The Return of Pluto's Socket

20. Aim, Fire!

Vanessa's POV

December 27

*Zip* I assembled my outfit and looked in the mirror ahead of me. I was residing in a moldy, dirty locker room illuminated with dim ceiling lights. There were other women around, shouting as they shoved passed me. There were mud puddles on the floor with dried blood stains on the wall. Each wooden bench looked like they were close to collapsing with its chipped and decaying crust. I could feel all the bugs crawling around with their long legs and trodding footsteps. I tried to shake off that disgust and returned to my appearance. Although, that didn't make me feel much better. The uniform they gave me consisted of a damp compression shirt, ripped tights, and beaten-up sneakers. The "fitted" look never suited me, and I was used to covering up. It was gross wearing wet and torn clothing as well. Luckily, I was allowed to use my jacket. I managed to walk out of the room, biting my tongue and putting on a determined face.

When I exited and could breathe in the polluted air, I searched the fields and spotted Ingrid. She was standing just outside the locker room, staring into the sky with serious eyes as usual. Her attire was similar to mine and her personality added a natural spice to it: hand on hip and attitude written all over her face. It didn't take her long to see me, as she waved when I came into her peripheral vision.

"Princess," she bowed and cocked a smile, "You took so long to get ready. Did you put on makeup or something?"

Once we stood close, I responded with a sarcastic tone. "You're never letting go of that name, are you? And to answer your question: No, I don't have anything on my face. I don't even wear that stuff. I just couldn't get any privacy, and I felt shy changing in front of all those other women." I whispered, "They're all so scary."

"I think it's just you being so tiny." She flattened the palm of her hand to emphasize how tall I was compared to her. "Have you ever thought that maybe you're the outlier?"

"Considering that I'm the only innocent person amongst a bunch of serial killers, yes."

Ingrid laughed and quickly reminded me that we had somewhere to be. I was already tired from it being early in the morning. I pouted and reluctantly dragged my feet to follow her. Two weeks had passed since Ingrid sprained her leg, and seeing her take long strides made me feel content with her recovery. We walked under the green skies of Washington, stumbling next to tall and ruined towers. The floor held thousands of dirty footprints, stories from different lives crossing one another. There was a mix of people around us in identical clothing who were going to the same destination, indicating their membership of the Dead Maples. The two of us looked like pawns in a chess game, accumulating under someone's command and marching alongside other soldiers. Luckily, their daunting presence decreased once we got to our designated location.

It was a big, ominous building. It seemed abandoned with no sign of society left behind, besides paperwork and old photos sitting on desks. We went through the ground floor, passing front offices and closed-off counters. But behind all that city life, in the back of the establishment, we found a wide-spread grass field with tires, targets, short walls, and other equipment. This gated area resembled an obstacle course and provided space to improve our shooting and mobility. Its ground was the same width as that of a concert hall. On the floor laid bullets, arrows, roughened jump rope, bled-through bandages, and miscellaneous materials that had chipped from the appliances. I felt intimidated by its size and the unpredictability of what I'd have to do in such a dangerous site.

When we arrived, everyone immediately lined up, touching shoulder to shoulder, hands behind their backs, and looking straight into the field. Although I was confused by their movement, Ingrid rushed me to do it as well. She stationed me right next to her at the end of the line, and she kept murmuring about how no matter what the leader said, I couldn't talk. I rolled my eyes as she repeated this line many times while we waited. I was afraid to look out of place, so I tried my best to duplicate her look and radiate the same menacing face. I tightened my shoulders and lifted my chin, freezing every facial muscle and fixing my posture.