Claws of Fate

Camp Lehigh

Camp Lehigh~Present

The truck rumbled to a stop, and the darkness seemed to press in from all sides. As we stepped out, the old military base loomed ahead, its outline barely visible against the night sky. My stomach twisted with the familiar unease. Camp Lehigh—this place was a ghost from my past, its memory haunting and heavy. It had been so different back in 1943. Now, it was an abandoned wasteland, a stark contrast to the vibrant camp I once knew.

I tried to push the flood of memories back, focusing on the present. Natasha, absorbed in her phone, was scanning the coordinates, her face lit by the faint screen glow. Steve, meanwhile, was rummaging through the truck bed.

"This is it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as we approached the locked gate.

Natasha didn't look up from her phone. She shut it off and slipped it into her back pocket, her expression unreadable. "The file came from these coordinates," she said.

Steve walked over, a blue and red shield strapped to his arm. The sight of it brought a mix of confusion and amusement. "So did we," he said, giving me a knowing look. He approached the gate, eyeing the rusty lock with practiced ease.

Without a word, he raised his shield and brought it down with a powerful force. The metal lock shattered with a resounding clang, and the gate creaked open. Natasha moved ahead, stepping confidently into the darkened space.

I glanced at Steve's shield, still baffled. "You didn't have that back in training," I joked, trying to deflect the tension I felt.

Steve chuckled, his smile a bit sheepish. "There's a lot to catch you up on," he replied his tone light but with an edge of sincerity.

As we followed Natasha inside, the silence of the base wrapped around us. The abandoned buildings loomed, their broken windows and overgrown weeds painting a picture of neglect and decay. Each step I took felt heavier, weighted with the echoes of my past and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As we moved deeper into the base, the air grew colder, the emptiness more pronounced. Natasha pulled out her phone again, her eyes scanning the ruins.

The soft beeping of her device cut through the silence, a mechanical reminder of our mission. I could almost feel the weight of the past pressing down on me.

"This camp is where Steve and I were trained," I said, voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. I could sense Steve's gaze on me, and I knew he was lost in his own memories. The place was a shadow of its former self, a ghost of the training grounds we once knew.

"Change much?" Natasha's voice was tinged with curiosity as she walked along the crumbling buildings.

"A little," Steve replied, his tone serious. He and I stood in silence, taking in the desolate landscape. It was as if the very ground beneath us was echoing with the memories we both carried.

I could feel the weight of Steve's presence beside me, his own past mixing with mine in a shared silence. As I stood there, the memories surged forth, unbidden.

The scene shifted in my mind, a flashback vividly replaying in front of me. I was back in the Devil's Brigade, training alongside Victor and James. The camp was bustling with activity, but the intensity of the training never waned. I could hear Steve's distant voice being yelled at, urging him to pick up his pace and fall in line with the other soldiers.

I saw myself then, younger and more hopeful, practicing my drills with my brothers. We were all together, our camaraderie evident despite the brutal training. Victor cracked a joke, his laughter infectious, and James joined in. We were a team, and for a moment, the harshness of our training faded as we shared a moment of levity.