5 - Leech

They have it quite good here, those people. It is basic in some departments and abundant in the other. Like the kitchen and the wash station sandwiching a functioning boiler supplying hot, cold and above all clean water. With multiple tapping points. So also is the food and the drinking water storage. In the kiosk the Sheriff came out from behind into his sights the first time, everything is still functioning as it should. There are working lights, air conditioning, refrigeration and even a freezer. For keeping the bread, vegetables and meat stored in them fresh. The shelves inside that once held everything from potato chips to mints have been emptied and filled up with canned food and at first sight strangely enough ammunition as well.

But not everything stayed as it was or has moved positions. Significant work has been done to turn this place into a bunker. Small portions have not been barricaded over by plywood and corrugated metal plates resembling cheap shed roofing, allowing the curious eye to peer inside. More importantly, allowing the occupant of this enclosed Garden of Eden-esque to look outside. The main window, where someone once stood ready to take orders, is locked tight with a security roller shutter. And instead of someone welcoming standing behind it, there is a machine gun bolted to the counter with the barrel pointing upwards for now. The ammunition now makes more sense. A water filtration system has been made where the cash register used to be. It is quite a welcome thing to see should the more luxurious alternatives fail. And it works; three scavenged dispensers from office water coolers are already filled up.

Everyone is here for a basic living. Nothing like normal, but it is not survival either, unlike some unfortunates in this war. It is more akin to a very spacious hostel. There is nothing here for entertainment. No commercial radio's, TV or internet for that matter. You ought to entertain yourself with what you have on you and each other. Like being stuck inside a great grandparents' house. It does match the stale smell around here. But for what there is, there is so much choice and so much variety.

On the other hand, everything is regulated here in such an unimaginative way. The flip side of this haven. Ruled with an iron fist and a shiny badge exercising its authority. "This is not a democracy." he was told very sternly. Maybe not in those exact words, but he could read between the lines. Follow the rules and try to curry favor. Consumption and drink is piled up and distributed equally. That meant that any food or water he had on him was confiscated. Received a firm pad-me-down from the bunny to make sure he was not hiding anything. The water filtration was used on the contents of his canteen and filled up the dispensers more.

The distribution of these goods is limited to times and liters. Breakfast is between 8:00 and 10:00. Lunch starts at 12:00 and lasts until 13:00. And finally dinner is served at 18:00 sharp till 21:00. You will take what you can get. Trevor was too late for breakfast but too early for lunch but he was given a pre-packaged sandwich as a little favor.

He was also given his 'Metro Society'-issued water bottle. A 2-liter plastic bottle one would find in a supermarket. That is the daily limit for adults and 1,5 liters for minors. So the advice is to fill it in the morning and have it empty before you go to sleep.

A lot of rules and suggestions you should take to heart. And breaking or ignoring any of these will land you with some limitations. An example given would be a reduction of your water rations. Complaining about the rules or openly displaying discontent with what is provided could land you in hot water. Then it is up to the authority figure to dictate exactly how the offender will be punished. Made one of them by proxy now, Trevor tries his best to show his compliance badge as little as possible. He would like nothing more than to use the gold-painted tin shield as target practice but that would be defacing the symbol of policing. Punishable.

After being force-fed the way it goes, he was encouraged to mingle with the 'neighborhood' but not before he has done his duty as honorary Deputy.

All of this luxury needs power and that is supplied by an energy core deep down in the basement. However recently there have been unwanted fluctuations in the supply. Sometimes the lights go out for a moment, at other times for minutes on end. And when it returns, it feels weaker. Given how maintenance personnel is few and far between nowadays, Silva is tasking Trevor to go down there to check up on it. He would not go in alone however; he called upon Ashley to join him. Despite her obvious reluctance.

The two are coerced into the hallway again and brought to the maintenance door he passed before. Not any other way to go anyway as Felix, still wide-eyed and with arms crossed, stands in the hallway blocking the way to the sleeping room and Silva standing behind them blocking the way out. Trevor would be lying if he did not feel a little bit trapped. Not letting those two get to him, he turns to the keypad.

"Silva. What is the code?"

