Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Chapter One: “Cold”
I felt like I woke up from a strange dream, when a sharp light hit my eyes. I put my hand in front of my eyes, blocked the worst of the blinding light.
“You´ just gonna´ keep staring into nothing, or are you going to help me eat todays rations?” It came from the tent.
“Huh?... I mean, yeah, sure.” I tiredly said. Caylee turned off her headlight, revealing her standing with a pack of newly heated soup.
“You aren’t listening are you?” I lifted my head with a wide smile on my lips.
“Nope, not at all.” She shrugged her shoulders before pouring soup in her cup. She pulled away the tent door.
“So you wanna´ come inside?”
When I turned around after closing the door, I was pleasantly surprised. Caylee had set up a dining table and seating, out of our supply crates and some blankets, and had lit the lantern instead of the loft-lamp. Way gentler for the eyes.
“You know me too well, you do know that right?” Caylee made a short laugh.
“Someone has to make sure you don’t fall asleep inside your helmet, so it might as well be me.” She handed me a cup of soup. As I reached for the cup, I tilted my head.
“Arrh, I knew you cared about me.” I said with a playful tone. She quickly turned her gaze down at her soup, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh shut up Toentt.” I could see she blushed, slightly.
The soup hit the spot. The warmth was dearly needed. Even though we were inside the padded tent, it was still cold, so a nice cup of soup could never hurt.
“Ill wash the dishes this time, I owe you that much for making dinner.” Caylee simply responded with an eased sigh and a smile when she gave me her cup.
Outside was almost pitch black; the moon just barely lit up the abandoned streets. Silence filled the air, only the slight breeze carrying the snow broke the silence.
I started up the generator to heat up the water-pump. The damn cloud-season was the only thing keeping us from using solar arrays. Of course, nature has to take its´ course, for better or for worse… I guess.
Not that I think it’s the most useful thing, to guard the old ruins of “The second Quais Empire”, we already won, and most civilians have been moved to the refugee camps, but I do my part for the Union, I suppose. Of course, our´ camps are the ones people flock too. We don’t require that you have “needed job skills” to receive food, shelter, and medicine, since otherwise you might “hinder progress”.
In addition, they write you up for what you use, make you repay the value later. The republic just loves placing people in debt, best way to control the public. We´ just let you in the camp, get you something to eat, have a school-tent for your kids to lean, while you and yours get a tent to sleep in, and they call us´ a-moral.
I guess I understand where they are coming from, living in the dessert, limited water and space. You have to mind whom you let in (and how many), or else everyone´ dies. We have more room, more water, or snow most of the time, that gives us the ability to not be as choosy about who we let in.
As I started scrubbing, a faint flicker of light slowly moved down the frozen streets. I immediately dropped the dishes in the snow, and reached for my rifle-holster on my back, before realizing my rifle was inside the tent.
Good thing I kept my 8-shot revolver on my belt at all times, mostly since I often forget I have it on me. I drew it, and started approaching the flicker of light, which seemed to move slowly towards me. As closer inspection became easier, with me moving closer and all, the light turned out to be from a lighter, held by a woman with two children.
I holstered my pistol, and turned on my headlight, pulled it out of its socket, and waved it in the air, to signal they could move closer.
The two kids looked terrified the second they saw me, made sense, people dressed like me, invaded their country.
The young woman, probably barely past her teenage years, tried to calm the kids down, as well as herself, both to no avail.
I slowly bowed down, to the child on the right, with blonde hair and ponytails. I tilted my head, and with a friendly voice asked.
“Do you have a name little girl?” In Quaisian.
“Uh, I’m Anna.” She looked more shy than afraid now. Good, progress.
Apparently, that was enough to remove focus, and place it somewhere with less crying was involved. The young woman looked slightly relieved.
“And who are your friends?” The little girl smiled. Exited, she pointed, first at the boy, then at the young woman.
“That’s Johann, and that’s Lara.” She sudently went silent for a second. She looked at me.
“What’s your´ name mister?” She was halted completely by her slight confusion.
“My name? Toentt Rovalia.” Her smile became wider.
“That’s a funny name.”
“Well, to me yours is too.” She smiled.
After a little small talk with what turned to be a girl wrapped in a, three times her size, torn up coat holding a teddy bear. I turned to the young woman again.
“Why are you here?” I never fully mastered speaking Quasian, better than most of my comrades though. Some saw my thick accent as a problem, I just think is adds flavor to my words, or something.
“Can I help?” I asked when an answer didn’t come.
She tried to stand still, didn’t work. She was shaking, trying to form words.
“It’s ok, I get why you might not trust me, I rely do, but I am here to help.” She slowly looked up at me.
