My New Job

I sat there unconsciously twittling my thumbs again while the man sat across from me, studying everything I did through his shades. I glanced around the room, taking in the details, and wondering exactly what was happening when my eyes landed on the man who watched me from four feet away. When I did, I instinctively gave an awkward smile, unsure of what else to do. I guess my behavior since being drafted was unusually strange because I wasn't expecting the blatant question he asked me.

The armored man lowered his shades, let out a subtle laugh, and asked sincerely, "You're not retarded are you?"

The first words spoken by the man caught me rather off guard. So, I gave another dumb grin and said as "normally" as I could, "No… Just very confused."

He gave another slight chuckle and asked, "What's your name, waster?" He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one as he struck a match on his boot.

I declined and said, "Sean… Sean Combs."

I grinned stupidly again, but asked genuinely, "What's happening?"

The armored man gave an even clearer laugh and shook his head, "You're working for Sarah now."

I gave a simple, "Oh?"

The guy said, "Name's Mac by the way..."

He extended a hand, I shook it, and he asked, "Why did Willie vouch for you?"

I had a stupid look of utter confusion on my face and said honestly, "Honestly, I don't know?"

He shrugged, took a drag on the cigarette, stood up, and said, "Well, Willie said you bought a bunch of stuff for the road. Mind if I take a look?"

Mac didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he took my pack from the floor by the cot, emptied it onto the bed, and my drugs from the bottom sprinkled on top of my road gear. He looked at me and asked through held back laughter, "Care to explain?"

I sat there nervously again and frantically searched my mind for an explanation. I didn't even notice him holding back laughter I was so focused on explaining the narcotics. I stuttered, "I'm a… Recovering Jet user..."

Mac stayed silent, the other guards overheard our little chat and approached us. The armed and armored men stood around, lording over me with scowls on their faces when one said, "So, Sarah 'Did' just hire a junkie off the street? That's enough Jet to buy out the general store."

I stuttered, looking for words, and the same guy asked deadly serious, "Do you know what happens to druggies or chem pushers in OUR Outfit?"

I was pretty sure they were going to kill me before Mac couldn't contain it anymore and broke out laughing. Mac shouted through hysteria as the others joined in, "They have WAY more fun! Hahaha!" All of them broke apart with laughter at their supposed inside joke.

I laughed nervously, but felt relieved they didn't want to kill me. I said, "I don't get it?"

Mac laughed himself stable as the others walked away still chuckling to themselves. Mac said, "Don't worry, you will..."

Mac rummaged through my belongings, nodding, and muttering to himself as if he was going down a mental check list. When he was done, he walked across the room, grabbed a chest, and rolled it back to me. He opened it and said, "This is Willie's gear, put it on, aaaand… Hope you're good with a sniper rifle."

He tossed me the long rifle with a dark green tint, military markings, and a large scope with a slightly cracked lens. I spent the next few minutes putting on the armor while Mac wrote stuff down on a dirty notebook. The old school combat vest fit well, and the steel shin guards were snug, but the spiked pauldrons were too big for my shoulders. I slung the bandolier over my chest, pocketed the six magazines, and hung the satchel over my shoulder. I put on the matching sunglasses, somewhat amazed at the new tinted world. I've only wore sunglasses maybe one other time at that point.

I began packing up the scattered contents of my bag when Mac said sincerely but with a hint of sarcasm, "Looking like a real merc now."

I nodded in semi satisfaction and muttered, "Thanks."

I noticed Mac looking at the pistol strapped to my hip and the man asked, "You buy that pistol today?" I gave a nod and he motioned for me to hand it over.

I handed Mac the pistol and he studied it briefly. I took the moment to say, "I wasn't lying earlier, I'm not a drug pusher or junkie… I dilute the stuff to ween myself off it…"

He didn't respond to my statement. Instead, he looked at me with a straight face and effortlessly broke the grip of my pistol in his hand. He pulled the slide off and showed me a sealed barrel. He said, "Old fuck ripped you off. This pistol couldn't kill someone if you beat'em with it…"

It was a fairly cheap pistol when compared with all the other gear I bought, so I responded eloquently with, "Uuuh…"

But he interrupted, "We'll get you a new one. And don't worry, we don't give a shit if you sell drugs or whatever. As long as you can shoot a gun at Actual threats, and not hallucinated monsters; we don't care..."

He paused to look at my ever-present confusion and said, "Still don't get what's happening?"

I nodded, and tried to show I was paying Some attention, "I apparently work for Sarah now, and I'm also the team marksman?"

He let out that subtle laugh again, "Yeah basically. I'll put it simply; Willie got injured a few days ago in a little skirmish outside Redding. Problem is, we already signed on with this escort job before he got nailed. Pricks here at this 'VG' outpost won't let on a team without adequate security. So, you're filling in… Any questions so far?"

I asked the main question on my mind. Detective Paul told me to get away from Redding fast and I didn't really care where we were going. However, curiosity got the better of me and I asked simply, "Where are we going?"

He grinned, "Back home. We got stranded in this fucked up town a couple weeks ago with our last escort job and signed on for the first caravan back to New Reno. Yep, about a full week of straight walking… Depending on resistance and rest stops. Sarah's pretty impatient though, so we'll probably be there in no time…"

I interrupted the guy by asking him, "What are we hauling?"

He leaned back on the bed looking at me, "Good question. I've no fucking idea. We signed on with the Anderson Sisters; supposedly three local trading broads looking to sell some goods in New Reno. If they're anything like the other locals around here, or those dealing with these 'VG' guys, we'll probably be hauling a considerable amount of gold too."

He gave a wink through his shades, "Hence the added protection… Usually don't take five guns to take three broads to the big city, but they got the cash and we want it, Haha."

I asked, "What about Jet?"

He looked baffled at my question and said, "Jet? Looking to get a hookup if your stash runs low? Hahaha! Never heard of a caravan taking Jet Out of Redding, Haha!-"

Suddenly, the radiating angry energy of Sarah entered the room and loud footsteps disrupted the relaxing ambiance of the guard room. Sarah stormed to the center of the room accompanied by three middle aged women I assumed were the "Anderson Sisters."

Everyone looked at Sarah and her voice boomed, "Change of plans, Fuckheads! Get your shit, we're moving out in thirty minutes!"

Mac gave me a motion and "Sarah's Mercenaries" began to get ready for the road.