"Oh! Of course. That would be 0-7-2-8. It used to be 2-8-0-7 but I turned that right around by Felix here. I liked it better."

Strange personal preference aside, he gave the right code. A small green light shines and an internal lock can be heard disengaging. Opening the door leads directly down a flight of stairs. Dim lights are mounted to the walls and various piping are running down the sides and disappear into them.

"Not exactly a spacious place. You better use your sidearm here Trevor." advises Silva before having Felix a head bob.

In turn, Felix walks up behind Trevor and reaches for the sniper rifle kept on his back.

"I will keep your rifle safe..."

Before Silva can finish his sentence, Trevor can already sense Felix coming too close for comfort. Quicker than the dog can react, Trevor already has pulled up his rifle, turns to his right and lunges the metal butt of the rifle straight onto the chin of Felix with a satisfying crunch.

"Piss off you sketchy bastard!" he shouts as the hurting man drops to the ground, landing unceremoniously on his behind.

This is the first time Trevor has seen Felix' eyes closed. He turns to Silva and points at him.

"I told you to call off your hound once before, Silva! The rifle stays with me. And do not even try to touch the radio."

Silva seems only half-impressed, having his thumbs dug into between his belt and his pants. A chuckle follows that ascends into laughter. Trevor can see that Ashley, standing to his side, is taken aback a lot more than the Sheriff is. Her hand is hovering over the holster but it is wavering. It is her turn to be wide-eyed this time, but it is not murderous; more like a mixture of amazement and confusion.

"Well then!" Silva calls out, still in a humorous mood.

"Then keep your equipment. I was just offering to lighten the weight on your back."

"Get off yourself then." Trevor bites back.

"We are going. Ashley, on me."

The funny mood Silva was in dissipates from Trevor's hostile comment.

"Good luck on your mission then Corporal. Don't let that rabbit get to you."

None too subtle he closes the door behind them harder than really necessary.

"We will be here waiting for you." he adds to it.

Trevor definitely believes him, he has no reason not to. As the pair descend further down the stairs, Silva helps Felix back up to his feet. The dog is stroking his chin and his eyes are screaming for revenge.

"Felix. Focus." Silva then nudges to the door.

"You know what to do."

The chin stroking then stops.

The door audibly locks behind Trevor and Ashley when they are downstairs. He can hear her scoff before following him. The white walls of the hallway are very cramped so she walks behind him. Must be an old structure, especially given the green spots on the wall. It is either moss or mold but either would not be worth touching. The hallway leads to a dead end ahead but continues on their left. Both their hands are on their holsters.

"You don't have much of a high opinion on your sheriff, right?" asks Trevor to break up the silence between them.

Ashley is taken aback by hearing Trevor's actual accent and not the more high-class one he has been putting up before Silva.

"That's your real voice huh?" she giggles.

"I mean yeah, I don't like him very much at all. He's an old dick pretending to be a tyrant. No one in the right mind would like him."

Trevor can appreciate her not mincing her words. When it is directed at someone else other than him that is.

"That makes two of us. But why not three?"

"Felix? Complete disaster. Basketcase. A trigger finger with a body attached to it. Don't bother."

"Straight to the point. Got it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you don't fit very well in that little dictator game of them. How come?"

Just as Ashley wants to answer, she suddenly sees Trevor's hand in front of her face. Not because he wants to silence her, but rather halt her. They have reached another corner, this one leading to the right. However there is a door to their left. Trevor is peering around the corner and signals Ashley to hug the wall. Better a little dirty than dead.

"Can you hear that?" he says to her only loud enough for her to hear.

And when she focuses on it, she can do it too. She can hear scraping, scratching and above all stridulation with a metallic twang. Unmistakably, it is those bugs. Trevor pulls back and squats down next to Ashley.

"There's two of them. Clambering to get to the goodies in an electric panel. Sapping the power for their own consumption. I think they might be our culprits when it comes to our power problems. Bunch of leeches they are. We can't get past them without putting them out of our misery."

He checks with her but he can already see that she has his back on this one. One nod later and the sidearms are drawn.