“And I can’t help you, if I don’t know what’s wrong, ok?” I calmly explained to her. She took a deep breath, before explaining her story:
They were apparently part of a small group, traveling north to join their relatives and friends who had already traveled to Union refugee camps. Alas, when they entered the dead city, bandits scavenging the warzone for scrap and valuables, ambushed them. Who took most of what they had, including most of the women, claiming it (and them) as their property. When what was left of the group started to resist, the scavengers started shooting.
I could see she was getting teary-eyed, as her voice began quavering. She told me she got free from the clutches of a bandit, (by kicking him repeatedly in the groin), and ran, avoiding the firefight as it began, finding the two kids in a nearby building who had the same idea, they got away before getting completely lost in the ruins.
“And that’s when you found me´?” She started shaking, tears began to drip down into the snow.
“Yes.” She hesitantly said.
I stepped closer to her, reaching for her face to wipe away her tears. She didn’t move a muscle as I did so.
“Is there anything I can do?” She didn’t respond.
She suddenly collapsed; fell to her knees, and started pulling my leg as she started to beg me.
“Please… Please help them!” She burrowed her face in my clothes, slightly muffling her crying. I felt terrible. For a while, I stood in shock, staring at the helpless woman, having no idea of what to say, having no idea what to say to make it better, make the pain go away. I felt powerless.
When she looked back up at me, with her sky-blue teary eyes. I was paralyzed. Seeing others in agony was always the worst part of this job, way worse when they are civilians, having nothing to do with the fighting in the first place, how I hate suffering.
I gently pulled her back up on her feet; looked her in her eyes, even though she could not see mine through the tinted screen covering my eyes and the scarf that wrapped up the rest of my face. Still felt more personal though.
“I… I will try. ” She looked like she did not believe me. Either that or she was freezing too much to express that she did. I looked down at the kids, shaking from the cold.
“But, how about I get you three warmed up first?” It´s in situations like this I’m happy to be a field-translator, so worth the extra years. Even if I spoke half of the languages, like a ten-year old.
Caylee was standing looking confused at the generator, heating up the still running water-pump. Only when she turned it off, could she hear our footsteps behind her, slowly heading towards her. Out of shear reflex, she drew her gun and pointed it towards the sound. The kids froze in place, and the young woman kept looking at her feet, still shaking. I quickly stepped (almost jumped rely) in front of them.
“Wow! Caylee, calm down, I found a couple of civilians, scared, cold, and probably hungry… Erhh, could you please stop pointing your gun at me now… please?” She shook her head, as if she just woke up from a daydream, and then paused.
“I was wondering where you went…” She lowered her gun, and cracked a smile. Before continuing.
“I thought you just ran from the dishes.” I shrugged my shoulders.
“And that´s why you were pointing a gun at me?” I suddenly remembered the three people behind me.
“Erhm, we rely need to start focusing on helping these three; they need attention more than I do.” She rushed over to the tent, and opened the door.
“Toentt, you’re terrible, you do know that right?” I made a short laugh.
“When have I ever claimed I’m not?” She shook her head in response.
“Guess you never have.”
Inside the tent, the kids became more relaxed, or at least more distracted. Caylee began heating water for a new round of soup.
I opened up the box with our spare blankets and gave one for them to share; they huddled together on the sofa, good thing we got that´ through the door, and wrapped it around themselves. I turned to Caylee, and pulled her aside.
“Do we still have that some canned food left? Some canned beans or something.” Caylee turned around and casually tipped the crate with our cans, with her foot. Only empty cans rolled out, filling the floor.
“Doesn’t seem like it… Should I scavenge some buildings for more?”
“Don’t bother, at least not now… We only scavenge when we need to. We still have enough soup, to last us for two weeks.”
“That’s for two´ people. We don’t know for how long we can or have to take care of these three, so why not stock up now?” I took a deep breath.
“Because, there are more civilians out there, in captivity… By war-profiteers…” Her face froze in place, before turning to anger. I continued.
“…And I’m going to go after them, so we might need way more food than we can gather anyway.” I realized that I sounded more serious than I’m used to, meaning I sounded serious at all. Caylee grabbed her rifle from atop the makeshift shelf.
“So, when are we going?” I placed my hand on her gun, slowly lowering it.
“I´ am going now…” She looked surprised, like waiting for a never coming punch line for a joke.
“You, need to stay here´ to take care of these three...” She raised an eyebrow, in disbelief of what I said.
“What? Are you kiddi-” I raised a finger to indicate I wasn’t finished.
“…and cover my ass if command finds out that I left my post.” She looked like she finally recognized me.
“Toentt, c’mon… Don’t leave me hanging like this.” She was clearly disappointed, yet she still gave me a slightly coy smile. She was acing for some action, being bored does that now and then.
