Disclaimer: I don't own The Hills Have Eyes.
Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter! I really appreciate the feedback. I definitely didn't expect to get much feedback for this, but I'm glad that y'all took the time to review. Anyway, here's the latest chapter. I suppose I needed a break from my other, larger project. Please enjoy!
Edge
Chapter Two: Exit Light
The hot sun beat down on Missy Martinez's brow as the large armored truck made its way through the deserted planes of New Mexico. The truck glided easily over the sand, but there were always bumps that even the truck couldn't take, and those caused the brunette to be jostled about, her thin frame still apparent even in the thick army uniform she wore.
She listened as the members of her unit talked and gossiped, making fun of Napoleon the most. Thinking all of it completely childish, she refused to join in. Amber's giggles at one of Mickey's random jokes were enough to make her sick. Though she knew Amber to be capable of defending herself, she wasn't so sure if she should get too friendly with Mickey. After all, that's how everything always started. With a guy.
She decided to make the best of this situation in which everyone was ignoring her, and looked out at the desert, focusing her gaze above the heads of her makeshift family. She could hear Napoleon grunt in distaste as another remark was made to him. This one more crude and despicable, courtesy of Crank. Crank was probably the only one in her unit that she would welcomingly shoot, if things came down to it.
Missy chose to not focus on that. Instead, she tried to do what she had intended to do before Crank's remark. She scanned the desert with slightly weary eyes. It was not an often thing that she was able to rest and relax, just stare at the symmetry of the desert, seeing a random, dried out tree that could be as far away as a hundred yards, but seemed so much closer due to the vastness of the area.
She saw that there were very vague lines along the sand, as if the wind had blown the sand itself into something resembling waves. She smiled at that, somehow wishing that she could draw the scene. The colors of the desert had always appealed to her, especially when the sun set and everything really came alive.
"Water?"
Missy fought back the urge to jump at the familiar, friendly voice. She looked over to her left where Delmar was sitting, a water bottle clenched in his outstretched hand.
She might have refused under any other circumstances, out of sheer stubbornness and the desire to not have to rely on anyone else, but the desert was too wild and unpredictable to not go without water when available. Missy offered Delmar a slightly crooked smile - he was one of the men that she could actively trust, in and out of combat.
"Sure," she replied. The words sounded strange on her tongue. She realized just then how parched she really was. Not wanting to look weak, she took the bottle out of Delmar's hand with a grateful glance and started drinking. She paced herself, not wanting to drink too much and make herself sick, but in a matter of minutes she ended up emptying the bottle.
She found herself flushed with something other than the heat and looked around. No one had noticed except Delmar, who was smiling genially.
"You know, you can tell people when you're thirsty." His teeth were blindingly white.
She shrugged in response.
Missy heard Delmar laugh a bit at that. If anyone wasn't put off by her demeanor, it was him. Amber and Napoleon were the other two, she thought. And Sarge, well, he didn't care one way or another, but he was like that with everyone. Was supposed to be.
She sighed and twisted the bottle between her hands, thinking that she would give anything to be away from here, back at home. The longing to see her son was almost unbearable. Subconsciously, she ran her finger across the sleeve of her jacket, just where Clyde's name was tattooed on her skin.
Missy sighed as she remembered the last time she saw him - well over two weeks ago. Thinking of her little man with her parents back in New York made her incredibly homesick. She craved one of her mother's famous meals, wanted to joke around with her father, longed to play doctor with Clyde. She tried to push the feeling to the back of her mind, but to no avail.
This whole mission was kind of odd, if she were to be honest with herself. Earlier in the day, they had completely failed in a simulation-type battle, ending with Napoleon getting them all blown up by a woman with bombs strapped to her chest. Fake ones, of course, but Missy had to admit that her heart had definitely skipped several beats in result.
Sarge had, of course, blown a gasket. Harsh words had been thrown and they had been given a mission of sorts - to deliver equipment to the scientists that were currently in Sector 16 of Yuma Flats doing Lord knows what.
She wasn't concerned, though. This should be easy. Deliver equipment, practice shooting and combat, try not to get Sarge on her ass, and then leave. Nothing major. Just another day.
Missy had never been more wrong.
Driving up to the camp that was set into the base of a massive rock formation, she couldn't help but feel that something was off. Maybe it was years of watching her back setting in, but she had the feeling that something just wasn't right about the place. She waited until Spitter parked the truck and Sarge jumped out of the passengers' seat to tumble out of the back of the truck, just a bit behind everyone else.
