Can't Have Shit in Kentucky (Project Zomboid) ch.17 (Patreon)

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It was all coming back to Roy. Memories long hidden now brought out. He was younger then, and idealistic. With the certainty of youth, he donned a uniform and did what was asked of him. It was a patriotic thing to do after all, going through jungle, and river trail, and tunnel. They were doing a good job. They were keeping the world safe and making sure that Uncle Sam and the democratic system it had would last for generations to come. Then the disappointment, the loss and the shame. America pulled out of that brush war and allowed its soldiers to rot.

It was from there Roy vowed to himself that he would never take up arms for his country again. Why should he when his country was so eager to abandon him, men like him, and the people it was supposed to protect? But this time, he wasn't fighting for his country. He was fighting to protect his blood, even if they didn't even recognize him anymore, even if they were far away and promised not to see him ever again. They were still his own and a man must do what he can to protect and shelter his family, no matter if they will hate him, fear him. He must do what he must because he was a man and it simply must be done.

He didn't expect that he would be made to embody that ideal by being like a knight out of those Arthurian fantasies.

The tent they were all in was an armory. Lockers and boxes adorned all around and filled to the brim with enough equipment to arm a militia. Rifles, shotguns, pistols and more lay ready to be used, ready to be shot. Helmets and uniforms, their signature olive coats, could be worn at any moments notice. It was only after donning their gear Roy realized something was different. "Gambeson and brigandine," The Buyer said, tapping onto his chest. "No better protection from what is still a human element. No use for tactical plates when them zombies will bite and claw you."

"It's warm," Roy mentioned, tugging at his own equipment.

"Heavy too, god damn," Elis added, walking out from behind. Gone were his civilian clothes, he was armed now just like a Lumiere grunt. He did not part from his baseball cap however.

"The average grunt in the army wears around 60 pounds or so," the Buyer said. "This is lighter."

"Back in Vietnam, I had 90 pounds of gear," Roy revealed, recalling his service. "I mostly left the heavy shit back at our firebase when we went out on patrol."

"Well, you won't have to worry about that. We are not going anywhere without our vehicles," the Buyer said, watching as the volunteers all armed themselves or were being guided by the Buyer's soldiers on how to wear them. "We are going to be doing this as clean as possible. We go in, do our thing, then leave. No looting, no lolly-gagging. We just do our job."

"I can live with that," Roy nodded. The faster they finish their mission, the more he could set his mind at ease. How long had it been since the air was poisoned? How much of it was in the air, ready to choke the life of the world? He imagined briefly of his family sniffing the poison, getting sick then....turning into those monsters. Roy did not like that image, not one bit. The Buyer nodded, moving off to speak with the other volunteers, asking about their health, their feelings on things. This, Roy noted.

"Um....Roy? A little help?" asked a weak voice. The bus driver turned to see Jacky stand, her jacket a mess. Roy shook his head as he walked over to her, adjusting the straps on her uniform. Elis snickered, his finger tapping onto his rifle. Jackie flushed some more. She knew she was out of her element here but she wasn't a big fan of letting others do things while she sat in the sidelines. She had always prided herself on achieving much on her own. And no way in hell was she going to let this chance pass her by. Eventually, Roy managed to secure her uniform. With a satisfied nod, Roy stood back. "Now you look like a soldier." he said with a smile.

"I don't feel like one," grumbled the waitress. She glanced around.. "How do you think we will do? Like you said, we ain't soldiers."

"Yeah, I have been wondering about that as well," Elis said, his rifle slung over his shoulders. He turns to Roy, wondering what his senior has to say on the subject. "How about you, Roy? Yer the veteran."

"They'll probably ask us to guide them," Roy mused. "Extra guns aren't always a bad idea either."+ 

Jackie thought about that, her holding a rifle and facing a horde of those creatures. Their snarls, their screams rushing towards her like a unending tide of water. Her throat felt heavy, doubt creeping up in her chest. What the hell was she doing? She wasn't a soldier. She didn't know how to shoot a gun either. What the hell was she going to do there?

Roy saw this. "You okay there, kid?" 

Jackie looked up, doubt in her eyes. "I'm just thinking that I made a mistake. I...I'm no soldier." 

"If you get second-thoughts, there's no shame to back out. This ain't the army," Roy offered. But as Jackie was going to reply, the radios of the Lumiere soldiers cracked to life. From his corner, the Buyer was in the midst of conversing with a volunteer when his radio heeded his attention. He clicked into it to listen. He nodded, turning to them all. "Cowboy's back, ladies and gentlemen. We are going to get briefed then we are heading out. If there is anyone that would like to back out, this is your chance." 

The volunteers all glanced at each other. Jackie knew this was the time to raise her hand. But she said nothing and so did the others. The Buyer waited some more before nodding. "Then let's get to it and save the world."

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A/N: Updoot.