Wasteware 07

07: I Know You

12:45, Amaya left the armory with her Mauser M2 side arm and extra clips on her duty belt. Slung across her chest was a Heckler & Koch 416 D20RS assault rifle. Amaya had chosen the longer barreled version to increase the kill range of the 5.56 X 45mm NATO rounds. The pack on her back held a mini survival kit, a first aid kit, and emergency rations. She looked ready for war, a stark contrast to the escort mission planned for the day, but the kit was necessary. A contingency plan in case the Block had to be locked down for any reason while they were outside.

She had 15 minutes until go time. Preston was once again checking over equipment in preparation and only glanced at Amaya briefly when she entered the Throne room. She left him to his task so Gibbs could introduce her to the eight maintenance workers they would escort to the surface. She recognized each of their faces, as she had some interactions with them in the past. Other than Enrique however, she could not have told you any of their names. Another reminder of how insular the security team had become. Perhaps always was.

Maybe Preston had been right. It was harder to make tactical decisions about people you cared for. So they isolated themselves out of some instinct of their training. It was a hard pill to swallow. For all intents and purposes, the last five years had shrunk their world down to 370 people. Still, the team could not be bothered to branch out from themselves.

Problems to mull over another time Amaya told herself as she and Gibbs discussed the day's plan with the maintenance crew.

“We are taking the most direct route to the front entrance,” Gibbs was explaining. "We'll stay in a tight group while we move. We aren’t expecting any hostiles, but you all need to understand that if we issue an order we need it followed.”

Amaya nodded, “No hesitation. Hesitation gets you killed. Just do what we say when we say it.”

Unlike when the scientists had gone up there was no need to secure such a large area. The maintenance team would accompany the sec squad from the start. With their equipment checked, Gibbs, Preston, Boyer, and Amaya escorted the team to the back door.

Amaya, who was leading the group, came to a stop just beneath the manhole cover. Her hand touched the rough metal underside, surprised at how warm it felt. She pushed it up and slid it to the side, pulling herself up to the street above. The temperature was like a blast from an oven. Not only was it hot, but the air was thick. Not quite the heaviness of humidity, but as if it was full of electricity. It had a strange weight to it. The orange sun seemed to spill out above them. Its rays diffracting through the air in all directions, moving from a bright orange to a deep red. Like the sky at sunset, except this was still afternoon. The blue light should not have been scattering that much but, here she was looking up at it. The red sky, the thick air, and the silence on the surface gave Amaya the eerie sensation of being on a strange planet rather than the Earth she remembered.

It was one thing to see the destruction through the lens of a camera, watching the team while in the safety of the Throne room. To witness it with one’s own eyes was a different story altogether. What was once a busy office district of a suburban town in the Arizona desert was no longer. That was really the only way to describe the town, no longer. What remained was a graveyard of human engineering, a tombstone for the coffin known as Carbon Block. Amaya brought the H&K416 up to her shoulder and looked down the sight as she stepped away from the entrance to the block. Promisingly, seven or eight blocks down the street some buildings were still standing. She laughed when she read the faded sign on the side of one of the,. Preston looked at her with an unspoken question on his face. She motioned with the barrel of her rifle to indicate he should look in that direction. “Good to know a great icon of American culture is still standing.”

“Fucking Wal-Mart,” he laughed.

Amaya took point. Gibbs positioned himself at the rear while Preston and Boyer flanked the tightly grouped maintenance crew. They tried to stay low since there was very little to offer for concealment. It was nothing more than unconscious training kicking in rather than actually accomplishing anything in the way of cover. Should anyone out there be looking at them, they fit the very definition of sitting ducks. Well, sitting ducks armed with assault rifles.

To compensate for their perceived vulnerability, they moved quickly. Amaya’s gut instincts told her that there wasn’t any immediate danger. Despite that, she kept her reflexes on a tight trigger, ready for action at any small sign that her instincts were wrong. In five minutes they had jogged the length of the Block, from the back door to the front. Preston, Boyer, and Amaya set up a perimeter while Gibbs and the maintenance crew got a look at the front door. From here on out Amaya was no longer concerned about what they were doing. She moved into an advantageous position, just as Preston and Boyer were doing, just as Gibbs would do. They each took a different compass point and continuously scanned the area for any sign of life.

The consistency of the air held the heat close to the surface, like a jacket of warmth wrapped around the skin. It wasn’t quite unbearable but it wasn’t pleasant either. Amaya felt a twinge of sympathy for those doing physical labor in it. The danger to Amaya was not heat stroke but rather the heat and the monotony of scanning the same horizon for hours lulling her to sleep. She kept her mind focused as the time passed by counting things in her field of vision, varying the distance she scanned, switching from the scoop to her naked eye. Little changes to break up the task. It was inarguably dull work. But it was outside. Even though no one would describe it as crisp or clean, after so many years of breathing the same recirculated air, it was enough.

