Of Hard Hats and Baseball Bats chapter 7

Chapter 7: Not what you expected


The next evening, Dwight sat in his pyjamas at his table when a knock on the door preceded Gordon into the room.

"S- Dwight, time for lights-out... tomorrow's probably a ceasefire day, but we have to maintain routine – those sissy-boys have no discipline!!  We have to set an example!"  Dwight knew he meant only himself to be an example, but nevertheless he nodded good-naturedly.

"Y'all are doin' a fine job settin' th'example here, Gordon... as your superior an' your colleague, y'all make me proud t'be military..."  It had the effect he had intended: the soldier puffed up, saluting with utmost respect before heading back outside.  Dwight moved to his bed – but he didn't lie down, looking tensely at the sliver of light coming from the hallway.  Minutes passed in silence – and then, the light died out, signaling that Gordon, too, had turned in for the night.  Pyro had mentioned that the soldier was always last to go to sleep and first to wake up, and it had advised Dwight to wait for a few minutes before heading over to its room – Dwight wisely followed that advice, waiting a quarter of an hour before walking to his door, opening it and moving as silently as possible through the deserted hall.  It was much more eerie than it was when the others were awake: the moon shone through the toilet window and the beams fell through the opened bathroom door into the hallway, and the sounds of snores and even breathing – interspersed with the occasional grunt or moan – added a soft background noise.  He pushed against the door to Pyro's room, finding it open – and inside, he found the masked figure maskless and clad in pyjamas much like his own, a simple cotton T-shirt and shorts.  But that was not what made his eyes widen and his mouth fall open.  Before him stood a woman, exotic-looking and with an air of sadness about her.

"Dwight, close the door...", she said softly, and he complied, still shell-shocked.  "I wouldn't risk anyone seeing me like this.  All the others think I'm just a nameless faceless man with a sordid past and a violent attitude.  They might even think I'm crazy, heh..."

"W-whah...", Dwight stammered, unable to voice his thoughts – unable to get his thoughts ordered coherently – and she chuckled.  However, her voice was edged as she spoke up next.

"As far as they're concerned, I'm a man – they all think women are only good to have children and mind the household.  Even Lyndon doesn't know, and I've known him for years.  But you... you're... different.  You don't think like they do.  You don't even fight like they do.  You have honour, and you have dignity.  I saw the BLU spy kill you yesterday – you made a good decision there, one that no one else of our group would've made." Her voice was deep for a woman, and it was then that he noticed peculiarities about her, like the fact she had no eyebrows, or the fact her cheeks had scars from cuts.  He replied with a smile.

"Aw shucks, thanks...  's Long as y'all feel yeh kin show me yer real self, mind if I ask yer name again?"

"Teresa.  Teresa Hernandez."  Her name caused him to grin again, his wits slowly returning after the shock.

"Mexican?"

"True.  You're observant, Dwight.  You're Texan, right?"

"Right as rain...  Uh...  Ah take it y'all don't want me ta call yeh 'Teresa' when th'others are 'round?", he asked tentatively, and when she nodded, he did as well.  "I figured 's much.  Mind if ah call y'all 'Reese' then?"

"Reese?  ...That would work... it's a man's name, too...  Okay, call me 'Reese'...", she said, grinning.

"So, uh, Reese, y'all wanted me ta come here jus' ta... talk, huh?"

"Yes.  ...You're kind.  You care for the people you work with – maybe that's because you never came here to fight like all the others have..."

"I think most of them's crazy for doin' what they do, pardner...  But are y'all a mercenary as well, or didya end up here by chance like me?"  He noticed the sudden nervous movement she made, hiding her face briefly before answering him, her whole demeanour neutral.

"There was no chance in my ending up here...  Promise not to tell?", she asked, and when he nodded, she showed him a picture of herself, three droplets tattooed beside her eye on her upper cheek.

"Phew...", Dwight said, his eyes growing large.  He recognised the tattoo – his father had told him to run when he met a man or woman with a droplet by his or her eye, saying it meant the person had committed murder.  "What gang'd you work for?"

"Siete Viejo.  I was trained as an assassin – no one ever suspects the girl...  But I've been marked for assassination myself.  I turned traitor.  I didn't turn to the cops.  I didn't die, I didn't go to another gang... I got a job, and a life, and a purpose.  A nice working girl doesn't have those tattoos, so I had them removed."