"I go low, you keep standing up. No friendly fire."

"Got it."

"Good. On three. One... two...!"

On the metaphorical count of three Trevor comes around and on bended knee takes aim and pulls the trigger on one of the creatures sucking on the power. Heavy caliber Sunburst© projectile pierces it without any issue, leaving a big smoldering hole where its bug-eyed face used to be. It drops like a fly to the ground. Not even one second later the second gun is aimed. Not as high-caliber but deadly nonetheless. Three shots are fired, penetrating the creature's body as well but not going all the way through. It too drops down lifeless.

"Got em." Trevor mutters as he glances over his shoulder.

"Good shooting there, Deputy."

His tone is mostly genuine with only a hint of sarcasm with the last word.

"If I had the luxury of a big boy caliber, I would need only one shot too. But I prefer less recoil; straighter shot."

"Fair enough. Does the job so it seems."

Trevor gets back up to his feet and approaches the dead bugs. Before shamelessly stepping on the head of the one Ashley put down. It splatters like a rotten apple beneath his boot.

"Downside of small caliber; I've seen them get up even after three or even more shots to the body. Better safe than sorry eh?"

Ashley agrees non-verbally as the two make their way onwards as the hallway widens a little more ahead of them. Occasionally they can hear more stridulation. Above them, in the walls, in the vents and behind them. They know they are here. But the more they continue on, the more the noises dissipate into the background. Before disappearing completely.

Another bend is ahead of them, this one leading to the right again. Ashley volunteers to take point this time and Trevor holds back accordingly. She peeks around the corner and what she sees causes her to exclaim "Oh no!" at full volume before she covers her own mouth.

"What? What did you see there?" asks Trevor, both curious and on edge.

Ashley beckons him over so he can see for himself. And once he does, he has to hold an exclamation back too.

"I'm sorry about your pals Corporal." she says as the two look out over a hallway filled with several corpses of army soldiers surrounded by activated laser trip mines pointing in every which direction and a locked door at the end of it.

The state of the corpses is questionable, no decomposition yet but something or someone beat them to death with something blunt and heavy. It is particularly visible in their faces. Broken noses, dislocated jaws and many more facial deformities. They have been looted as well; boots, helmets and anything shiny or expensive looking has been removed. All they are left with is their tattered uniforms with the visible patch of their unit stitched to it.

"I did not know them personally but it's a damn shame for sure. ... thank you Ashley."

He grabs his rifle and looks down its scope to observe them better without getting anywhere close to the mines. He can read "62nd CBC" on the patch.

"Chemical. Biohazard. Contaminant. Military containment units? What are they doing here? That might explain why this place was already reinforced and armed. What happened here though?"

While Trevor continues to theorize, Ashley's ears pick up a faint thud coming from ahead of them. And after a few more it gets louder. She puts a hand on Trevor's shoulder and shakes him out of his philosophizing.

"Can you hear that?" she asks him now.

And yes, he can. Looking through his scope again he focuses on the door. Then both of them hear a loud thud and Trevor can see the door move and slightly bend their way. Something or someone is trying to get out.

"This was not an area for safe harbor... this was an area for containment! Whatever is behind there, was put there for a reason. The door seems to hold it for now."

"Small problem there Einstein." remarks Ashley coy.

"We need to get to that door to get the energy core. Or else won't matter what the purpose of this place was."

"I got that smartass. But I don't feel like unleashing a containment case. Unless we have a way out. Hmm... that door we passed by before. It looked quite similar. Can you go back and check if it can be opened? I have a feeling that we'll be safe in there in case we need to run."

"Sure thing." she says almost like she is questioning the point of it.

Without addressing it further, she leaves Trevor and goes back the way they came before. The scurrying of unknown critters is no longer here, not even faintly. It is nice to have silence but at the same time she is more alert. Her sidearm held tightly between her hands and finger on the trigger. Not long after she reaches the door and finds it unlocked. It feels heavy and takes considerable effort to push open as the hinges are not willing to cooperate either. It leads to a largely empty storage room. Only some scraps in cardboard boxes and a shelf with some cleaning supplies. Stepping inside, she checks the inside of the door and finds that it can only be locked from the inside. With a large bar with a locking nut on the wall to the left.

