EPISODE 1 - ROUTINES
0600
WALSH, ESTEBAN
BARRACKS TRAILER
ALMODAVAR PARK CENTER
Esteban felt that the inclusion of a metal porch and folding gazebo tent outside of the front door of the trailer was a superb move on the part whomever was tasked with setting up the Samael team's lodgings. In total, two trailers had been donated for the team to use: a single living space trailer complete with a kitchen, dining area, and bunkrooms; and a second trailer hooked up to a generator and water system to serve as the combined shower space and latrines. Sitting under the gazebo atop a folding metal chair and nursing a suspicious joint and a blue metal mug of black coffee in the same hand, Esteban silently appreciated the accommodations. The team was primarily, almost overwhelmingly, former military and had surely slept in more spartan conditions. Three hots, cots, and a shower. What more can you ask for?
A light rain descended upon Almodavar that morning, and gray clouds obscured the sun to the degree that the jungle remained dim for the unaided human eye. Calmed by the pitter-patter above him and the low hum of an air conditioning unit behind him, Esteban allowed the joint to work its magic as his eyes lazily gazed upon the rest of Park Center. It was the only spot of civilization around; a collection of paved roads, brick and concrete buildings, cleanly-mowed lawns, and plenty of streetlights casting Park Center under an all-reaching dome of light. The jungle surrounded Park Center, trees and bushes swaying lightly in the rain-flecked wind. The roads were dead, save for a lone pair of headlights passing between the faint partition of palm trees within the park. Esteban made an alternating move of taking a sip of his coffee followed by a puff of his joint, holding the hot as he swallowed the coffee. His throat buckled, chest heavy, and he coughed. His eyes grew a little heavier, but he now turned his gaze to the vehicle.
The flickering of lights in the nearby aid worker barracks diverted Esteban. The majority of the rooms in the old hotel were now illuminated, although Esteban could not see what was happening within. Morning muster? Under the glow of the street lights, figures clad in white rain ponchos soon filed out of the buildings and into the rain. A poorly-cohesive line began to form, leading over to a large wooden gazebo that contained rows of picnic tables. Individual white figures paced around the line; even in the limited visibility of the early morning, Esteban could see clipboards in their hands. A few were passing in and out of the gazebo, moving as if they were corralled a herd of cattle. That's a muster.
The unfolding muster would have appeared routine to Esteban, had the white Tacoma not pulled up in front of the hotel. The white ponchos skirting the line with their clipboards and radios quickly bee-lined to the driver-side door. Esteban took hold of the joint in his free hand and gave it one last puff before crushing it on the ground. The truck had entered the park, from what Esteban had gathered. The apparent group chaperones swarmed it, as if looking for meaning. To Esteban, the situation now bore all the hallmarks of eventually coming their way. With that in mind, the contractor stood up on his feet and entered the trailer.
Only the kitchen light was on; Esteban turned it on earlier to make coffee. The atmosphere was empty, silent. Either the squad had yet to wake up, or they had yet to leave their rooms. The long hallway leading to the rooms sat still and dark with its doors closed. Esteban shuffled into the kitchen, setting the coffee mug down as he rustled his Gore-Tex off. After tossing the jacket onto one of the plastic chairs in the dining area, he turned his attention back to the kitchen. Dirty plastic blue cups and white plates stained with sauce and meat and beans sat in one of the two basins that made up the kitchen sink. The team largely ate together the night before; the first dinner in country for them as a group. Esteban turned on the faucet to the hottest setting and the basin began to gradually fill up. While the water flowed, Esteban took the opportunity to procure a white ceramic bowl and a box of Frosted Flakes, setting them beside of the sink before reaching over to turn off the water.
After fetching his milk and filling up the bowl, Esteban made his way to the table to consume his breakfast. The squad should be waking up soon. From his seat at the table, he peered towards the kitchen window. Esteban could see the headlights from before, and they were drawing closer into view. Esteban scooped up a spoonful of cereal and put it in his mouth; the work day was about to start.
