Author's note:
This chapter will be getting tweaked sooner or later. I wrote most of it in my phone as I am now, so it lacks a few things like dividers. That, and the auto correct feature has probably messed up my grammar in places (as usual).
I'll get that done asap. enjoy the next chapter and feel free to suggest anything you want to see in the next story.
4: Road to Nowhere
Brazil. 0800 hours.
1 hour after the shoot-down.
"So, what's the plan? Is there a plan?" Tracer was getting riled. They'd been walking for what felt like hours, and she couldn't say she felt that they'd made any progress. All of the jungle looked and felt the same to her. And the humidity! This place was driving her crazy. Not to mention how horrid it was trying to walk about with all this dried clay caked onto her. She couldn't wait to get it washed off.
"And where the hell are we going? I'm sure we passed that rock an hour ago..."
Omega turned back to her. He was somewhat happier, having found his rifle lying in the ground ahead. He strode up and picked it up, before turning it over in his hands a few times, before cocking it to check it still worked.
Tracer stopped and glared at him. "The dropship gets whacked like a fly and is probably in a million bits, yet THAT survives..."
He grinned, somewhat maniacally. "Yep. Eileen here has seen her fair share of hard landings too. Just a few dents."
Tracer' stare pierced Omega, and burrowed into the tree behind him. They were in the middle of God-knows-where, with no food, no way of getting backup and no idea what was around them, and here HE was, happy that his BLOODY RIFLE WAS INTACT.
"Are you going to tell me what we're doing or are we just going to wander the fucking jungle for eternity?!"
"Nope." He smiled again, that somewhat maniacal grin he had when he was debating being a prick. "Though I could use the fresh air to walk off some of this concussion. We'll find a cave, and then... you know all those things I said we're stories for another time?" She sighed. "Yes?"
"Well, then we can start getting to know each other better. Come on, I think we're getting close."
She stepped across him and cut him off. How did he know that this WAS south?
"Hang on a bleedin' sec- are you sure that this is the right direction?"
He laughed as bypassed her. "of course. First lesson of survival school. Did you miss that lesson, by any chance?"
"Grrr... I'll get my own back on you later." Naturally, this set him off in a full laughing fit. As he calmed down, he smugly remarked "You? Revenge? Please..."
Tracer snapped. THAT deserved a walloping. She ran at him, aiming to smack him square in the jaw. Her anger turned to shock as he firstly sidestepped her punch, before grabbing her wrist as she sailed past him and sent her sprawling into the undergrowth. Embarrassed, she scrambled to her feetand turned to fight him.
"Good God, who taught you to fight? A drunkard?"
"N-No... Reinhardt did."
"A German, eh?" He chuckled again. "Same thing. Now, shall we stop fighting and start getting this plan on the road?"
"Okay... just one thing."
"Yeah?"
She sighed somewhat.
"Never do that to me again. God forbid back at base, in front of the rest of the team..."
Omega laughed over his shoulder.
"Deal. Now, let's crack on. It's going to get even hotter soon."
"Christ almighty, it gets even HOTTER here? I wish the humidity would sod off already!"
He stopped. "Careful what you wish for-" a loud rumbling boomed out over the canopy. He spun, bringing his rifle to bear on any would-be attacker. None came.
"Oops. Look like you just got your wish. Hope you like tepid showers..."
Tepid shower! What the hell is he on about?
As if to answer her question, the heavens opened and what seemed to be a hundred tons of water fell. Within a minute she was soaked to the bone and her hair had fallen over her eyes, adding to her misery.
Oh. Great, now it's raining too. Can this day get any- actually, I don't wanna know the answer to that. She set off after Omega, who for the amount he seemed to be carrying and the fact that he had been concurred, was moving like water through the jungle.
"Have we found someplace yet?", Lena asked Omega, somewhat defeated.
"What's up with you all of a sudden?". Obviously, he was better than somewhat noticing when things weren't exactly right with other people. Even if he barely knew them.
She sighed. "Well, until today I thought that dying was the worst thing that could happen to somebody. But as it turns out... well, just look at me! I don't think I've been in a more shit state ever!" He had to admit, she wasn't looking awfully rosy: She was soaked through, her legs were still covered in clay, her arms and, to a lesser extent, her face had been scratched by the thorns and other plants they had fought through, her clothes had been torn in places, her hair was matted and in a mess, strands in every direction, and she was freezing cold. shivering.
