A Gunpowder Rhapsody /// Chapter 2

My ass kept thinking of the Gunpowder Plot, while reading this

Larry: Aight… I have like, a buncha questions. Why’d that thing target us? We ain’t the enemy army. We’re a buncha uneducated losers in a vault in the middle of nowhere.
He gestured towards the corpse of the Bobcat-JB7.

Quinn checked inside of the robot.
Quinn: …I, uh, think it’s faulty. I’m no military engineer, but the wires in there are definitely wrong. Might’ve just forgetten the difference between good guy and bad guy.

Eric: Well, we’ve gotta deal with that tra-

Everybody: We know.

Johnny: So, we should probably send like, a few people to go and like, take it far away.

…

Quinn: Yeah, that sounds good. Uhh… there’s not really a person in charge here… can I make myself in charge?

Eric: Nah, I want to be in charg-

Johnny: No, Johnny. It’s not happening.

Eric: What did I ever do to you guys?

Johnny: You’re annoying.

Quinn: *sigh* Phil, get over here.

Phil was an oddball within the group. He was one of the soldiers fighting the ongoing war. He saw things that was hard for someone from any other time to even physically imagine. But then he saw an oppurtunity to escape, and became a deserter. He found the bunker, and he was let in. He never really talked much. He mostly sat on his bed, thinking to himself.

Phil: Wha- uh, what?

Phil’s voice was muffled.

Quinn: Oh, for the love of God, are you seriously wearing that gas mask again?!

Phil had brought a gas mask with him when he escaped the military. He wore it from time to time, and nobody knew why. Most of the others assumed he was crazy. They were probably right.

Phil: What’s wrong with it?

Johnny: Nothing, just… we were all about to die and you’re just sitting in your room staring at your wall while wearing that. You okay or something?

Phil: What? Yeah, i’m okay.

Quinn: Okay, Phil, here’s this tracker. You’ve dealt with this kind of stuff before, so you go and hide it a few miles away from here so we don’t get bombed. And uh, we need a few others so he doesn’t die in a hole and it takes us a month to find out what happened, like LAST TIME. *mutter* James you idiot…

Anyways, uh… any volunteers?

Larry’s hand reluctantly went up. He didn’t really want to risk his life outside of the bunker, but then again, if he didn’t come, everyone inside the bunker would have died too. Plus, there was no way Phil was surviving on his own. Larry had seen the lengths the militaries had gone to when it came to capturing enemies, prisoners of war, and deserters. Some were stripped of all their gear and crucified on out-of-service war machines. Others were strapped to the bombs that were dropped from planes and forced to explode with the bomb. But most were sent to the Garrote. Not much is known about the Garrote. Other than the fact that it’s a prison named after a brutal execution and it is quite literally Hell on Earth. Those who have lived to tell the tale of what goes on there is clearly a hallucination, because nobody lives to tell the tale of what goes on there. It was up to Larry and whoever else also volunteered for this to make sure Phil didn’t get captured by his former allies, because nobody would want to sentence someone to that kind of fate.

Quinn: Okayy… Larry, you’re goin’ with him.

Larry: Alrighty, then.

Ellie: Uh, can I come?

Quinn: Uh, sure.

Larry: She’s comin’ too?

Ellie: Uh, yeah. I want to come. It’s something to do.

Phil: Uh, okay.

Johnny: And for the love of God, take off that gas mask. It’s only gonna obscure your vision.

Ellie: Let him have it! It’s not like it’s going to kill us.

Johnny: Welp, you do you.

Quinn: Uh, okay, i’ll send you three unfortunate souls off in the morning.

…

Inevitably, morning came. Larry had packed his bags, and after further reviewing, had noted that Ellie was right when she said the bags were too small. They were about twice the size of your head, and barely enough room to hold water, a gun, some food, and medical stuff. But there was no complaining. Not in this world. Because complaining just gets you killed.

Phil: Yeah, uh, Larry? El? Thanks for coming with me.

Eric: Yeah, he can’t really defend himself, he’s gonna ne-

Phil: ERIC IF YOU HAVE ANY WORKING CELLS LEFT IN YOUR BRAIN THEN I HOPE YOU CAN USE THEM TO SHUT UP! AND IF YOU CAN’T SHUT UP THEN YOU MIGHT AS WELL KILL YOURSELF BEFORE I DO THAT FOR YOU, BECAUSE YOU CONTRIBUTE NOTHING TO OUR SURVIVAL! YOU ARE THE MOST WORTHLESS A LIVING ORGANISM CAN POSSIBLY BE!

Ellie: Yeah, you tell him, Phil!

Eric: Jesus… what’s wrong with you?

Eric walked away sadly.

Larry: Pfft… why’s he overreacting like that? He looks so sad.

Quinn: No idea. But, I guess it’s time to go.

Ellie: Yep! Larry, you ready?

Larry: I’ve been ready for like, 20 minutes.

Quinn whispered into Larry’s ear.

Quinn: Dude, I think she likes you. She’s like, trying way too hard to attach herself to you somehow.

Larry: What? That’s absurd. I think she just wants to help Phil, she’s a good person. Besides, nobody would wanna love me.

Quinn: I dunno, man.

Ellie: We live in a bunker the size of a gas station, what secrets could you two possibly have that we can’t know?

Larry: What the hell’s a gas station?

Ellie: Haha, I have no idea. Let’s go.

The door was opened, and soon after, it was shut. Phil held the tracker from the dead Bobcat. The grass was wet from the melting snow, and the wind was slowly blowing on the three. Gunshots could be heard in the distance, never seeming to stop.

Phil: Welp, here goes nothing.

Ellie: So, where do we drop the tracker off?

Larry: Prolly like, a few miles from here. Maybe the mountains.

Phil: Uh, okay.

Larry: Alright, let’s go. I’m already getting cold.

And so, the three started their journey. But would they make it back?