Post Apocalypse (Onica & Survivor00)

It had been two years sense what was just know as "The Virus" wiped out most of the world's human population. Those that where left found that every day things had become worth more the money. Food, clean water, power...fuel...all starting to become harder and harder to find in this now ruin world.

Cities, towns laid in waste, military equipment laid rusted in the streets...after falling to ether the virus themselves or the people that took over the lands.

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Onica walked the streets of what used to be a large city. Her goal...to find anything she could use during the cold winter months ahead. After all the air was already starting to become chilled and the trees loosing there leafs already.

Truth be told there was not much left, gas tanks had been sucked dry and most of the buildings stripped clean on anything that could be used. It seemed that the everyone that was living here was gone. She had not seen another living human in months it seemed, the ones she did run into did not stay around for long.

The 'Virus'.

No one knows where it came from. And nobody seems to care.

In her travels, she had heard everything from Chinese birth control, to American bioweapon, to microbes brought back from Mars.

All that mattered was, in the four months from when it had first reared its ugly head, it had killed over 6 billion people. No one was spared from its wrath. The young, the fit, the elderly. It didn't target a specific group - you got sick, you died. Sometimes, the virus ravaged the body so fast, that someone who was infected that morning would be a bloated, disease-ridden corpse before they left work.

Civilization imploded practically overnight. What could you do when nearly the entire government died within days? Everyone was afraid to leave their homes. Stocks crashed, riots, martial law. Nuclear plants belched their poisons into the air as their reactors melted down. Oil tankers, set adrift after their crew died mid-voyage, sank in rough seas or beached themselves, pouring millions of gallons of crude into the seas.

Some countries fought until their armies literally crumbled under the siege of the virus. With no soldiers left to fight for them, some countries did the unthinkable. North Korea launched a thermonuclear crusade against its neighbor to the South. Israel was turned into a glowing smudge on the map. China and Russia incinerated each other over territory and resource spats... Saudi Arabia lashed out to protect the oil fields still sucking up the last drops their wells had to offer - as though oil would soon matter.

It was an anarchist's wet dream.

Lawlessness swept the land, as the few survivors abandoned their moral high horses, pulling every dirty trick they knew. The chaos that erupted after the virus had burn out probably killed almost half of those immune from the disease. It was also this violence that probably saved the other half. Banding together to protect themselves, they formed the first communities after the 'End'.

Of course, in the two years that followed, it didn't take long for the crazies to start flying their true colors. 'Cults' formed all over, from the small, one-man "Last Man on Earth' types, mid-sized clusters of Raiders, to groups a couple hundred strong, such as the 'Daughters of Amazon', a bunch of headstrong super-feminists, who tracked down and killed every man they could find, as retribution for what they did to 'Mother Earth'. There were some that even burned off a breast, so they might embrace the tradition of the Amazons. (Although there was no confirmed knowledge that the real Amazons actually did so.)

The rest were left to fight over the scraps - what little was left - like wild animals. She had killed, yes, to survive. She had eaten human flesh when she was starving, she had even offered her body the first winter, to keep a roof over her head, and a blanket wrapped around her. Any pretense of morality or taboo that the Old World had once held no longer applied. If you wanted to survive, you did what you had to do.

She didn't bother stopping at the already-decaying Service Station that she passed, knowing that the pumps had been dry for two years. Most of them were dry even before things went to shit - people having flocked to the gas stations, stockpiling on food and supplies. Most of the times, cities were just skeletons, picked clean of everything, just leaving the bones behind. But sometimes, sometimes, they missed something. And right now, with winter approaching, anything could help her last through the coming months.

The streets were packed with abandoned vehicles, left there when the owners dies behind the wheel, or the engines died on them, making a maze she had to wind her way through to get anywhere. The buildings were, more or less, abandoned husks, looking down on her with empty windows. Shattered glass crunched beneath her boots, as she kept her eyes moving, looking for anything out of place, anything that might show she wasn't the only one here...

Onica knew where she was heading, it had taken her long enough to get back this far from where she had been stuck at for the past year. Trying her best to make it back to the place she had called home for so many years...a place that most forgot about because well...they thought there was nothing of real use there anymore. Or at less that's what she hoped.

She just had to get passed this city and take the interstate north. Then the third exit....the base still had to be there. With all its mountains and hills and buildings built into the side of them and under them. Funny most would have never taken this 21 year old woman to have been in the military...but she had been. Before everything fell into the anarchist grasp as the world turned into a living hell.

