Apocalypse Girl began our tale, with the party in the hotel, the flight from the city with Valet, his subsequent infection and grisly demise, our escape from the chemist with accompanying background music everything else leading up to our arrival at the commune, after which Archer took over. We took turns telling our stories until The Kid told of his own infection and unexpected survival and side effects. Biker stared wide-eyed at him for the rest of the evening. I ended our tale with the bandits from the prison arriving, threatening us and then attacking. I thought it best not to tell her of the tainted food we had left behind, she was scared enough of The Kid as it was.
Apocalypse Girl asked me privately what I thought of Biker's story. I replied that I thought she had been through a fucking rough time, if her story was true, and that she was clearly quick-witted. I think actually she will be a valuable companion to have. I haven't told Apocalypse Girl that exactly, she seems a little distrustful of Biker, and I don't really blame her at all. Anyway, if Biker works out well, then good. If not...well, if not...we can deal with that too.
We decided that we would keep a watch, even though nobody could see more than two feet in front of them after the sun, what we could see of it, had fallen beneath the horizon. The Kid took first watch, with The Twin. Junior and Butcher were second, Archer and Apocalypse Girl were next, leaving me on last watch with the new girl, Biker.
January 16th Year 1 A.Z.
pre-dawn
Apocalypse Girl woke me for my watch, as Archer woke Biker. We sat atop the Valiant, Biker facing behind us, I was watching the road ahead. Or at least I was watching the darkness that contained the road ahead.
“So,” Biker quietly began from behind me, “I escaped from a group of violent, psychotic rapists to hook up with what? A group of wandering stoners with home-made bows and arrows?” She chuckled somewhat. “What the fuck, though, you've survived longer than they did!”
“Was it really that bad there?” I asked her.
“Being passed around from one fuckwit to the next just because of what's between my legs? Being told that my only useful skills were in the kitchen and the bedroom?” She was getting angry. “No, I am fucking glad to be out of that shit pit. Us women were always kept together, not all of us at once, you understand, just those of us that weren't being used at the time. The Abbott, that's what they called him, he was fucking crazy. 'Women are only good for cooking and breeding' was always his motto, even before everything went all fucked up. I knew him back then, you see. Not well, I just knew a couple of people from his church. That was where we went, you see. That's where it was safe. Until we ran out of food, and one little old lady died late one night. No idea how, probably just old age, but fuck...after she died, she got back up and started ripping people apart. 90 years old and still had her own teeth, that's something to be proud of, sure, but for fuck's sake!” She took a deep breath to steady herself, then continued in a calmer, quieter tone. “Then a whole lot of us ran for the front door, The Abbott included. There were Dead out there, too, of course, but after a few days they wandered off, doing their own thing, whatever that might be. Anyway the point is, there weren't many nearby, so we just took off. That night The Abbott decided on the different roles people would play in his new world. We moved out of the town, and into the woods, but another mob of Dead found us. Anyway, a whole heap of women died that night. The next day The Abbott made up the 'protection' bullshit. At first it wasn't too bad, but the way this world is now...it turns people into fucking animals, it really does.”
“Well, look, I can't speak for The Abbott, but in this group everybody pitches in with everything. We have extra bows, we can teach you how to shoot, so you can protect yourself, as well as the rest of us. That's the only thing we expect, really. Pull your own weight, help the group when it is necessary and don't fuck us over.” I told her. She agreed that those rules seemed more than fair.
The sun was rising. At least I assume that's what was going on behind the clouds, as to the east the horizon began to brighten, and light up the sky, like a torch through cotton wool. Except the cotton wool was dark grey and bubbling unhealthily. Here and there above the roiling clouds lightning flashed, lighting up patches of darker grey.
Apocalypse Girl exited the Valiant and stretched her arms and back. The Twin followed shortly after. Everybody gathered around as Butcher prepared our breakfast. It was nearly time to slaughter our second sheep. Biker devoured the meat with relish. It was clear that before she met us it had been awhile since her last decent meal.
As we ate we discussed our options. Biker pointed out around a mouthful of food that everything nearby had been stripped of anything of value, so there was no point hanging around. Archer found a roadmap, located our approximate position, and divulged that if we followed the side road we were now on that we should come to a small town in a few hours, depending on the state of the road, and the weather. We figured that a small town might not have had quite the same numbers of Dead wandering around, so therefore it was worth at the very least checking it out. We finished our meals, then hopped into our vehicles and continued down the road. The curious thing was, the further down the road we travelled, the darker the day got.
noon (I think)
Both cars clocks are saying it's twelve o'clock, but fuck me if it doesn't look more like midnight rather than midday. What was really fucking bizarre was the fact that we could see as though it was fully lit. We found the town easily enough, and sure enough there were no Dead there at all. Nothing Living either. In fact there were barely any buildings standing at all. We found an old run-down church with no doors, and a two storey house in relatively good shape. The rest of the town was nothing but ruins, a part of a wall here, a toilet free-standing over there out in the open. The building across the street from the two storey house had clearly been burned down.
We decided to check out first the church, then the house. The church was clear, nothing there at all. No pews, no bible, certainly no priest. On the wall behind where the altar wasn't any longer, the word 'repent' smeared in what looked like fresh blood, but when Butcher examined it up close, he said it was not just dry, but at least a few years old.
