After almost two incredibly long hours, the muffled screaming echoing up the concrete hallways subsided, and was consumed by an eerie and all too empty silence. She sat there, gazing into the crackling fire, the heat gently pulsing on her face and drawing out the pains and aches that dominated her body. The gentle, swirling yellow and orange hues glistened and gleamed gently off the immaculately polished metal of the heavy revolver sitting comfortably in her gloved hands. They were almost dwarfed by the pommel; the coloured man across the fire knew as much, and stared longingly at the pristine handgun.
She sat there, transfixed, her mind empty as a whiteboard before a lecture. All the knowledge and processes she would need to handle during the day were currently absent, leaving her with a peculiar and brilliant-white anomaly where no thought or idea spawned. This was what fatigue truly felt like.
She had been told to sleep, and had tried; unfortunately, the chronic and haunting echoes of the interrogation seeped out of the cracks in the steel door and reverberated around the artificial rooms of the plant, pinning her to consciousness, unable to break away into sleep. When Blufor had come out to refill his buckets the third time, she gave up trying to kid herself and meandered lazily back to the fire, poking and prodding it and tossing the odd piece of kindling on it until it flickered up again to warm her gently with its glow. Upon seeing her take point, Carlos had also given up the fight and sat silently opposite her until the screams petered out.
Somewhere behind her, a door opened, although she couldn't discern where. The small noise was accompanied by heavy breathing and low mumbling, although most noticeably, the footfall of combat boots on cold concrete. She listened absently for their approach, but realised the worst when she heard muffled heaving and two muffled, corpse-like splashes that could only mean one thing. The Watcher had gone in there after he'd removed her… was he responsible for this?
She tried to convince herself that their deaths didn't matter, that they were just pawns in the great game that Adam was playing, but ever since they'd left Evelynn in the woodland chalet, the methods the Watcher and his colleagues employed had only seemed to grow increasingly visceral with each passing hour. She hadn't realised what a polar effect the scientist had on the veteran.
She only hoped that Amber was in a retrievable situation.
Joel sat next to her, with Blufor and Adam taking residence on the concrete floor surrounding the fire. Her guardian smiled at her dully, his wrinkled faced almost as fatigued as hers, and then gazed into the fire. No one spoke.
"Did you get what you wanted?" She asked, shattering the silence. Nobody reacted to her inquiry, and she was on the verge of asking more forcefully when Adam picked himself up, and in one swift movement, placed a small and black rectangular device on the floor in front of him. He knelt, and slipped a dilapidated tape into the recorder. Upon gently pushing a small button, a whirring emanated from the device, followed by a sickening gurgling, the quality lessened by the microphone in the recorder. They'd documented the interrogation.
"Day 349, 2/5/36." A voice remarkably similar to Adam's spoke between gurgles. "Interrogation of two Martydom soldiers on whereabouts of Amber White. File will be documented for further use at the Watcher's discretion."
"Stop, fuck, stop, please, I-" The gurgling continued.
"Shut it." A voice akin to Joel's spoke. "Speak when you're spoken to."
"The fuck do you want, man?" More gurgling.
A large crisp slap was heard.
"Easy." Blufor spoke. "You don't want to talk to he other guy? That's just fine. Needless to say, you'll spill for us."
A pause.
"Where are you keeping her?"
"I told you, I can't say! Simon would rip me apart, that fucker is crazy. More than Dubrovnik. More than Pyotr! Do you even got a clue who you're fucking with?"
"We'll solve that problem later." Blufor continued. "For now, tell us where Amber is being kept."
"I can't! He'll fucking-"
"Kill you?" Joel intervened. A knife was heard sliding out of its sheath.
"You're not in the best of spots to be complaining about dying, son." Joel said again.
"No!" The man screamed. "I can't! I can't, for fuck's sake, please…"
Rushing water was heard, hand in hand with the muffled choking that accompanied it.
Adam leaned down and pressed another button, speeding the interrogation forward. They tuned in again about an hour further through, although the context of the conversation was entirely the same. The complexity, however, had drastically decreased.
The gurgling, again.
"Where's Amber?" Blufor screamed.
"I'm not telling you, you fuck!"
The water rushed over the towel, and the victim choked and spluttered furiously. The voice was a different one to the guard she'd seen being questioned as she left; a dull whimpering could be heard in the background, presumably from him.
"Where's Amber?" Blufor bellowed again.
"Fuck you!"
This one was tougher, she noted.
The last of the water in the bucket was heard falling on the man's face, and onto the floor.
"Where's Amber?" A third time.
The man started laughing, almost insanely.
"What? You think I ain't been interrogated before? You're getting nothing out of me, pig shit. Just keep pouring; the water's fine."
