//------------------------------// // The Hills Are Alive // Story: Chaos Incorporated // by DontTreadOnMe777777 //------------------------------// "We made it! Yes, it's finally over!" Ricky collapsed onto the ground as Jeremiah took out the keys, smirking. "Wanna go again?" The medical officer jibed. Ricky's face contorted into an expression of horror. "No! No more!" Jeremiah smiled as Chrysalis stormed over to the truck. "Where the hell were you!" "Taking a leisure drive with a new friend. What have you been doing?" Ricky snarked. "Endlessly walking and being passed by one quite out-of-control pair of idiots." "Ricky wasn't out of control, he just rolled at max speed in neutral down a hill or two." Jeremiah raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. "It's not my fault that the pedals shift gears! Or that the handbrake also puts it in neutral! You old people design cars like spaceships, as complicated as possible!" "What's a sp-" Jeremiah's question was cut off by Ricky, who raised a palm to him. "Anyways," Ricky began in a drooping tone, "how far have we gone?" "I don't know, I'm not a walking stat sheet." Chrysalis shrugged. Ricky held a hand to his eyes to check the position of the sun. It was a little past noon, according to the sun. In front of the column, the advance guard had reported that the river they were shooting for wasn't too far off at this point. They were estimating a mile or two. Right now, the troops were sat down, enjoying their lunch rations. Once again, the troops were mingling, some trading rations, others trading cigarettes and matches, others trading money, and so on. Small talk rose sluggishly in the warm air. The whole army was pervaded by a feeling of boredom; they were only marching, after all. Ricky strutted in between circles and rag-tag groups of soldiers, receiving many a nod and wave, and returning the gestures in kind. Jeremiah and Chrysalis followed close behind. "How long until we're marching again, Chrysalis?" The Scot called over his shoulder. "We've been stopped for a while now, not too much longer." "I meant as in a time estimate." Ricky deadpanned. "Ten minutes? I don't know, okay?" The Changeling huffed. Ricky realized he was pushing it, stifling a further question. By this point, they had reached the center point of the camp, where the most vital equipment was situated. The commanders were somewhere around here as well. Rounding a Pak, the pair did indeed come across the three. Karl was leaning up against the left wheel of the Pak 40, his swastika hat pulled down low enough that the brim was scraping his chin. His chest rose slowly, before deflating back down. MacArthur was sitting cross-legged on the lush grass. A small tin of rations, along with a can opener and a small metal mug, lay on the ground in front of him. He was currently trying to get a match lit, scraping on the side of his pipe. Decius was also sitting on the grass, legs spread. He was digging at some of his rations as well, munching softly on some kind of bread. In his right hand was his gladius, gleaming happily. The edge was now sharp once more. The two not sleeping took notice of the three now entering the vicinity. Ricky stood out like a sore thumb; wearing a gray T-shirt in the midst of a sea of the same three uniforms separated him quite noticeably, and his blue jeans didn't help much there either. Chrysalis was still the most prolific, however: she was the only remotely pony-like creature not tied up with the prisoners, a likeness which had earned her a few nasty looks. Sun shined through the holes in her legs like a bombed-out building wall. Jeremiah wasn't too abnormal, although the medic did seen a tad nervous about being near all the divisional commanders, the top of the current chain of command. He jittered about, shifting on his feet constantly. MacArthur finally lit his match, shoving it in the pipe for a couple of moments while puffing, until the flame caught. Once that was done, he waved the match around quickly, putting out the small fire. "Hey, Ricky. I didn't see you around last night or this morning." He raised an eyebrow. "Some of us were a bit worried about you." "Aw, thanks for giving a shit, Douglas. I slept with some of the troops, seeing as how I couldn't find a tent for me." "Yours was in the traditional Roman commander spot, the center, with the rest of us." Decius was now in the conversation, standing up slowly. "But nobody told me, that's the problem," Ricky shook a finger. "Ah well. What about this morning?" Decius pressed. "I got caught up in morning inspection, where I met this fine officer." Ricky gestured to Jeremiah, who seemed even more nervous now. "I know you, don't I? Jeremiah... Green, wasn't it?" MacArthur pondered. "U-yes, yes sir. Jeremiah G-Green, sir." Jeremiah was beginning to shake, trembling. Ricky glanced his way, eyebrows raised in concern. Jeremiah