The thirty-day monitoring period was finally over. I was soon to be a free man! I was stuck on base the whole time. However, I had been scheduled for a training session I was not able to avoid. This was not a martial training event but one of those corporate type events that you sit in a room with a projector screen and try not to fall asleep in.

I was lucky to have avoided most of these due to deployment or injury. Alas, not today I was stuck. No lucky escape for me.

During my confinement, the phycological tests I had taken came in. I was informed that this zone or the creatures in had affected me with a passive threat. With undead, we had Grave Chill as we called it but with these new creatures, it was a heightened state of paranoia. No cool name yet but I was working on it. Of course, the usual zone mind effects kicked in by the end of the first day in force.

It was not pleasant to be around both zone effect and this new one. Hell thinking about it I doubt that any of us Zone Operatives are pleasant to be around after a mission. Depression and paranoia were not a good mix. Drugs will not work on these effects caused in a zone so they had me covertly under suicide watch for the first week. But I had started to improve and was “fine” but day twenty. I was under a phycological hold order basically. So, I got sectioned basically. Go me!

I will not lie that the first week was rough and there seemed no end to it. The black cloud of depression clung and was on exaggerating the paranoia screaming through my mind. I was also a lot angrier at times. Rage exploding at the littlest thing. That week was bad really bad. Thankfully I did not go down the suicidal mindset route. This I was grateful for. That was one place I did not what to visit.

I did get through it and now I am looking to be home by the end of the day. Before I leave, I have to pop into the armoury section of the base a see Lou. Oh, and attend that training course.

I am dressed and fed a good half an hour before the appointed time. I haven’t bothered to shave in the last month so I have a bit of a beard. They would have watched me in case I did anything drastic I grab my bag and head out of the medical building. On the way out I say goodbye to a few of the regular staff I know.

The running joke between all Operatives and the medical staff is that they will see each other again soon. We have a section of the building dedicated to us. This is where we are treated for injuries both physical and mental. It is also the place where the bulk of the testing we go through is done. Finally, there is a morgue here for the bodies that can be retrieved. So, the classic dark humour of us British are used to hide the fact that no matter in what condition the staff will always see us again.

I leave the building and find Sergeant Gregson waiting outside. It is a very mild day and the sun is a lot warmer than normal. I cannot begrudge any man or woman for enjoying it. He sees me as I head toward him.

“No, you cannot get out of the training seminar.” He starts.

I smile at this and answer.

“That has been made abundantly clear to me. What I was acutely going to say is that Lou has asked me to drop in and see him after the seminar.”

He nods at this.

“I have a seminar and briefing as well to attend. I will meet you next to the oak tree in front of the school after.”

“No problem.”

We walk together through the base to the building where the bulk of the none physical training happens. We all mockingly call it the “school” as that is what it was. The Zone Com was originally an RAF base that has been massively expanded and refitted. The Government after decades of cuts to the armed forces numbers were caught out when the zones appeared. It turns out that numbers were vastly more important than technology at the moment. As all the new fancy tech did not work in a zone. The nation was lucky the zones that appeared here were at first not as aggressive as in other countries.

This allowed the Government to identify and contain their locations. The military is having a lot of effort put into recruitment but they are still stretched badly. The new support personnel I saw during the last mission was one sign. They were being called The Zone Territorial Guard. They were only called up to deal with zones and were treated as part of the Territorial Army. Some were going close to full time.

The National economy was recovered from the chaos of the emergence of the zones across the world. It was still not as strong as many would like. Government spending has been a major factor in restarting the economy. The National debt was increasing to American levels but it seems that a few days ago most of the world’s countries had signed a debt reorganisation treaty.

The world has every nation holding and being in debt to each other. Many call this the global debt web. Well, these countries have swapped different amounts of this debt around and used it to wipe out a lot of the global debt their nations owe.

This has been dominating the news for the last few days. Many are heralding it as a major boost to the long-term global economy. Now I don’t understand the factors involved but if you owe a guy £30 and he owes you £40 saying quits to the £30 and waiting for the tenner to be paid back was more logical. Many countries’ national debts were projected to be lessened massively over the next few months. But, hey I am not an economic mastermind so what do I know.

We arrived at the school and entered. Our IDs were checked and we were directed to different parts of the building. I found my way to the room assigned to the Zone Operatives.

