I n f i n i t u m

Chapter Eighteen

Sergeant Major Lefevre waved off Staff Sergeant Beckett's salute and lifted a well-groomed brow as he assessed me from head to toe. How could someone have such perfect eyebrows in the apocalypse? Not to mention that he had nice hair— his head was shaved in an undercut, the ebony hair on top glossy and styled neatly. Who the fuck had the time to keep their hair in great condition in an apocalypse? Also, weren't the Marines a bit strict regarding hair regulations? 

Nonetheless, I wondered, who was his barber, and if he could hook me up. 

"Welcome to the Marines," he said, "take a seat."

I turned my attention on him, but the man already turned around to sit at the corner of his desk. Begrudgingly, I lowered into one of the two sofa-seats.

"So you're a Hero from Bethel Stronghold."

I raised my brows at his statement, "I don't remember disclosing that..."

"You didn't," he said, "your mannerisms gave it away. I can tell a product of the Arsonian Project when I see one."

I didn't know whether what he said was a compliment or not, but something told me that it wasn't. I crossed my arms and bit onto my tongue to keep in a nasty remark. It probably wasn't appropriate to call a Sergeant Major an asshole upon first meeting.

"I didn't know there were other Strongholds apart from Bethel city and the other three," I furrowed my brows, "how did you guys manage to survive in the dark zone? Were you here ever since...ever since the Disarray?"

"Bethel city kept a lot of things from their people for selfish reasons Strongholds apart from the Union do not agree with," he drawled, "but this is another conversation for another time."

I was disappointed that he'd left me hanging after revealing such information, but I didn't have the nerve to demand more, given my current situation. I only just got here and they most likely wouldn't hold back on kicking us back out if they see fit. Resources were barren out there and another day surviving off of scraps would not cut it. Once we finished up our introductions, I was going straight to the cafeteria to get some food. I needed to work on getting my old body back and sitting here in front of Mr. Sexy-and-Brooding wasn't going to do it.

I stepped into the mess hall, grabbed a tray, and began piling food onto it. Once I was satisfied with a plate of spaghetti, a bowl of fruit, and a cup of water, I made my way to the tables. It was mid-evening, so a large majority of people were dressed in the standard combat utility uniform— or cammies —while a lesser portion were dressed in civilian clothes, deeming them to be non-military personnel. I was searching for any free seats when I spotted Jess and Teejay among the crowd of heads. They looked up upon my approach and Jess scooted over so that I could sit down.

"What regiment did you guys get put into?"

Teejay answered with a pout, "I got put into farming."

I nodded, "That surprisingly fits you well."

Jess snorted, "It fits him just perfectly. I'm a guard now, so if you piss me off enough Teejay, I'll pretend that you stole from the kitchen and put you in the dungeons where they keep the zeds."

His eyes went wide, "They have dungeons full of zeds?"

"She's kidding," I sighed, "you're so gullible."

After we finished eating, we walked back to our dorms together, where doors all along the hallway were opened, bustling men hanging around and hollering to each other.

"Hey guys," one of them said energetically, "the newbies are back!"

He walked up and extended a hand, to which I clapped in a less than formal handshake, "Name's Fang."