Blufor started another bucket. Ellie winced slightly at the second guard's resistance to the torture; Carlos had told her that the technique had been used to simulate the feeling of drowning, and completely destroy the victim's mental fortitude without actually harming them. She imagined it to be a horrendous experience; what the hell had that guard done to treat this like a walk in the park?
"Where's Amber?" Blufor asked, his voice low, and his tone more pertinent than before.
"When Simon gets to you," The guard began, spitting out remaining water in his mouth, "He ain't just gonna kill you. He's gonna rip you limb from limb, he's gonna roast you up and serve you to Clickers! He's gonna fucking destroy you, and there ain't anything you can-"
The minuscule speakers on the tape recorder maxed out from a noise that could only have been a gunshot.
"What the fuck? No!"The first guard shouted, his voice pathetic and quivering with fear.
There was a noticeable and eerie pause.
"Adam?" She heard Joel ask quietly. Blufor was silent.
She was taken aback by what she'd just heard. She cautiously raised her eyes to the Scotsman, fear rising in her throat. He didn't meet her gaze, and only stared into the swirling flames on the floor in front of him. There was an unusual expression on his face… was it a smile?
The recording continued.
"Bring him up here." The Watcher demanded, his voice pure poison, and possibly the most menacing thing she'd heard in a long time.
Small consternation echoed out of the speaker as the first guard was thrown into the tiny metal chair, his friend's corpse being strewn lazily on the floor. Handcuffs clicked, and the interrogation proceeded.
"I'm sick of playing games." Adam spoke, stressing the consonants on each word. "You tell me where Amber is being held. Now."
"The old shipyards, down off 44! It's about a hundred miles West, but it's dangerous as fuck, there's-"
"Freelance Mercenaries operating in that area, right?" Blufor interjected.
"Yeah!" The guard started again. "They have a base somewhere around there, we couldn't find it, but… fuck, there, that's what you wanted!"
"Thank you."Adam said sarcastically.
"Yeah, whatever, now just please let me-"
More choking. Was it the water boarding again?
The metal chair fell backwards with an immensely loud crash, and the guard exhaled for the last time.
Footsteps were heard moving toward the recording device.
"Interrogation completed." Adam spoke. "Location of Amber roughly 100 miles West of Eagle's Nest. Confirmed Martyrdom activity in that area, as well as possible intervention by freelance mercenaries."
The recording stopped, and the little tape player froze, now sitting lifelessly next to its owner.
Adam had killed them both, in cold blood.
"So where're we headed?" Joel asked, interrupting her fear-ridden thoughts.
"West, like the guy said." Blufor replied.
"What's waiting for us out there?" Carlos contributed.
"I don't know." Adam contributed. "Although we'd be stupid to think it'd be safe."
"He talked about a lot of activity in that area, from Martyrdom." Blufor told Joel.
It was her turn to inquire.
"What kind of activity?"
Blufor shrugged. "The usual. Hunting. Looting. Raping. What the red-rings do best."
"And freelance mercenaries." Adam muttered. "That's going to be a whole other dynamic."
"I agree." Blufor leaned forward. "We need to be careful here, Adam. The guy sounded as if it were World War Three over there. If these mercs get in our way-"
"Why not work with them?" Ellie piped up, causing the four men around the fire to shoot her curious glances in equal succession.
"How do you mean?" Adam inquired, intrigued. She smiled, but refused to meet his gaze. He didn't seem to notice.
"If they hate the red-rings too," she began, looking at the floor, "then they might work with us to fuck up their operations." She looked up to Blufor, looking past the Watcher.
"Might be they even help us save Amber."
The squad-mate mulled the situation for a moment.
"I like it." He said, smiling. "Adam?"
"I agree." Adam replied. "But, on one condition."
"And that is?"
"We don't disrupt their operations. We kill them." He looked at Ellie. "All of them."
She glanced down sharply in fear of her gaze. She was frightened deeply by the expression floating around in those yellow-stained emerald eyes.
"Adam…" Blufor began.
"No." He interjected. "All of them. They don't deserve to live."
Joel spoke up. "I'm thinkin' the same." His comment brought a wry smile from the Watcher.
Blufor dodged the comment and changed the subject.
"There's a city in the vicinity of the area the guard disclosed; without a doubt, that'll be the place I guarantee we'll find both red-rings and mercs. But, there'll also be-"
"Infected." Carlos muttered, his chestnut-brown eyes fixed on the fire.
"Yes. And a lot of them."
They sat in silence for a moment, none of them making eye contact with anybody else. She felt enraged and fearful of Adam, and the tension between them was almost palpable. She hoped he was ignorant to its existence; she was in no mind to see him tip over the edge, like the two unfortunate guards had witnessed moments before their deaths.
"We still got the problem of transport." Joel spoke. "A hundred miles ain't exactly a morning stroll."
"That's true." Blufor admitted. "Any thoughts, Adam?"
