Winter Collapse

Chapter 2

"..."

"Yeah."

"They're completely destroyed."

"Yeah."

"And you want me to fix this?"

"...yeah."

Artisan and Captain gazed at the mess of scrap and metal, destroyed and bent beyond repair. The turrets were ravaged in a recent fight, and would be no help in any situation.

"This is the definition of a salvage title. You know that." He said. He walked over and rummaged through the pile. He was wearing deep black swat gear and a welding helmet, raised up against his blonde hair. A handmade billhook, pointed and sharp, was resting on his back.

"You can turn some of these parts into weapons, but there's not much I can do beyond scrapping it. Fixing would take forever." He picked up one of the mangled barrels and inspected every inch of it.

"So there's nothing you can do?" Captain asked.

"Again, it'll take forever." Mocked Artisan. "If you think I can fix this in a week, then you're as insane as Blaise." Captain paused at the name. They didn't speak of him, except for Artisan who had the audacity. Blaise left the team, probably dead by now.

They lost two turrets last night during the cold and harsh storms of the land. Anyone out there, scavengers, as they called them, would seek shelter of the warehouse Captain was responsible for.

"Did you ask Servo to fix this? He's made of scrap; I can imagine he could make good artillery out of this if he used parts of himself." Artisan's use of 'he' felt wild to imagine. Nobody knew where Servo came from, except for the fact they were hired for the team and nobody asked them questions. Artisan never liked Servo, he never liked anyone except for self-respecting engineers. Ones that knew how to make a thing or two with little to nothing.

"I did stop by Servo's an hour ago," Captain put a hand on the quad barreled machine gun strapped on his back. "Mainly the usual 'stop fighting' argument." He said. Artisan sneered.

"Well..." Captain hesitated, "can you fix for us?"

Artisan looked at Captain's vest, dressed with .50's and pockets.

"You got a cancer pole?" He asked. Captain without hesitation reached into his vest for the cigar pack and lighter. The rejected cigar laid at the bottom of his vest pocket. He'd save that for another time.

"Doesn't come with health benefits, but as long as you get those turrets fixed." As he lit his cigar for him, he heard small, subtle but otherwise alarming footsteps behind him. Mid-lighting, he dropped the lighter with a complaint from Artisan and released the machine gun off his back. Captain pulled the chord from the side of the gun and all 4 barrels sprung to life, rotating as he hesitated only seconds before his instincts demand he pull
the trigger. Artisan pulled the billhook from his back, looking behind himself occasionally.

"Who we lookin' for, Cap'n?" Said someone behind them. They both quickly swiveled to the noise like two automatic turrets. Captain lowered his gun in relief, but Artisan kept his defense up. The man behind them looked nothing older than 20. They were dressed in a white ghillie suit with heat vision goggles, staring right through your body. They were covered in snow, along with the spear they were holding closely to their body. Artisan let out a long sigh.

"Zach?" Asked Artisan.

"Mm?"

"Screw off."

"God, you engineers are no fun." Zach said. He was the youngest of the group, reminding Captain of his days back then. It almost seemed like he was unaware of the fact that they were stranded in an endless winter, in a holdout forever inside a warehouse. Artisan absolutely despised Zach, for all of his 'fooling around'. Most of the team tolerated him, not like they had anything better to do with all his energy. Although he was assigned to be an assassin or scout, he never gave off that energy.

"Cap'n, can I talk to you for a sec?" Captain glanced at Artisan who had already sat down and started rummaging through the scrap piles, picking things out and inspecting each piece with his unlit cigar clenched in his teeth, pissed off at Zach's interruption.

"Sure, Zach."

He and Captain started walking towards the warehouse, one boot planted in the snow after the other.

"Y'know um...Pathfinder?" Captain immediately knew where this was going, and he couldn't blame him at all.

"Yes?" Captain said, acting oblivious to the foreseeable near future.

"She's uhm...do you happen to know..." Zach stuttered beyond control. Captain decided to put him out of his misery.

"I'll assign you with her and I have no idea what she likes, but I do know that she never speaks, you're welcome." Zach's heat vision goggles immediately exploded a bright rosy-red. He8 patted Captain on the shoulder with high enthusiasm.

"Thanks! You're an absolute pal." He started off with a speed walk and changed gears into a full sprint toward the warehouse. Captain couldn't help himself but put on a wide toothy smile. He looked at the watch strapped on his wrist. It didn't matter what hour it was, but it did matter that the storm would be coming very soon. Every night, a blizzard would pick up, making others seek for warmth and shelter. The storm would never reach the warehouse, which is why it was so valuable to them. He wondered what happened to Swan. Whatever occurred, it definitely wasn't something he lived through. After the grim outcome of every storm, you would be able to see what was left. Or rather who was left in the cold. Sometimes you'd see piles of snow on top of icy cold, lifeless statues, knocked over onto the ground. Cold to the touch, hollow filled in with snow. Either way, they'll be getting visitors soon. It'll be time to prepare for the guests.