Chapter Text
It was just one more job. The last job. The silence of the place was interrupted by the echo of her steps. No one was nearby, nor was it surprising. Even Tanks like her would think twice about following that route. But she wasn’t just any Tank, and the pay was good, too good to pass up. Just one more.
Buildings, businesses, sidewalks and tracks completely deteriorated by time and the damage that the explosion inflicted on them remained behind her as soon as she turned the next corner. Carrie stopped, the pistons in her suit releasing some air as she stopped moving. Staring at the inhospitable wasteland, she sighed. She had been walking for two days, one of them in the destroyed city, and now she had reached its limit, having in front of her the overwhelming image of the Crater known as Ground Zero.
Signs stood delimiting the damn place, warnings could be read on them. "NO MACHINES. ZONE WITHOUT ENERGY. NO SIGNAL ZONE.” Nor was it like warnings were needed. For years, no one dared to enter Ground Zero, unless you know how to cross it, just being in the vicinity of the city was suicide. A warm and green mist emanated from the area, indicating the toxicity of the air, spreading throughout the entire city, becoming completely dense once the fence was past, making life of any kind impossible… or so he would have liked to think.
She walked over to the posters, looking at the one who really mattered today. A huge plank, which could well be the wall of some construction, with a twisted image painted on it. Carrie swallowed hard. Behind that gas curtain, there was life, if it could be called life to those... things. Mutants, that was the correct word for those beings. A chill ran down her spine as the memory of her last encounter with one of them passed before her eyes. Even with the protection of her suit and the augments that came with the contracts, facing the mutants had left her fair share of scars, and if she could, this time she would prefer not to take a farewell memory. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Just one more.
It was not the first time that she had stopped in front of those posters. Every time Carrie passed by, she stopped to plan her movements well. One doesn’t go through hell so many times being impulsive. She always had a plan. She had already passed through this place conserving herself in one piece. This time it would be no different. And most importantly, this time would be the last.
She walked to her usual place, a destroyed building, which in its good days appeared to be a donut shop, of which only the first and second floors remained standing. The sound of the bell on entering always seemed the most pleasant to hear. In a place where everything is in complete silence, a little sound was appreciated. Smiling, she remembered the first time she had opened that door, how her heart almost stopped at the sudden sound. And now she found the curious clink of the most welcoming. It was incredible how the place had remained almost intact despite being so close to the crater area, all the furniture was in almost perfect condition, except for the glass and porcelain things, which were undone, undoubtedly by effect of the explosion.
A thick layer of dust covered everything, becoming more evident when she started up the stairs. The air released from the pistons at each step kicked up a small cloud of dust, obscuring the vision on the narrow staircase, but it didn't matter. Carrie had walked those stairs many times in the past ten years. Even with the missing steps, she could climb it with her eyes closed. The second floor of the store was as it had been left. Empty except for a couple of tables and the couch in the corner. At one of the tables was her suit repair kit, always doing a full check of the suit's condition before crossing. It was impossible to take the tools to Ground Zero, too much weight, if you wanted to make the trip fast, the ideal was to travel light. At the other table, a small collection of objects adorned it. Little toys, commemorative magnets, curious keychains. Wonderful trinkets, that's how she saw them. Each of them indicated a round trip. A mission accomplished. A victory. One more day surviving.
"Open compartment L1." The compartment in her right leg opened, releasing a small cloth bag.
One by one, she began to keep each memory of her travels, taking them delicately, wrapping the most fragile with a little cloth, appreciating the detail of each one, reliving each of her trips since she began this work. Sighing, she looked at the table, now empty. There were marks of where each of the objects had been, small dust-free spaces across the surface. She smiled slightly. There were over a hundred marks. Nothing bad. Although the job she had wasn’t one of the best, she had done it for a considerable number of years. Returning so many times from that corrupt Zone was not a small achievement, knowing that she was good at what she did made her feel a little proud. Only a little, after all, the success of the mission wasn’t only her thing, she had help. The tanks that boasted of their success disappeared on their next trip, most likely because their ego and confidence blinded their judgment, and probably they ignored their M. A. She wasn't going to let that happen to her. Just one more.