"So does he want to... hide in here when that thing breaks out?"

She observes the thickness of the door.

"If this door is anything like the one over there... it might work."

In agreement with herself, she keeps the door ajar in case it is necessary to retreat here and returns to Trevor. Strangely, walking back towards him has her feeling less tension than before. He is nothing like Silva or Felix, at least so far. Her first impressions of him were not very positive. He seemed very professional, not in the mood for a bit of fun banter. Another potential mouth to feed and more responsibility for her under Silva's watchful eye. Or given that he is military, he might try to be the next top dog. With bloodshed logically following. She has heard some horror stories from Darwin that pre-colored her image about him. As of now, he is only a threat to those that are a threat to her. And this includes her 'colleague' and 'boss'. He could be her ticket out of here too.

Soon enough she joins up with Trevor again. He has not moved at all; just breathing and peering through his scope. But he is aware enough to notice Ashley back within his vicinity.

"Welcome back. How was your excursion?"

"Uneventful."

She squats down just to the rear right of him.

"Your observation post?"

"Slightly more interesting. I noticed that the door was starting to bend a little bit just a few moments after you left. But despite its continued ramming, it has not progressed any further." he relays sarcastically disappointed.

Looking ahead, Ashley can see it is trying but failing. It is somewhat funny in how futile it is. However, they have to go there anyway. Those two bugs back there were not the reason at all.

"I got an idea. But it is very risky."

Trevor takes his eye off the lens of his scope.

"Risky how?"

Ashley looks back at him with a cheeky grin on her face.

"Oh nothing a soldier and a cop together couldn't fix. The hinges on that door are like the one back down the hall. Take those out and the door will give way on its own."

"Hm." he utters positively.

"And we leg it, hide and wait for that thing to go away?"

"With any luck those mines will do the trick. Or it gets bored with us and we have a go at the door leading back to the station. Give those up top a good scare too. It might even break through..."

Trevor raises an eyebrow as he notices her thought pattern go off the rail and Ashley notices the change in his facial expression.

"Either way, it would be gone and we can continue on our mission. Good plan?" she finishes.

Trevor puts his eye on target again.

"I've heard worse. Let's do it."

He pulls the bolt back to check the chambered projectile and pulls it forward again.

"Be ready to bolt; Imma bring the thunder!"

In quick succession the top and the lower hinges are struck and shot off. For good measure he also disables the deadbolt locks near the doorknob as well. Three empty cases hitting the floor function as a starting whistle as the door then starts to buckle after only one slam from 'it'. And it deteriorates quickly. Trevor stands up and goes to check on Ashley to his right but notices an empty spot. She took his advice too literally and has already scurried away like an olympic sprinter going for gold.

With a magnificent crunch, the space between the top of the door and the frame is pierced by a violet scythe-like claw. It slashes wildly from side to side before cutting straight down, getting stuck fairly quickly however. It is of no consequences as with one last slam the door flies open and falls on the floor before it. And 'it' is not looking very friendly.

The creature lets out a loud roar, tainted by corrupted processing noises. Like a malfunctioning decoder machine. It stands on its thick hind legs, its back opening up to reveal its wings, like a beetle. The wings are tattered and ripped, however its goal is probably not to fly but to intimidate. It has its soft belly showing like an overturned cockroach. But it looks somehow fluid? Its front legs are up in the air, heaving like a proud horse before crashing down on the floor, leaving none to subtle cracks on the floor. Its face is now visible; as if they covered a rugby helmet in a shining purple glaze with 4 red eyes like car indicator lights burning from behind the 'bars'. The shiny glaze is everywhere on the armored exterior of this thing. Unmistakably, this is the leech. This is a proper Aparoid. Not like those babies back there.

"Hello ugly. I thought we mopped up all of you in this area."

Showing no observable fear and displaying rather cocky behavior in front of an agitated metaphorical bull as he pulls the bolt back to manually refill his rifle.

"Clearly we should have been more thorough."

The bolt closes and he aims right at the Aparoid's head.

