2 - Next Stop

The light is left behind him. That was number three. And the fourth shows its faint glow from beyond another bend, but it isn't alone anymore. Beams of sunlight, as thin as they are, still reach through the lowered and cracked ceiling. The red painted word on the suppressor lights up as they shine on it and so does the white word written close to the bolt. He painted them on himself, during a time where he could take things less seriously. Old jokes that were funny once yet remained funny to him. Now to be considered forgotten or highly ironic at best. A reminder of a simpler time.

The further he goes, the worse the quality of the tunnel gets. The sunrays do not help the cold nor the claustrophobic atmosphere. He has seen more vermin and regular bugs than he was comfortable with for today. Adding to that some suspect substances he had to avoid on the floor. It could have been oil or water. But he did not intend to find out for himself.

He groans internally at it all. Then, there is a rustle coming ahead of him. It triggers a reflex; he gets on his knee and his eye is already looking through the scope. But his finger remains off the trigger for it is just a scared creature now scurrying away for its life. He scoffs at it with contempt and stands back up. With his free hand reaches for the clip on his belt and takes it off. Holding in his hand now is the night sight which he attaches to the weapon, in front of the regular scope.

"There."

He turns it on to test it. The indication light burns and peering through the scope once more, the green/black overlay shows with the vermin's presence further down the tunnel. Once more in the crosshairs. He imitates the sound of a gunshot, snickers and resumes his pace. The vermin scurries away once more.

After he has passed the fourth light and passed the bend, sees more light ahead. It is still only faintly visible in the distance. But it is not blue but white instead. Like the sunbeams he saw before. Curious but cautious he picks the pace a little bit. Could that be the exit he was looking for? He does spot an emergency exit ahead and to this right. With a platform to climb up on on his right but that door is blocked off. At least it is something positive.

When he passes however, more positive thoughts are suddenly swept away when he hears an all too familiar click. Right after putting down his right foot. It puts him into a complete standstill and a cold sweat begins to roll down his cheek. A nightmare for soldiers, stepping on a mine. Carefully, he looks down at his foot while making sure not to put too much or too little pressure on it. He cannot see a mine however, but crafty bastards could have borrowed under the ground. Strange place, just next to the metro tracks and partially under it...? How could they have buried one there?

Half-convinced that what he is standing on is not a mine, he lowers the butt of his rifle down to the ground, close to his foot and taps it. He only hears a muffled thud. It is just the ground. All too carefully though, he lifts his foot and without losing his life he puts it down a little further back.

There is no mine. He is not getting blown-up. But he heard a click regardless. What was that then?

Using the rifle butt on the floor as support, he bends over to inspect the ground closer. There is truly nothing but the ground, dust, dirt and the tracks. Then he looks to his right and he sees something attached to the wall just underneath the platform. It is emitting a dim red light right at his chin.

"A laser. Must be a motion tracker. An old model though but it works. Although, I do not think it was meant for me. Or for the metro. Hm."

He gets back up and continues on. The closer he gets, the clearer the light becomes. And then he hears chatter. Although it is more akin to some barking orders. They get progressively louder the closer he gets and than after one particularly loud one, it gets quiet once more.

There is a group of people there. Must be a metro station or lost souls wandering the tunnels like him. Whether or not they are friendly, is up to the lord of chance. Approaching the edge of the bend, he looks up to see a cobbled-together mirror system. He can see himself in at least a few. Judging from its construction, this would help whoever is out of the tunnel to look around the bend without putting themselves in danger. Clever but this also means that those unknown know about him now too.

With this in the back of his head, he puts his rifle away; bolt-action might not be the best way to deal with a group up close. Given how reality is not one of his video games, "quick-scoping" is not advised. The revolver is therefore pulled out and ready for action.

He peers around the corner and can see a metro station. A simple one, get on or get off. And he needs to get off. This is it, the exit he has been searching for. He can see it. Being detected does not matter to him anymore. He breathes in and out, points the gun forward and rushes in.

In this rush however, he failed to notice a peculiar device that is attached to the tracks. A faint humming can be heard from it. Like it is brimming with power. Judging from the lighting bolt symbol that has been plastered on it, its purpose is not a shocking revelation.

However, it does not zap him. Whether or not it is broken, Trevor is not going to ponder. Quickly he climbs onto the right platform to avoid being stuck in the low ground when the potential gunfire starts, he does notice now that there is no noise or response to his presence. But the gun stays up and he presses on.

Ahead of him he can see a kiosk that has been heavily barricaded and two makeshift barricades on either side of the rails. The footbridge is extended at the back so that people can cross to the other side.

There are or have been people here. So the slightest move or sound has his full attention. With most of the cover ahead of him, he keeps up a steady pace and moves towards a thick pole connecting the roof and the floor.

"You better put the gun down there son." a voice filled to the brim with gravel and Southern whisky suggests.

