18 Years Ago:
A 10-year-old Zoey watched in awe as her father worked on fixing up an old computer that hadn't functioned properly in a long time. She barely had any idea what her father was doing to fix it and couldn't remember any of the names of the tools that she had given to him when he asked for them but still found herself fascinated by what he was doing. Her father was so good with his hands and that was always the thing that she admired about him the most. This was mostly due to his engineering background and his profession which was a robotics engineer but still, none of that mattered to Zoey. The only thing that did matter to her, was how awesome her father was and how one day, she wished she could be just as good with her hands as him.
"Okay, that should do the trick," said Zoey's father, apparently finished with the task. "Zoey, want to go see if it works back inside the house?"
"R-Really?" asked Zoey, excitedly.
Zoey’s father was a tall man in his late thirties with hazel eyes and silver colored hair which made people think he was older than he actually was. Sometimes, in Zoey’s opinion, he almost looked like a mad scientist, especially on days when his hair was messy.
"Of course, you helped after all. I wouldn't have been able to do it without you."
"I...I didn't do that much," responded Zoey, sadly. "You did most of the work."
"Not at all. You were a great help. I definitely see you being an engineer just like your dad when you're older. Hell, one day, you might even surpass your old man."
Zoey smiled at her father's words of encouragement, even though she did doubt them a small bit.
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Zoey couldn't believe her eyes as she stared at the monitor of the computer her father had just fixed. It worked. The computer really worked. Zoey's father chuckled at his accomplishment like it wasn't that big of a deal. Zoey looked up at her father to tell him otherwise.
"You...really did it!" she exclaimed. "You actually fixed it!"
"Haha, I guess I did. Wasn't too hard, in all honestly. It was in surprisingly good shape for being as old as it is. Just needed a little bit of TLC, really."
"Uh, dad, why did you fix this old computer, anyways? Was it for a friend?"
Her father laughed.
"No, not quite," answered her father. "Do you know what this Saturday is?"
Zoey thought for a moment but came up blank.
"No, does something important happen this Saturday?"
"Well, something important did happen. Actually, it was the most important thing in my life. Your birthday, silly. The computer is yours."
"R-Really?" questioned Zoey in shock, now looking at the computer in an entirely different way than before.
"Yep, and that's not all. Give me one second."
Zoey's father walked over to a different part of the garage which was the place where her father would spend his free time working on building all sorts of things. Despite being so happy about her present, something in her father's garage caught her attention. It was on a work bench and from what Zoey could see, it was something oval shaped with a red shine that almost glowed and also, had wires coming out of it.
"Oh, that's just a little side project that I've been working on," her father said, startling her. "It's nothing too special but check this out."
Zoey's father gave her a handful of classic PC games that could be played on the computer that he had fixed for her. Zoey was so distracted by the games that she completely forgot about the red object that had caught her eye. As she began looking through all of the games and reading about them on the backs of the game cases, her father smiled at her but then it disappeared as he looked over at the red oval thing that Zoey was looking at, before he had taken her mind off of it.
"Can you show me how to play some of them?" asked Zoey, ecstatic about her new games.
"Of course, I can, sweetheart," said Zoey's father, smiling. "Some of them are kind of tricky to get the hang of. First things first, though, let's get this bad boy set up in your room."
"Hey dad, thanks for always letting me help you," said Zoey. "It makes me feel...useful...it's nice."
"Haha...what do you mean...I'm the one, who should be thanking you for all of your help," responded Zoey's father. "It's nice to have my own little assistant. You're going to do great things one day, Zoey...things that far surpass anything I can do. I can't wait for that day to come."
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Present:
It had been forever since Zoey had a bath of any kind and being inside of the cold, lake water, refreshed her in a way that she didn't think was possible. The only thing that Zoey had on, clothing-wise, was the eye patch covering her right eye. Other than that, she was completely naked inside of the lake which was something that she didn't usually enjoy doing, especially in front of other people. Luckily for her, she was the only one in the lake, so she didn't have to worry about anyone seeing her and she doubted Ricochet would bother spying on her since he didn't seem interested in her to begin with. The blood of the man, who was strangling her, was no longer on her and had been washed off, completely. All of her face was wet as well, except for the area near her eye patch, indicating that Zoey had used her hands to rinse off the blood, rather than dunk her entire head in the water, to avoid getting her right eye wet in any way. Unfortunately, the blood still stained both her green jacket and grey tank top.
