10 minutes later.
Away from the home, there lies a stretched alley that connects one withered street from north to south, surrounded by a line of buildings and houses that look like the relics of a bygone era, or crudely improvised due to construction. The brick walls are weathered with graffiti on top of them, with puddles of murky water that is spread across the potholed pavement, all of which reflect the glare of the sun like a multi-layered crystal. Combined with the absence of living beings in the area, it all seems like there are parts that aren't meant to be known in the Foxhole.
Such can be the result when many run away from the face of danger beyond comprehensible belief, one where regardless of what is like, it's a better result than being under the grasp of the Zlocu and their Human collaborators, away from the devious and hellish "tests" that abound every corner in the territories of "Evolving Zones". No matter how little food or supplies there can be, or even the bare amount of security, the Foxhole is considered to be the best place there can be for those who wish to be left alone.
But can such a city maintain itself for that long?
In one corner near a closed barber shop, three individuals are leaning toward each other near one of the walls of the shop. The first one is a very bulky and tan-skinned man whose muscles bulge beneath the fabric of the old leather jacket with a yellow mohawk and a sneering face. The second one is slender and light-skinned compared to the first one, wearing an old camouflaged uniform with torn-down green pants to boot while wearing an eyepatch on the left eye. Finally, the third one is one dark-skinned man who wears a blue trenchcoat, black shirt and a hockey mask with one golf club on his left hand.
"So, when we're gonna strike, boss man?" the first thug asks while clenching his fingers with fingerless gloves.
"Around four minutes, give or take, but it has to be as swiftly as possible," the leader replies as he hits the floor with the tip of the club.
"Probably, but, are you sure it would be worth the fortune? There's barely money in every part of this damned place anyway," the second thug replies, only for the first one to smack him in the neck with his left hand, making him flinch and yell for a bit.
"Everything is worthy for a fortune, you nimrod, even instant noddles are as rare as caviar in here!" the first thug retorts, only for the leader to step in before he can smack him any further.
"Save this fight for later, my boys, 'cause we need to focus on what's important."
"Yeah yeah, I get it," the first thug says while waving his hand and glancing away from the leader with a scowl on his face.
"That means getting focused in the action too, 'Blaze'."
"But what about the sheriff? You would risk pissing the sheriff, don't ya?" the second thug asks as he looks around the area with his eyes darting as well.
"The sheriff would be busy snooping around with the sheep, so don't worry too much, for as long we can get rich from this," the leader replies while chuckling a bit.
"Hell yeah, and with that, the Helldivers will be known for many, even the babies!" Blaze says while laughing a bit over the implications of what the robbery means. From that, it seems that lawlessness is the only rule of law in the Foxhole despite the presence of people like Russ.
But just as the three Helldivers start making any move to rob the barber shop, three spherical objects fall down to their feet near the wooden entrance, all being nested sawdust and paper cups colored in red while the fuses close near the center of the devices resembling cherries. And just as the three glance at them, all three explosives erupt in a display of fiery blasts that, while small, still have enough force to make the three flinch and yell.
Blaze stumbles backward as his body shakes due to the sudden impact of the bombs, the slender thug curses a bunch of expletives while running back for a bit due to the force of the blasts beneath their feet. But it's the leader himself who stands his ground, yet the protruding eyes as well as the brief snarl indicate what he thinks to do over this stunt.
"Who did this... Who the fuck did this!?" the leader shouts at the top of his lungs as he glances at every corner of the street while his cohorts follow suit as they glance around as well to find the one responsible as swiftly as possible.
Then, a loud laugh is heard nearby, which prompts the three thugs to turn to their left to see one who laughs. It's none other than a dark-skinned teen who wears a rugged green shirt with the word "RULER" printed in the center of it, as well as teal shorts, and black dreads for his hair and stunning blue eyes that demonstrate the gaze of a fierce man while keeping his grin.
"Oh, are you three really that tough? Guess not if my cherry bombs scared you shitless like kittens!" the teen says as he laughs even more, with the three thugs scowling and seething over this action.
"The fuck you think you're doing here, pipsqueak?!" Blaze says as he clenches his fists, his eyes as wide enough to show the whites as he approaches the teen. But just as he steps closer, the teen hurls another cherry bomb right in front of his face as he ignites it with a silver lighter. Blaze swats it away as it explodes, but the teen is already making a run for it on his back.