"We'll need something big, especially if we're going up against resistance."
He turned to his squadmate.
"You were on the inside for a lot longer than I was. What kind of armament does the Eagle's Nest have?"
Blufor's eyes lit up at the premonition Adam was alluding to.
"A few jeeps, and humvees. I was helping Amber was fix up an old Little Bird before the red-rings' capture, but it's nowhere near flyable." He thought for another moment. "There's an LAV hidden in compound. We stowed it in the basement of one of the warehouses. There may be a chance that they haven't found it."
Adam reacted with surprise.
"What, functioning?"
"Yeah." Blufor responded. "It was pretty beaten up when we found it, but we repped it up pretty good."
"Weaponry?"
"Two M240B mounted LMGs. Front and rear."
"No cannon?"
"No, unfortunately. It'd rusted out long before we found the vehicle."
"That's a shame. Could've used a 20mm AP gun."
Blufor chuckled.
"True enough."
"So, we're going for this LAV?" Joel inquired, his business face sliding on, and the calm, quiet Joel taking a backseat, letting the hardened survivor take the reins.
"It's a good plan, I'll admit." Blufor started. "Provided that we can get to the LAV without detection. Once were in control, there's not a hell of a lot they can do, so long as we bug out nice and quickly."
"Then, West?"
"Then West."
"All right." The Scotsman projected, standing back up to his maximum height, of which was now more intimidating than comforting. "What are we waiting for? Let's go."
"Now?" Carlos asked, almost stuttering at the premise. "You can't expect us to go back now, man!"
Adam stopped in his tracks, and a cold look of displeasure flashed across his face.
"I wasn't asking." He growled menacingly toward the dark man.
"It ain't dark, it's early morning." Joel added, bolstering Carlos' argument. "We sure as hell won't be sneaking in there."
The Watcher shrugged.
"We don't need to sneak."
"Come again?" Joel inquired.
He scooped some kindling up from the side of the fire.
"Sticks, remember?"
Joel sighed, and she remembered the two guards they'd spent the evening with, and how easily they'd bought Adam's ruse.
Carlos caught on to Adam's meaning and immediately objected.
"So, what?" He began, irritation in his tone. "You're gonna take us in as prisoners-"
"Yes." Adam idly interrupted.
"Without asking us first-"
"Yes." He interrupted again.
Carlos sat there in a daze, pausing for a moment.
"We only got outta there yesterday." He spoke, a lot more quietly than he had before. "They almost killed us. The fuck, man?"
"You got a better idea?" Blufor piped up, taking his old friend's side in the argument.
"I..." Carlos began. "I guess not."
"Well, then." The Scotsman stood and swung open the rusted metal fire-escape that led into the sprawling natural habitat above. The orifice opened, and bright, yellow-white sunlight careered down the concrete stairway and into the room, its brightness dwarfing that which the small fire produced.
Carlos sighed, shot Ellie a look that said 'here we go again', and made his way out of the door. Blufor followed suit, and then Joel left her side, sliding out of the doorway and into the morning sun.
She felt the sensation of her legs lifting her, despite her not remembering to tell them to stand. She moved slowly past the fire, but found herself halted adjacent to the Watcher.
He looked at her quizzically for a moment.
"Is there something wrong?" He asked politely, a warm smile stretching his face.
She met his gaze, and felt a small droplet of water leave her eye and cascade down her cheek. His expression immediately changed from courteous happiness to confused concern.
"You..." She began, stumbling over the words as she tried to form them. "You killed them."
His face tightened, now. "Ellie," He began, "you have to understand. These men don't deserve to live, the things they've done, they've-"
He went to place his hand on her shoulder, but she met his arm with her fist, and threw it away. Her hand throbbed afterwards, and she debated whether the big man had even felt her blow.
"Don't touch me!" She shouted, to see him rear backwards slightly. "Don't fucking touch me. You talk about integrity and mercy, and you shot them! You just fucking shot them."
"They were red rings."
"They were people!"
"Horrible people. Rapists and murderers!"
"No, Adam." She said, preparing her coup de grace. "You're the murderer."
Had she done too much? Been to harsh? Anger spread rapidly through the Scotsman's features, contorting his face brutally.
She managed to pluck up the courage to continue. "What would Evelynn think?"
He leaned in to her, close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his heavy breathing on her face. His glass-green eyes burned with anger, their yellow flecks visible, accusing her.
"Evelynn isn't here." His tone spoke volumes about his anger. That all too familiar sinking feeling crept up her stomach and into her chest.
