Let Art Be Our Weapon: Frerard/Killjoys Epic

Coming Home to the Hospital

          I hold my blaster in my hands, finger over the trigger. Ray kneels next to me. We are on our way home when Frank tells us the readings he's getting says there are Draculoids coming in our direction. I drive the car down a steep incline and Ray helps me cover her up. Kemia Enamiĝo. Frank named the car. He got it from some foreign language, Esperanto I think? I don't recall the English translation for that matter. I just remember that I liked what the translation is and how it sounds. Frank and Woody went off to get a closer reading to report to Alec. They haven't returned in half an hour but I'm not worried. It takes time but after spending three years in the zones with my team, we become connected and in sync. We learn how to work together to the height of our abilities. It strengthened my trust with Woody after a month. I was wrong to feel jealous of him. He is my friend. He is a great guy and I learn to get over myself and enjoy his company genuinely. The zones aren't too bad. Once you know how to survive them, it becomes home. Where to look for water, food, and material. My first week driving out was nerve wrecking. Being 15, I was worried I wouldn't have the guts to kill or know how to live. But with those masks on and them shooting at us and the distinct memory of what they did to my parents, I found it wasn't as hard to pull the trigger as I thought it would be. It's either them or us, and I'm not about to give up my friends' life over an enemy stranger.
Three years has given me a lot of experience. One of the biggest things I have to do is trust better judgment. If you feel someone behind you, look. If you feel a gun pointed at you, arm yourself. If you feel that the person you stumbled across is lying and waiting for you to turn your back so they can stab you, check for weapons and never leave them out of your sight. There is always a chance you can die. There could be a sniper aiming at the back of your head or a bomb with five seconds counting down as you unknowingly walk closer to it. This life runs the risk of death a lot higher than standard living. But BL/ind taking over and freedom or actual living isn't a choice. The Draculoids and Bounty hunter are not soldiers. What they are is a corrupt industry killing other to protect their rights of power. The price we fight as soldiers are possibly dying to protect someone else's rights to individuality and creativity.
Ray takes out a scope and raises it above his head and over the ledge. "Looks like there isn't anybody there so the shooters are either hiding or they moved on," he says.
"Why would they move on? If they saw Killjoys, they would hunt them down. Unless.." I trail off.
Ray looks at me. "Party, you aren't saying you think they found them?"
"It's been half an hour at least, maybe longer. I don't think they are captured but maybe they got distracted."
Ray raises his gun and points it over the ledge the same time he peeks his head up for a second and ducks back down. "There isn't anyone. We might as well go while we still have a chance."
I nod. We stand and raise our blasters. We hike over the ledge and start treading across the zones looking for any signs of life. We walk a great distance without any progress. We might as well be the only one for miles. Someone was shooting at us and Frank and Woody are still out here. "Maybe they ditched them but can't find us. Maybe they are back at the car?" I ask. Frank would want to get us back together. He doesn't like being split up because in a group we are strong. If we separate, we are easier to pick off.
Ray considers this. "He would want to get us united and the only place we would go to for certain is the car. It would be the most logical place," he adds. "We might as well. And if they're not, we could wait for them or drive around. We will find them." We turn around and head back to the car but keep our weapons drawn. You also naturally learn your surrounding. The certain dead tree, a small ditch, or a large stick tell you where you're at. The valley where we parked Kemia comes in my line of sight.
An explosion erupts from the valley and thick black smoke rise from the ditch. Shouts and blasts echo. A cry, Frankie screams out. Something inside me twists up at the sounds of Frank hurt. I don't have to look at Ray. We know there is bad trouble and we start running. My stomach knots up and my eyes sting as imagines of what I find below comes to my head.