His attention shifts lighting fast to where the silence breaker came from. And ahead of him, seen through the iron sights, behind the kiosk that once sold anything from gum to newspapers, emerges an old fox wearing a comedically quaint cowboy hat sitting a tad canted on his head. His grayed, almost mustard yellow fur reflects his years and age. Grizzled and tough as leather. The only thing missing is a fat cigar between the lips, a scar on his cheek and an eyepatch. A gold-plated badge attached to his vest reflects the incoming light.

"Who might you be then?" the older gentleman inquires.

He is not impressed by the gun aiming at him, having both his hands holding the belt buckle.

"Corporal DeLange. Cornerian Army, 35th Special Recon Force. Or what is left of it."

He sighs at the end but does not let his gun down.

The old man looks suspicious at first but changes to looking rather pleased. He takes off his hat and holds it to his chest. His other hand is getting rather close to a gun however.

"A soldier then! You are a sight for sore eyes, son. I am Sheriff Silva. Obviously not from around this here city. Rather from outside of town. But I think you have seen stranger things."

The way he said "stranger" was a little too obvious. And before he could put his finger on why his pronunciation felt forced, two others pop up from behind the kiosk on the old man's left and right.

From his right, emerges a female rabbit with a pistol already drawn. Now having taken a kneeled position. Despite the pose, she does appear quite tall for someone of her species. She has a somehow familiar gray fur but slightly darker. Her ears are about as tall as the size of her head with black edges at the top. The one on the right is slightly floppy at the top. She looks no-nonsense, focused and agitated. With an obvious black eye visible even from where he is standing as well as a mismatching colored patch on just above the left knee of her pants. It looks like her mother sewed it on for her using a leftover dishcloth.

The other is a particular species of dog he cannot put his finger on right now that emerges from Silva's left. His facial expression is the focal point despite his hand eagerly lingering above his sidearm; it's an expression of sheer contempt and violent glee. Wide-eyed like a junkie that just missed their hit and he's looking for an excuse to quickdraw.

Both now shadow the self proclaimed Sheriff and they too have visible badges. However they are wearing more traditional police uniforms compared to the rag the old cop is wearing.

Trevor lowers his gun and then puts up his hands.

"Okay. I'm putting it down. Slow."

He does what he says, putting his revolver down on the ground. The female officer in response does the same with her weapon in the general understanding that neither is willing to die today. Making no sudden moves, Trover gets back on his feet before noticing the maniacal looking one not following up on this.

"Hey! Call off your bloodhound." he calls out to the old fox.

Whereupon the old fox glances over his shoulder meeting the dog at eye level and nods. The hand relaxes and moves away from the holster.

"I apologize for the unwelcome feeling there, soldier. My deputies are quite tense, but I don't have to tell you that. On my right, we have Deputy Ashley and on my left Deputy Felix. We are part of the Coronet Police Department. Or what is left of it."

He has a hearty chuckle over it before sighing.

"You may pick up your piece now, we know you're good people now."

With a hint of hesitation, Trevor picks his revolver back up and puts it back in the holster. The Sheriff beckons him over as the male Deputy crosses the footbridge towards what he can only assume to be the bathroom. Or perhaps it is because the trigger-happy man does not like him very much.

"So Corporal. What are special forces doing here? Given your attire I assume you are one." asks the Sheriff.

Trevor nods.

"Yes I am. I was with a convoy we met in the center driving south. To force those bastard bugs back, retake the initiative and drive them out of the city."

"Clearly something you weren't very good at." taunts the female deputy leaning against the wall behind her.

Her voice is injected with venom and sounds as pleasant as an obnoxious drunk blonde at a party.

"It is quite hard to follow a convoy when the road under your vehicle collapses and crashes you into this tunnel. Thank you for your contribution ma'am." he says scornfully.

The rabbit turns the other cheek with a scoff.

"As I said, we are going south. We did have an objective underway but that has been dealt with."

"I assume you weren't alone in your objective?"

"I was not alone indeed, Sheriff Silva. I was with an engineering team and my partner. We completed our objective but a large explosion caused the roof to collapse. I became seperated from them and eventually I ended up here."

"Partner?" interjects the leaning Deputy again.

"As in lovey-dovey? With a 'stache like that?"

"Just as a partner. A friend." Trevor responds reasonably annoyed.

"I met her a few days ago and..."

"A few days and already a fling?! She must have been..."

"Ashley." the Sheriff says with a stern tone to which the bunny reacts by turning petrified in the blink of an eye.

"Enough now. See if Felix needs help. Leave us be."

Coming back to her senses, she seems only visibly annoyed but not uttering a single scoff or "tsk", she walks away in the direction of her colleague. The Sheriff watches her go and when she is out of sight, he turns back to Trevor.

"I saw your restraint slowly breaking. I apologize on her behalf, she can be…"

He tries to think of a fitting description.

"...very unnerving. But she can be put into her place easily. Now, clearly this partner of yours means a lot to you, regardless of how long you may have known her."