He turned swiftly, placed the balaclava over his head and exited the plant, slamming the metal door forcibly as he left. He pulled it shut so hard that the hinges screamed, and for a moment, she thought they were going to rip themselves out of the wall entirely and come flying at her, as punishment for what she had just said to him. After a moments hesitation, she sighed, scooped the gleaming .44 Magnum off of the bench where she'd been seated, and followed him out of the door. By the time she'd reached the top of the stairwell, he had stormed ahead, past Blufor and Carlos, his assault rifle slung over his back and swaying from side to side as he strode away.
Joel was waiting for her, leaning on an old, rusted handrail.
"You okay?" He asked. She wondered how much of their argument he had overheard.
"Fine." She lied. "I'm fine, Joel."
He accepted her response, although it was obvious he didn't believe her. She walked past him, not desiring to continue the conversation. To her surprise, he followed her and matched her rapid pace.
"I know when something ain't right, kiddo. What's bothering you?"
She paused for a moment. Should she tell him?
No. If it came down to Joel against Adam... she wasn't sure if any of them would make it out alive.
"What I said to you the other day..." She lied again. "It was wrong of me. I shouldn't ever have said that to you, I... I know how much you've sacrificed to keep me safe."
He smiled warmly at her.
"Don't sweat it. Everyone has their spats at each other now and again. I certainly ain't gonna think anything of it."
"Thanks, Joel."
"It's okay."
They trudged through the warm and moist forest floor littered with yellowing leaves, and breathed in the cool, crystalline autumn air. It was a cold morning, but not unpleasantly so; even though she was comfortable, she wondered how far North they had strayed – it was considerably warmer back at Jackson. Another thing she missed. They walked quietly together for a few minutes, before Joel struck up conversation again. It was pleasantly unusual for him to be chatty.
"So what do you think?" He asked her.
"What?" She replied, unsure of his meaning.
"What do you think?" He asked again. "Of this, the whole situation."
She shrugged.
"I don't know. I mean, it's been a long time since we found people like these."
"What, ones who don't shoot you on sight?"
"Barring the red-rings, yeah."
He huffed slightly.
"That all?"
"No." She admitted. "I miss Jackson. I do. I miss Tommy, and the kids, and the horses, and everything. Don't get me wrong, Adam and Evelynn are swell, but... it's not the same."
"I hear you." He lifted a log for her to squeeze underneath, the dense and damp wood a light weight in his capable hands. She moved herself under deftly, and held it up for Joel as he quickly slid under and relinquished it from her grip. She didn't drop it; she was getting stronger, and he knew that. He smiled at her proudly, and continued walking, almost caught up to the other three men.
"Do you miss them?"
He looked at her funny.
"Of course I miss them. He's my brother, I miss him every day."
"Then why'd we leave?"
He cast his eyes downwards.
"Ellie..."
"Please?" She asked. "Please tell me."
"It's... it's not exactly a pleasant story."
"I'd like to hear it."
He inhaled, and then exhaled deeply, his breath clouding in the cool morning air. She saw his brow furrow as he remembered the details of his narrative.
"It began a long time before I met you. Probably before you were even born."
"Just after the outbreak?"
"Yeah." He said, continuing forward. "It was just Tommy and I. He never was that great at anything physical; he was the smart one. So, I had to keep him safe as best I could. Starting off, I was pretty similar to how Adam is now, but... the reality is, the nice guys are all dead."
"You don't mean that."
"I do." He countered. "In this world, Ellie, there ain't nothing that's personal. You shoot first, or you die."
"I get that, but..." Her thoughts turned back to Adam gunning down the two captive guards, and her voice trailed off.
He stopped. "But we had to leave, because I had that mindset and Tommy didn't. I'm the soldier, and he? He's the civilian. The family man, if you like. I found myself... almost wanting to get in trouble. It weren't right. That's when I knew I had to leave there, and I sure as hell weren't leaving you behind."
"Why not?" She asked, confused.
He ruffled her hair. She was nearly as tall as he was now, coming up to his shoulders. It was almost an effort for him to show affection in the manner he wanted to.
"We have too much fun, you and I."
She chuckled. "I guess so."
They stood there for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of the air between them once again being cleared. She had never known her father, but she was adamant that Joel was better than he'd ever been.
The bliss was shattered by the Watcher's arrival.
"We're about five minutes out." He said bluntly, still apparently scorned from their earlier argument. His balaclava was back on, concealing his identity, and his had slung the weathered assault rifle down into his hands. She glanced at the safety, and swallowed when she saw it was off. She didn't expect Adam to do anything hostile towards her or Joel, but... after their clash, she wasn't convinced that he wouldn't, either.
"In front of me." He said. "They may have men in the forest."
The stood in front of the Scotsman and began walking, with him following closely behind. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up at his presence, and was immensely relieved when they caught up to Blufor and Carlos, who took their places and separated her from the Watcher and his assault rifle. Needless to say, she was beginning to understand the fear of him that the nearby area held.