He put his hand om her shoulder and locked gazes with her. "Don't worry about it. This your first time doing something like this?"
"Trekking through god-knows-where, you mean?"
he huffed slightly in laughter. "Yep. I was just the same on my first sortie out here. You'll get used to it. If you survive."
She punched him, jokingly, in the shoulder.
"I'm kidding, obviously", rolling his eyes at her. That seems to have cheered her up a little, he noted.
As they continued onwards, Tracer thought to ask about the contrails she had seen on bailing out of the stricken ship. "I think I saw jets flying overhead when I jumped out earlier. Do you think someone...".
Omega tilted his head up slightly, and started laughing.
"What? What's so funny about that?"
"Fucking typical- the damn Brazilians must've mistaken us for a drug-runner's ship!" he called back, between fits of laughter.
"Really? We got blown outta the sky by the country we're here to help save?"
he nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. Welcome to why I hate Blacklight ops. Or part of why."
They came across a narrow stream. Omega kocked a stone into it and peered over at the result. He gestured to Tracer to come over to him. She was cautious, guessing he might try and throw her into the stream. Evidently, that wasn't too of his list of ideas.
"I've got an idea, but I doubt you'll like it," he stated, "we could get in the stream. We'll avoid getting shredded by the undergrowth more, and we should find a cave easier. I doubt it's more than waist-deep. Oh, and it should help clean off all of that muck you've still got stuck to you. How's the plan sound?"
She shrugged, weighing up the two options. Ah, what the hell, she concluded, I'm already in rag order. She giggled slightly. and a bath is in order."Yeah, I'm happy to do that. So long as you go first."
Omega nodded. He jumped down off of the bank, before it struck him that the stream was not waist-deep, so much as chest deep. And freezing cold.
"AAH! FUCK, FUCK THAT'S COLD! COLD COLD COLD!"
Tracer couldn't help but laugh. Omega started laughing too: this day may not have gotten off to a great start, but who was to say it had to stay bad?
"Y-your t-t-turn!" He called from the river, shivering somewhat from the shock of the change.
She shrieked as she hit the water. "fuck me that's coold!"
As they move along the stream, Tracer noticed something. "Hey, you didn't say you had a radio with you, you sly bastard!"
"No point, I didn't wanna get your hopes up," he returned over his shoulder as they continued onward "the impact shattered two of the transistors, so it can only receive, not send. It's repairable, but I don't have the parts nor the tools to do it. I don't wanna burn the battery out either. All that works otherwise is the tape player and SARBE."
"SARBE?" Tracer recognised the name but couldn't remember what exactly it was.
"Jee, some pilot you must've been if you never had to use SARBE. It's a Search-And-Rescue BEacon. Hence, SARBE. It sends out a signal allowing whoever uses it to be found, even here.I don't wanna use it unless we come under attack though: as much as the guys back at base will be able to locate us, so will anyone else with a frequency scanner."
"Gotcha. Hey," Tracer called forward, "would that cave up there so?" She pointed to an opening, about 40 feet up a sheer rockface to their right, with a 5-foot ledge protruding out from the entrance.
Omega stopped and brought his rifle up, using the optics to get a better look at it. "Perfect. Nice spot, we'll get up there and then set about making it a bit more homely."
They clambered out of the stream and started making their way toward the cave. Tracer had noticed another unusual thing about Omega: while they were moving up the stream, he barely disturbed the water or made a sound, whereas no matter what she tried she made a noise that was like a dozen operatives charging along the river by comparison.
"You can go first... or has your chest-thingy not started working again yet?"
"Oh, my accelerator? Yeah, it's back up. And why me?"
"Because you can get up there easier. And back again, if it turns out a wildcat lives in there."
"Fine. Wait a second and don't try anything stupid." She blinked up to the ledge, but misjudged her jump slightly. Rather than landing feet-first on the platform, she found herself a few feet above it. She somersaulted and landed, falling heavily on her left side.
"OW! "
"You alright up there?", Omega called up to her.
"Yeah, I'm alright. This cave looks okay. A little dark, but somewhere we can get out of the rain at least. You going to get your backside up here?"
He smiled. Finally, we seem to be getting somewhere with this. Now if only I knew where exactly we are...
"Suits me, I'll get up there now."
holstering his rifle onto the rail on his back, he started climbing.
