Not as funny as my other pieces, but I had this in mind for a while. It's gonna probably be a three parter so strap in for the ride. Thanks for all the reviews and keep the feedback coming!
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The trip to Coldfront was always an annoying one for RED team. It involved being cramped in a train compartment with one another, without weapons and only a stack of decade old magazines for entertainment. It was a six hour ride from Process and there were no bathroom breaks (which seemed to bother everyone but Sniper, who had already filled a bottle specifically for jarate). The train ran automatic, the front car consisting of the manual override controls, the middle with the unlucky nine men, and the last with boxes of cargo Miss Pauling told them to unload at Coldfront. Although they were all dressed in uniform, as well as coats, scarves, hats, and gloves to keep out the chill, the mercenaries were noticeably lacking their weapons. They were shipped to the base one day earlier – due to an unfortunate accident during the last train ride that no one wanted to relive, they were seen as a fire hazard.
Thankfully, the trip had been quiet so far, and only one more hour remained until they reached the base. Scout had been napping the entire time, lucky for his team, sprawled out across two seats in the small train car. Across from him, Sniper had pulled out the folding table and was settled on reading one of the shitty magazines he knew word for word. In the seat behind them, Spy scribbling in one of the magazines, a cigarette between his upturned lips.
On the other side of the car, Pyro, Heavy, Engineer, Demoman, and Medic were involved in a card game. Soldier had joined earlier, but dropped out due to the fact that he was a bad liar, and kept getting called out on his bullshit. Instead, he sat by the window, every once and a while thwacking the glass with a rolled up magazine. He sighed. He missed his shovel, and goddammit he had to take a massive piss. Suddenly, there was a screech, and the train pulled to an abrupt stop. There was a lurch forward, then another screech, before the entire thing stopped. Everyone froze.
"We there yet?" grumbled Scout, getting up from the bench he had curled up on, one hand moving to wipe the sleep from his eyes. Soldier sneered as he glared out into the snow. He could barely see anything, and it was definitely not because of his helmet that near-covered half his face.
"I'm pretty sure the trip is longer than this," mumbled Engineer, setting his cards face down on the table and starting to get up from his seat next to Medic. "I'm gonna go check up front to see what's up." The Texan made his way to the front car while everyone else seemed to return to their business. Everyone but Soldier, who was itching for some sort of BLU mercenary to drop in from the roof and attack. Deciding he needed to make the first move, the veteran went over to the end of the train car and slid open the side door, letting in a gust of wind and snow.
"Holy hell!" griped Demoman, looking up from the cards in his hand."Whot are ye doin'?"
"This isn't no ordinary malfunction," Soldier mumbled ominously, jumping out onto the snow as his fellow mercenaries stred after him.
"Get in here. You will get sick," scolded Medic, scowling. That was one thing the medigun couldn't heal, and no way in hell was Medic going to attend to Soldier on cold medication. The patriot didn't listen, glancing around the snowy mountainside. There was nothing in front of the train, but that didn't mean someone hadn't fiddled with the breaks somehow. Behind him, a still smoking Spy dropped down from the car, and took a look around. While Soldier stalked along side the train, eying the roof, Spy bent down and looked under, examining the wheels with a frown. He was really enjoying drawing faces on all those models.
"Hey, would you close that!" snapped Sniper, shugging his coat closer and stashing the magazine in it. "Some of us aren't meant for this weather."
"Mmoo mpheed mpha mphug?"
"Only if a hug is gonna get those wankers to close the door," grumbled out Sniper, one hand on his jarate bottle as some sort of comfort.
"It is not so bad," mumbled the only Russian of the group, gazing out at Soldier's back in the snow. "Could be very much worse."
"Or better," complained Scout, alert and sitting up now, tightening the RED scarf around his neck. "We there or not?" Before anyone could respond, Engineer returned from the front car, the door sliding close behind him.
"I think something on the track caught the wheels. I can't take manual control of the train either, won't budge a darn bit," the man informed, eyebrows furrowed and frowning.
"We can remove the problem from the wheels?" asked Medic, standing up, with some hopefulness. Engineer reached to scratch the back of his head.
"Well, maybe. But the way this thing is built so close to the ground might make that difficult. Especially since we're on the mountainside."
"Maggots!" Soldier literally jumped back up into the car, looking mighty serious. "We have a situation!"
"Well that much is obvious." Spy climbed back up into the car, next to Soldier. "There was an animal on the tracks. Slid under the wheels and bones got caught in gears." He stopped to puff out some smoke. "I believe."
It took Engineer only a few minutes to confirm that animal remains were lodge under the first and second car, but he couldn't quite say how much damage was done. The balding man sighed, pulling his hood of his coat over his beanie. He had a bad feeling. Without his toolbox, he couldn't even begin to fix what was wrong, especially without the train's blueprints.