A few minutes passed with nothing to document, until Adam lifted his radio to his face, and again slipped into the ruse of Sticks.
"Martyr Base, Martyr base, over."
The radio crackled into life, and he held it closely to his face, the damaged grey assault rifle hanging loosely in his right hand.
"This is Martyr Base, over."
"Sticks, reporting in. Four escaped captives in custody. They ambushed us and killed the two who were manning the gate last night."
"Shit, Simon was wondering where they'd gotten to. You have the situation under control, over?"
"Affirmative."
"Alright, bring them in. We'll throw them in the cells with the other-"
"No." Adam interjected. "This is personal. Let me take them to Warehouse 3 for some... negotiations."
A strange noise echoed out of the speaker, that could only have been a sigh.
"All right." The radio spoke. "Take them there. Just keep them alive, you know Simon doesn't want deaths."
"That's fine." Adam replied. "Keep the big guy off my tail, okay? He won't exactly condone my methods but... trust me. They deserve it."
"He always did have a weak stomach. Use the West Gate, sticks."
"Will do. Sticks out."
He slipped the radio back onto his lapel with a swift movement, and pulled the assault rifle back up into shooting position.
"All right, that's sorted. Weapons down here, please."
Carlos put down one of the sniper rifles, a torn expression on his face, and Blufor laid the second one down on the fauna-covered forest floor, adjacent to the first. Joel slipped a 9mm pistol out of his belt, and stowed it in a hollowed-out log beside them.
Upon rising, Blufor questioned his comrade.
"How did you know we had three warehouses?"
Adam shrugged. "I didn't." He followed the statement with a wry smile.
"Which one's the LAV in?" Carlos inquired, his voice slightly quivering. "I don't wanna bump into Simon again."
"It's underneath Warehouse 2." Blufor confirmed. "No one goes in it, it's structurally unsound. We shouldn't have too much trouble there."
"All right." Adam said, gesturing towards the thinning forest. "Everyone ready?"
Joel let out a quiet sigh.
"As ready as we'll ever be." He murmured. Adam didn't hear, or chose to ignore the comment. He moved forward, and she and the others followed, with Adam trailing closely behind.
The bush began to recede, and shrubs gave way to cool, short green grass. Her boots were moistened by the morning dew, and she revelled in the relaxing air while she still could; they were about to re-enter the Dragon's den, and she had a hunch they wouldn't be as lucky the second time around. Eventually, they arrived at the forest's perimeter, and the same, ugly, grey, damp-ridden walls slid into sight.
They emerged into the clearing, and Adam shoved the barrel of his gun into Blufor's back, ushering him into the clearing. Luckily, the squadmate predicted the gesture, and mocked pain as he jumped forward, raising his hands. Joel mimicked him, and she and Carlos followed suit. Adam moved to her side, and raised his hand to the gate.
There were two guards on post; one of whom had obviously been there all night, and had almost jumped out of his skin when his colleague had roused him from sleep to raise their guns at the group.
"You one of ours?" The guard who'd been awake hollered.
"Sure am." Adam replied, his American accent proving to be consistently convincing.
"All right, bring them in."
The guard turned and spoke into his radio as Adam ushered them forward. The rusted and dilapidated steel gate swung open, the spikes on its front receding as it peeled away from the cinder-block perimeter wall. Behind it stood another three red-rings, their weapons all trained on the captives.
Before she knew it, they were passing through, underneath the gate, and back into the throng of the Eagle's Nest. In the distance, she hear muffled voices, some louder than others, advertising; the morning market must be in full swing by now. She was shocked that the civilian population were still ignorant to the infamy of the group that had silently conquered their home.
She found suddenly that she had walked astray, and quickly jumped back to the group, looking upwards and receiving a piercing look from two of the by-standing soldiers. She faked a look of fear, and hobbled away from them, hoping that they'd bought her show.
They passed the mingling guards, and she heard the tell-tale sound of the gate swinging shut behind them. There was no turning back now. She observed her surroundings, absorbing their route as she went. At one point, she thought she saw a familiar face staring at her, and tried to get a closer look. The young woman had turned away from her when she took her second glance, and as a result she was unable to confirm her identity. She couldn't shake the feeling that they'd met before, though, and not pleasantly.
Adam walked a little faster, bringing his body into the group to address them.
"We're in, good work. Keep the acting up. Now we've just got to head over to that warehouse, and we'll plough our way out of here."
The market was visible to their right, colourful and vibrant and odd-smelling, with wares being bartered for left right and centre. Stores sold ammunition, weaponry, clothing, meat, bread, and much more. Women and children frequented the event, although there were also a large amount of men; although, she noticed none were between the age of twenty and fifty – they were most likely residing in the cells.
"What about the market?" She gestured to her right. "We just gonna plough through that?"
