Treading through the Floridian desert is never a fun thing to do. It requires a lot of observation and patience; any person can snipe a poor disoriented drunk who was just so happening to be passing the desert. Just to make things clear, you don't want to be in the desert.
Welcome to Florida. The first thing anyone sees when entering the destroyed city of Miami. This is where Volg, our hero, was born. Volg has been alive for 19 years. A surprising feat, since most of the citizens in this barren wasteland barely live past the age of 12.
Volg resides in the outskirts of the city, close enough to the flea markets that are held in the middle of the city. Here, he spends most of his life slaving away for a couple coins. Since the dollar bill no longer existed, coins where the currency since they can be melted down and be made into bullets. In Volg's case, his coins go straight to food. He barely has enough to scrap for himself, making him run back to the flea market for more slaving. His adventure began one Tuesday morning when meeting his very first friend.
Chapter 1: Discovering A Friend
Volg finally has the day off. It's been months since he has last been able to walk around the Flea Market without having the need to deal with a large crowd of desperate, poor, annoying people. He gets to do what he wants. He puts up his hood, blocking the sun from his sight. He smiles widely, eager to observe people from a distance. He loves watching people get hustled. Even though he never hustled anyone in his life, he enjoyed the misery of watching others lose their money's worth for some old hunk of junk.
Surprisingly, there was one individual who differed from the rest. A foreigner maybe? He wore clothing that resembled the north; the young man wore a black flannel shirt and baggy sweatpants. He clearly did not belong here. That explains why he was the first to be swindled of his coins. Feeling bad for the schmuck, Volg decided to intervene. As Volg inches closer to the conversation the young man is having with the dealer, he starts smiling. Hearing the hustling going on.
The dealer cries out, "For god's sake man! You NEED this canteen. Do you want to die out in the desert? This canteen holds AND preserves water for hours. Do you think the other canteens in this world can do that? Well? "
The young man becomes reluctant to respond, "I... Uh- well..."
Volg lightly shoves the young man aside and stares directly at the dealer, "Hey, enough with the hustle, yeah? How about I tell the nice people around you that your canteens aren't worth shit. Will that stop you from spewing lies? Or do I need to do more?"
The dealer is struck with awe. He stares back at Volg, wondering who he is. After an intense stare down that lasts for a couple seconds, he flashes Volg with a smile, "Hey... I know you."
"... What?"
"Yeah... I know you. What's your name again? Volg? You're that poor boy a couple tents away from mine!" Figuring out the mystery of who the young man is, the dealer breaks into immense laughter. He cackles hard enough to begin coughing, "Here you are- Threatening ME. Boy, you're gonna get an earful from your superior."
Volg begins sweating. His throat is dry and he has nothing else to say, "I... Uh.."
The dealer closes in by grabbing Volg's shirt and pulling him closer for another confrontation. "I bet you wish you never messed with me, huh?"
"R-right. My friend and I-" Volg desperately looks over to the young man, shifting his eyes over to the dealer in a plea for help.
"Vesk." The startled individual answers.
"Are leaving now. We're reporting you to the military."
"Riiiiight, kid. Good luck with that. I'll have you beg for my forgiveness." The dealer reaches under his wooden table, grabbing a rifle and aiming it straight at the boys, "NOW SCRAM!"
Vesk and Volg quickly leave the mans tent, dashing away from harm. The man named Vesk looks over at Volg, "Hey... Volg, was it?"
Volg lays on the ground, regaining his breath. He starts slapping, smashing, and kicking the ground in a fit of anger, "Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT! I probably lost my job, and for what? "
"Thank you."
Volg looks over at Vesk, sighing loudly, "Yeah... Don't worry about it." He stands up, dusting off any sand on his clothing and begins to walk down the same path he walks to head home.
"Hey, Hey. I'm sorry you lost your job."
"Like I said, don't worry about it. Plus, we don't know if I lost that job. Most likely I did- and good riddance. That job was shit anyway."
"I can get you a new job."
Volg turns around, "Excuse me? A new job?"
"Yeah, one that will definitely pay you better. What do they pay you here?"
"Jesus... 7 coins for the whole day? 6 of it goes to food. And it's not a lot."
"Okay, come with me and I'll get you a new job. You seem like a nice guy- Which is not a bad thing, but for this line of work, it's not a very good trait."
"... What's your line of work?"
"We're mercenaries. We do odd jobs for whoever hires us."
"Odd jobs? What do you mean by that?"
"C'mon, you know exactly what we mean. If someone needs to disappear, we do it. If someone needs to be protected, we protect. Anything our sponsor asks us to do, we do."
"... And how long have you been doing this?"
"For a couple years. I suck at it. It's not my thing."
Volg stays silent for a long time. He ponders if this is the life he wants. What other life is there? He might lose his job, might as well pursue something new. Something he may be good at. "Yeah, Okay. I'll do it. Count me in."
Vesk smiles widely, completely content with Volg's answer, "Yeah, Awesome!" He wraps his arms around Volg, "Listen, you won't regret this. And we plan on using you a lot. Since we're new here, we have no idea where to go and what to do."
"What? You're new here?" Volg searches through his memories, recalling the moment when he first met Vesk and almost getting hustled.
"Yeah... Must've been your first time in a flea market in Florida, huh? You almost got swindled." Silence fills the air for a split second, "Hey... You said 'we' a lot when you were talking about the mercenary job. Who's 'we'?"
"Ah." Vesk smiles, "WE is my family. They're here in Florida. We decided to move here. We came from someplace very cold; So we decided to move to someplace hot."
"... Glad you moved here. Can I meet your family?"
"Yeah, of course." Vesk stares at Volg, "Where's your family?"
"Oh.." Volg looks away from Vesk, "Uh, My brothers are gone. They went up north to do some work. They're expected to come down soon."
"Ah. Okay."
"Hey.. Thanks for this. I don't usually talk to people, but you're different from the rests. Maybe its because you're a newbie here." He laughs and mumbles under his breath.
"Yeah? Well, I'm glad I can help you out. You kinda did help me out and I got you fired a bit. So, we're even, yeah?" He raises his hand, waiting for a high five.
Volg looks over, smacks his hand and laughs.
It's been a while since Volg has seen his family. He hasn't talked to many people. The only person he's had contact with for the past couple of months has been Vesk and the annoyinf customers of the Flea market
"Although.. We need more people to join our team." Vesk says uncomfortably
"How many people are we talking?" Volg asks, concerned.
"A lot. We need money to come in now."
"Okay... So let's find some potential mercenaries."
Chapter End
