Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Scorched Earth (Mercutio17 and Skelace)

M

Mercutio17

Planetoid
Joined
Feb 8, 2010
A thin ray of light found its way through the ruined roof of the shed. With a groan, Alexander rolled to one side, trying hard to avoid the dawn that let him know that another day in hell had begun. Within minutes enough light flooded his temporary shelter that he was forced to wake up. Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and peeked out the door onto the empty suburban street.

It was unusually cloudless today, he noticed, stepping outside into the cool dawn, wrapping what used to be a shirt, now serving as a scarf across his face. He put on his small backpack, buckled it to his waist and chest, and headed out slowly into the street. Normally he would have eaten a bit before heading out in the morning, but he had not found food yet. Alexander had been on the road for weeks, and only just arrived in this little borough before dusk the night before. Having high hopes and a rumbling stomach, he held his switchblade in his hand and hiked up the street, sizing up the surroundings.

It had been about a month since Alexander had seen another human, and he wasn't sure what to expect here. From his experience sometimes these little towns were treasure troves when it came to scavenging, while other times they were already completely cleaned out by others. The most dangerous possibility of course, was that there were any gangs of marauders living out of any one of these houses. While most people seemed to scavenge only from the ruins and from the dead, like Alexander did, there were always going to be those willing to take what they needed from the living. It was for that reason that Alexander carried a knife, however little protection it offered.

Spotting what looked like it may have once been an attractive little house, Alexander made a lap of the yard, checking it for any signs of life. Satisfied that he had not seen any, he carefully crept in the back door, allowing the morning sun to light to room as the door slid open.
 
As the sun rose in the pale blue sky Deston knew he had a very few moments to get out of the camp. These people were not to be messed with and very few survived meetings with a group so large. They preyed on the helpless and the witless as if they were cattle for the slaughter.

Well Deston did not believe himself to be like these people though he was stealing from them. The way he saw it was that he was stealing stolen goods which made him a sheriff with a rather nice bonus pay. He fought to contain a giggle that would have erupted up from the thought. Him a sheriff? That would have been the most ridiculous town ever to be protected.

Well the now it was time to head out. He made off well from this band and would not be to kind if they were to awake and discover him. He held his bags as close to his small body as he could, while rushing to beat the sunlight. He had almost made it out of the building when he heard someone began to move behind him. Startled he jumped.

He was safe apparently as the man still laid there. Deston turned around began taking one last step towards the door, when his foot landed on a metal bottle sending him sliding across the floor then crashing down upon the ground. It was the loudest crash He had made his entire life. The entire room seemed to awake in an uproar, as the gang awoke to the thief.

"Oh... uh hi guys, well I'd better be going." He sprang to his feet rushing out the door as nearly twenty men grabbed their weapons of choice and chased after him. Down the street he ran looking for cover and a place to hide as he had these few moments out of their sites. He saw a man down the street about to enter a house. He concluded his small legs wouldn't be able to carry him that far soon enough. He dodged behind a house throwing himself into a garbage can, just as the gang exploded out of the house.
 
Alexander was still holding the backdoor of the house open and peeking about inside when he heard sounds across the street. Not having time to conceal himself, he saw a figure sprinting out of a house and ducking between two others. Only seconds later, a group of men burst out of the same house.

"Shit...SHIT!" Alexander muttered to himself, twisting his grip on his small knife. The men fanned out onto the street, looking around furiously. Alexander tried to duck around the corner, but was too slow. One of the men shouted, pointing towards him with a baseball bat. With a roar, a number of the men sprinted across the cracked and ruined asphalt. Alexander vaulted the fence behind him and fled into what would have been the adjoining backyard of another house, trying to lose his pursuers. It was of no use however, as the four men vaulted the fence as well and surrounded him on all sides.

"Well look what we got here boys," One of the men laughed, revealing a rotten mouth with only a few teeth remaining. "We go ourselves a thief right here."

"What we gonna do wit 'im?" One of the other men asked, this one armed with a broken table leg.

"I think we oughta string him up and eat 'im....he looks tasty!" The toothless man grinned.

Alexander briefly thought to attempt to reason with the men, but realized there was no point before he even said anything. Instead he flipped open his four inch switchblade, prepared to fight for his life.
 