The most exciting thing that day happened two hours into the 5-hour outing when Amaya saw a hawk circling in the sky through her scoop. Its appearance meant life existed outside of the 370 people on the Block. A hawk didn’t exist without having food to eat. The circle of life had persevered despite what humans had done to it.

At 18:00, the combination of heat and exertion reached its apex. Gibbs called it a day. To their credit the maintenance workers got a great deal of work accomplished. Visible at the top of the titanium door, yellow paint that read “Government Fallout Shelter” peeked out. Along with a clear walkway leading up to the door.

The way back was conducted in the same manner as the way out and just as uneventful. Amaya took one last look at the red sky before descending, as that would be her last opportunity to experience the surface for a while. Committee duties would keep her occupied for the foreseeable future. When they entered the Block the cool air-conditioned air rushed over her. Amaya said a silent prayer of thanks for the temperature-regulated environment. Although all she wanted was a shower, she would have to wait for the debrief in the Throne room to be over. Enrique gave a report to the sec team about how much they accomplished and what they would need to completely remove the debris from the main entry. A few large pieces of cement would require equipment to break up, equipment too large for the secret back door.

Two possible solutions to that problem were discussed. The first and most ideal was to scout the city to see if any construction equipment was salvageable. Baring that, they would rely on the tried and true method of manpower to dig them out. If the ancient Egyptians could build the pyramids with labor, certainly a few cement blocks wouldn’t keep them from clearing their door. Regardless tomorrow they would start moving what they could with volunteers from the Block. If no volunteers presented themselves, the sec squad would implement mandatory manual labor shifts.

Amaya would not have anything to do with that, however. Tomorrow she, Preston, and Barnes would join the committee to determine what would be done once the door was freed. Her days would be filled with that and walking the grid until the plans were fully formed. Glad she was allowed her above-ground adventure before that duty started, Amaya left the Throne room for her own quarters.

Amaya stepped out the shower when a knock on her door called her attention. Wrapping a towel around herself, she headed to answer it. Her hand hovered over the intercom panel for just a moment. Remembering her conversation with Jace the previous night, she broke protocol. The lock twisted in her hand and she opened the door. “Shit El, you’ve got great timing don’t you?”

Stepping back from the door, she retreated into her bedroom.

“Why did you answer the door if you weren’t dressed?” Preston asked, shutting the door behind him. Before she could answer, he called out. “Wait, I don’t want to know.”

Amaya rolled her eyes and smiled to herself. “Give me a minute to get dressed.”

She pulled on a teeshirt and gym shorts. She returned to her guest, tossing her still-wet hair into a messy ponytail as she crossed the room. “To what do I owe the visit?”

Preston had made himself comfortable on her sofa. His muscular arm was thrown over the back, his black booted feet propped up on the coffee table. “I can’t come visit without a reason?”

Amaya squeezed his arm as she passed by so she could come around and sit next to him. “Oh, you can, but you don’t. So spill it.”

“I just wanted to know what you thought of Ken’s choices for our little committee.”

“I don’t know who Ken’s choices are yet, but you clearly do. Come on El. tell.”

Preston pulled a folded sheet of yellow-lined legal paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to Amaya. He watched her with an almost disturbing curiosity as she unfolded it and read the names. There were a couple she was vaguely familiar with but she didn't have an opinion about anyone on the committee and told Preston as much.

“Sorry I couldn’t provide you with more advanced intel,” she told him.

Preston shrugged. “I thought you’d be at least a little disappointed that Jace wasn’t on the list.”

“I wasn’t expecting him to be. Infectious disease, remember? Not really a specialty that would be needed for our committee.” Amaya crossed her arms under her chest, annoyance starting to prickle her. El might have been her best friend, but talking to him about Jace made her uncomfortable. She wished they could move on to a different topic, but her wish was not granted.

“Well, he is on another list you should know about.”

“What list is that?” Amaya asked flatly.

“The list of volunteers for tomorrow. So, while you and I are sitting in a nice air-conditioned room talking to his friends, he’ll be out busting his ass hauling rubble.”

“Shit, they got that together quick,” she responded.

“You aren’t worried?”

“About Jace?” she asked, even though she knew that was who Preston was referring to. She needed to hear him say it.

“Yeah, you won’t be up there to protect him.”

“I trust the entire squad with my own life, Preston. I’m not going to suffer any extra worry about Jace under their care,” she told him. “What are you getting at?”

“I wasn’t suggesting our team falls down on the job,” Preston said. “He just doesn’t strike me as the most physically capable guy. Can he keep himself from getting hurt up there?”

“Oh for fucks sake,” she sighed. “This whole Jace isn’t man enough thing you and my dad have going on is a bit annoying, if I am honest.”

Preston flashed her a toothy grin. “Sorry, my concern for you is annoying.”

She kicked him playfully before resting her bare feet on his legs. “It was one date, and you two are acting like I’m going to get my heart broke.”

