[Tori]

Day One: Fresh Start

All he could smell was death.

From the moment he stepped out of the car, he could smell it. The stale, almost sweet stench of decaying bodies. They were probably underground, from what he could infer from the soft overtones of soil and cedar wood, but it bothered him nonetheless. He felt like there was a type of filthiness on the air, coating his airway with the writhing stench. By the time he got his bags out of the trunk of his car, he was cursing his hypersensitive sense of smell. Stupid, stupid, he scowled, roughly pulling the heavy bags up off of the ground and trudging angrily toward the door. The smell bothered him. It reminded him of things he didn't want to be reminded of.

He flicked on the light in his new apartment and was greeted by sterile white walls and grey anti-static floors like that found in the many hospitals of the city. There was one square deep-set window on the north wall, and straight ahead from the door was a small kitchen. There were some simple outdated appliances laying on the counters of the kitchen with their cords wrapped around them. The place hadn't been touched in months, but it seemed to be immaculate. Perhaps staying here wouldn't be such a problem, after all.

He dropped his luggage to the floor with a hard thud. He wasn't too concerned about anything that was in them. He'd left all of his equipment at home, save for the few things he had in the small backpack slung over his shoulder. The bedroom was to the far right of the living-room-slash-entryway area. It was small, but it would do. It was the only part of the apartment that had carpeting, and Alexander frowned at this. It was the same sterile white as the walls, but there were track marks that led from the bed to the bathroom, and to the door. He would have to fix that soon enough. The bed itself was barely that. There was no bed frame or box springs, just a mattress laying on the floor. This, he didn't mind so much. He gingerly set his equipment on the bedside table, then flopped onto the bed. It felt nice to actually lay down after the past twelve hours of driving. The death-stench wasn't quite as apparent from inside the apartment. That was something he could get along with.

His job started at seven in the morning, two days from now. He had gotten a full-time job in the emergency room at a hospital down the road. He usually didn't like working with people, but hopefully this job would get him over his antisocial habits. This particular hospital was the one where most of the critical patients and victims of violence ended up. There wasn't so much of the usual, "I have a bellyache, gimme pain meds" bullshit here as there was in other hospitals. Granted, it wasn't the prettiest thing to look at, but the care was exceptional. It didn't really matter that it looked like an awful clinic from the 80's, as long as the care wasn't as primitive as the architecture and colour schemes, he didn't mind.

[1]

[Tori]

...







"Get down!"

A bombshell went off a few yards away from the foxhole with an ear-splitting bang, slamming its inhabitants against the frozen embankment. Alexander's helmet and shoulder collided with the hard dirt, knocking his weapon from his numb hands. His ears were ringing from the explosion, and all he could hear was the rapid thudding of his own heart and the rush of blood in his ears. He groaned at the pain radiating from his shoulder.

"...!"

Captain was shouting something at him, but he couldn't hear what he was saying.

"...here!"

"What?" he shouted in response, as another bomb landed about ten yards ahead of them. They both flinched and ducked, avoiding a curtain of wet snow and rocky dirt. Slowly, the ringing in his ears began to subside.

"Fucking retreat, Sahnder! Retreat! Get the fuck out of here!"

He quickly fumbled for his gun. The frigid air had sapped all of the feeling from his fingers, rendering them almost completely numb--all he could feel was a stinging pain when he touched things. He let out a grunt of frustration as he took his eyes away from the battlefield to grab the rifle. Another bombshell, this time slightly further away. Men cried out in agony as dirt rained down over Alexander and the other men in the foxhole. A spatter of gunshots quickly quelled the screeching.

The air reeked of the metallic stench of blood and gunpowder. There was a fire raging nearby in the forest, casting an angry light over the battlefield. The stained snow glowed a flickering orange in the quickly fading light. The captain was shouting again, above the guns.

"Dammit, they'll see us with the fire," Captain growled, clenching his fist against the wall of packed dirt. "Alright, on the count of three, we make a run for it--there's another foxhole between here and the base, about twenty yards behind us. Stay as low as you can, and we might be able to make it."

The ground lurched violently as a bombshell landed ahead of them, closer this time than before. The captain winced and ducked down further, pulling Alex down by his shoulder. Captain shook his head in an attempt to regain his hearing. He shouted just loud enough to be heard over the ringing in his own ears, and hopefully loud enough for Alex to hear him.

"One."

A spray of bullets flung morsels of dirt onto their helmets. Alex kept his eyes on the captain's. Captain wasn't much older than him, still a kid. He was just as scared as he was. His face was as white as a sheet, his eyes wide and his breath coming in ragged pants. He swallowed his fear, hunkering down as bullets whizzed over their heads.

"Two."

Something flashed in Captain's eyes that made Alex uneasy. Captain drew a deep breath, squeezing Alex's shoulder as if it was the last thing he had to hold on to. It was then that he knew what was going on. There was no base left. There was no camp. An eerie draft blew through the foxhole.

They're all dead.

"Captain," Alex choked out, swallowing the lump in his throat, "We're going to die, aren't we?"

Captain's eyes filled with a deep sorrow that made the boy's stomach turn. He set his jaw, biting back tears. He cupped his hand around the back of the boy's neck, leaning his helmet against his, speaking just loudly enough to hear over the gunshots. "You listen to me, Sahnder. We'll make it out of this. As long as we're still breathing, we've got a chance. Now, pick up your gun, and let's get out of here."



Never had twenty yards seemed so long. Alex met the captain's eyes just before they made their sprint toward the woods. With Captain's nod of approval, Alex dashed forward, struggling to keep his footing in the wet snow.

But instead of hearing Captain's gear rattling beside him, he heard the spattering of gunshots--this time, much closer. He whirled around, expecting to see an enemy soldier, but instead was met by the sight of Captain with his weapon raised, firing headlong into the enemy fire.

Before he could protest, a bombshell landed not two yards away from Captain, blinding Alex with the explosion and throwing him hard onto his back.






He awoke bolt-upright in the dark, his body drenched in a cold sweat. He sat there shaking for a long moment, trembling, slowly realising that it was only a dream.

He swore, drawing his knees up and resting his forehead on them. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his erratic breathing. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs, causing a throbbing headache and making his throat feel like it was being squeezed shut--he took several deep breaths, slowing bringing down his heart rate, but the headache persisted.

Tossing aside the covers and pulling on some trousers, he made his way to the kitchen. His flatmate was still awake, watching trashy late-night television.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice coming out more raspy than he would have liked.

"You look like shit."

"I know. Do you have any meds?"

"Headache?"

"Yeah."

"I've got some ibuprofen next to the fridge."

"Thanks."



[Alex: 2] [Lachlan: 1]