"I will be now."

The trigger is pulled and almost silently the round travels towards its target. Straight in between the eyes. The target is struck but the armor does not break. It ricochets off and lands harmlessly on the floor. That makes him look up in amazement. And then, as if to suggest it was its turn now, the Aparoid utters a low grunt and guns it straight for Trevor. With no regard for the laser mines around it as they detonate one by one. They chip off pieces of armor and fling the creature to the walls but once it is back on its feet it goes like a beast possessed.

Trevor's eyes go wide and he does not waste one moment longer here. He starts running as fast as he can while the Aparoid is forcing its way through the mined hallway. Armor plates and loose mines dance wildly in the air of the confined environment behind him. The door is in sight. It is closed but Ashley is surely behind it.

Suddenly a high-pitched beep is heard too close to him for comfort; one of those mines that was strewn about ends up thrown clear from the Aparoid and is now a few meters behind him.

He does not even have time to utter something provocative before it goes off. The explosion rocks him and throws him off his feet to land mercilessly on the floor. For a few moments, the world goes black and only ringing ears exist. Forcibly peaceful. If he were conscious, he might just have enjoyed it.

He jolts back into the world of the living and finds hope in front of him in the form of Ashley's extended hand and doom behind him as the Aparoid has passed its mine obstacle course, audibly angrier than before. He makes his choice with hesitation and legs it with Ashley acting as support. Together they make it back to the door and they make their way inside. Ashley puts Trevor down against the far wall and slams the shutter bar down on the door. She holds her ear to the door to hear the Aparoid approach. She tries but she can hear nothing through the door.

It is a haunting silence ripped straight out of a horror film. But there is no director here. No fake effects or film crew. Just them in a room with the only way out now being their sole reason for being alive.

And their reason's resolve is tested shortly as with much force the Aparoid slams its weight into the door, sending Ashley back into a panic with a yelp. The banging is relentless and loud. On the verge of petrification, Ashley cannot act on her police training to draw her weapon nor go into full panic mode like her natural instinct demands. It goes on and on.

A noise like a quickly deflating tire rings through the room and the banging stops. In response a shriek like a car pulling the handbrake while going way beyond the speed limit. A bolt racks slowly and another tire is deflated in a flash. For the second and last time a bolt racks again and now there are three flat tires. There is one final bang but not against the door; it is something heavy falling on the floor behind the door.

Turning to her left, she sees the culprit; the smoking barrel of Trevor's rifle. Held by only his left hand in a rush of adrenaline. She now also sees that he has his right arm hovering over her upper chest like a protective parent having to brake suddenly in a car.

"Y-you think it's dead?" asks Ashley softly.

"I think so." answers Trevor between heavy breathes.

"I'm not keen on looking right now."

"Me neither. So uhm... could you?" she nudges to his arm.

"Hm? Oh yeah, sorry about that."

Trevor pulls it back from her and lets it rest beside him. The adrenaline is seeping away from his body so he puts his weapon on the ground and just makes himself comfortable against the wall.

"You mind if we stay here for a bit? That encounter sort of drained me."

"No. No argument from me. That was too intense for now." she sighs half relieved, half in disbelief.

"And uhm, thanks for the help..."

"Tit for tat. You picked my carcass up from the floor first so consider us even." he winks at her.

"Carcass?"

She playfully jabs him with her shoulder.

"You aren't an old man. You are a soldier."

"I'm 28 years old; I already feel me ol' hips." he groans overplayed.

"There's a reason they put my quote on quote experienced ass on the front line."

"The faster you are gone you mean?"

Trevor puffs while grabbing his trusty Metro Society bottle.

"The average age of the army now consists of bedwetters and meathead grunts aged 16. Easy pawns to put on a board."

"16? Not 18 like normal?"

"What can I say? This... Fucking war. Excuse my French there."

He hands her the water bottle to share and she accepts it.

"So me with my 23 years-old would not have a chance?"

"Don't bother." he tells her while she takes a big swig from the bottle.

"You are too old for them. Not even with your experience from law enforcement."

Ashley wobbles her head at the mention of the word "experience".