A sound in her ear alerted her senses, but she immediately relaxed. Laughing a little, she gently placed the bag on the side of the couch and let herself dropped into it, raising a small cloud of dust. A stab of pain in the lower part of her back made her regret doing it. Hissing, she settled herself so that she didn't lean on it. I'm not what I used to be, huh?
"Answer." The sound stopped and after a few moments a voice was heard.
"Tank 0370-CS, status report." She muffled a laugh, knowing that it was part of the protocol and that she should answer as faster as possible. Clearing her throat, she replied.
“Tank 0370-CS, reporting. I'm at the Beta point, entering Ground Zero. All in order."
"Confirming." A high-pitched sound rang out inside the suit for a few seconds and it stopped. Carrie sighed and commented.
"It's good to hear you May." On the other side of the communicator there was a laugh. May wasn’t her name. Officially, those who spoke behind the communicator were called M.A. or Monitoring Assistants. But Carrie had known this M.A. since her first assignment and the trust between them was… comforting. And it was one of the few reasons she found to slip back into the suit. Hearing her voice was a balm for the silence that reigned in the missions, even if only two times a day, each of those moments were highly appreciated by her.
“What’s up, Carrie? Let me check your health status and the status of the augments. Get in position."
"Ugggh. Couldn't we skip that part and move on to planning-? ”
“Carrie. Get in position." The tone of voice suggested that it was not a good idea to continue forcing her luck. May was sweet and funny, but she had no patience, especially for health checkups, since she knew that when Carrie sought to evade them, there were even more reasons to do them. It wasn't like she could do something to her. But she was not going to allow herself to anger her only company on the trip. Concealing a whimper with a hoarse voice, she stood up and spread her arms wide.
"Ready whenever you want."
Again the suit made a sound but with another tone and intensity. Carrie felt the suit tighten on her, compressing her to analyze every aspect of her physical condition. Each wound, each scar, each welded and healing bone, nothing escaped the analysis. Old wounds, nothing at ease with the pressure exerted on them began to puncture her skin, while the healed broken bones also played their part in the claim of her body against the checkup. "Almost done." she heard in her ear. I really hope so. Her lower back was on fire, the new wound that accompanied the others was not healed enough to be receiving so much pressure. Please don't tore the stitches. And it's over. The tension of the suit was released and everything stopped hurting, except of course, the wound on her back.
Stretching to finish releasing the tension in her body, Carrie listened as May began to review the data the suit had just sent, small murmurs of displeasure escaping her every few keystrokes. Oh, this is going to be good. She took the cloth bag from over the couch and placed it behind it. Then she walked over to the tool table, and connected the suit to the testing machine. In seconds, the information was displayed on the screen. The suit model she was wearing was rare, only other Tanks that worked for the company that hired her wore them. And apparently only Tanks with more than eight years of service had access to them. Curious.
That would explain why she had never seen this model and why it felt a bit strange to walk with it. It was certainly more flexible than other suits, but it also felt… different. But she couldn't point out what was weird, so she simply evaded that thought and continued. Everything seemed normal and fit. All these years in the green mist are affecting you, Carrie.
She could still hear May typing on the other side. She knew that she shouldn’t speak until she spoke to her, saying that she was distracting her. Taking a deep breath, she started to walk towards the exit of the place. By the time she heard the doorbell again, the typing had stopped and a sigh was heard from the other side.
“Everything seems to be in order, however there are some readings that are a bit strange. It says here that the extraction wound is not yet healed. Is that right?" Ha, I’ve see it coming.
"It may not be completely healed, but it's not like that matters inside the suit, it's not going to get infected."
"True, but please be careful. There are other data that are off, but within normal parameters.”