"Well?" Scout popped his head out of the cart, squinting into the snow that fell. "Can we just roundhouse kick that stupid animal out?" Engineer shook his head, and stepped back into the train car as Scout moved back. The Texan slid the door closed and sighed, feeling the eyes of all his teammates on him.
"Well. The good news is, whatever we hit was definitely an animal." The entire group stared at him. "Not BLU Spy disguised as an animal." There was a chorus of groans and "dammit"s.
"And bad news?" prodded Heavy, now wrapped in his large winter coat and gloves, as the rest of the team.
"I don't think we can move. This train isn't as nice as commuter ones, and I think the animal's bones or antlers or whatever may have done some real damage. Without my tools or any schematics of the train's design, it's going to be too difficult to really fix the damage. " There was silence then, as everyone mulled over what their friend said. Suddenly, Demo screamed, clutching his half-finished Scrumpy bottle to his chest.
"Bloody hell! This is gonna be some Lord of the Flies shit, isn't it?" Everyone immediately turned to give him a raised eyebrow. The cyclops sniffed. "Everyone was thinking it. I just said it."
"I hardly doubt we will find pigs here," remarked Spy dryly. He turned his attention to Engineer. "What are our options?" Before the American could give his input, Scout piped up.
"We huff it! It probably ain't even that far from base, we can make it."
"No way," responded Sniper, pushing his aviators up his nose. It was obvious he held no love for winter or Coldfront. "It's freezing out there. Best to buckle down here until RED sends help." This brought on another ounce of silence, and Sniper frowned, thinking about what he just said.
"On second thought, maybe we should huff it," he mumbled, realizing it was very unlikely RED would care to retrieve them. It was probably cheaper to just hire new mercenaries.
"Mmphw mphr mphis mphit?" questioned Pyro, watching as Engineer unfurled the map he had taken from the front car. The hardhat seemed to trace the tracks and possible routes they could take.
"To be honest, we could make it there before dark. The hard part is really getting past the rest of this mountain," he responded, before looking at the watch under his glove. "That gives us about five hours of daylight."
"Then, let's take a vote!" called Soldier, chest puffed out. "All in favor of walking, raise your hand." It was pretty obvious that if you didn't raise an arm, Soldier would raise it for you. So, it came to no surprise that the group of nine followed the train tracks twenty minutes later, having raided the last cart for anything useful. Most of the boxes contained signs with RED and Coldfront on them, no doubt brand new logos the rotting base was in need of. Luckily, there was one with new drapes, red and thick, which the mercs took no time folding and securing to their bodies with the packing ropes. Right before they left the train for good, Engineer ran to the front cart and retrieved the fire blanket stacked under the control's with a fire extinguisher for emergencies. Clipping it to his belt, the Texan joined his team out into the snow, following the train tracks that were becoming less and less visible as the snow fell.
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"This stinks." No one bothered to respond to Scout's comment as they trekked down the mountain, too busy keeping out the cold. Soldier took the lead with Engineer, consulting the map once and a while, and yelling obscenities to keep the group's morale up. Pyro trailed next, a folded curtain tied to his back, with a downtrodden Sniper who kept one hand on the jarate tied at his hip. Demoman followed after them, similarly with one of the curtains tied around his back, and cradling his alcohol. He was extremely tempted to drink some, but Medic had warned him it would be dangerous in such weather, and stayed at his side, first aid pack around his shoulders, and ready to slap the Scrumpy out of Demo's hand if necessary. Behind them was Heavy, carrying the last curtain and unbothered by the snow whipping into his face with Scout followed in his shadow, seeking protection from the onslaught of the weather. Spy trailed last, smoking, and if not for the snow sprinkling down, one could assume he was having a quaint walk.
Pyro felt it first. A little to close to the edge, the ground beneath him seemed to shake. Then, a sudden gust, and the snow picked up. Blinded, the mercenaries froze, hoping for the sudden escalation in the storm to stop. It didn't and instead they heard a larger rumble.
"Mmplnche!" Pyro had only a second to grab onto Sniper's arm before the snow below him gave in, followed by the a rush of snow from the mountain at their side. The mercenaries were knocked over, and found themselves tumbling down the side of the mountain with a series of yells and screams, and in Scout's case, tears.
By the time the small avalanche had ceased, the group found themselves farther down the mountain, now at the treeline.
"Is everyone okay?" It was Medic who recovered first, and he glanced around for his teammates, one hand moving to adjust the cracked glasses on his nose. Heavy had grabbed him at the last second, providing some sort of cushion for his fall. The large Russian was less than a meter away, shoveling the snow off his body.
