Rise

Chapter Twenty Two: Fire Starters

Matt hustled to his old squad’s section of the barracks, madly spinning the combination lock. He cursed when the device did not open on the first try and took a deep breath, slowing down. Does everyone feel like this the first time?

After carefully passing over the required numbers, the lock opened with a soft click and Matt opened the locker door. Inside rested his rifle, a box of ammo, and his bullet proof helmet. Well, that hasn’t quite been proven yet. Let’s hope it doesn’t get tested. He slipped into his combat dress quickly and silently, trying to keep his nerves at bay. All he had been was eager, and now that it came to it, he wasn’t quite sure how to feel. As many times as he could say I’m coming home, not one of them made it true. 

His gear had a new weight to it. He could feel each magazine of bullets pressing against his coat, each belt buckle biting against the cracked leather. The tightness in his chest wasn’t new to him, but he wished it could be dispelled with just a simple thought. It was like his first time walking alone to Scrap Metal. He had done it with his mother a thousand times before but when that day came where he was to make the journey on his own, he was back on day one, wide eyed and fearful of the road.

And this time the risk is much greater, Matt thought as he adjusted his tactical helmet. He was one of those fortunate enough to have one all to himself, though he doubted he’d mind sharing. It wasn’t technically his anyways. Sam had given it to him one time in the shop, saying she found it lying around in the back. 

“I’ve made a few adjustments,” she had said with a mischievous grin.

 He doubted her story however, for it had just happened to turn up as they began talking more and more about when the first deployment would be. It was more like that she had stolen it from some private store than it was just hidden in the shop. She knew that place like the back of her hand; there was no way she had never noticed a helmet just laying about. Matt never did ask about it though, just accepted the kind gesture. He could just hear his mother saying ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth’. He wondered where Sam was then, as he wasn’t sure if she’d be deployed too. Shrugging, Matt figured he’d find out eventually.

The helm was heavier than he’d expected, making him wish he’d trained with it more often. The extra weight is probably better than a bullet through my brain, he though to himself as he shifted around and found the right configuration. A thin eyepiece hung down over his right eye, a simple translucent crosshair sitting in the middle. Matt wondered what it did, for he doubted it served as only a visual aid. Sam had more up her sleeves than that. 

Hefting his pack over his shoulders, Matt made his way from the barracks, hustling towards the motor pool. Again he spotted Emma and Billy, this time in full dress, now just waiting for the orders to roll out. Emma was sitting on an ammo crate, elbows against her knees and head against her palms. Her brown eyes were staring off at nothing. 

Billy was pacing back and forth, his hands clutching his rifle. Neither noticed Matt as he approached, both trapped in their anxious habits. Only when he stood right before her did Emma look up, blinking water from her eyes. A slight smile was all he could offer, for he too had the same fears slithering about his heart. 

“Combat medic! I’ve been assigned combat medic,” she croaked in dismay. 

“A very important position. You’re the best with the med-kits, you must have known this was the plan,” Matt replied softly, trying his best to sound reassuring. He couldn’t tell if he was doing a good job. 

“Yeah, I guess. Just what am I supposed to do with these big red targets on my arms and head?” Emma cried, tears visibly forming at the edges of her eyes.