"It must be because of the suit, it is a rare model." She had reached the entrance to the crater. Anxiety and expectation began to do their part, activating the adrenaline that began to run through her veins.
“I understand that this will be your last shipment. Congratulations. More than a hundred successful trips to Ground Zero will be hard to beat.” While May had said it with flattering intent, there was a bitter, sad tone in her voice. This only accelerated her pulse a little more. Ten years listening to that woman behind the comms. Ten years she was accompanying her and seeing for her health. She knew that it was all part of the job, but there were always certain comments that only asked herself if maybe...
"You should deploy your gun, Carrie. Is not safe." Those words brought her back to reality. Is not safe.
"Deploy W1." A few clicks were heard from behind her. Taking the released rifle, she approached the edge of the Ground. The first step was always the most difficult. You couldn’t go back through this same place, the exit on this side was one day away, and the one on the other side was three days away. Carrie took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She was almost never successful at it.
"Carrie." May's voice sounded in her ear, closer than ever. “It is just one more job. The last job. Please be careful." Oh
“You say it as if we weren't going to talk at night, May. Or are you already missing my sweet voice?” Great Carrie, you are a genius. At that point, jumping into Ground Zero without a suit sounded very tempting. You’ve ruined it. A small laugh was heard in her ear. Oh
"Maybe that's it. Or maybe I want to keep my record of bringing entire Tanks back.” Carrie laughed too, the tension releasing a little. May had answered her joke, like many times before, but… what if maybe?
"May, can you promise me something?" the grip on her weapon tightened. May's voice came from the other side.
"I don’t like to make promises, I feel that it is an obligation and they cannot always be kept." Resignation began to flood her mind and sadness her heart. "But," Oh? “I will make an exception for you, if possible, of course. Don’t push me." Hope. That's what that answer had given her. Swallowing her fear, she asked.
"If I come back, will you tell me your name?" The silence behind the communications was deafening. Never, not even when she first faced a mutant, had she felt such fear. She can't tell you her name, you idiot. You'll get her in trouble. Finally, after what seemed like hours, May replied.
"No." She expected it, but... that didn't stop it from hurting less.
"Sorry, it was a bad idea-"
"Carrie." May cleared her throat. "I'm not going to tell you my name if you come back. When you come back, I will tell you my name. I know you are coming back, so don't put conditions.” And for the first time in her entire career, she launched into the crater feeling like the world wasn’t so bad anymore, overwhelmed by the happiness she felt.
That feeling lasted five seconds. The happiest five seconds of her life she would say.
As soon as she plunged into the tainted mist, she waited for the typical reaction of her body activating the magnifications, allowing her to survive in that supremely hostile environment. But all she felt was agony. Her body was not reacting well to the augments. It was more like she was rejecting them. Usually, when she hit the bottom of the crater, she would normally have made a dramatic fall, her body powered by the augments and protected by the suit, but this time, she could barely fall without hitting her face to the ground. Alerts sounded in the suit and also in her ear, May's voice almost silenced by the noise and ringing in her ears.
“Carrie! What happened? Status report! Carrie!”
“The augments are not working. I-” She fell to her knees. She could feel the bile rising up her throat, she forced herself to swallow it back, since that would only make things worse. Every part of her body was in pain, but in the extraction wound a hell seemed to have broken loose, her organs screaming from the pain of being in that toxic and corrosive environment. "Sorry May." Without knowing how, she managed to speak one last time. "I… think I ruined your record."
"Carrie, shut up!" The concerned tone in her voice hurt more than anything that was happening to her body. Sorry, May. I do not think I'll come back. "The data doesn't make sense! The suit does not respond- ”
Communication began to falter. Among the little she heard, May's desperate voice was the only thing that mattered to her. Her body had gone from hellish agony to being completely numb, her head felt like cotton. She was looking at the ground. At what point did I end up on the ground? Her vision become more and more darkened.
"May ... sorry."
And then, darkness finally claimed her.