Hands of a Mentor

{Warning 18+ mature content}

 

Where…..where the fuck am I?

The instant rush of sounds and smells was suddenly overpowering to the senses; sending her mind into a frenzy of distraught thought.Stay calm and gather yourself. What’s around you? There's dirt on the floor...and....it's dark. I hear dampness in it's drops.... She inhaled sharply. Iron. Its a sickly pungent smell. Sticky and soft squishing in the dirt beneath her feet gave her rising fear alarm. Was it hers? Her own blood? She checked for sensations of pain or numbness and felt none.

No. It wasn’t of her own flesh. Thankfully. But it did absolutely nothing to quell her worries. Looking down she pressed a booted foot once more into the mess before realizing exactly what it was and it’s originating point.

A soft moan escaped her lips, as did a hitch in her breath. Please….oh god….

 

Stewart…….. Zach…..

 

Many hadn’t known the situation between the pair. And to be honest if they were found out they would have surely been separated. Neither of them wanted that. Hence the tight lip on everything. It might have been a relationship out of wartime and well needed physical contact but she had considered the man a close friend. Someone she loved in only that strange mannerism that one could love a brother in arms.

And now…he was gone. His life the pooling of crimson in front of her feet.

 

All of it accumulated to one simple and harrowing thought: Zoey had to have been captured.

 

Formations for routine patrols. It’s how in every tale these kinds of stories start. Where lengths of those disgustingly crowded and third world homes are littered with a plethora of trash and raw sewage dumped from high up windows. Each footfall took them down the streets of Baghdad, trekked upon while hefting packs that were most assuredly the same as her body weight. Water bladders were left about half empty in the afternoon swelter, and for once she was enjoying the fact that she had taken up a local demanding she wear a head scarf. It eliminated the harsh rays of the sun from her nape. Their unit had taken a green route that they sojourned. Kids occupied the streets, littered by the dozens begging for chocolate and other wares. They knew who they were by their faces, and would approach for anything they could procure. The adults would sit there squatting outside the homes, talking in huddles or playing cards, occasionally throwing dice written with numbers instead of dots. Rarely they would get a wave, or an invite for tea or a snack. Some tried for meals, which over time the soldiers obliged in, but quickly they learned that was not so kind on their stomachs, so it was put to a stop.

This day was like every other day of their tour of duty, marching away foot fall by footfall the last marked numbers of the month.

It started out of nothing. It was simply as if her body had been tugged on by rip cord and a harness. She had no control. Feet and hands flailed as they desperately worked to find purchase in the assault. Deafening noise and earsplitting rings resonated within those shells of hers followed by the blinding lighting of some incendiary device that was rupturing it’s way through their tranquility.

Rubble finally sprayed down as the female landed on her back with a wheeze and a heavy thud.

It wasn’t the first time Zoey had been involved with explosions. The last one had done a truly spectacular job of taking out her vehicle and the vehicle in front of hers. Lets not forget those explosions that gave reason for them to divert into a ravine and get ambushed. She would never forget the sound as a bullet slid past her face in a blur and plunked into the door frame to produce a high caliber hole.

Those firefight ambushes were common enough …but this….this was different. This one faded her world to black and deafened every noise until in a rush it brought her back in. This time to a very different environment.

 

Where ….the….hell….am…I?

Zoey managed to work off the binding around her eyes. A fuzzy haze still sat there, settling in heavily with a desire to take over in it’s pitch. It was fogging the brain and addling her mind. She couldn’t exactly make up from down, or left from right. Let alone gather enough intelligence to figure out why this was going on. That soft ringing still remained. Leaning forward Zoey made a movement to rub at her eyes only to be greeted by the hard clank of metal against metal, and a lurch of her shoulders.

Bound.

Now it was starting to make sense. Now Zoey could understand what was happening. She was being held captive. Though…she hadn’t expected what was about to follow.

“Hello Ryder. Zoey……”

The voice was male. Clear and very American. Taken off guard the female soldier lurched forward again only to find herself sitting back down abruptly. “Sargent Cantu….” The amount of spite and bile in those two words became enough to fill the vast room. Of course, he would be the one to go AWOL and turn against his country. “You know, it was just pure luck that they brought you here. I had no clue that I was going to get to play with you today, what a pleasant surprise.”