Onica was not the strongest or fastest, but she was smart and had found that the most useful thing of all. Using things that no one would have thought about using, eating things that most people thought would kill them. Standing at only five foot three inches, maybe about 107 pounds wet. Her earth colored hair now long and down to her shoulder blades, with hazel eyes that still held some kinda soul in them. She was dressed light, wearing some old military paints and a black t-shirt with the sleeve cut off...a pair of boots on her feet. Unlike others that thought they had to wear armor to keep safe....and she had an aim like no other. Why? She lived by the motto "One shot, One Kill." After all thats all you needed to keep yourself alive. Armed with only a rifle and a two boot knifes, she had stayed alive on her own. Most would laugh in her face if they found out she had not had sex sense before the virus hit.

"Please still be there...don't make my trip worth nothing," If only most knew what she did about military bases...they would have been taken over a long time ago. After all military bases where built still work even if they where cut off. That met fresh underground water that could still be pumped, gas stations that could not be used unless you had a key and a code to pump....maybe even food if she was lucky.

She did not watch the streets for other people, not really caring...not in tell she hooked she self up first. Little did she know she was not alone of the city streets.

Asiya took a rest, slouching down against the side of a car, feeling the cool metal pressing against her back, even though her layers. She reached up to gingerly brush the ragged scar that cut up the side of her face like an ugly canyon. Her eye had been utterly destroyed by it, and she wore a crude eye patch to cover up the horrendous flaw. Even in a world where appearances meant nothing, it still made her feel self conscious... and afraid. She had no depth perception anymore. It had taken her moths to just be able to walk without bumping into things, or the horrendous nausea it caused.

Looking down at her feet, she dreaded to take off her boots, expecting to find that her aching feet were just shapeless masses of flesh and bone, pounded out of shape by miles and miles of walking.

She reached over for the ratty backpack that she held her meager amount of supplies in, tugging a crumpled plastic bottle from a pouch. Unscrewing it, she brought it to her lips and took a quick swig. The whiskey burned on its way down her throat, splashing into her stomach like liquid embers. Alcohol lasted longer than water without going bad - and served as a make-due disinfectant, if she needed it. Sure, it tasted like piss, but it was better than dying of thirst. She'd gotten so used to it by now that she didn't even get buzzed from that swig. Which was good, she didn't need her senses clouded.

Asiya returned the cap to the bottle, and slipped it back into the pouch. The shotgun she had resting across her lap was one of the few comforts she had left. It was faithful - unlike some of the people who had promised to be so. It had never let her down. And it made people wary when they approached. A Mossberg 590 - military grade shotgun. She'd found it a what had once been a Humvee, although the vehicle was so shot up, it would never move again. Shotgun shells were...still sort of easy to find, but the stopping power behind them meant she could take out whatever she needed.

She paused, hearing a voice muttering in the expanse. That fact alone was once one that made her weep - the cities were so empty that you could hear a single person. She swept the shotgun up, slinging the backpack over her shoulder, and crouching behind the car. She was no Marine, nor a soldier. Asiya had been an EMT before the virus. She had seen to heart of the spreading infection. But two years of trying to survive had honed her senses into survival skills. She swept her eyes over the lines of abandoned cars, looking for the source of the voice.

The rifle was the first thing to come off her back, putting the but of the rifle into the ball of her shoulder as she looked around the street. Not because she heard something, just because she was taught a long time ago to clear an area before going deep into it. It was the was she shot that she had learned ofter the years, after all 5 5 6 rounds where hard to come by. One shot One killed...and at as far away as she could get.

Moving slowly threw the streets and going as far as to slowly clime onto of a old car to try and see where she had to go to get out of the city limits. Rifle still held pointed out, finger off the trigger but a round in the chamber. After all she never knew when someone was going to try and shoot at her first.

Normally the first shot was never her's, even if she kept the rifle aimed at someone...she would rather try and talk things out before having to harm another person. After all, live people where starting to hard to find.

She looked around, seeing the way she needed and no one in her line of sight she lowered her gun. Taking a deep breath as she took a seat on the top of the car, removing a canteen from her own back pack. It was water, but only because she got it after it rained a few days ago. Fresh water after all was hard to find in the city. A corked bottle of good wine her back up if she needed it, something she had gotten from a small farm a few days away from this town.

"Maybe a day...day and a half away." Trying to remind herself that this trip of her's was almost don.