The door was open and I walked straight in. The room had several rows of chairs facing a projector screen. Several people already in it spread around. Like any human group, we Zone Operatives had developed an informal hieratical structure for our lost fellowship. Hey, those old YouTube videos I have been watching have been paying off. Technically we were all equals but there were clear lines in this room.

The Newbs or Newbies sat at the front they are the easiest to spot wide-eyed and unsure. The gamer term has been given their name. The Government now partners them with more experienced Operatives for their first three missions. This has dropped the casualty rate amongst them massively. Two men and a woman sit at the front.

In the centre rows were the Regs or regulars these boys and girls went into zones alone most of the time. They were experienced and knew the score. They made up the bulk of the room and were also spread out but were talking amongst themselves.

At the back were the Vets or Veterans. Only one person sat in the back row. An Operative I had seen before. I am terrible with names but good with faces. To sit there you had to have at least twelve solo zone missions under your belt.

When I had entered the room, the majority had turned to me and sized me up. I did not recognise any other the others. I avoid these things as often as I can. So, me being me I plunked myself down in the back row.

This caused a lot of different looks to be passed between the Regs in the room. One of them got up and swaggered towards me. He was in his early twenties slightly younger than me. He had black hair and was well built. The expensive clothes he was wearing were being used to show this off.

God, what a peacock!

“Hey Newb that’s not where you sit.” Alright, this is where we are going. Fun time.

“Yes, it is,” I replied in a monotone voice. Great way to wind his like up. No reaction.

He blinks at this sizing me up. Now as I do not attend these things often as in nearly never, I am not known to a lot of other Zone Operatives by sight let alone name.

“Man, I don’t know you or anyone else so that makes you a Newb here.” His accent was from Kent maybe.

“Well by that logic I know only one person here so that makes you all Newbs to me,” I replied.

Someone sniggered. The peacock in front of me went red. Bullies like him dint like to be challenged let alone laughed at.

“Look Newb get down the front and know your place or I’ll put you in it.” Well, this was escalating fast.

As he was speaking others were entering the room and as my back was to them, I was only aware that they were there.

“Now that will be fun to see!”

I know that voice and turn to see Henry Griffon and three others behind me.

“Shit Man! They roped you in too for this.” I exclaim.

“Well, Harry if you ever show up you would know.” He said laughing.

He walks over and sits next to me. The peacock is clearly confused and then retreats. The others look me over again as I was an unknown quantity to them. Henry openly treating me as an equal had thrown off their original conceptions. Now I could have handled the situation better but there are times I enjoy being a right bastard.

“So, what brings you here?” He asked. The others who were with him went further into the room. Two to the front and one to the middle. It was thanks to Henry that I understood the slang terms we addressed each other with.

“Bad mission got held in in the loony bin until it cleared,” I answered. Being held under a phycological hold order was not a shameful thing for us.

“Yea, bad dives are the worst.” Frowning deeply.

“Dives?”

“New slang for zone missions’ man! Diving into a zone.” He smiled at telling me this. I shake my head at this which only makes his smile wider.

“What’s today’s pep rally on?”

“Monster update dude and some announcements.”

“Joy is me!” Henry laughs at my reaction.

“I heard that there is some new dog-like creature running around a new zone.” He told me.

The rest of the room had quieted down to listen to our conversation. Henry is seen by most as the leader of our band of misfits. So, him talking with me in this way was a big deal. It marked me as a Vet to them as Henry was friendly but only spoke like this to those who have been through the grinder. Plus, any new creature was big news to us.

“Tell me about it got to meet them close up and personal.”

Now Henry looked surprised and turned to face me full on.

“No Shit! How bad are we talking?” The rest of the room wasn’t even hiding their interest now.

“Bad! Fast and aggressive. Come in low to the ground and attack in pairs at least. Good at jumping.” Henry listened frowning again.

“Ran into two types. The first was bad but the second was a lot worse. I recovered a body of the second type.”

“What’s so bad about the second?” He asked.

“They spit flaming blue shit at you!” I answered.

He looks to see if I am joking for a moment. Realising I wasn’t he began swearing quite creatively. The rest of the room was equally unhappy at this statement. It was then that the instructors arrived and called us to order.