With a mere command, the Helldivers run in the direction of the teen as their boots echo through the rocky road, their fists clenched with the leader holding the golf club with his two hands. The chase takes them across the wide streets of the Foxhole in the near-deserted district, where more of the derelict houses and buildings are seen while the teen runs as fast as he can like an alleyway cat.
From each turn, it all seems that it takes the actions of a young teen who can stand up against the actions of deplorable thugs like them while he keeps knocking every barrel and lamp in his direction to slow them down.
As the teen turns right as swiftly as he can, he keeps glancing back with a smirk on his face, as if he's expecting to lose them at this rate with the speed he's going. But as soon as he glances to his front, his smile vanishes as he stops dead in his tracks in the deserted alleyway. A brick wall is erected in front of it, almost to deter anyone trying to escape in this part of the Foxhole. The teen now stands as the one who faces this misfortune as he shakes a bit for a bit without glancing at his back.
Oh crud, forgot about this alley... Dang it, Dill!
Due to this, the three thugs approach a trembling Dill as steady as they can like a hunter surrounding a hopeless prey. Dill can't do anything but step back a bit while raising his hands in the air, all while stammering words that he wants to blurt out.
"C-C'mon, fellas, I was just testing this, I swear...!" Dill says while trying to forcefully smile at the thugs, almost like a way to win their favor from anything harmful that they may try on him.
"Ah yeah? Well..." Blaze says before raising his fist and landing it right in Dill's chest, sending him toward the brick wall on the back as he screams a bit due to the force of the punch as he staggers down, with Blaze grinning widely in response. "I was testing this as well."
"To be honest, kid, it would have been good if you used those skills to favor us, giving a town a favor and everything," the slender thug says while standing behind the leader with a smirk on his face.
"Yet, unfortunately, you're too much of an annoyance to work with us. For that, we should set another example from us, Helldivers," the leader says as he approaches a wincing Dill, tapping the head of the golf club to the floor a few times before he tightens his grip on it and raises it upward.
From there, it seems that Dill has met his match at a young age. But as soon as the leader gets closer to him...
"You three, back off, now," a feminine-sounding voice says, one with firmness and sternness that's enough to make the leader stop right in his tracks while Blaze and the other thug turn around to see the direction of the voice.
"Who said that?! Show yourself!" Blaze shouts as he spots the source of the voice. Being none other than one shadowy figure whose features get clearer the closer they approach the thugs and Dill.
Once closer, said figure is one with stunning black eyes, cropped short hair while wearing a black admiral cap, as well as high cheekbones and a strong jawline softened by the gentle curve of her lips. She also wears a brown poncho that covers her from shoulder to the waistline, with the pants being pitch black and some brown boots to match as well. Her build seems to be a mix of bulky arms and soft hands, and her hips have some curves in them as well.
All while keeping a frown with narrowed eyes.
"If you wish to avoid me, then you take either the easy or hard way," the feminine-looking officer says as she approaches the group.
"Just because you're the damn sheriff doesn't mean jack shit if you're the only one facing us. So do us a favor and shut up!" Blaze says as he steps forward and tries to land his fist on the sheriff's face. Just as the fist is about to reach her right cheek, however, she swiftly dodges leftward in a thunderous reflex and in one quick motion, she raises her right hand as her fist lands a blow right on Blaze's mouth, the impact being so strong that the sound of crushed bones is heard.
Blaze falls down to the floor, his hands clutching to his jaw and trembling as well due to the sight of the blood coming from the split lip, as well as his teeth scattered on the floor. This makes the others, even the leader, recoil and even trembling as well due to the sheer impact of the blow.
With only some whimpers and stammering, the three thugs only run away as much as they can while leaving both the sheriff and Dill alone, with Blaze's cries being heard from afar while bits of blood still drop from the lips. Once the three are gone, Dill slowly smiles as he looks up at the sheriff who still looks to her back over the escaping thugs, almost like it's a sight that he's grateful to have.
"Hard way it is, then," the sheriff says, her tone and expression remaining the same.
"Ah, thank you so much, Terry, I would have been a dead man if it wasn't for you!" Dill says with a smile as wide as he can.
"Explain yourself, Dillon. What led to this and why you ended up here," Terry replies in a stern tone as she glances back at Dill, with the same expression she has with the thugs before.
"W-well, I needed some way to test these brand new cherry bombs, but trying it alone would have been a waste, you know?" Dill explains while trying to keep his smile steady.
"So you tried it on those thugs. Dillon, you do know that you would have called for help first instead of dealing with such dangers by yourself. You could have gotten yourself killed."