The house was in better repair, yet the interior had been completely gutted. Holes separated rooms from one another, though the door frame, door included, still stood. It looked as though titans had wrestled through the entire ground floor, and when we discovered the stairs, only the smallest among us, Apocalypse Girl, dared investigate further. She was up for less than a minute, saying that nothing was there.
On a hunch I went outside. I investigated the back yard, and found what looked to be a burial cairn. On a large flat stone at the top, where the head should be, someone had carved a name. Tommy. Beneath this lay, still in its scabbard, a beautiful katana. I picked up the sword and drew it smoothly. The blade shone in the darkness. The initials S.P. were embossed on the hilt. I took a couple of practice swings, then sheathed the sword.
I turned to leave, then thought better of it. Turning back to Tommy's cairn, I bowed reverently, thanking Tommy for this gift. Honestly, normally I would never bother with this sort of thing, but my views on life, death, Death, and everything that went along with it had changed rather dramatically over the last couple of weeks.
evening
We holed up in the house overnight, as at least it could be sealed against any Dead visitors. Everybody wanted to have a look at the sword that I found, Apocalypse Girl even going so far as to suggest that Tommy had left it there for me for a reason. Perhaps that was so, perhaps it wasn't, either way we now had a very powerful tool to use against the Dead.
Junior tripped over a hole in the floor, and on a closer look and Butcher and Junior tearing up that part of the floor, we found that it was in fact a tunnel leading downwards into the earth. The Kid jumped down, and the instant he took a careful step to one side, a spear shot out of the wall next to him. If he had been moving at normal speed this spear would have torn through his throat, killing him instantly. He immediately leaped back.
This triggered a blade that sliced outwards and down. Had The Kid approached this trap from the other direction it would have sliced him neatly in half. We heard some clicking sounds a few seconds later as the traps reset themselves. Junior helped The Kid out of the tunnel, and we decided that no matter how fascinating it might be, there was no way those were the only two traps.
We were safe in this house, that much was certain, but there was no way we could survive in this place without ready access to supplies and water. Besides that, not a one of us wanted to remain in this strange, deserted place any longer than necessary. The Kid, no longer feeling the need to sleep much, decided to wander around a little, keep his eyes out for any Dead that might be coming our way.
Apocalypse Girl wondered, as did I, exactly who S.P. had been, and for that matter, who was Tommy, with his cairn in the backyard? What had happened to this town? It looked as if every building around had been demolished by an angry mob armed with sledgehammers. More than one place had been burnt to the ground, as well. The streets of the town, not that it had more than four or five of those, were all in relatively good shape, however, despite the years of neglect.
Archer looked again at his roadmap, and discovered that it was nearly forty years old. A more recent map would probably not have even recognised the existence of this place. Ghost towns very rarely made mention on any maps.
Tomorrow, with any luck, we'll find some more fuel for the cars. There was likely to be a service station around somewhere nearby. At least we have the sword now, that'll come in handy for sure.
Something had come to my attention, and I brought it up this evening, as we smoked after we had finished dinner. The climate seemed to be changing. We seemed to be experiencing a comfortably cool couple of days. The temperature seemed appropriate for an Australian summer's night, sure enough, but it remained constant through the day as well. I was willing to bet that if we had access to a thermometer it would confirm my suspicions. The others had noticed this also, and we wondered what other effects we might be experiencing over the coming weeks, or months.
January 17th Year 1 A.Z.
morning
We took the opportunity of relative safety to get a good sleep in while The Kid went scouting. The sun, behind thick grey clouds, did nothing to dispel the gloom surrounding the town. Butcher took a closer look at the tunnel we discovered last night, carefully placing himself between the two traps of which we were aware. Shining the beam of a torch this way and that he hopped back up, saying that there were obviously many more traps down there, probably spaced apart every couple of metres. We decided against any closer investigation, and Butcher went on to slaughter the second of our four sheep. Apocalypse Girl and Biker chatted out in the street together, while The Twin and Archer patrolled the area for any stray Dead. I drew my new katana and inspected the blade. I could feel the lives this sword had taken over the years. Whoever S.P. had been, he took care of his weapons. Archer had estimated that this town had been abandoned at least two decades ago, maybe more. I took a few swings at an imaginary foe. Yep, I could see myself carving through thousands of the Dead with this!
After a while, with the sheep dead, roasting over an open fire, The Kid returned. He let us know that he had found a truck stop a short way out of town, that had clearly seen better days. He reported that there was definitely still petrol in the tanks, the pumps were not only still functional but actually still turned on, and there were several empty cans we could fill with petrol for emergencies. He was starting to look very thin and pale indeed now. Butcher offered him some mutton, which he refused. Instead, he walked off in the direction of the truck stop, saying that he would fill up some empty cans for us. The moment he was out of earshot Biker asked what was up with him. The expression of horror on her face grew as we told her of his bite and subsequent infection. She clearly disbelieved us when we told her that he had recovered from it, more so when his ability to spread contagion had been revealed, and the horror returned once more upon learning that he had neither ate nor drank, urinated nor defecated, in a week. The fact that the Dead think of him as one of their own we kept to ourselves for now. No point in scaring the poor girl unnecessarily!