Once again, thank you all greatly for the support, soooo sorry this chapter is so late. School happened. The end of the year is tough. This chapter is a bit shorter than the last two mega chapters but it seems like a decent length to me.
Warning: Shius my proof reader didn't see this chapter, expect some errors. If you see anything horribly wrong, tell me.
~In this bright future you can't forget your past.
~Bob Marley
Ms. Pauling handed me my a pen and slid the contract to me. She sat across from me on the other side of the table, eyeing me as if I'd deny the offer. We were in RED headquarters, which was my last stop before Tuefort. We had spent the last hour discussing my contract, discussing the exact details, how much room I had to breathe, my pay, all that stuff. We had finally reached an agreement.
My contracted lasted for five years, at the end of the five years I could choose to renew it or be released. Or, they could release me before that if I became a nuisance to RED. I worked for little more than minimum wage, (with a hefty Christmas check each year if I did good) and I worked for up to six months at a time.
The part that made the job worthwhile was the fact that when, or if, RED decided I was an important asset, which could take anywhere from a month to two years, I would be given a new identity. An identity free of charges, free of problems with the law, a fresh start. I could be a new person.
I could be a better person.
Ms. Pauling would release documents saying I was put to death in the electric chair, and anyone who could say otherwise was sent a fat check to keep their fucking mouth shut. She said that I was a big enough name that the news of my death might hit the press and media. The world would think I was dead.
Even my mother, who ended up god-fucking-knows where, would think I was dead.
And I would be a nobody until RED gave me some 'official' documents that said otherwise. After I received my identity, I could ask for a raise, or asked to be released from duty early.
My contract stated that everything is very hush-hush as well. NO blabbing to anyone who wasn't a comrade, and even then I should be cautious about what comes out my mouth.
By signing the document I agreed to all of that. I looked to Ms. Pauling, who expression remained neutral.
"You'll take care of everything?"
"Everything, and then some. RED will even set you up with a doctor to look into your mental health, covered by your new health insurance."
I hated doctors. I cringed at that but I nodded anyway, knowing I could use help. I signed the contract and agreed to fight in some everlasting personal war between two monopoly companies over worthless land in the middle of New Mexico.
...
"So you know the other eight on the teams? The other classes?" Ms. Pauling asked as we waited for a train to come and pick me up. Several bags sat at our feet, including one holding my flamethrower, the one the police confiscated once they found me. RED had dug it up somehow. In another bag, sat my new uniform. I hadn't had a chance to look at it yet.
"Yes Miss Pauling." I told her like I would tell my mother.
"And you've been debriefed on the objectives you'll be expected to complete?"
I nodded and adjusted my mask. They found that for me too.
"You know of respawn?"
"Roughly."
"Pyro" -that's my new name- "You are aware that the missions can last for months and that brakes might be few and far between," she continued before I could nod. "And, you know you'll be the only woman on the team. It's up to you how you introduce yourselves to the team, but some of the men might be a little..." I filled in the blanks.
"Okay. I'll manage." Ms. Pauling handed me my stuff, and within minutes I said goodbye and boarded the first train to come to the station. I waved back to Ms. Pauling, who I quickly branded branded as a friend though I doubt she did the same for me, and she probably waved back. I didn't look to check.
I was probably the only person on the train besides the conductor, who I didn't see at any point. Instead of passengers, the train carried cargo for the other RED mercenaries. It was six full cars of food, ammo, basic necessities, weapons, and various crates. The crates had the class names on them, all eight of the other classes, and something told me that they were personal. I didn't touch them.
For the first hour and a half of the ride I fiddled with a lighter and tried to calm my emotions. I was nervous. I was excited. And I was happy. It had been a long time sense I was happy. I didn't know what to do with myself, or if I should feel guilty about feeling happy about getting a job where I kill people.
The lighter in my fingers flickered on and off a few more times before I decided it wasn't helping and put it away. A few minutes later I got bored and took it out again. The lighter in my hand I had found in my father car a few years ago when my mother gave it to me. It was a zippo of course, with my fathers name long since rubbed off. I suppose it was the only thing I had left of him, and even though with every year the where and tear get greater and the value drops, it still managed to be my favorite.
I wondered briefly if what became of my mother. If she remarried. If she possibly had another child or two. If she is still even alive. I laughed after that last one, you couldn't kill that woman with an axe. Not that I tried.
I wondered if she was happy. If she ever thought of me. I flipped the lighter closed and put it in one of my bags.
In one of the bags sitting at my feet, was my new uniform. It was red and made of a thick rubber, it was surprisingly heavy for it's size, and the important part was it was fire-retardant. It came with boots and gloves, and a new gas mask. I put on the uniform, leaving the mask off and decided I liked it.