"I wouldn't call two years of desk work and only three months of field service exactly that."

"Judging from your attitude and the injury you've sustained..."

Trevor points at the black eye he saw when he first met her, which Ashley in realization of this tries to cover up as best as possible. However she does so skittishly, like she is weary of something or someone else. Not noticing this, Trevor goes on.

"It's better than nothing I'd say. I mean I've been in the service for a few years now. I don't feel any better than when I started out."

"You just shot your sniper one-handed three times. Do not even start with that." she sputters more invigorated.

Trevor shrugs.

"Adrenaline is one hell of a drug." he chuckles as Ashley joins in.

When the fun dies down a bit, he admits that he has been in service for too long. He should have been out already but he took one last deployment because they were beyond short on men at that moment.

"That's military bureaucracy for ya. It is almost competent."

He shakes his head as he gets his bottle back from Ashley.

"So you were free but you chose to go back? It's almost like you are a mercenary."

"That's how I feel most of the time now."

He picks up his sniper rifle and puts it in between them.

"Does this look like standard issue to you? This is my own creation. Outdated? Yes. In function, appearance and decoration. Reliable?"

He falls silent for a moment staring at it.

"You bet."

"Black market?" she asks.

Trevor perks up.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

She grabs her own sidearm and puts it next to his rifle.

"That is not standard issue police gear either."

Observing it he can definitely tell this is a hotch-potch design. An almost mint engraved grip, a matching custom long slide but the trigger and the sights have seen better days. The magazine looks like it could fall out at any moment and yet it stays where it is put in.

"It looked worse before." she admits.

"I tried my best. I think I sunk more money into this thing than I ever earned. But it was necessary. The big boss wasn't gonna pay for my ability to defend myself."

At the end she sounds almost defeated. And Trevor understands this very well.

"I'd say you did the best with what you had. And I am not disappointed with it and neither is its operator."

Ashley is taken aback by his comment but eventually a humble smile adorns her face.

"Same to you then." she comments while facing away from him.

Just for a moment though as she picks her weapon back up from the floor and observes it.

"Yeah. Only three months and this weapon already did wonders. Only shot it a few times. Never aimed, only warning shots. Field work was both a blessing and a curse."

"That bug was your first kill?" he says, impressed.

Ashley smiles more broadly at him, positively glowing.

"You got a killer instinct there, Deputy. We could use that in the ranks."

"Are you recruiting me? At my old age?"

"I think age-restrictions are bull anyway. I think I know a way around it. Something very ceremonial. Honorary. Just give you a rank to make you feel important. Like Silva did to me I suppose. Only if you are interested. Don't expect any money increase though."

Ashley rolls her eyes.

"Please. I'm sure anything would be better than the pittance that I receive on a by-monthly basis."

"Lemme guess, no budget for that as well?"

"10 points to the Cornerian Army."

"I wanna guess the reason for bonus points."

Ashley gestures for him to go on. With a flair for theatrics and drama, he plucks at his mustache as if he is some ancient philosopher before pressing an imaginary buzzer.

"I know the answer. Is it an overpriced group of mercenaries with somehow more ego than greed?"

"Almost correct! We just need the name."

"Shall we say it together?"

Ashley nods in agreement.

"On 3! 1."

"2."

"3! Star Fox!." they say almost in unison as the finishing act.

They chatter on about how much they cannot stand those money leeches. Calling them every bad word under the sun. From windbags to war profiteers and having a hearty laugh about it.

"I think you and I are on the same wavelength." suggests Trevor after the fun interaction.

And Ashley nods in agreement.

"Are you still recruiting then?" she asks suddenly without a hint of sarcasm.

Slightly surprised by her directness, Trevor quickly adopts.

"Call me your recruiter then; Corporal Trevor DeLange. I will be your superior and if you are sure, you are in."

He offers his hand to her. Of course without any actual qualifications or constraints of recruitment. And she shakes his hand in recognition of this. He salutes her and she does it back. All according to protocol that was just made up.

"Excellent. Then may I welcome you to the army, Private Ashley..."

"Hare. Ashley Hare."