"Hey, hey! I was thinking of a path to lose them after that, I swear! Well, got overconfident, not gonna lie." As Dill continues to explain, Terry merely grabs Dill's shirt with her right hand as yelps for a bit, her force being that big to be able to carry him like a light stray cat.
"I will take you back to the place with Russ and then reflect on what you did before dinner." Terry then walks away from the alley while Dill tries to break free from her grip to no avail, even with all the roughest tapping he does to her.
"I'll play nice next time, I swear, put me down!"
"Only if you put those firecrackers away."
"Ugh, fine..." Dill sighs as Terry takes him back to their place, one where he resides with Russ, Letisha and soon with Logan.
All in all, it's quite a curious sight for the Foxhole today, for better or worse.
After a while from the walk, the two reach back to Russ's house as the rest of the residents wake up and start their usual routine on the Foxhole. The house is placed alongside other houses that are just as withered and near torn down as that one, with the one vibrant blue fading up amid the cracked walls with some spider webs around it. Despite such appearance, signs of life can still be seen with a lush green garden in the front yard, with a mix of flowers and some plants that give some color to an otherwise barren land.
Terry steps toward the front porch while the wooden floorboard creaks heavily while steadily placing Dill down who at that point has stopped even resisting breaking free from Terry's grip. Not a good time to return to the household it seems.
But just as Terry is about to click the button for the ring bell, someone pulls the door, which turns out to be Russ, with Logan behind him as he gasps at the sight of both Dill and Terry in the house, with Russ kneeling for a bit to face Dill who clutches to his chest.
"Dill, my boy! What happened to you?" Russ says as he hugs Dill with all the tenderness he has, with the latter hugging back in kind for this gesture.
"Well... It's a long story-" Dill tries to explain only for Terry to raise her hand.
"He carelessly used the cherry bombs on a gang and nearly got himself killed for it. For that, he needs a timeout until dinner," Terry replies swiftly and still with the same tone as she has. For that, Russ shakes his head and sighs for a bit while glancing back at Dill.
"But dad, I just want to be a strong man like you and Terry, I just can't idly while watching from here!" Dill protests.
"I understand, but testing new objects in this day and age can only take you so far, and with one slight mistake, you may be denied to test it any further. Besides, someone needs to take care of your mom while I show the guest this new town."
"You mean that stranger...?" Dill asks as he looks behind Russ. Logan merely answers by nodding back.
"His name's Logan, and I'm sure you may learn together here," Russ replies with a slight smile.
"Right then..."
"Now head inside, please, it won't be that long, my boy." With that, Dill enters the front door while slightly nodding at a smiling Logan, who caresses his hear for a moment before stepping outside to face Terry, who still has a stern frown on her face.
"Also, Terry, you gotta show some openness and warmth to Dill, he's technically your younger brother, if you catch my gist," Russ says while he place his hand on Terry's shoulder, tapping it for a bit.
"Not by blood," Terry replies swiftly.
"Still, not everything is dictated by bloodlines, you know, all that matters is that we stick together." Terry merely shrugs while keeping her gaze on Russ, unaware of Logan who is walking toward her.
"Hi there, name's Logan Preaker, it's nice to meet you, Miss Terry..." Logan says as he pauses for a bit in guessing Terry's last name if it's not Romano like the others.
"Terry Pham. You can settle with Terry." Logan slowly nods in response, as curt as her answer is.
"Hey now, get some tact with it. Anyway, would you kindly if we can get our lovely guest to check the rest of the town, plus a visit to your station?" Russ asks as he taps Terry's shoulder once more.
"Why should we?"
"I mean, he's healing up and needs some company at the moment, so give him a break, will ya?" Russ replies while smiling as much as he can while Logan glances at both with a focus on what Russ means. After a moment of silence between the two about taking a stranger like Logan for the rest of the town, Terry then sighs in response.
"Fine, as long he stays out of trouble." With that, Terry walks away from the pavement, with Russ and Logan following her along the way back to the center of the Foxhole. One where Logan may discover more of the meaning of the place and the kinds of people that reside in there.
The three walk toward an active street that's reminiscent of life in early towns of the 19th century, first by passing through custom-made market stalls where the vendors cheerfully interact with the customers going to those places, between the tasty bread and fresh spices found through the surroundings.
"Oh good morning, Sheriff Terry, reporting for duty!" a tan-skinned female near one of the stalls salutes Terry with a smile on her face, to which she merely waves back.
"At ease, Qin," Terry replies as she, Russ and Logan continue to walk on their way to the station.