If the initial feeling of wrongness wasn't enough to deter Missy from the place, the complete desertion of the camp confirmed what she felt.
Sarge noticed at once that there was no one anywhere. Obviously he had the same kind of hunch that she did, telling them to split up and look for any person they could.
Though a rational voice in the back of her mind told her that they could have just been somewhere else, she thought it wasn't likely. This whole situation was odd. Shouldn't somebody have been manning the camp? It was very strange that there would be no personnel there at all.
"Shit!" came a voice. It was Delmar. An irrational worry swelled in her chest, and she immediately darted over to where his voice came from. Seeing that he was okay, she immediately cursed herself for worrying so much. It wasn't a good thing, caring like that. The other soldiers did so as well, converging around him with their guns to their side.
"What is it, Delmar?" Sarge demanded, coming around the corner and looking as tense as a bowstring.
Delmar didn't have to answer - the large amount of blood staining one whole side of the main tent spoke for itself.
"Damn," Crank muttered. "What the fuck is going on here."
"We have a problem, that's what's going on!" Sarge shouted, turning to the group of soldiers.
"That's too much spray for the person to have survived…" Missy murmured, pressing her fingers to her chin. "Way too much."
Amber moved over to Missy's side, "What do you think happened?"
"No clue," Missy said truthfully. She felt sick to her stomach.
"Prepare yourself," Sarge commanded. "Looks like there's one sick fucker who lost his mind out here. Damn good place to do it."
Crank was beside Missy, shifting from one foot to another and cursing under his breath. Though he certainly talked a good talk, she knew Crank was more than squeamish when it came to matters like this. It would have been comical if the situation wasn't so horrible.
"What should we do, Sarge?" Mickey asked, calm and collected. He might have been a goof on just another day, but Missy was always impressed when he was faced with a serious situation. He could change on the drop of a hat.
"Well, we obviously need to find whoever did this," he snapped in retort. "Half stays here, half comes with me into the hills."
"What?" Missy found herself saying, "That's…splitting up isn't a good idea. We should stay down here and radio for help!"
"Did I ask your opinion, Martinez?" Sarge snapped. "Now, the best thing we can do is find whoever it was that did this. And, if I were the sick fuck, I'd certainly not stay on the ground. I'd hide up in the hills."
He made a good point, but Missy couldn't shake the feeling that going up into those hills was the very worst of ideas. Call her paranoid, but if Missy knew one thing at all, it was to trust her gut instinct.
"Just for saying that, Missy, you stay down here and radio for help. Spitter, Napoleon, Stump, you three stay here and keep lookout. Everyone else is with me."
Just as he said that, a bright light shone from the top of the hills, as if reflected off of a mirror.
"Look!" Stump shouted, pointing upward, "Hey, it might be someone!"
Sarge acknowledged that, but then said to Stump, "Don't get excited. This is not an exciting situation."
Missy sighed. She hated being demoted to calling for help, but she supposed it was her own damn fault for being so vocal before. She can't help it if her mothering instincts took over, especially at a time like this. Sarge looked at her then, nodded with trusting eyes, and moved his group up the side of the hill. Before they followed, Delmar and Amber each caught her eyes and gave reassuring nods and smiles causing Missy to feel anything but reassured.
She turned back to the camp, tried not to look at the bloody canvas of the tent, and moved to sit at the table and radio for help. Stump and Spitter were fighting over something, and Napoleon was walking over to use the port-o-potty. She took off her helmet and raised the phone to her ear, moving dials and hearing nothing but static - an eerie shiver passed over her.
Several minutes passed. Napoleon came out of the bathroom and was zipping his fly when it happened.
"What the hell!" Spitter exclaimed.
Missy looked up at the sound of his voice. She gazed over at him. He looked absolutely terrified for a split second before running over to where he had been looking. The scent of smoke then decided to hit Missy full force just as Napoleon and Stump both cursed and followed Spitter.
Missy jumped up and ran after them.
"What the fuck is this!" Stump cried, his voice wavering.
Thick black smoke billowed out of the truck, consuming their only means of transportation.
No way out, Missy thought numbly as her eyes raked over the vast and craggy hills in front of her.
What had seemed so beautiful to her before was now a death trap.
End Chapter Two.