 

“Fuck you.” She spat.

 

“Oh.” He tisked “Now now, you need a little foreplay before you can get into the dirty stuff my precious little doll.” She could hear him walking as he slipped out of her peripheral, boot steps getting heavier as he loomed. “All in due time….don’t be so eager.” He sounded…different. The interpreter of a man had come to them under the guise and name of Anthony Cantu. A person who had taken advantage of the American dream and learned everything he would need to know to fight the good fight. The vile man secretly worked every ounce and twisted it to his profit. His found treasure in it all? The opportunity to turn on his country when he was offered more money and gold by those they were fighting against. Zoey had never forgiven him for that one, especially since she had put her life on the line more than once to make sure he didn’t get shot.

“I doubt you’d ever be able to satisfy if that’s where you think this is going. Find me a real man, and maybe we’ll talk.” She was grinning. Put him off his game, and make him think this is all an annoyance. Keep your wits, but don’t push too far. She needed the reminder. An inner monologue she latched onto for sanity.

 

“So…” He sat down. “Tell me this. Where is your unit heading. Where is Lieutenant Reed?”  The Lieutenant. That man had been at the top of everyone’s list. Including their unit. He had caused more inside trouble and knew far too much for anyone’s comfort. He had been their leader and yet unlike so many of the others he had taken up his rifle and gladly fought  by their side. A formidable man who seemed too good for where he had wound up.

“I don’t know.” Truth spoken. Not that she wanted to give him that answer.

“Bullshit. I know that you are familiar with his habits. You have to know where he’s gone.” LT had been AWOL as well. But instead of instigating attacks like this one in front of her, he was out there…..making his own mark of vigilante justice. They were sure at this point he had joined himself to a mercenary team somewhere near a Ramadi outpost.

Zoey didn’t believe the Hearsay, but it was the closest they could get in spoken word about the man.

“I cant tell you what I don’t know.”

Flipping the table over that rested between them, he picked up his chair and settled it near. A thumb slid against the inner length of her thigh so dangerously close to the apex in which he parted them to nestle himself. “Tell me what you do know. This isn’t a game. Don’t think that you’re going to get control from me. Even if you do tell me what I want to know Ryder….you’re not going home, just like your friend over there.” It’s a blatant threat that has his thumb jerking in Zachary’s direction.

At some point in this game Zoey saw herself as a black widow. Cursed to the heavens for bothering to think that she could have friends. Every time that she made an attempt…well…they died. And there was a reason that they were dying. Each of them had found out what Zoey was really doing, and they wanted to help. All of them at some point fighting together in that specialized unit.

“I’m just a lowly Civil Affairs soldier. You can’t bet on everything you hear, love.” The words oozed past her lips smeared in poisonous honey and dripped with just a hint of affection. But it was the lie they had all been trained on. Told to spout in these situations. Cantu knew it all too well. After all the man had taken her under his wing when she’d first joined, and after so many years in her position he had been the one who instigated the battle to keep her on orders with his unit. She had admired his tenacity and decisiveness after that. Even if he hadn’t been privy to everything she had.

Another hand slid up the side of her ribs to curl around the ample weight he’d mentioned in jest one day desiring his favor that lay so beautifully there. “Emily…remember her death? Remember how she went? You could be like her…..” Zoey gritted teeth at his touch, and the memory. Emily was one of those girls who had always been friendly, loving and just…radiant in her happiness. No matter where she went she had something that glowed about her.  She had taken to being a combat medic in her first contract and when she re-upped, well she wanted to do something more. Which had landed her with them. She learned the very hard way that caring for people is what became a weakness, and when Emily had taken in Cantu much like Zoey had - right before he went AWOL-she’d been found three weeks later in a burned down crack house outside their base.