"Da. It was small fall." Medic didn't seem any less worried, eyes searching the mass of snow for the others. Even if it wasn't as dangerous as could be, it was still a tumble, and in these conditions that could be dangerous. He heard mumbles next to him, and saw Demo's head pop out of the snow. He immediately threw heaps of snow off of him and started to search the ground with his gloved hands.
"Me scrumpy! Oh hell, I think I dropped it!" The Scottish cyclops continued to search for his only solace, and Medic took that as a sign that he wasn't too badly hurt from the fall if at all.
"Oh God!" Scout struggled to push the snow off, gasping for air. "I think I pissed my pants." He looked very near to crying, yet otherwise seemed unharmed. A few feet away, Sniper and Pyro helped each other out of the snow, having held on as they fell. Sniper wasn't sure if Pyro did it to protect him or if the gasmask'd man just freaked at the last moment. Regardless, they both seemed in good health and got to their feet. Even Sniper's jarate had managed to survive the fall, still tied to his hip, without even a crack in the glass.
"I do believe I am injured." Spy casually scrubbed snow off himself, legs out in front of him. "My ankle." At Medic's brief flash of fear as he made his way over, Spy shook his head.
"Left. It is only a sprain, I believe." Before the doctor could verify, he heard Engineer call him.
"Doc! Solly's bleeding!" In the back of his head, Medic cursed Engineer for being so vague, and hurried over to the right, where Heavy was already at the Americans' sides.
"I'm fine, soldier," a helmet-less Soldier bit up, trying to stand even as Engineer kept his hands on his shoulders. Medic dropped to his knees, examining his red uniformed teammate. There seemed to be a gash in his side, torn through his coat, and blood was all over the snow at his side.
"Keep off, Sally. I'm fine," snapped Soldier, hand idly moving to scratch at the wound, only staining his grey gloves with blood. Medic ignored him, hands moving to see how deep the wound was past the layers of clothing. He barely noticed Heavy consulting Engineer with the map the American had managed to hold onto, pointing at various spots.
"Oh geez," Scout came up behind Medic, watching as the doctor seriously examined the still bleeding wound. "Oh geez." Scout wailed, grabbing the ears of his wool hat and pulling down as if it would calm his nerves.
"Demo was right. This is some Lord of the Frogs shit right here!"
"Get a hold of yourself." Sniper slapped Scout across the face. This seemed to sober the young man up, but he still looked like he was about to break down at any second.
"Go scout ahead. Find some bloody shelter in this shithole," ordered the Australian. Scout, despite his wide eyes, nodded quickly and hurried off, much faster than anyone else on his team. Behind them, Pyro was trying to soothe Demo over the loss of his alcohol, but the Scottish cyclops seemed to only want to lay face down in the snow and wail.
"C'mon Doc, stop being so serious." Soldier's voice was softer than anyone had ever heard, and he now seemed to settle into the snow, eyes half-lidded. "I'm fine. I once put my guts back in and walked twenty miles, I swear it." Medic didn't listen, eyes focused. He must have gotten clipped on the side of a rock. This was too much blood loss. It would need stitching, but as the snow pelted his back, Medic realized there was little surgery he could conduct in this weather. Regardless, giving up was not an option. They were out of respawn's range, and if Soldier died, he was gone for good.
"Doc!" Engineer shook his shoulder. "There's a range of hills less than a mile from here. We might be able to find some sort of overhang or shelter."
"Engie!" As if on cue, Scout tumbled through a line of conifers, breathing hard and red-faced. "I found a cave, down there!" Scout pointed behind him. "It's real close!"
That seemed to be all Medic needed. He shook off his scarf, and with Heavy's help, tied it around Soldier's midsection to cover the wound and staunch the bleeding for a bit.
"Herr Soldier!" Soldier just mumbled something about Nazi scum. Medic slapped him across the face, earning a grunt as the patriot's eyes snapped open. "Stay avake, keep pressure on zhe wound."
"I'm fine, maggot," hissed out Soldier, but he did as he was told, allowing Heavy to pick him up in his arms. "My helmet!" The American feebly pointed to the dark hat covered partially in snow, and Engineer went over to grab it before following Scout who had rushed on ahead.
"What a fun trip this is," Spy drawled as Medic made his way over - he seemed unperturbed by his injury, and had managed to light a cigarette while he waited. The Frenchman allowed the German to put his arm over his shoulder and help him stand. Seeing Medic struggle as Spy's ankle proved to be weaker than thought, Pyro made a move to go help, but Sniper gave him a handwave.
"You're too short. Get Demo up before he drowns us with his tears." With that, the Aussie reached for Spy's other arm, and helped hold him up. Pyro pulled a quiet, alcohol-less, Demoman off the ground, supporting him. The pair then followed after Spy, Sniper, and Medic, the wind picking up as the snow started to fall harder.
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Dramuh! Hope you guys don't mind less lols than before. I look forward to your feedback!