The next stop is in an open playground, where children of various ethnicities and ages play together with smiles on their faces, playing either tic-tac-toe and tag. It doesn't matter if the streets are full of dust, debris and everything in-between, for as long the children in there still find a way to be together and live in peace without the worry of the world from outside. Even next to the children are some construction workers who try to repair everything in sight by pulling some debris out, making sure there can always be a tomorrow for the town.
"Sheriff Terry!" a light-skinned man says as he and other men help out with the workers in the reparations, making the same salute as Qin did.
"At ease, Derek," Terry replies. What is peculiar is that Qin, Derek and other men do carry the same sort of outfit that Terry wears, namely that of ponchos and black pants, aside from some varying hats like a fedora hat for Qin and a red beret for Derek. It seems like it's part of a larger force that has the likes of Terry leading it.
"Those she replied before... Are they...?" Logan asks as he glances at Russ, who merely chuckles at Logan's question.
"Yep, they're all from the same security force with Terry in charge. You know what else they have in common with her?"
"What would it be?"
"You'll find out inside." The three continue to walk amidst the bustling streets of people who do everything despite the state of the Foxhole. Truly a sign of resistance amidst the hard times in the war of the Zlocu.
Some minutes later, Terry stops in front of the entrance of the building, one that has sturdy bricks for the walls and has a sign of a yellow compass on the upper floor. The windows are barred and the doors are reinforced with heavy iron bolts, likely due to the improvised construction and also for an extra deal of resistance in case intruders step in.
"This is the place, where we, the defenders, can keep all the townsfolk safe and sound. Next you will see how," Terry says, still with the same tone as she pulls the door, letting Logan and Russ enter first before she heads in.
Inside, instead of looking like a police station, it resembles more akin to a gym, with rows and rows of weights and beaten-up sandbags scattered on the floor, with some other officers inside training in their ways, whether by lifting weights, running through treadmills, using dummies to test their combat prowess and so forth. It's also dimly lit with only the lamps from the upper ceiling illuminating the area.
"Look at those poor sandbags. Even I barely wreck two of them in comparison to her, if you catch my gist," Russ says as he winks at Logan, who is too focused on glancing at the station in awe of its double function. As Logan continues to glance everywhere, Russ points at Terry who goes to a row of sandbags hanging with sturdy chains. From there, she slips off her poncho, revealing a toned and muscular physique while wearing a black tank top that hugs her curves through a notable bust in the chest.
She takes a deep breath for a few seconds, and then within the blink of an eye, she flexes her sculpted and sinewy arms as she lands a series of blows to one of the sandbags that's in front of her. Each impact comes with thunderous force, echoing through the gym station as the sandbags sway and groan over her fiery flurry. With only a few hits, the sandbag is dented before she rushes to the next one who repeats the same process. All the while Logan looks with his mouth open and shakes his head a bit.
"She is so strong, but how?" Logan asks, to which Russ replies with a brief chuckle.
"I helped her out, all thanks to my days in the ring, and with time, she honed those skills to become a unique champ for a long while, and even after the invasion, she kept her training so she wouldn't get rusty any time soon." Logan nods while still keeping his gaze on her.
"You must be very proud of your daughter of sorts, right?" From that, Russ' smile drops a little as he looks down for a bit.
"Yeah, I am..."
"Did I say something wrong?"
"Oh, it's just something that is best left for another day, just keep watching, OK?" Logan merely nods in response as he glances back at Terry's training, who is now onto the final sandbag after having dented enough of them.
With one final blow, the sandbag is blown back from the impact, then Terry takes a deep breath as she stretches her arms from the force of each punch she delivered before, all while Logan steadily approaches her.
"Gotta say, that was some pretty neat training you got there, it's the best way to stay in form, right?" Logan asks with a slight smile on his face at Terry. Terry, however, mainly stares off in front of her without glancing back to face Logan.
"...Alright, cool," she replies in the same tone as before, which makes Logan stagger back for a bit.
"I wasn't insulting you or anything..."
"I know, but I am not in the mood for small talk, especially with strangers."
"Well yeah, but shouldn't one get to know better through conversations?"
"I said... I am not in the mood. Are you deaf or what?" But before Logan can reply any further, Russ grabs him in the arm and takes him away as they head to the exit while leaving Terry on her own, still breathing deeply and frowning at the sandbags.
There certainly are some good people for Logan to encounter, but even then, they too have secrets that may be best told for another time, and may, or may not be as strong as Logan's own secret.