towards it, she took a look through the shelf. There was something on the shelf that was perfect for what she wanted to do. She picked it up.
"A T-44 runs on diesel, right?" she asked jiggling a fuel can in her hand.
"Yes, yes it does indeed." Jessica answered with a smile.
They went to the tank and drained it of its diesel. They stored it in canisters and hide them away. All three of them began pouring gasoline into the T-44, making spills and spreading fumes. A few empty cans of gas later and the deed was done.
"Once they start their tank, they'll get one hell of a surprise." Cassandra said.
She looked at the time.
"Let's get out of here. The sun is going to rise soon."
They put everything back in its proper place, closed and locked the door they broke in through and climbed the fence back outside. They made their escape back to the hotel.
Noon
With the sun high in the sky, it was still cold but a bit more bearable. Just a few minutes before noon, the Mojave Rose tankery team has finally arrived after a lengthy bus ride from the airport. At a motel, they disembarked and stretched outside. The air was unbelievably crisp and clean. Some of them found it really satisfying to breathe. As the team mingled around, Valarie took Ray aside to speak with him privately.
"Just to let you know, this town only has one motel. So the people who harassed you are for sure inside."
Ray looked anxiously at the motel.
"I can't get a break, can I?" he complained
Valarie gave him a reassuring hug and the team checked in to their motel rooms. They all relaxed in their rooms to rest from all the traveling for a few hours before Buchanan called them to the lobby.
"Alright, we're going to a nearby garage to check-up on our vehicles to give them an inspection before the match tomorrow."
Boarding another bus, the team enjoyed a quick drive to the garage in question. Eager to rejoin the T-44, Heather was the first off the bus and the first waiting at the door as Buchanan hurriedly unlocked the door. All of the crews went to their respective vehicles and began inspecting them. At the T-44, the four girls gave their tank a good look. It looked alright but Heather wanted to hear the engine to see if anything more needed to be done.
"Emma, mind turning on the ignition? Just hold down the clutch while pressing the switch, it's easy." Heather asked.
"Sure thing."
Emma began to walk to the driver's position. As the rest of the crew waited, Heather then sniffed something peculiar. She stepped closer to take another sniff and became deeply confused. She was smelling something that shouldn't be there. Every smell she took in grew her alarm and anxiety. She then happened to look down and spotted a small spill on the floor. Kneeling down, she dipped her fingers into it and brought them to her nose. Smelling the fumes told her what it was, and shook her to her core.
"This isn't diesel! This is gas!" she yelled.
She ran to the front of the tank and saw Emma in the driver's seat. She was just about to start the ignition where Heather than forcefully grabbed her hands to stop her from doing so.
"Heather, you're hurting me." Emma said, slightly scared.
Heather looked at what she was doing and let go.
"Sorry….but something is wrong! There's gas in the tank!"
"Gas? Like gasoline?" Valarie said when she went to the front.
"Yes! The diesel is gone!"
The commotion Heather was causing made everyone turn their heads toward her. Buchanan made her way over there to see what was going on.
"Okay, I hear someone is freaking out about gas."
"Someone filled the tank with gas and not diesel!"
"Are you sure?"
"I am! I can smell it!"
"It must've been a mistake by one of—"
"Bullshit!" Heather interrupted as she slammed her hand against the hull of the T-44
"It wasn't me or anyone else! We all know it takes diesel and only diesel!"
"Heather, you need to calm down. Just empty the fuel tank and fill it back with diesel. The problem will then be solved.
Heather only got more aggravated.
"No! The problem is not solved! Who was here during the night? Is there cameras we can check?"
"Heather, please."
"Someone either fucked up or is fucking with us! We just can't ignore this!"
Buchanan just about had enough of her.
"Heather. Go outside and wait in the bus."
Heather looked at her with a stunned expression.
"What—"
"Go."
"Miss Buchanan—"
"Just go."
Utterly crestfallen, she complied and left the garage. Everyone inside was completely taken aback over what the had just witnessed. They had never seen Heather so upset, or even so emotional. Buchanan let out a disappointed sigh and spoke with Valarie.
"Get this fuel situation sorted out. After that…make sure Heather is alright, okay?"
Valarie solemnly nodded and the rest of her crew got to work replacing the fuel. The team performed their inspections in silence.
That Night
Her friends comforted her the best they could. Valarie had given up her bed so that she could lay on it to relax. Her eyes were closed as she laid her hands on top of her stomach, moving up and down as she took deep breaths.
"You feeling alright, Heather?" Ashley asked softly.
"Kind of." she responded emotionless.
"Hey, you saved the tank. If you didn't catch that there was gas, the engine would've been ruined. We would've got knocked out before the match even started." Valarie said to try and cheer her up.
"Yeah. Guess I did do that."
Heather reached for a blanket and pulled it on top of her.
"I want some sleep. I'm tired."
"Of course."
Valarie, Emma, and Ashley crawled into their makeshift beds and the lights were then turned off. They soon drifted asleep but Heather couldn't. She was being pestered by someone that only she could interact with. The voice has returned and was issuing her commands.
"The garage. Go."
She remained silent.
"The garage. Go.
It's voice grated against her like sandpaper.
"No…" she said in a whisper.
"Your tank needs you."
"No…it's fine. The tank is fine."
"The garage. Go. Now."
Each time the voice issued its command, the more Heather grew weaker at resisting.
"Go."
Heather rose from the bed and quietly put on her uniform. She tip-toed out of the room and made her way outside the motel.
"The garage."
"I know. I'm on my way."
Heather retraced the path of the bus and soon arrived at the garage. Without hesitation, she climbed over the fence and headed for the door. Luckily for her, a student had forgotten to lock the door. Walking inside, she kept the lights off, relying on the moonlight to light her path.