"Man, I heard yeh can't quit somethin' like them gangs.", Dwight said, and Teresa laughed a mirthless laugh before continuing.

"You can't – not alive, at least.  My boss, Felipe, did not like losing someone he spent so long training... he sniffed me out, he sent some men to my job and he killed five men there to send me a message.  Then, his men went to my house and placed pictures there of my dead mother, and father, and my two little sisters...  That's when I turned to this job.  I needed anything, as long as it got me far away from Felipe's reach."

"Yeah, well, I doubt even the comp'ny knows where this here desert is...", Dwight said, shaking his head, causing Teresa to chuckle.

"Felipe would die of thirst before he got anywhere near this base – so would his men.  They'd be food for the vultures.  The train drove for hours through this desert – and the company owns the rails, so nothing comes here that way.  A car would get stuck in the sands around here.  This is the perfect hideout – no way in..."

"Y'all gonna hide here for the rest of yer life, Reese?!", Dwight asked in utter shock, which was amplified by the pyro's shrug.  "Don't yeh wanna make somethin' of the days that remain to yeh?"  That, at least, elicited a sigh from her.

"...I used to want to get my own house, and a little girl of my own... but not anymore.  Been a long time since I dreamt those dreams... now I just dream of surviving another day."  Dwight meant to speak up when a sound from the hallway startled the both of them – Teresa got up from the side of her bed, where the two of them had been sitting, and motioned for Dwight not to make a sound.  As the hallway remained quiet for a few minutes, she motioned for him to get up and move to the door.  "...You should go back to your room.  I don't want anyone else to know.  ...Thank you, amigo..."  Her voice was barely a whisper, and Dwight nodded wordlessly, patting her shoulder in the darkness before slipping back out into the hallway through the slightly opened door – even the soft 'click' as she closed it behind him sounded like a gunshot in the night suddenly, and Dwight moved back to his room when beside him, a door opened and Harvey peered outside, his eyes reddish from lack of sleep and his voice gritty from lack of drinking.

"Dwight, the hell ya doin' outta bed at this hour?", he said softly, and Dwight sighed.

"Nature's call, pardner... now we both oughta be in bed now, so g'night to y'all..."  He moved back to his own room slowly, simulating drowsiness, but as his head hit the pillow, the fatigue and waves of sleep that washed over him were real enough.  He fell into an uneasy sleep, however, dreaming of a beautiful Mexican woman that was hunted... and that ran to him for protection he couldn't give...


Meanwhile, Harvey stood peering at the door to the engineer's room in confusion.  He knew the engineer had been lying, obviously – the toilets were between his room and the engineer's, and he would've heard his colleague flush if he had gone – but what piqued his curiosity more was the need for that lie.  'What was he doin' out in tha hallways this late at night?  I mean, I got an excuse – Bonk! addiction's messin' with my sleep – but what's his excuse?"  He looked down the hallway, unsure which door he'd heard close – the sound had startled him enough to abandon his game – and he recounted in his head whose rooms lay closest to the dining room and living room at the far end of the hallway, where he thought the sound was most likely to come from.  "There's Pyro's room – but no way Dell went there in tha middle of tha night, fuckin' mumblin' freak's scary 'nough by day... I don't even know how those two can be all buddy-buddy durin' tha day...  Gordon's pretty uptight 'bout bein' woken up at night...  There's Lyndon... they're close, too... aw fuck, 'd he go ta Lyndon?!  Fuckin' hell, those two could be t'getha, they-"  Just as he was musing about the possibility Lyndon and Dwight were involved, however, a door on the other end of the hallway opened up and a figure crept in, looking around nervously before moving down the hallway.  As the figure passed the kitchen, a bit of light from the moon fell on it – and Harvey had to stop himself from gasping.  It was one of the BLU team, and this person moved for the door to the pyro's room, opening it swiftly and moving inside quietly, closing the door just as swiftly and soundlessly.  As the door was shut, the scout let go of the breath he'd been holding subconsciously, his heart racing.  He closed his own door, locked it and switched off his laptop, ignoring the fact that his game was still running.  As he lay in his bed, he suddenly realised he could have woken up the engineer – Dwight hadn't been inside his room long, so he'd still be somewhat awake – but he didn't dare chance going back out now, not with someone of the other team loose in the building... not with what had happened to the previous scout...