"No." Adam whispered forcefully. "Only if we have to. My plan is to head straight out the North Gate, up past the old fuel depots, and then-"
The scotsman's head shot up at an inhuman speed, followed by hers and the rest of the groups', as they observed the gargantuan man stride around the corner, accompanied by two lackeys.
"Sticks!" The mammoth man shouted, laughing, his voice thick with southern tones. "I heard you were back! It's good to see you."
"Simon!" Adam feigned happiness at the sight of the brute. She realised that this Simon was the same one she'd overheard in the prison cell two days prior... he was the commander of this operation, and a fearful one at that.
"Heard you had a bit of a situation last night! We lost two men, did we not?"
"We sure did." Adam admitted. "Turns out they don't shoot straight when they're drunk."
The huge man ran a shovel-sized hand over his white-blonde crew-cut. A large vein stuck out in his forehead, and his muscles bulged out from underneath his tank-top; where Adam's muscle was aesthetic as well as strong, Simon's was simply grotesque. Still, she didn't exactly savour the thought of having him chase her down a corridor.
Simon chuckled, and brought Adam in for a tight embrace. She was dully surprised that the bear-hug hadn't broken Adam's ribs.
"Well, it's good to have you back. I need good men like you!"
"Yes sir." Adam spoke timidly, stepping back from the embrace and dusting himself off. She quickly averted her gaze to the floor when Simon's melon-sized head turned its focus on her and the others.
"I heard you were taking them to the warehouse?"
"Yeah, I was." Adam replied. "You should've seen what they did to the others, Simon. They don't deserve to just be locked up."
She saw the big man shudder slightly at the premonition of torture. Apparently, the civilised and collected Simon that presented himself for the majority of the time wasn't a fan of blood and gore. She had no doubt, however, that his enraged side loved the stuff.
"All right, I trust your judgement." He said. "But I want them alive, you hear?"
"Of course." Adam nodded courteously.
With that, Simon smiled a toothy grin that only made his stern face even uglier to behold. He moved past the group, and with his lackeys in tow, made his way over the the bustle of guards they'd left behind at that gate.
Adam immediately motioned them to move when the brute had passed them by. They began to walk away from the noise, until the clutter and sound of the street market became muffled, and then faded entirely. They rounded several corners, past rusted storage containers and barrels, crates and electrical transformers, and other debris; it took them almost as long to find the warehouses as it had taken to get to the town from the pump station.
Upon arrival in the industrial complex, she stared upwards in awe at the three huge structures before her. Steel gurders held up vast tracts of corrugated iron, some of which may have been nearly thirty meters in length; the sheer scale of the buildings was what surprised her most. She been in cities before, and seen all the colossal structures there, but... it was almost hard to believe that people had enough stuff to fill three buildings meant only for possessions. She only owned a handful of things, and they were always on her person.
They approached the buildings, only to find the first was locked and barred from the exterior.
Joel moved forward and shook the chains barring the double-door, in vain hope that they'd relinquish under his movement.
"We ain't getting in here." He stated.
Adam stood in silence, until Blufor took up residence beside him and negated his worries.
"There, do you see that?" He gestured towards an old hatch to their left, almost covered over by the rising grasses. The dark-green metal was only just visible.
"The hatch?"
"Yeah." He confirmed. "That drops down into a corridor that leads to the basements. It's how the workmen would get in when they didn't want to open the garage doors in the front. Amber and I keep the helicopter in Warehouse 1."
"The helicopter." Joel said, confirming the existence of the vehicle. "What's say the red-rings didn't finish what you two started?"
Blufor glanced around the dilapidated compound.
"No, they would'nt have the supplies. Plus, they haven't even been here yet. The barricades on the doors were put here by Amber, just over a month back."
"Thank god for that." Adam said, moving over the the metal plate in the ground. Upon arrival, instead of simply leaning down and examining the hatch, he straightened up and turned to Blufor, his face plastered with concern.
"What is it?" Blufor inquired, breaking the silence.
"It's not been locked. No bolts, nothing. Yet the chains and planks barring all the main doors are relatively knew, are they not?"
"He's right, there could be someone around." Joel confirmed, turning to Blufor. "There ain't much point in turning back now, though."
The squadmate sighed.
"All right, we'll chance it. You first, Gunny."
Adam did as bid, and deftly removed the hatch-lid from its hold, placing it silently on the grass next to him, and lowered himself, slowly, into the blackness of the corridor below. There was a brief moment of silence, and an echoing thud as he hit the floor.
"Watch out." His voice reverberated out of the hole, just loudly enough to be audible. "It's a two meter drop."
His face came into view in the hole, lit by the meagre supply of light the sun gave. Carlos followed next, traversing the obstacle in silence, and standing in the hole, with Adam, without so much as uttering a word. Blufor went down afterwards, and raised his hands back through the hole, gesturing to her.