I guess I'm going to have to find some new clothes, here soon, thought Zoey to herself. I wish I had a spare pair with me. Oh well, the next time Ricochet and I go out, looking for supplies, I'll ask him if we can go looking for some clothes I can wear. Actually, I should check the RV I'm staying in and see if there's any clothes in the drawers that actually fit me. I haven't really looked around the RV too much...I've only just used it to sleep in, really.
Zoey leaned back, closed her eye and thought about what her father had told her when she was younger.
Great things, huh? My dad always did have high expectations of me when I was younger. Hell, he was the only one that ever treated me like I was actually useful. I wonder if he's ashamed of the type of person I've grown up to be. I mean...the fact that he wasn't left behind and I was says a lot about how different we are. He was a good man, through and through and me...I could never live up to his expectations. I feel bad for the way things ended between us...he was just trying to help his daughter...and I...I...scolded him for it. I made the one person, who had always been there for me, feel bad about saving his own daughter's life. Add that to all of the other countless shitty things I've done.
Zoey touched the right eye patch in remembrance of her father and feelings of disappointment in herself plagued her mind, causing her to no longer enjoy the bath she was taking inside of the lake.
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After drying off, Zoey made her way back to her RV, still naked, holding the bloodied and dirty clothes she had been wearing for what felt like an eternity. When she arrived at the RV park, she didn't see Ricochet anywhere which made her think that he was either taking care of the bodies still, cleaning up the mess in the tan RV or in his RV, resting. Zoey made her way into her RV and closed the door behind her. She checked the drawers in the bedroom and, to her surprise, not only found a ton of clothes that fit her but even some pajamas that were her size. Zoey decided to put on the pajamas, that were Christmas themed, with tiny reindeer on them, crawled into her bed that hadn't been made and closed her eye to rest. As she drifted off to sleep, her mind was, finally, a bit at ease, after discovering all of the extra clothes inside of the RV.
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The three-hour nap that Zoey had taken managed to make her feel much better. She decided to keep her pajamas on and save the other clothes in the drawers for when her and Ricochet were heading out to search for supplies, next. Speaking of Ricochet, Zoey hadn't heard any noise coming from outside of her RV in a while and this made her question what he was doing. She left her RV and headed towards the one that Ricochet stayed in. On her way to it, she noticed something lying on the ground near the RV, that caught her attention. She bent down to pick it up and studied it, trying to figure out what it was and why it was in the ground in the first place?
A syringe? Zoey thought to herself, figuring out what the strange thing in her hand was. What the hell is a syringe doing outside of Ricochet's RV? Is it his? Wait, is Ricochet a druggie? I don't take him as one, especially with how determined he is to kill, whoever he's after. Getting high would just get in the way of that, wouldn't it? Not that it's any of my business. I should probably just keep this discovery to myself for the time being.
Zoey, not wanting to put the syringe back onto the ground, placed it in the pocket of her pajama bottoms. She made her way closer to the RV that was in front of her and tried to see if she could see Ricochet through any of the windows but couldn't. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door of the RV. She waited for Ricochet to answer but didn't hear any footsteps headed in the direction of the door. Zoey tried knocking, again, but still got no response of any kind. She looked in all directions before checking to see if the door was unlocked. It was. Despite feeling bad about going into his RV without his permission, Zoey's worry for Ricochet forced her to push this feeling into the back of her mind as she opened the door and made her way into the RV. She looked around as she shut the RV door behind her and was shocked at how clean it was. Zoey heard cussing coming from the bedroom of the RV and she turned towards the noise to see Ricochet, shirtless, and still wearing his hockey mask, stitching up a bullet wound that was on the lower-left side of the stomach. On top of that, Zoey saw that he had already stitched up the spot on his left forearm, where he had stopped a pocket knife, while protecting her during their first meeting. This then led to Zoey’s eyes shifting up to his bulging and veiny biceps, then his horseshoe shaped triceps and then his ripped back that was so shredded that she could see the individual muscles that made up the region. The only two things that disappointed her were that from the angle that she was looking from, she couldn’t catch glimpse of his chest that she could only imagine looked like it was carved out of granite and that she would most likely never get a look at his face because of the hockey mask which he never took off. Well, there was a third thing…but the only disappointment it brought was to Zoey to, herself, for having such a vulgar and thirsty thought. Ricochet still seemed unaware of her ogling because he had headphones in, most likely listening to music to make the process less painful. This helped Zoey understand why he didn't hear her knocking on the door. Zoey found herself almost drooling at the sight in front of her.
