BAMF!

Lucy began working with the "doctor" that day. She was doing all kinds of disgusting things like pitching out buckets of vomit and cleaning bloody needles. She hated this stuff, she didn't even like watching medical dramas. Blood and guts grossed her out and there were plenty of both to make her nauseous. The only consolation was that Brandon(Doogie) was a really nice kid. He was so eager to do well and he genuinely loved practicing medicine. Not that this was medicine in Lucy's eyes. It was so primitive. Why didn't this kid just go to medical school instead of wasting time with these history weirdos? Lucy also noticed that Brandon was acting kind of funny around her, stealing glances at her breasts and neck. Finally Lucy had to address this issue.

"You keep staring at me and it's awkward."

Brandon blushed "I'm sorry but I have never been around a.." He hushed "lady of the night."

"Oh. Well now you are around one and you can see that I'm not so different from other ladies, right?"

Blush again "Oh no. You are different. You are more like a man than a woman." Ouch?

"Why? How are the ladies you know so different?"

"Well, they would never wear man's clothing for starters. And true ladies stay out of the sun. Tanned skin is the sign of the working class."

Lucy snorted "I am working class and so are you. Not all ladies are upper-class bunnies with pale skin and dainty shoes." Did she really use the word dainty?

The look on Brandon's face was incredulous "Come again?"

"Nevermind. I may be different but I am happy with who I am."

This seemed to passify Brandon so that they could continue to do their work through the day. When night fell upon the land, Lucy wondered about where she would be sleeping and would it be where she could escape from the camp during the night. She was sad to learn that her bed would be the examining table in the medical tent. Scratch that, she chose this over the alternative; Redheaded thug had offered her a place to sleep, next to him in his tent. Absolutely not. She was not going to risk injuring her ribs further just so that some bratty soldier could get into her knickers. And the thought did cross her mind and it was the ribs that made the decision. It had been a long time since Lucy had gotten any. A very long time and being around this many men made it harder than she thought. If she wasn't injured, she probably would have gone super slut with the whole camp. It would improve her mood. Instead Lucy lay on her wooden slab and thought about the past few months of her life. Dan's death, moving in with Buddy, her ability to live put on hold. Maybe hanging around this big group of nerds was exactly what she needed. She needed a real break from the real world. A serious attitude adjustment was in order. Maybe she'd even avoid further contact with that nasty colonel Tavington, she learned his name was William Tavington. Lucy's eyes drifted closed and she was out like a light.

Like a light indeed because as soon as her eyes closed she was being awakened by Brandon.

"We have to pack up. The camp is moving. The colonel has possibly located a group of colonist traitors."

Lucy rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the edge of the table "Good morning to you too."

Brandon frowned "No time for niceties. We have to get moving. The colonel is intolerant of lateness."

Lucy and Brandon packed up the tent and all it's supplies onto a long wagon. The two tables were hauled up and placed on their tops, legs in the air and more stuff was piled on. The soldiers were on their horses, wearing red coats and green feathery hats.

"Green Dragoons. The deadliest of all the King's forces. Led by the Butcher." Brandon told Lucy as he helped her up onto the wagon seat next to himself. As he did this, Colonel Tavington rode beside them on a giant chestnut stallion. His green hat was bigger than the others. He simply glared at Lucy before pulling his horse up to the lead.

"Butcher eh? I can see that."

Brandon laughed uneasily and reined his horses forward, they were off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. Every once in a while, Tavington would slow his horse next to the wagon and stare Lucy down. She kept her eyes downcast and forward much like you would do with an aggressive dog. She noticed that Brandon did the same thing, clearly the men were afraid of Tavington. While he certainly was intimidating, he was still just a fallible man right? Surely he had a conscience and a soul. She inquired about this to Brandon. He told her hushed stories of how Tavington had no qualms about shooting children and burning women alive. Lucy knew this was all just part and parcel of the game and character. Obviously, someone couldn't just murder innocent people and get away with it. Not in this day and age. It was still disturbing in that people thought that deeply into these things and created such monstrous avatars to portray. Lucy no longer felt bad for pretending to be a whore from Florida at this point. It could be worse, she could be playing a psychopath in a bad hat.