For a moment Deston thought he had gotten away with only that one hitch. Then he heard them shout about finding someone, and he rattled about in the can for the nail gun he had found only last week. Finding it he aimed it at the lid of the can ready to fill the first face he saw with metal. Yet he heard nothing after that.

He took the chance to peak out the can. "Fuck." He saw them chasing the man that had only been standing there moments ago. Though he didn't know anything about the man he couldn't just let them kill him. He took a moment but eventually got out of the can and chased after the men lining up the gun.

He couldn't shoot them on the run so he just stayed behind them hoping there were no stragglers behind him. The group he followed ended up setting up a circle around the man and who was now in confrontation with four others. It was like a sport to them as they cheered and jeered watching the fight. Deston not being able to hop the fence in his way without making a scene went around finding a spot where the fence was not quite so high.

As he came closer to the group he looked for easy cover to hide from the gang as he would pump them full of nails. The fight was not going well for the poor man they had mistaken for Deston, as they were more or less toying with the man. He hid behind a few crates set there long before they were born. He fired a few shots into the large crowds' legs with one shot to a man's head then hid back behind the crates not daring to come out for world.
 
The men were tightening the circle around Alexander when a faint clicking noise was heard, and within seconds three of the four men were howling in pain and grabbing at their legs. One of the men fell to the ground motionless, but Alexander didn't have time to check what had happened to any of them. The one remaining man, armed with a tire iron, yelled and took a wild swing at Alexander. He ducked a few blows, though one grazed him across the cheek, sending a wave of pain across his face, and sending him stumbling backwards.

The man then moved in for the kill as Alexander cradled his face in pain. With another howl the man moved in for the kill, as Alexander dropped to his knees, thrusting the knife into the man's thigh, twisting it. The man yelled in anger and pain, kneeing Alexander in the face with his good leg, knocking him back again. The man raised the tire iron above his head and brought it down towards Alexander's face again. As he did so, however, Alexander rolled to one side, stood up, and plunged the knife into the man's spine with a sickening sound. The man went silent, his body rigid, and fell to the ground.

Panting, and still holding his left cheek, Alexander held the knife firmly, looking around for who or whatever had happened to his other aggressors.
 
Deston wouldn't dare stick his head out in to see who won the fight. He had no desire to waist the last of his nails if the fight could be avoided. The only reason he used them before was so he didn't feel guilty about getting the man killed. Instead he picked up a rock flung it out to where behind him and the winner of the confrontation.

As he heard the stone drop he quickly jumped up aiming his gun at the man still standing there. Seeing a that the man was not a marauder brought a smile to the little man's otherwise serious face. "Ah well its nice to see you could handle yourself against one." He looked at his battered face and tilted his head sideways, "Even if you did get a little beat up in the process."

The red haired man stuck out one hand while still having the gun pointed at the man to make sure he didn't do something stupid. "Well my name's Deston. It was a pleasure to meet and save your life." He smiled not caring to add the fact that it was he who brought the marauders upon the man in the first place.
 
Alexander's right hand held his swelling right cheek, and he didn't extend it to shake this stranger's hand. "Save my life?" he grumbled, "What do you want? No one goes around saving people's lives around here." Looking at the men laying around on the ground, Alexander walked over to the man he killed, and began to search through his pockets, check his shoes, socks, gloves- anything that may be in better condition than what he currently had.

Alexander unlaced the dead man's shoelaces and put them in his pocket, then looked back up to the red haired man. "The name's Alexander, by the way," he said, "that's the family name at least. Though names are pretty irrelevant as of now I suppose." Alexander stood back up, re-wrapping his scarf across his face to hide his new injury.
 
"Want? What you don't believe in people just being nice nowa days?" Deston shook his head, and casually put down his hand. "Well actually now that I think about it... I could use a little company. You know someone to watch my back and make sure I don't wind up like dead when I sleep." Deston tried to looks as innocent as it was possible in these days.

"And it's a little obvious you could use some help. You just don't know where to find stuff. I mean how smart is it to bring a knife to a fight?" He pointed to where the Alexander's knife had gone into his pocket. "And I seem to know where to find these things... at least a bit better than you." He smiled.