"It is comradery on the battlefield, Sheriff. Someone you can trust blindly when the bullets start flying."

Silva nods subtly.

"I know what you mean. I assume that is also a reason you want to find your convoy again. Yes, I can see it in your eyes. However, I have some bad news for you."

He turns around and points to the beginning of another tunnel.

"Just a few hundred meters ahead you'll find that the roof has collapsed there as well. The only way out is that there stairwell to your rear right. The exit and entrance to this metro station. And I am determined to make sure nothing gets in or out without my say-so."

That last part did not gel well with Trevor. And Silva notices that.

"Did you expect me not to? There is a reason why we have a motion tracker back there. It's not meant for you Corporal. It's meant for those things out there. The bastards, the bugs. No need to pull extra attention towards ourselves."

"Then I will be as stealthy as can be. After all, I am Special Forces so I think I can sneak out without drawing them towards you." he remarks sourly.

"Corporal, I said you were a sight for sore eyes. I wasn't lying; we need someone like you to defend this position properly. Every day the swarm that comes from that tunnel where you came from gets bigger and bigger. We are just with three armed. Now if a soldier came to join us..." Silva leaves Trevor to draw the conclusion himself.

But Trevor has already made up his mind.

"I came looking for a way out, Sheriff. I now have found one. I will make sure my exit cannot be traced back to you."

"That is your final word on it?"

"Yes it is. Good luck Sheriff."

With that said, Trevor turns around and walks away from Silva and towards the exit. Following the sunlight.

With his back now turned, he does not notice that the Sheriff is gesturing towards his two deputies, who were watching from the doorway they previously entered in. Together with them, emerge six other individuals. When they are out in the open and have a clear view at both the Sheriff and Trevor's back, the Sheriff calls out to Trevor one last time. Just as he sets his foot on the first step.

"Corporal! Are you absolutely certain?"

Trevor stops but does not answer. Instead a complete silence falls over the station for a moment that seems to span eternity. Only broken when Trevor walks up the second step and continues on. Then he hears an unknown feminine voice speak:

"Corporal? You mean as in a soldier? The Army is here?"

This triggers more unknown voices to speak up. A mixture of amazement and confusion. Why is the army here? Why is he leaving us? Who is he?

But the confusion quickly turns to pleading for him to return. It is difficult to hear and ignore the cries but he pushes on. The judging and begging feel like lasers burning into his back. As soon as he is out of view and he can no longer hear them very well, does he speed up to get back to the outside world. And what a world he returns to.

He looks out over a massive plaza made of white marble, caged between damaged skyscrapers. The still early-morning Solar breaks through the holes and in between them. It highlights the awful scene ahead of him. It is littered with smoke, battle damage, corpses of civilians and soldiers alike, broken vehicles and rubble. Somewhere in the distance he can hear a stone pillar crumble to the ground. Nothing is alive or whole anymore.

Directly around him, he can see that the entrance to the station is demarcated with sandbags. Spent shell casings litter the floor. This used to be a place of refuge. Or an outpost. Did those three...?

"No... I would have seen more signs of battle in there. They must have moved in after it was abandoned." he says to himself.

As he looks back at the entrance, he cannot shake a feeling of guilt. For leaving those people behind. He knows that they only let the civilians out to make it ever so hard for him to leave but still.

"Fu... scheming bastards." he hisses to himself as he leans on the sandbag pile.

He then shakes his head.

"I cannot leave them be. Crap!"

Trevor drags his hands over his face in frustration and rubs the base of his nose. He knows what he must do but really wishes he did not have to. He reaches over the radio frequency knob and twists to the familiar frequency. He broadcasts another message.

"Hey partner. I'm still here. Haven't heard anything from you yet so I figured to at least keep you up to date. I uh... I got good news and bad news. The good news is that I'm back above ground. Not exactly sure where I am though. It's a park or plaza or something. Still in the center of the city unfortunately. But I'm out! Now longer stuck in dingy, dark subway tunnels anymore. Unfortunately, that is where the bad news comes in. Imma... not going anywhere for now. The exit I found was a metro station that is currently occupied by three cops from out of town and six civvies they managed to scramble together just as I left. For that extra emotional blackmail factor. And it works. You know how I am, social pressure gets to me. I'm not gonna stay long however; when everyone sleeps, I will sneak out. I will not care at all if one of those coppers gets in my way. I got a silenced sniper with a night sight. They will not see nor hear me coming. Particularly those two deputies. One psycho and the other a right bitch dressed up in police uniforms. Or perhaps a rifle butt to the head would be sufficient enough. In short, I'll be on my way again by nightfall. So it's not all bad news. I suppose. I hope things are better on your end though. If you reach the offensive in the south before I do, leave some targets for me. I gotta go now. I'll be seeing you soon. Maybe even hearing from you sooner."

He lets go of the broadcast button and turns the frequency back to zero. He will still receive.