Meet the Mailman

Meet the Mailman (Part 1)

Somedays you like to look around the empty road of the desert wasteland from your box with wheels and ask yourself the same question your parents asked you when you got an F on that history midterm - "What the hell went wrong?"

You knew the answer to that, of course. You graduated your STEM high school in the top 30%, decided to go for a bachelors in something really smart but you wanted to go somewhere with lower tuition; big impressive degree but less paying on your end so a true win-win.

And then you realized that the University of Teufort had professors that literally didn't care because they weren't even certified. You had to drop in your second semester, and going back home when you said, 'I got this handled' wasn't an option. Plus, money to travel.

It didn't take too much to get this job. You just saw the Mayor one day and asked for a job, resume prepared and everything. And boom - he just gave it to you. Didn't care that you didn't have a license that was certified to be used in the state, had no lessons in how the heck to do this job, and he didn't even look at your resume. That last one kinda stung too.

So here you are presently, riding down the roads of Teufort, New Mexico, going to deliver some mail. That's right - you're the Mailman. That's how it's been ever since then.

It's not too bad a job either. Everyone is absolutely nuts and the water is disgusting, so one sip and spit of that and you knew why. (Bottled water for you for now on.) The boss practically let you choose your hours and when you worked, you got paid. One or two days you just took off for mental health days and nothing was said about it - you just went in the next day and worked.

Mind you, you needed the money and this job was only 20 dollars an hour, so you did your work. Since the population wasn't so big either you could cover it in about 2 hours, and that included the sorting and placing. So just to get a little more than 40 dollars, you liked to just drive around...and by some miracle, that was counted as "work." You just had to make the range of hours look reasonable and check-in and out each day.

Things could be worse...so far, this wasn't all that bad, actually.
So why is it that you have to ask, "What the hell went wrong?"

Try delivering mail to RED Base everyday-

You parked your small mail truck a good 0.3 miles away and looked in the distance at the mess of a base. This was the true test of your faith. Everyday - everyday, without fail - you had miraculously escaped all in one piece despite the insane encounters. Sundays were the blessed days. It's been a month now, and you always saved this delivery for last.

You swallowed. What would it be this time? Bullets? Knives? Missiles? Bombs? You never knew, and that's what made it all the worse. You barely escaped the first time, but learned to prepare.

Your messenger bag was slung over your shoulder and secured at your side. You slipped the bullet proof vest you got last month over your uniform and even brought your handy-dandy letter opener for defense. Truly, you are the image of a knight ready to charge.

Deep breaths...You'll be over and out soon enough.

Your legs took off - one after the other. Just had to get to the mailbox-

At this point, you knew where you needed to zig and where you needed to zag to avoid all of the explosive and volatile traps. You were getting so close now..!

There! You made it and not a single scratch! You pant, taking a moment to catch your breath after that Olympic quality sprint. The movies were accurate about that: nothing will get your legs moving like some good fear, especially fear of getting butchered up by heaven-knows-what.

That was that though; you put the mail in the box and sighed. All in a day's work! Now to go home lounge on the couch doing nothing super productive for 10 or so hours and then sleeping and repeating.

After you did the same 0.3 mile sprint. You got yourself prepared: just think of the prize waiting for you at home...the true relaxation and sloth...

Your legs were good to go in 3...2...1..-

"BLU!!!"

The cry of a slurred and heavy Scottish voice stopped you- Why? Dunno. Must be reflex of fear-
You had to crank your brain to focus but before you could do too much the ground from under you flew up and sent you with it. You screamed, as anyone who just had a bomb thrown at their feet would do. You couldn't feel the pain in your ankles yet since the panic of being a good 30 feet in the air was not resting so good with your panicking mind.

You were crashing down- Oh shit, you might die-
You squeezed your eyes tight, tucked your head in and hugged your body, curling up as you impacted the ground on your side and then rolled.

...
Oh good, you actually lived...but god damn, this is gonna be one hell of a bruise, if not a broken something or another. You dared to open your eyes after another five seconds. You went pretty damn far from that blast...
But knowing the maniacs around there, passingly at least, that cyclops or someone else would be coming after you soon enough to ensure you're dead, so no time to sit and wail vainly about your sides.

You got up, but could feel the sharp burn where you hit the sandy ground and hissed out a bit. Straightening your bag, you continued your way to the small truck...so very, very close.

Victory was at your fingertips...! You could almost feel that glorious moment your sore body would have sinking into the sweet cushioning of your residence...

But there was another sudden ping- right in your back. You fell over and groaned, your body just laying on the ground limp...

It must have been a bullet of some sort that had enough force to knock you down. Good thing you got this vest.

But the best thing to do now was lay completely still....just look like you fell victim to the shot and were resting soundly on your dessert grave...

You weren't too sure how many people stayed in that place, but you knew a few things: there was a drunk guy, a pyromaniac, and a guy who hid up somewhere and shot like a sharpshooter. You only got hit one other time, but the best thing to do in this case was to stay there for a good five minutes, make sure he was gone, and book it.

So now it was just time to lay around and reflect.

Nothing too deep. You didn't need that right now. Maybe just something you could get from the General Store on your way back...Ice cream? You always could use more of that. Cookie dough? Oh yeah...after all, you deserved a little treat after a rough day like this.

Blown up, shot at, and worst of all that one chihuahua bit pretty harsh on your shoes...and they were new too.

Oh yeah, and the bottled water. You had to get that. Maybe some lemonade? Lots of frozen pizza and microwaveable stuff...it was cheap enough.

It's not that the cost of living was so expensive so much as you needed to get on your own two feet. You needed to be an individual and get your life together...learn how to "adult" and whatever. Ever since you got here, you could feel it falling apart slowly...especially like these days, where delivering mail was a battle.

Okay, that was enough reflection-
Time flew by when you did that sometimes: the sun had even started setting. It wasn't anything too long, but it had at least been 8 minutes.

"Alrighty..." You muttered, safely hobbling back to your ride. "Let's get the hell away from this place..."

You took off your bag and vest and threw it on the passenger seat, but instead of the normal flop on the seat there was a thump. And in this case, these are two very, very different sounds. One was normal, you heard it all the time. The other...it was the sound of your bag and vest hitting someone's lap...You did a double take.
It was silent still for a very eerie moment...but it ended abruptly as a knife was held to your throat and a man wearing a ski mask and very expensive looking suit appeared before your eyes with a rather prideful smirk.

"Bonjour.." He said with a smooth French accent. "You will be coming with me now, Mailman."