“Caylee, these three need protection, as well as a caring hand. They’ve got both if you stick with them.” She looked at the floor, and gave a nod.
“Ok, just don’t be gone too long.”
“I’ll be back before you know it.” I gave a short goodbye-wave to the kids, before picking up my gear.
“Just be careful.” It came from Caylee, as I closed the door.
The wind picked up when the tent was no longer in sight. It was still dark as hell. Snow began to fly down from the buildings, forcing me to turn on my headlight, if I wanted to see more than two feet in front of me.
In doing so, it did make me more vulnerable, since it would be easy to spot me approaching from afar, but it was either that´, or let the snow ruin my eyesight.
If I ever wanted to track the hostages down, I had to speed up before the tracks disappeared. I suppose that my own tracks would be impossible to find by the time I found the civilians. That was a second priority; I had to save them first, getting back comes later.
Never look down when walking the tightrope; all you do is increase your chance of falling.
After a while, the street began to widen out, and I came to a crossing. Specific tracks were impossible to find, since the snow was littered with footprints and what looked like drag marks. When I looked around, I saw why, this was the sight of the ambush.
Dead bodies, bullet holes, and broken crates, filled the street, alongside the old layer of death from the war. This place was a blood bath. Most of the corpses was lined-up against a wall, executed, while the others were scattered, the ones who tried to run. The three at camp was all that made it.
I needed a new strategy, if I got to higher ground I might have a better chance to see them; they could not have gone far in this storm. I walked over to the tallest (and most intact looking) building, and knocked down the door. After two hits with the bud of my rifle, the door flew off its hinges, and loudly thumped to the floor.
The place looked like it was once a general store, once. The rows of shelves were all emptied out. Most of their content was broken, lying on the floor, rotten. A broken sign, held by two chains (one now) over the door read, “The art of Customer-service” in Quasian.
A frozen body was huddled up under the counter, holding the corpse of a small child. Both were crushed under a big chunk of concrete. It looked like it broke from off the wall, and landed right on top of the counter, breaking through and hitting them both. Bombing victims. Best not to think about it, I can’t save the dead.
On the other end of the room was a staircase, leading up, but it was broken in half, thus blocking access to the upper floor.
I ran outside to check for a fire escape leading to the upper floors, the Quasians did think of themselves as invincible, but they were always playing it smart.
Sure enough, there was a red ladder on the backside of the building, leading up to the top floor. It was rusty, but it still looked sturdy enough to carry my weight.
The steps were either covered with ice or rusted beyond repair. There was a drainage pipe on the corner of the building, leading up to the top. Still intact, but it was even more rusty than the ladder, and looked like it could break any minute.
The ladder would have to do. Even if it would be one of the most embarrassing deaths in history, I could almost see the newspaper segments, “Soldier dies by slipping on a rusty ladder, landing face first in the pavement, like he thought he was in a diving competition.”
And I thought being shot by friendly fire was an embarrassment to the troops, but dying by slipping… That´ might be enough to improve our standard-issue shoes we get; well then, my death might mean something after all. That is if people will find me out here. Well, Caylee will probably go look. I guess I have to tempt fate. Yay me.
As soon as I made my step up the ladder, it was hard to keep balance. As I moved upward, the ladder began to screak. The bolts holding it, was what made the noise, not the ladder itself. A feeling of dread crept up on me.
Just ten more steps, nine, eight. The top bolts suddenly snapped, and the ladder slowly began to bend outward. I swung myself on the other side of the ladder, kicked off from the ladder-tip. I grabbed the ledge, just barely; a loud metallic snap came from below. Looking down, revealed the rusty ladder was lying in the snow. The rusty bolts had snapped, and the ladder itself, was had broken off into several pieces.
I pulled myself up and flipped my legs up on the roof. If it weren’t for my gloves, my hands would be all torn up by now. Quasian made leather is still the best, even over thirty years after they lost their prime. Good thing I found them, lucky me.
After I calmed down, and the adrenalin kick went away, I turned to face the streets; I saw the extent of the destroyed caravan. It was not only at the crossing, but also far down the road. A huge pile of briefcases and boxes was in the middle of the ruined caravan, set ablaze a while ago. “Burn what you don’t need”, a common raider tactic.
Rage began to boil-over; right down to the bone, I ached with loathing. My head began to scream for blood, my head kept shrieking the same burst of rage: “MAKE THEM PAY!”
Somehow, my anger was kept in check; I simply put, ignored it… somehow, though I don’t know how. Usually when I get this´ rage-filled, fire spits out my nose and I kidnap princesses and take them to an abandoned tower. Somehow, I kept my calm.
I saw a faint light, glimmering in the distance on the edge of town, campfires. I had my target.