He watched the man picking from the dead and wounded, holding back a laugh. He had already made pretty sure these men didn't have much, before they awoke, his pack bulging with their things. "So what do ya say? You scratch my back and I scratch yours? You don't have anything to loose."
 
Alexander stared at Deston, who was watching him take the shoelaces, a smirk on his face. "I've survived this long because I know how to scavenge. You have your fancy nail gun, but what happens when your shoes fall apart? Wet and cold feet will kill you just as easily as a bandit." He said coolly, standing up.

"And no, I don't believe anyone can just be nice nowadays." Alexander said, pressing his hand again against the hot swollen wound on his left cheek. "Like how I now have a broken cheekbone because I was attacked by men, who for some reason, I get the impression weren't looking for me." He says with a hint of accusation.

Without another word he turned back towards the house he had been about to enter when he was attacked.
 
"Aww come on! Look even if they were after me, I'm not saying they were it just if, they were then doesn't that prove I'm good out here when shit hits the fan?" He started to chase after him. "Hey don't go! Come on just hear me out!"

"I know where to find all sortsa things and it's not gonna be in there! Them guys just cleared it out long ago, the only reason I'm here in fact was to get their stuff." He ran in front of Alexander walking backwards to face him. "Everyone is looking for a buddy out here to watch their back. Why not you huh? You think you can live out here forever on your own?"
 
Alexander stopped to think. This Deston may be right about this house. Alexander hadn't gotten into town until yesterday, so if this Deston had really been around here before he could be right about the men having cleared out the house.

"Fine." He said, devoid of any emotion. "Where should we scavenge then?"

Alexander figured there was no reason not to partner up with this stranger, at least for as long as he was in this town.
 
"Ahh my good friend, we must head to the school's. In these small towns no one looks into the school's first, they will be a little cleared out but there will be plenty left for the two of us. I was going to go there myself today..." He began walking off through from where him and the mauraders had came.

"... had it not been for the that plump little group there. They were just to good to pass up. You ever tried picking stuff off from the maruaders while they sleep? Thats a bit of fun right there that is." Deston just kept talking and talking not even waiting for Alexander to reply, nor was he looking over his shoulder for the man, he just assumed he would fallow.
 
Alexander had not yet seen, much less considered the school that was apparently in town. He had planned to skirt the outside of the former settlement and see what could be taken from each house, then perhaps moving in if he deemed it safe. But with the death of the small marauder band, he felt more comfortable moving about the place- it was rare, if not unheard of, for more than one gang to coexist in the same area.

He followed Deston as they walked towards the decrepit schoolhouse. "No, I can't say I have ever tried to rob the marauders themselves. I generally give them a wide berth when I know they are around." He could hardly imagine it as the "fun" Deston proposed it was, though he was probably right that it was better pickings than was simply scavenging.
 
"Pshhh where's the excitement in life if there are no marauders in your life? Thats like playing Russian Roulette without bullets." Deston waved his hand towards Alexander, "You know life out here can get pretty boring if you don't meet people? Even if the people you do meet are trying to kill you, its still exciting."

As they continued to walk a much larger building arose around the smaller ones near it. "Ahhhh... there she is, a treasure trove waiting to be opened. Do you know how much medicine can be found in this place? You see you just go into the nurses office, and there are boat loads of the stuff. Especially pain killers. Have I ever told you about the time an old buddy of mine stumbled in on some marauders still loopy from the pain killers?"
 
Alexander ignored most of Deston's talking as they approached the school. It seemed to have been built well, as its interior structures still remained. The mention of a nurse's office caught Alexander's ear however. He could use some of the drugs they had there. Not for the hallucinogenic purposes that Deston suggested, but for the obvious medical use and for trading.

As the pair approached the main door to the school, Alexander flipped out his knife. More often than not large doors like these had been left slightly open during the war, and had swelled over the years, making them impossible to move. Alexander had found it best so far to use his knife to remove the hinges, making either side of the door a potential entry.

Reaching the door Alexander set to prying the pins out of each hinge, making sure but slow progress as he pulled them up through the rusted bands, careful not to break the heads off, jamming the rod into the hinge.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top Bottom