I liked the way it was baggy. It was possibly made for a person a few sizes bigger than myself. I liked the way it didn't show off any 'womanly curves' I may or may not have had, and I liked the way it covered all of my skin (with the mask) and hid all of my scarring, not like I was ashamed of it, but because a few of the other mercenaries might want to know how I got them and I don't particularly like discussing it.
The uniform came with a new mask as well, and upgrade from my old one. It covered my whole head, unlike my other one which was held by straps and only really covered my face. The eye holes were bigger and the filters wider, which would be more convenient for me. I was reluctant to change from my old mask, it held some sentimental value, but I put on the new one and stuffed the old one in my bag so I wouldn't lose it.
The train screeched like a bat out of hell and rolled to a shuddering stop. I grabbed my bags and opened the door with my foot because my hands were full. A blast of heat hit me, like stepping into a sauna.
I looked around.
Everything was desert. Miles upon miles of sand and tumbleweeds under a steel colored sky. The only other thing besides the endless landscape and the train, was a man and an old ford pick up truck.
"Welcome to Tuefort."
~Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success.
~Henry Ford
"Go ahead and put that right in th' truck," the man stated as he tipped his cowboy hat to me and motioned to the bags in my hands. "The train won't be stayin' long, we need ta get all of our supplies outta there before it leaves." He adjusted a pair of goggles, and got to work. I noticed the handgun strapped to his belt and wondered why he had it. There would be no one to fight out here.
I stood uselessly for a moment before putting my stuff in the back of the truck and helping him unload the stuff from the train. Most of the boxes were horribly heavy and a few we needed to both carry, but after a few minutes we packed everything that would fit into the back of the pick up and closed the tailgate. Not a minute later did the train start back up and slowly move away, picking up speed every ten yards and disappearing down the tracks.
"The tracks don't reach our base, so every week Heavy or Demo an' me drive out here to pick up the supplies." The man started to get into the drivers seat of the truck before stopping and walking back over to me, staring in the lenses of my new mask. Then he took off the goggles and extended his hand. "Well pardon me, don't believe I introduced myself. I'm the engineer, Engie for short. It's pleasure to meet ya, you can call me Dell if ya really like, but most of the boys jus' go by their class name."
I shook his hand and said I was the pyro, but it came out a jumbled mess of syllables. He smiled to himself and got in the car. I got in the passenger seat. The engineer told me a bit about the war we were in and drove away from the train tracks into nothing, and I started to get worried. Engie was a good conversationalist and his words (though I can't remember what he was saying) were distracting, but not distracting enough to make me forget about the gun at his waist.
Was he driving me out into the middle of nowhere to shoot me?
No. I was being paranoid. I was good at that. I would've taken out a lighter to take my mind of it, but they were all in my bags in the truck bed, and I'm sure Engineer would've thought that really weird anyway.
Not a minute later a little dot showed up on the horizon and I stopped fretting about it. "That's our base." As the dot grew bigger the more anxious I became. We arrived. Engineer parked the truck behind the base and helped me with my bags, he said the rest of the stuff could stay there for a while until the other guys felt like getting it.
You can understand my horror when I realized the base was a giant wooden structure. While walking through the pretty narrow halls, on the dry hay lining the floor, I realized just how difficult it would be not to catch the base on fire. They expected me to run through these narrow halls wielding a flamethrower, while this was one of the easiest places to burn I'd seen in a while.
"Right this way buddy, th' others are jus' upstairs." I followed Engineer through a courtyard and up some rickety stairs, then down some halls. The whole base wasn't wooden, the inside contained white brick in places, but overall the whole thing would be a nuisance.
Note to self, don't set the base on fire.
We reached a section that must've been the living quarters and Engineer yelled for the others.
And suddenly there was a man in a helmet yelling in my face, a kid to my left talking faster than light speed, and what only could've easily been a giant standing in front of me with a judgmental look hanging on boredom.
I can't tell you exactly what any of them said, but the one who yelled like a banshee was going on about my association with Nazis and the other was getting into some rather personal questions. The giant scratched his chin.
The man in the goggles spoke up. "This is our new pyro boys, 'bout time we got one too. Pyro, this here's Heavy Weapons Guy-"
"-Heavy."
"Scout and Soldier." I could guess who was who. I said hello but I suppose it didn't sound like hello.
"Could you repeat that son?" I shrugged.
"You are leetle man. Where is weapon, leetle man?" I would've answered but another stormed in the room, demanding to know 'vat all the rucuz waz about,' then another holding a bottle of booze with eyepatch, and the room was filled with more people.
And it was chaotic. Jesus Fuck do these guys know how to bicker and argue and be loud.
Engineer: That's medic over there, he won't bug you if you don't bug him-
Scout: I'm Scout-
Medic: -He knows zat Scout, zis is Demo.