Oh, fuck me, he's hot, she thought to herself, feeling her own face get red from blushing. How in the actual fuck is his body so perfect?! Not going to lie, even if he didn’t take the stupid hockey mask off, I wouldn’t mind letting him…
Zoey patted her cheeks a couple of times to stop the blushing and to force the lewd thoughts from continuing to enter her mind since she believed they were only going to keep getting worse and more sexual. Once she got a hold of her horniness, she began looking at Ricochet’s back, again, this time taking note of all of the different scars on it. Some looked like deep cuts while others seemed like stitched up bullet wounds. It made her question how many fights he had been in but this thought was interrupted by Ricochet cursing once again after messing up his stitching. She squinted her eye to get a better look at how he was stitching up the wound on his lower-left stomach and realized he wasn't doing the best job with it. Actually, when she looked at the other areas that he had stitched up by himself, she couldn’t help but notice that all of them looked like they done, incorrectly.
"You know, if the roles were reversed, you would probably call me a pervert and kick me through a wall or some shit," said Ricochet as he took one of the headphones out of his ears.
The redness in Zoey's cheeks returned with a fiery vengeance from being caught and spun around so Ricochet couldn't see this and folded her arms across her chest in disgust with herself.
"H-How did you hear me?" asked Zoey, still recovering from her embarrassment.
"I didn't really hear you. I just sensed you were there, looking at me. How was your bath? The lake is pretty nice, isn't it?"
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"Y-Yes...it was very nice. T-Thank you for pointing it out to me."
"Don't mention it. Is there something you needed from me?" questioned Ricochet as he craned his neck to look at her through his hockey mask.
Feeling the redness in her cheeks go away, Zoey decided to turn back around to face Ricochet. Zoey struggled to think of a response and didn't want to admit that she was worried about him which only made her come off as even more of a tsundere.
W-Well...I...uh...oh!"
Zoey pulled out the syringe from her pocket that she had found outside.
"I-I saw this lying on the ground outside and didn't know if you had lost it...I thought...I would give it back, just in case. Oh, and I-I'm not judging you in any way...whatever kind of stuff you put into your body isn't any of my business."
Ricochet chuckled, softly, to himself.
"I appreciate the thought but I have plenty of those things with me, and, to put your mind at ease, I'm not a druggie," explained Ricochet. "I just take some...supplements that make me a tad stronger and more focused."
"L-Like steroids?" Zoey responded, bluntly.
"Yeah, I guess that's one way to put it. It's kind of a nasty habit I've picked up since high school. I was planning on quitting but...given the circumstances of the world...I decided to keep using the stuff. I need all the strength and focus I can get, if I want to kill the person I'm after. Yeah, it'll shorten my life for sure and it does have its' nasty side effects but I don't really fucking care. I don't plan on living for too long, anyways. As long as I can do what I need to before I die...that's all that matters to me."
"O-Oh, that's...kind of depressing."
"Is there anything else you need because I’m already having a hell of a time stitching up this damn wound? I got the bullet out which is always the easy part but as you can tell from my fucked-up scarring, I’m not too good with the stitching process. Guess I should have learned to fucking knit when I was younger.”
"Y-Yeah...about that...I...have some experience with stitching up wounds...from my time in the army," Zoey explained, awkwardly.
"Shit, were you a busty field medic or something? At least, the guys you were patching up had a nice view while they were on the verge of death. Probably, thought you were an angel...in the form of an anime waifu with big mommy milkers.”
In response to this, Zoey made a face of annoyance like only a true tsundere could.
"N-No, I had a friend, who was. She taught me how to stitch up my own wounds."
"Well, that’s a pretty useful skill you’ve got there for someone, who always thinks of themselves as useless. I won’t force you to or anything but if you want to help me stitch this wound up, I’d appreciate it.”