Cantu knew Zoey far more than the woman would have liked to admitted. He’d met her up during patrol shifts and had lunch with her, or gave her a ring when something happened to an officer and it was reported on the news in their town. He had cared so much, in fact far too much to just be sitting like this now in front of her. It scared her how much she’d misjudged him. Instead of the person he was he had been here he was acting to her every ounce hard, cold, and calculated.

“Anthony, we were kids when this all started. But we were the only ones who could do it….don’t you see that? How else could we have accomplished what we did when we did?” She was asking, eager to know. Gold threaded hues slid up, daring to meet him face to face.

“That’s the bullshit of it all isn’t it!” He roared. His face turning red. “Fucking 18 ,19, 20 years old and shoved into this abomination of a shit hole! Forced to get mind fucked into believing we were doing something useful! Fucking brainwashed into oblivion, and then remade into their idea of the perfect soldier. Make it or break it, huh?!” He slid in far closer now, hot panted breaths spreading across her neck as he spoke, swirling across that tattooed spans to reach her ear.

She hated it. Her face scrunched up in disgust. She’d always been disgusted by people who weren’t her lovers breathing on her, and he knew it. “Then kill me, because the God’s honest truth is I don’t know where Reed went, and I don’t know what he’s up to. The last time I saw him was when we were putting Scott into the ground. Now, before you say shit, you were there too fucker. Your guess is as good as mine.”  

 

Scott….

Have you ever read anything having to do with Deadpool? Yeah. I’m sure you have. Nearly everyone has that loves comics. Scottie was pretty much the epitome of Wilson Wade. And he was smart as fuck. Scott had been one of those geniuses that hid behind a façade of raunchy jokes, trouble-making, and causing creative explosions. He adored explosions. Actually, he liked anything to do with chemicals and was amazing at creating compounds. Jerk should have been a chemist. Not a soldier. ‘Needed to find a way to pay for college.’ He had once explained to Zoey. ‘Tuition will eat you alive if you don’t do something…and so I thought…shiiiiit. What better way to pay than to blow some fuckers up, kick some ass, take some names, and get free money?’  Free money. He’d always thought of it that way. The man had absolutely no care in the world for possessions or where he lived. All he cared about was a little bit of food, and a couch to sleep on. Zoey had always made sure he had a place to stay, since he was much a person who needed a keeper. Downside to their connection? He’d decided one day to join up with their team, put his skills to use, and well….figuring out the rest isn’t too hard.

 

Her face lurched to the left. A hard crack of skin to skin contact snapping her back to the reality before her. “Eyes front and center, little pet. We’re not finished here. No checking out.” Zoey grunted at the slap, but gave him no further satisfaction, other than the spitting of blood to the floor. “Alright then, Cantu…what else is there?” He had her attention once more, that deadpan stare greeting him. Interview tactics had been taught to them all. Giving up pertinent information was never acceptable, and to be honest many of them only had bits. Without the whole team together, none of them would make sense. They had their directives, and that’s all they needed.

“Now we get your information. I’ve got all I need to piece it together….but yours….is what we are missing….”

 

No. “No, fuck you. You, the asshole who ran out on us. Who traded one country for another. Who did everything and anything he could to make sure we were taken care of and was a great leader for us all; and this shit is how you fucking repay us? Are you kidding me? I’ve done everything for you! I’ve been there for you when no one else has, and I’ve always make sure that you knew I was someone you could rely on. I was there when advice was needed. I fed you when you were broke, and I gave you a fucking place to stay when Julia decided to fuck some Jodie. Fuck you! Traitor!” She was seething and she could no longer keep her calm. Her temper had taken over. The harder she yelled at him the more those binds bit into soft flesh. The tie down points on the floor protested, and the chair shrieked against the cement as she pushed hard. He was despicable.

“Well then. Guess I’ll just find out your cipher the hard way…” He grinned. Cantu had always been an immaculate hacker and no matter what happened he could find information on anything, anywhere. Even when one thought that it wouldn’t have dared to be computerized. He knew how to extract it. Even if it took months. “Looks like you’re of no more use to me then. A shame, really. I had hoped that with enough convincing I might have been able to convince you to join our side. Don’t  you see? The country is falling apart. And in a few days time…no matter what happens….the civil riots will begin again. Worse than ‘The Rage’, worse than those who claim their oppression by law enforcement and the government. Our time will come.” He was stroking her hair as each sentence seeped forth, a disgusting ooze of words. “Goodbye, little love.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, one last prize he could claim on the situation.