"You next, Ellie."
Joel picked her up, and gently eased her down the hatch, and she thought she was going to fall until Blufor's definite and strong hands clasped around her knees, lowering her into the darkness. She moved out of the way, and Joel jumped in after her, swaying slightly from the drop, and leaving the hatch open. No one seemed to notice, and she let the matter slide.
Carlos took a flashlight out of his backpack, and flicked it on illuminating the eerie space. The corridor extended out in front of them, into pitch-black darkness, and from this perspective it appeared infinite. There were small rooms to their left, almost like offices, and she heard the scurrying of rats, disturbed by the unusual human presence. At one point, she thought she'd heard voices behind her, but dismissed the idea as ridiculous.
They strode slowly down the corridor and bypassed the entry to Warehouse 1's basement, a large, push-bar double door with reinforced glass windows that still hung strongly in its frame. She tried to gaze through the window, trying to spy something remotely helicopter-shaped, but couldn't find anything of interest, and was quickly reigned in and ushered forward by Joel.
They quickly reached the second door, the one marked with a yellow '2' above the entryway. Adam gently placed his hands on the push-bar and put some force in, and the metal door silently swung open, to revealing the vast, darkened expanse in front of them. In the very centre of the massive basement, barely visible, was a large object covered by a tarpaulin. Her heart skipped a beat with happiness at the premise that their escape was at hand.
Adam entered the room first, and everyone else poured in behind him. Carlos directed the flash light toward the large, covered object, illuminating the green and oil-stained canvas in a harsh white light. Adam gestured to Blufor, and the two moved toward the tarp, taking hold of either side. She stood next to Joel and gazed at the object in awe of what it could be.
The tarp flew upwards, revealing the concealed entity.
Large, rectangular wooden crates were piled to two meters high, and extended the length of the basement. There was no vehicle, or anything that resembled transport in sight.
Adam was taken aback.
"It's not here." He murmured quietly, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. "It isn't here. Blufor, it isn't fucking here!"
"I know!" The squadmate replied, trying to alleviate his friend's tension. "I swear, before they came, it was right here! They must've-"
"Moved it?" A voice echoed out from behind them. A light switch clicked on, followed by the sound of a least five safeties being switched off, their dull metallic clicks echoing around the concrete basement. The lights slowly flickered into life, one by one, revealing Simon's hulking figure crowding the doorway, a huge LMG clutched in his hands. There were others with him, but only two gun barrels managed to squeeze between the commander's gargantuan arms and the doorframe.
"Guess you missed that intel meeting, huh, Sticks?" Said a new voice, from outside the door; younger, and female, yet with the same poison that dominated Simon's tones, and as condescending as all hell.
Buck squeezed between Simon and the door, into view, her right arm sewn up at the stump where Joel's bullet had torn her hand clean off. She held a 9mm pistol in her good hand, and trained it on Ellie the moment she made eye contact. "Thought it was you I saw back out there, runt. Wasn't sure, though, til I saw your attack dog. Then I knew something was up, and... well, the word is that Sticks ain't who he says he is." She gestured to Joel. "Thanks for this by the way, you motherfucker!"
"Gimme your other hand." Joel replied. "I'm sure I can do it again."
"Enough." Simon yelled. "What's going on here?"
"Shut up, oaf." She spat at Simon, and then pointed her pistol toward Adam. "Are you really that fucking dense that you don't know who he is?"
Simon turned his machine gun on Adam, finally comprehending that the Scotsman had been playing a ruse the entire time. Ellie saw his melon-head redden as he swallowed his rage.
"Who are you, Sticks? What does she mean?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Simon." Adam replied, still trying to play the American.
"Quit bullshitting." Buck shouted, poison dripping off her words. "He's not Sticks, you fucking moron! He's the Watcher. The motherfucking Watcher, hiding under your fat nose this whole time!" She turned back to face Adam. "Why don't you show the gorilla you real face?"
The Scotsman said nothing, only pausing briefly and staying stock still. Then, in realisation that there was no other option, he raised the balaclava off of his face, and let his auburn hair fall down over his head in medium-length, sweat-coated locks. At the sight of his face, Simon tensed, every muscle in his body tightening horribly, like a collection of overfilled balloons.
Adam's hands slowly moved behind his back, and he started to deftly remove a small, rectangular shaped canister from his belt.
"Motherfucker." Simon said. It was the only time she'd ever heard the big man swear, his civility completely abashed by rage.
Adam pulled the pin out of the cylinder, and clamped his hand down on the lever. He held the object for a mere moment, winked at her, and then hurled it downrange, directly at Simon. Blufor, Carlos and Joel all covered their ears and looked sharply at the floor.