Preston leaned forward and grabbed her feet. He gave Amaya time to turn on the couch so he could put them into his lap and started massaging them. “One date, but you answered the door practically naked because you thought he was on the other side.”

Amaya sunk herself into the couch and closed her eyes, letting Preston’s hands work over the balls of her feet. “Don’t read too much into that.”

“It’s hard not to,” he told her. “I know you. I know what you like.”

Amaya opened one eye to look at him, “If you know what I like, you’d be doing less talking about Jace and more working those hands.”

She wiggled her toes for effect. Preston responded by pressing more firmly, working out the tension that had formed from walking on the concrete streets all day. Amaya’s mind drifted to the last time Preston had given her a foot massage as she relaxed into his touch. It had started much like this. His hands innocently on her feet. That is not where they had stayed. She was wrapped in that memory when his fingers moved up to grasp the back of her calves. A quiet moan escaped from her at the implication of his touch. Immediately, heat rose into her cheeks, flushing with embarrassment.

Preston chuckled, “I told you, I know what you like.” He ran his hand further up her leg, fingers lightly grazing her skin until they came across the rough scar on her thigh. His thumb traced it slowly. His eyes glazed over, looking not at her scar but a thousand miles and a lifetime away. It was a sad, longing, lost look.

Amaya sat up a little straighter, placing her hand over his. “El,” she started before a knock on her door pulled both of their attention away. Amaya untangled herself from him, standing to answer her door.

“At least I used to know what you liked,” he murmured.

She stopped dead and turned to him, “You still do, and you always will.”

“None of that, My. We both know that knock belongs to the person you wanted in your quarters this afternoon.”

“None of that, El,” she parroted back to him. “You will…”

She was cut off as the rasping at her door came again, this time louder and more rapid. Preston nodded in that directions as if to say you better get that. Amaya walked to the intercom and pressed the button to speak to her guest, “Slide your card.”

The electronic voice announced that Dr. Jace Anderson was at her door. No surprise there. She unlocked the door and opened it. “Hey, Jace. Come on in.”

Amaya stepped aside so he could enter. When she turned, she saw that Preston had returned to his relaxed position on her couch.

Jace started to apologize as he entered the room, “I didn’t realize you had company.”

Preston spoke up before Amaya could, standing and turning towards Jace, “No worries, Anderson. I was just about to head out.”

“I really didn’t mean to interrupt. You don’t need to rush off on my account.”

“You two enjoy your evening,” Preston squeezed Amaya’s shoulder on his path to the door. “We’ll pick this up tomorrow, My.”

“Of course,” she told him. “See you in the morning, El.”

Jace had stepped into her room but looked unsure of himself. Eyes flicked between the couch and the table. He couldn't decided so he just stood halfway between the two. Worry wrinkled his forehead. “Oh geez, Amaya, I should have messaged you on the comm before coming over. I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s ok,” she told him with a smile. “Preston and I were just going over the committee roster. It really wasn’t anything urgent.” Amaya realized as uncomfortable as Jace looked, she was feeling similarly. She was unsure where in her quarters would be appropriate for them, so she took that variable out of the equation. She’d solve it another time. “Why don’t we go grab dinner in the mess?”

Jace’s shoulders relaxed at the suggestion, and the wrinkles on his face smoothed. “That would be great. I’m dying to hear about your day above ground.”

“There’s not much to tell, just a pretty average day at work if you don’t count the hawk flying overhead,” Amaya joked as they walked down the hallway toward the elevator.

“A hawk? Really? That’s amazing,” he replied, genuinely excited by the news.

“Maybe you’ll get to see one tomorrow.”

“You know about that already? I hoped I’d get to discuss it with you myself first.”

“It is literally my job to know these things,” she said.

“Is there anything you don’t know about me?” he asked with a smile that she hoped was because he was joking around with her because she meant to dish it right back.

“As a matter of fact, no,” she said with a deadpan tone. “I pulled your file after our first conversation.”

Jace’s smile disappeared from his face, and his eyes widened. Amaya broke out in a burst of hearty laughter, which only caused the look of concern to worsen.

“Oh gods, I’m kidding,” she told him. “I haven’t read your file, but that look makes me think I should.”

Jace averted her eyes, looking far down the hall. “What kind of things are in those files exactly?”

Her hand grabbed his forearm, pulling his attention towards her. “Pretty much everything that has happened in your life is in that file. I’m still joking with you. Don’t do anything professionally that would give me cause to read it, and you won’t have to worry.”

He paused and turned to her, worry wrinkling his forehead again. “You really won’t read it just to satiate your curiosity?”

“No,” she shook her head for emphasis. “It’d only be fair to do that if I gave you mine in return.”

“Well, now that is an interesting proposition,” Jace said.

“I promise you it's not the most interesting proposition you could make, and there are ones I’d agree to that would be much more satisfying.” She laughed as his face flushed red with the thought and beckoned him into the waiting elevator.