Demo: Nice ta meet ya lad, 'bout time ye showed up, we been needen a pyro for a 'ong time now.
Soldier: Are you a full blooded american? I won't trust a COMMIE BASTARD to cover me on MY team-
Someone: SOLDIER!
Scout: I wanna talk!
Demo: An' no one wants ta 'ear it.
Too many people.
Heavy: Leetle fireman must show weapon.
Soldier: If you ignore me one more time, you'll get 20 extra laps to run tomorrow Private!
Engineer: We don't actually run laps-
Scout: I do-
Demo: Only cause yoo need ta practice running away! His breath smelled of booze.
Scout: Buddy, I'm a f-
Engineer: Yes, we know Scout.
A few seconds of silence and it was like a godsend, but then gone again.
Medic: Herr Pyro, I have your file, it iz mostly blank, you must come with me tomorrow and ve'll fix zat.
Heavy: You vill go with doctor.
Engineer: Boy, why don't you come with me and we'll get you situated...
My heart pounded in my ears. I tensed. At least they were starting to pick up on this before it was too late. I didn't like crowded places and I didn't really care for much talking and I certainly didn't like everyone talking at once, not necessarily even at me. Soldier started yelling again, and captured most of my attention.
Then a man in pinstripes and a ski mask came in the room, followed by a unenthusiastic tall fellow with sun glasses.
I looked right past the tall fucker to the other. I remembered this man in pinstripes, and it was clear by the pompous look in his eyes he remembered me. He stared at me smugly, and I stared at him. The room fell silent with the tension.
"..."
"Nice to meet you, mon ami." Smug Bastard.
"You're real." I stated. "You're fucking real." I thought myself completely insane because of this guy, and it turns out he was real, not a freaking hallucination.
"Could you repeat zat?"
Dammit.
"You were in my car, you were the- You're real, I, I thought you were a hallucination, god damn you're real."
"You're going to have to speak up son." Soldier said. I groaned, but it is probably for the best they couldn't hear me.
The pinstriped man smiled dismissed himself and walked away, stating he had something to do. Engineer informed me that that was Spy, and he gets on everybody's nerve at some point.
...
I was introduced to the sniper, who seems a bit like a cranky introvert, but who am I to judge? We didn't say anything to each other, then I was checked into respawn, and I moved into my room. Engie showed it to me. At least we each had our own room, if I had to share with anybody I would kill them.
"Now I know everything must be a bit hectic now, the team are an odd bunch an' all, but don't worry you'll fit in soon, Scouts new too, he's only been here a week. How 'bout you come eat dinner with us?"
Dinner didn't sound like something I intended to attend, but I was hungry. I followed Engineer to the kitchen and fixed a plate of re-heated stew.
"Ya gonna eat with us brotha?"
I shook my head and mumbled an excuse.
"No one can hear a damn thing ya mutter through that freaking mask, why don't ya just take it off man?"
"I don't want to." He understood that part at least.
A couple of the guys, Engineer and Soldier I think, said they'd find me a couple of other weapons in the morning. I was told by the German man I'd get a check up (which I fully intended to skip) tomorrow, and I dismissed myself to my room and contemplated eating the re-heated stew. I locked the door, double checking it twice to insure that the only other ones who would be getting in the room were my own mental head trips.
And real ones, not that god damn Spy, pretending to be a hallucination.
I let out a sigh of relief I didn't know I was holding. Fuck all of this shit.
It was too many people to meet at once and I struggled to tie all the faces to the names.
I took off the suit, and the gas mask, which I was liking a great deal. It hid everything. I unpacked my bags, throwing what little possessions I had all about in an attempt to make the room less foreign. It was certainly nicer than a jail cell, but the blank wooden walls and floors didn't make it seem like anything that would belong to me, whereas the jail cell had felt almost homey when I left it.
I hadn't felt really at home sense I left the nest at eighteen, but at one point the cell felt close.
Air seeped through the one window (which was cracked and had a nice view of endless desert) in the room, and even though it was closed, the room was hot. There was nothing I could do to stop the hot air from entering the room. I accepted it. My room was just another sauna.
And, don't fucking forget, I had eight strangers, half of whom might be complete wack jobs, sleeping in the same building right down the hall. It unnerved me.
I collapsed into the bed and covered myself with the thin scratchy sheets, and ignored the thoughts that reminded me that I possessed a flamethrower again, (though I'd have to assemble it) and I was in the middle of a dry desert with no one around to catch me for miles, in a flammable wooden base that wouldn't even need any promoting except a match to catch.
Such thoughts weren't healthy, I told myself. They were straight up homicidal. They weren't right, but that didn't stop me from thinking such thoughts.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter though it isn't all that exciting.
A special thanks to everyone of you fabulous people for reading, please drop me a review and have a fantastic day.