Zoey’s face turned red at Ricochet’s compliment, in conjunction with the idea of not only being able to see the front of Ricochet’s attractive body but to even get the chance to touch it.
“S-Since I’m so nice, I’ll go ahead and take a look at it, even after all the comments about my tits.”
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"Alright, that should do it," said Zoey as she finished stitching up Ricochet's wound while, simultaneously, enjoying every second of getting the chance to look at Ricochet’s perfectly defined chest and six pack. "I would take it easy for—"
"I don't have time for that," interrupted Ricochet as he got up and headed towards the kitchen of the RV.
Zoey sighed to herself, realizing it was pointless to argue with him and put the needle and thread on the dresser that was inside of the bedroom, before following Ricochet into the kitchen area.
"Hm, it looks a hell of a lot better than when I try to do it myself," concluded Ricochet as he took a second to inspect Zoey's work.
"I'll take that as your version of a 'thank you'," mumbled Zoey to herself, annoyed.
"Take it how you want."
Ricochet sat at a table that was used for dining but instead of food, there was a large map of Virginia on it. As Zoey got closer, she saw that there was a star on the map, near Fairfax.
"What's up with the star?"
Ricochet debated whether or not he wanted to engage in conversation and figured Zoey would just keep bothering him if he tried to ignore her.
"That's where I'm headed, next. I got some information on a group that resides in a hospital in Fairfax. They call themselves ‘The Flames’ and, apparently, they have some kind of connection with the person that I’m trying to kill. To be honest, I'll probably be saying goodbye to the RV park and headed that way in a couple of days."
Zoey frowned.
"A couple of days?" she complained. "When the hell were you going to tell me about this?"
"Probably like a day before. Why does it matter?"
"I'll have you know that I kind of like the homey vibe that this RV park gives off."
"In that case, you're free to stay here and make it your permanent home, if you want? Hell, you can even use the space in my RV since I won't be coming back."
Zoey grumbled to herself as Ricochet continued studying the map of Virginia.
"Fine, I guess I'll be tagging along then, even if I'm not a fan of the idea," decided Zoey, crossing her arms across her chest. "It beats staying here by myself without anybody else. Plus, the idea of you trying to stich up your own wounds from now on makes me shudder because of how garbage you are at it."
"Suit yourself," said Ricochet. "Just try to take it easy these next couple of days because we have one hell of a walk coming if we want to make it to Fairfax in decent time. Oh, and one more thing. These Flames...I don't know shit about them...but the guy, who told me about them, mentioned they were pretty militarized. This isn't going to be like dealing with those jackasses who attacked us, today. They're a hell of a lot more dangerous. Sure you still want to tag along?"
This news did make Zoey hesitate for a second but she shook her head of all of the second-guessing thoughts.
"I'm going and that's final. No matter how dangerous, I'm assuming you aren't going to let them prevent you from killing the person you're after, isn't that right?"
Ricochet nodded his head in agreement.
"I definitely don't plan on dying to them...can't die until my job is done."
"See, then I have nothing to worry about," foolishly claimed Zoey.
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Meanwhile, in an abandoned apartment store located in Washington D.C., a small girl was hiding inside of a closet, terrified of the men, who were outside, wandering around the store. The closet door was cracked so she could vaguely see them walking by and around the area. She tried her best to breathe as quietly as she could but every time, she heard one of them speak, she got even more nervous.
"Aye, go and check that closet over there," said one of the men, causing the small girl to immediately panic. "There might be something useful in there."
Before the girl could think of something to do in response, the closet door swung open and she was face to face with one of the men, who was in the department store. The man smiled at her, sinisterly.
"Hey boys, I found a nice little snack for us," he said, licking his lips.
Author's Note: Hello, thank you for reading this chapter! I hope you enjoyed getting a glimpse into Zoey's past and getting to see a little more of her and Ricochet's back and forth dynamic which is always enjoyable for me to write. I definitely plan on addressing more of her backstory in future chapters since I really do want to make Zoey a fleshed out and likable character. Busty girls in anime have a tendency to be a bit one dimensional and I really do want Zoey to stand out, in comparison so, hopefully, by the end of this series, I can accomplish that.
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