didn't meet his gaze. "Anyways," Ricky kept his eyes on Jeremiah, "I hitched a ride in one of the ambulances he commands, and after a wild ride, here we are." Decius laughed. "Took a ride on a wild ass of your own, hmm?" "Shut up." Ricky playfully jabbed. "Well," Jeremiah broke the chain of banter, "I'll be on my way. Must look after my crews and all." MacArthur stuck out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, Jeremiah grabbed it. The two men shook. And then, Jeremiah was walking away, his steps erratic. "Well, I believe it's time to be moving again soon." Decius said, his tone subdued. Ricky walked over to Karl, being careful not to make too much noise. Sitting down next to him, he carefully raised his arms in the direction of his head. He grabbed one of the ridges on the hat. Ricky giggled quietly, before ripping the hat off Karl's face. Despite this, Karl didn't wake instantly. The warm sun, however, pierced his eyelids. Karl began to fidget, reflexively squeezing his eyes further closed. Eventually, his reflexes couldn't take the pain anymore, and Karl began to drift back into the realm of light. "Auugh." Slowly, he lifted his hand up to block the light that was currently assaulting him. Now was the time to act. "Wake up, Karl!" Ricky chimed loudly - right into Karl's ear. The German general reacted instantly. Ricky immediately found himself at the long end of a Luger barrel. Karl's crazed eyes met Ricky's shocked ones. Nobody moved; Ricky held his breath. Everybody was tense. Eventually, Ricky's blue calmed the flame in Karl's eyes. He slowly put the Luger back in its holster. And with that, he bent over, picking his cap up from the grass. He quietly put it back on, adjusting the brim a bit. "We should be on our way." "Yeah," Ricky murmured as he realized he had been near death yet again. 'Actually, I've already had a lot of close calls.' He began to recall the occasions. 'When I fought the six ponies on that road, when I was on trial,' he began to count on his fingers, 'the donut thing-actually, scratch that, that was easy. Well, actually, I had a chance to die when Sombra was about to shoot me. Anyways, what else? Uh, the fight in the castle, the Battle of Arbor Hollow Hill, and just now twice: the truck ride and that with Karl.' After that sobering thought, Ricky’s thought turned to the fact that many of the men were beginning to lift themselves off the ground. ‘Time to go again,’ he thought as he watched. “Stick with us this time, alright kid?” “Shut up, old man. It’s your fault I got left behind!” Ricky gesticulated. “...Debatable.” “Graah! Whatever, let’s get moving,” Ricky threw his hands up. Tensions were on a level higher than normal at the top of the command change as the army started off again. This time, Ricky was once again at the front with the other commanders, sulking. The others, minus Chrysalis, as usual, were chatting amongst themselves. ‘Why is that? Chrysalis seems to get excluded out of everything around them.’ Ricky, now in a thinking stew, puzzled as the walk stretched on. After a few minutes, the head of the column had gotten near to the top of a prominent hill in the area, which the commanders had decided would be a good place to observe the terrain from. The path to the summit was a veritable goat-trail that winded and twisted like an angry snake up the side. It was covered in rocks, small streams, and large brown puddles of standing water, bursting with mosquitos. As such, the trek had been tiring for the troops, who were carrying their heavy loads. However, near the top, it was beginning to level out and become less rugged. Ricky was beginning to quietly sweat as he headed the two man wide column. Sure, he was pretty fit from playing sports and living in the hills of Scotland as he did, but this was a lot more humid than Scotland, which was beginning to drain Ricky’s energy reserves. Turning yet another roundabout in the trail, Ricky looked up from navigating his feet around a particularly dense clump of rocks and snags, and was greeted with the top of the hill. “Yeah! The river can’t be too far now!” Ricky yelled excitedly, which put a smile on many of the soldiers in the front of the column. Partially because they were close to an easier walk, but also partly because they were beginning to become endeared to their odd little commander. Jogging through the tall grass interspersed with flowers that covered the top, Ricky went to the other side of the slope. He put a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright sun that dominated the sky, since there were few clouds. He expected to see the shimmering band of water just at the foot of the hill, or maybe a bit further than that. Instead, it was visible in the distance - separated from Ricky by a range of hills. Most definitely, a very long distance. “NOOO!” The hills were alive with the sound of Ricky.