It exploded in the air, directly infront of Simon's face, in a brilliant and incomprehensibly white light. Her ears peaked at the noise it made, and an immensely loud ringing was the only sound she heard for a few moments. As the noise in her head began to clear, it was replaced by the equally loud thrum of automatic gunfire, as a pair of strong hands scooped her up and dragged her along at immense speed. Her whole world span and revolved around her, and every now and again she'd catch glimpses of Joel through the whiteness still overpowering her eyes. He shouted - she didn't hear what he said – and the movement of his lips was followed by another immense bang, more explosive this time, and large segments of corrugated iron flew past them, allowing daylight to pour in through the vast orifice they'd created.
Once again she was moving, the strong arms underneath her whisking her away from the danger that had erupted. Slowly, she began to reclaim her senses, and found her feet. She was sprinting as fast as she could, behind Joel, Blufor and Adam, with Carlos trailing behind her. There were others, as well; she bustled past throngs of civilians, all of whom were screaming and scrambling to get away from the turmoil that had all but destroyed their morning market. She thought they had escaped the mammoth man and the bitch, until she stopped next to the others, hiding behind a steel livestock trailer parked in the quad. The wall infront of them soared meters into the sky, with bullets raining down from its height and barraging their cover.
Adam answered with more rounds, but in short, calculated bursts, and the assailants from the wall soon began to tumble and fall into the crowd below. Shots burst out from behind them too, erratically, in volleys, but Joel answered, firing the same thought-out and small bursts with an acquired assault rifle, dropping red-ring after red-ring as they tried to move through the civilians fleeing the scene.
Adam moved up to his height, put a burst into the chain around the gate, and kicked the rusted metal apart in one swift and immensely strong movement. Blufor practically threw her over the stall, to Adam, who bustled her out of gate, with Blufor following closely behind. Adam and Joel stood at the gate, guarding their escape, their short bursts echoing around the market street.
In front of her, two men moved swiftly out of their seats in an improvised four-man dune buggy, advancing, only to be met by Blufor's military training. The first man swung, missed, and caught Blufor's fist in his temple, falling immediately into unconsciousness. The second swung a knife forward with all his weight, only to be redirected by the veteran, who sent the knife straight into the assailant's own gut. Adam and Joel swiftly moved past her, taking up seats in the buggy as Blufor wrestled with the ignition, trying to coax some life into the vehicle.
A voice called out behind her.
"Help! Fuck, help me!"
She wheeled around a few feet away from the car to see Carlos, pinned by metal trailer they'd taken cover behind, his leg mangled and caught in the reinforcement beneath.
Without thinking, she ran away from the car, towards the dark-skinned man, convinced that she needed to rescue him. A voice behind her called her name desperately, and one of the three men jumped down to chase after her.
She was faster.
She reached Carlos in moments, and began to work at trying to free his mangled leg from the poles of the trailer, paying no recognition to the red-ringed silhouettes pouring towards her, or the man firing at them behind her. Carlos was distraught, and she tried her hardest to free him.
More soldiers entered the square, immediately taking up positions where others fell. Bullets flew in hailstorms, everywhere.
She gave up; it was useless. She tried to say "I'm sorry", but no words escaped her mouth. She turned and made for the exit, before a dark hand clamped down on her leg and pulled her to the floor, the breath being stolen from her body as she crashed into the dirt.
"No, please!" Carlos screamed. "Don't fucking leave me!"
Adam was suddenly beside her, a scowl plastered on his face. He paused for a minuscule moment, calculating what to do.
His assault rifle fired, and a burst tore through Carlos' arm, relinquishing his firm grip on Ellie's calf. The dark-skinned man screamed in agony, his voice almost being drowned out by the sound of gunfire and the shouts of commanding officers. He reared backwards, hiding in the wreckage of the trailer, his face a mix of agony and betrayal.
Adam stood, fired a few more times, and then pulled her up and swung her over his shoulders. The suddenness of the movement shocked her, as his full strength was displayed for the first time. In mere seconds they were out of the gate, and clambering into the back of the buggy. She drew the Magnum from the inside of her jacket, and managed to loose her entire chamber before the shitty vehicle managed to roar into life, and began careering down the dirt road laid out before them.
The red-rings followed them out in droves, laying down as much fire as possible, with less shots finding their mark as they speedily pulled away.
The wind rushed through her hair, smearing the blood on the side of her face that'd been splattered there when Carlos' forearm had exploded, allowing Adam to free her.
She turned her gaze away from the fearsome town, banishing her memories and the horrible look on Carlos' face, and glanced to her left, observing the man that until a few moments ago she had deemed a monster and a murderer.
He was sitting there, breathing heavily, clearly upset at that fact he had to leave a man behind. Despite that... he'd saved her. He'd chosen her over a fit and capable man. Chosen a loved one over a stranger.
Maybe she was starting to understand what Joel meant by "You shoot first, or you die."