Zoey felt violated.

Standing he let out a long and hard sigh. “Tsk. Ach. Such a shame.” His hands reached down, and in a flash of pure white and a roar causing her ears to ring, Zoey felt her entire body lurch once more to the side. But this…this was more than a slap to the face…she felt the warmth sliding from her head as she slid to the floor, the chair now gone from beneath her. Her thoughts started to blend into a strange conglomerate of noise, and feedback. The world was getting hazy…and red spilled around her in a huge pool. Her viewpoint now of a cement slab. “Goodniiiggghhhttt…” the singsong voice resonated. Last words for a soldier…she supposed……

 

 

“…..Dump the body. I don’t give a fuck where…..”

 

 

 

 

GAAAAAAASSSSPPPPP!

The sudden inhale of air had Zoey sitting upright as she reached out hoping to latch onto…something. Anything. Her head shrieking in protest at the sudden onslaught of vertigo that claimed her in waves. Her stomach rolled and she leaned over the side of her bed to vomit. But, nothing came out. Instead the moaning wail of a sound followed by a dry heave.

“She’s up!” A nurse proclaimed as she passed by the room, only to be suddenly halted by the sight. “Room 14! Can I get a doctor, please!?” Oh, oh! That noise. That ungodly noise….

“Shhhh….” Was all that Zoey could muster. The lights…oh god, please…turn them off…please. Was she speaking? Or talking in her head? She couldn’t really figure out. And why was she here? Where was here anyways? What happened? So many qustions….so much to find out…

“Ma’am….I’m a nurse. Do you know who you are?”

I’m Elizabeth Ryder…call me Zoey though….

“Ma’am?”

I just told you…I’m fucking Corporal Ryder. It took a moment for Zoey to understand that she wasn’t actually speaking. Mostly because she felt like she was screaming inside her head. But also because the face of concern that was on the nurses had told her that their question hadn’t been answered.

“Y….yeah…” She said, breathlessly. “I’m c…corporal…..Ryder.” No, that wasn’t right. Why was it so hard to get out a sentence?

The woman’s eyes were lighting up though. “Very good. And do you know why you’re here?”

Zoey didn’t want to shake her head. Instead she spoke again carefully. “N…no.” A look of sadness crossed the red head’s face. “Well, Corporal, you’re very lucky. You disappeared during a patrol. No one could find you. When we did...we were scared you were already gone. You’ve been shot. But...you made it. You’re alive. Four months later…but you’re alive!” She seemed like she wanted to dance.

And then a blur of muscle slid into her field of view, thick cords wrapping her up tight.

“Zoey.” The same voice that haunted her dream. Tormented her every ounce of the way through it. “Oh thank god you’re awake!” His forlorn voice and near tremble in his shoulders made her want to shove him away.

None of this felt right. It was empty, a void. A reality created in false memory. As if  she wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Don’t.” She stated in a soft tone, pushing at the man gently. He started, if only for a second.

“I FUCKING SAID DON’T!” And again she pushed against him. Her chest swelling with an uncontrollable urge as she began to flail against him.

“LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!” Warm streams found themselves falling in fattening drops. She was panicking. Feeling that overwhelming desire to run as fast and as far as she could from all of this.

All Zoey wanted to do was to go back to sleep, back to her dreams. Back to the moments where they hadn’t forgotten about her. She couldn’t feel that simple connection the man in front of her was trying to convey. No, after all the deaths accruing, and her fellow comrades gone, Scotty, Emily, Reed…… She didn’t want to feel. Not like this.

Lets not forget the ones who had happily abandoned her along the way….they too were seen as her casualties of this life. This was so much more than just sitting in a war time. It was her entire life. Everyone left her in one way or another. 

She wanted more than anything - while she swallowed huge gulps of air and began to let out a sob – to simply be dead inside. 

It would have been far easier than this.

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