"Now what?"
"Crowbar at the shelf. Grab it."
Heather looked and found the tool. She held it in her hand and felt the weight of it.
"Is my tank in danger?"
"Yes. There are people here who will cause harm to it."
"Where are they?"
"In the office in the far corner. Look."
Heather turned to where the voice told her to. There, she saw an office with a faint light against the window. She saw the outline of two figures inside the office.
"Alright, I see people."
"They are the ones responsible. They need to be punished severely."
"But, how?"
"The answer lies within your hand."
Heather looked at the crowbar in her grasp and swayed it back and forth in the air. She then felt compelled to walk toward the office, making sure each step she made was as quiet as possible. She began to tremble as she got closer.
"One of the people inside will soon walkout. As soon they walk out the door, do what feels right."
Heather was now sweating profusely, her heart rate skyrocketing. She was filled with sheer terror. She was now just beside the door. Crowbar held tightly.
"Just wait. They will come out soon."
Being so close to the office, that Heather could hear their voices. She laid an ear against the wall to hear what the people inside are saying.
"I don't really like be so disciplinarian but I had to do what I did. She was just so angry that she needed to leave to cool off."
"You did the right thing. Heather is one of those students who has, and I'm saying this as respectfully as I can, issues. From what I read from her file, she has this tendency to form intense attachments with objects. It's obvious now that she has formed one hell of a bond with the T-44."
"What can be done then?"
"Well, before today it has been a long while since her last emotional outburst. She's in therapy last I recall, and it is doing wonders. What we can do is simply keep an eye on her. When she needs it, we will help her."
Heather recognized the people talking inside. Then she heard one of them move toward the door. She had no idea what to do.
"Now, here comes your chance. When that door opens, hit them hard."
Her breathing has ceased completely. As the doorknob began to the jiggle, she thought fast and threw the crowbar across the garage, it slamming against the far wall. The door flung open as Redwood looked out.
"Huh? What was that?" he said aloud.
"Did something fall?" Buchanan asked from behind.
"Maybe. I think it was from over there. I'll check it out."
As Redwood started to look at where the sound came from, Heather quickly made her leave. As quietly as she can, she moved from tank to tank and left the garage through the door. As it closed, it made a noise, making both Buchanan and Redwood look at it.
"A window must be letting the wind in." Redwood determined
Outside, Heather was hyperventilating. She leaned against a tree nearby and over time, calmed herself. She wanted to scream but couldn't.
"You almost made me ruin my life." she said in a near whisper.
No response. The silence mocked her. She walked to the fence and climbed over it, and ran back to the motel. Once there she quietly went back to her room and slipped into bed. She couldn't believe what she had nearly done.
Saturday
The match was now upon them. The team got ready for the day ahead of them. In one of the rooms, the T-44 crew got dressed. Looking and heading to the bed, Valarie shook Heather awake.
"Wow, did you fall asleep in your uniform? It's gonna get all wrinkly."
Heather looked down at herself.
"Oh. I forgot I was wearing it."
"Well, you're already good to go then. You can head down to the lobby where the rest of the team is waiting."
"I think I'll stay here for a bit."
"Suit yourself."
Heather laid on the bed starting up at the ceiling as the rest of her friends finished getting ready. Emma and Valarie left the room for the lobby. Ashley stood by the door.
"Alright, let's go."
Heather remained in the bed.
"I want to talk to you about something first."
"Uh, okay."
Ashley moved away from the door and joined Heather on the bed. They sat next to each other.
"I'm just gonna guess and say this is about your little freakout yesterday."
"In a way."
Heather breathed in and out deeply.
"Last night, I snuck out and went to the garage?"
"Oh? Sneaking out? I never would've guessed you were that type of person and they are way better places to sneak off too. Why did you go?"
"Because…I was told too."
Ashley gave her a puzzled look.
"Now that's weird, I know for a fact no one told you to go there. Who did?"
Heather fidgeted with her fingers. She was incredibly nervous, and afraid. Afraid that what she was about to share would make her lose a friend. But what happened last night just couldn't be left to be bottled up in her memories
"I never told anyone this, not even my parents. It was something that I kept to myself and I always thought that it'd always be like that. But after what happened last night, I just can't do that anymore."
She moved to hold on to Ashley's hands.
"I…hear voices sometimes. Voices that want me to do certain things."
Ashley was greatly astonished
"Voices? What do you mean about that?"
"All my life I've heard, seen, smelled, and felt things that no one has. My whole life has been a struggle for maintaining a sense of reality. And to be honest, I've actually been doing that pretty well but sometimes, it gets really really tough. Like last night. A voice told me to go. They told me to hurt someone. And I came real close to doing it."
Ashley looked at her with compassion and squeezed her hands with comfort.
"Heather, I cannot even begin to imagine how much strength it took to admit that. You probably thought that by sharing that would lose me as a friend."
Heather teared up and hugged her.
"I don't want to lose my friends. But I want to be honest with you and not hide something so…severe."
"You will not be abandoned, not by anyone, and sure as hell not by me. You are a strong person, that's what I like about you."
They hugged for several moments before breaking.
"Since you told me, when are you going to Emma and Valarie? They need to know so they can help you." Ashley asked.
"I will tell them soon on my own time. But when I do, I want you by my side."
"I will."
Ashley stood up and patted her pockets. She got out the CD and waved it in front of her.
"Ready?" she said with a playful smile.
Heather too stood up and stretched. She felt this renewed sense of energy and determination. A gentle smile had spread across her face as she walked to the door.
"Yep, let's go. I got a tank to drive and a match to win."