Author's Note: Hey, hi.

So, this is kind of new to me.

As a heads-up, anything you see is subject to change. This is my first fan fiction, and any sort of feedback is very much appreciated for the betterment of my writing and the writing of this fic.

I will keep writing this, but whether I post more or not is somewhat up to how its received.

And by that I mean if literally anybody wants more, I'll post more.

Thanks for taking the time to read this and hopefully the rest of this fiction.

Please enjoy.


`~ CHAPTER ZERO: THE BREATHLESS WIND


Late September, I think. I know it's twenty-twelve, still.

The words rang in the figure's mind, as it approached an abandoned gas station at the foot of a hill covered in snow.

Confident strides, the rifle held in both hands swayed left to right, as if a pendulum. With shoddy white netting wrapped around the barrel, the brown and worn body of the rifle was standing out, especially up against the slick white coat front of its wielder. The wielder, face concealed behind a pair of ski goggles, had a scarf up to their nose, thick beanie atop their head with hair tucked away, a pair of cargo pants and a long coat; to say they were prepared for the weather would be an understatement.

As of late, the nearby area, and just about the rest of the world, had been in what you could theoretically call a nuclear winter. For you see, it wasn't just the great US of A in this predicament. Due to the nuclear war that suddenly erupted out in the middle of Europe, everyone was doomed to suffer the same fate as the ones who started all of this.

One of the mentioned bombs landed on the East Coast of the US, to the luck of many on the West Coast. What lays after a certain point is unknown, due to radiation taking its toll on the other side. The size of the bomb, however was very much debatable, due to how far it spread.

It was quite the saddening thought.

It wasn't long before the figure approached the door of the station, in a careful stance, only to regain its posture after making sure all was clear from where they were standing. A glance at the door revealed a rusty padlock, its almost rusted off red paint staring back.

A few strikes with the butt of the rifle at the padlock as it was frozen in time was all it took to void it of its use. A few steps in, the figure shakes off all the snow atop their shoulders.

Could have gone through the window but, the figure shrugs to itself, needless noise.

In a few swift movements, the rifle was slung onto their shoulder and a knife showed its face from its holster on the inside of the coat. Center of gravity lowered, the figure sifted through the station, looking for anyone and anything, knife still ready to spring in their palm.

At this point in time, scavenging was not a rare sight. Then again, neither was murder.

To no surprise, the station yielded very little, a barely not-expired candy bar and some duct tape. The lofty messenger bag sat situated at the figures side was with a few swift movements used to store the two items and the station stood empty soon after.

At the end of a wall of the gas station, the figure looks out, leaning on it slightly.

Winter sure has taken its toll. But it looks much more peaceful than when people frequented the area.

The road in front of the gas station was completely snowed over, showing only a very faint trail of tracks leading up, past the hill. The gas station itself was in a clearing right before the aforementioned hill, only for the trees to later envelope the road as it goes up and over.

The figure regains balance and stands in a brooding fashion when it spots a wolf. A light grey, barely sticking out from the snow behind it, only its piercing eyes to aid in spotting it, it looked towards the station, standing there, observing what had become its territory, only to turn back and walk away from the treeline.

A sigh of relief and a head on a swivel, the figure set out soon after the wolf had departed. Doesn't make sense sticking around after that.

The snow makes it dreadfully hard to keep your tracks covered, but luckily, the steady snowfall helps.

A moment or two later, the figure now stood at the top of the hill. To the left, a sign. Seems like the better part of it has been cut or taken out by something, the rest obscured.

"..ME TO"

"..A BAY", whats left of the sign read.

The figure didn't seem to need it, as the confident strides kept at their pace towards the town, the steps seemingly faster than before.


The embers of a fire ebbed in the air, like flies around a rotting carcass.

The crackling of the fire was all you could hear through out the night, as a group of two sat around a campfire situated in an abandoned apartment complex that was still under construction. The two sat on small seats made of loose brick. Around them, a few bags were situated. Camping out in an unfinished building didn't sound like a good idea, but it had sufficed.

The two of them were tattered and restless, while one seemed nervous, glancing behind his shoulder every so often, towards the main stairs leading up and down each floor.

The other spoke up in a mild tone; "Josh, calm the hell down, you're making me nervous by being nervous. Nothing's gonna happen, were safe for now."

The ma- ahem,Josh looked around once more, his gaze occasionally glancing at his travelling companion, before replying: "You d-don't know that for sure.. You can never know. I-I don't wanna die tonight, okay?" He looked around again, clutching at his shoulders, his right knee bobbing up and down frantically.

"Look, all I'm saying is you need to tone it down a little, okay?" the other replied while placing an opened can of beans on the makeshift grill on top of the fire.

After a while, Josh speaks up. "I-I'm gonna get up a bit." The more feeble framed of the two, he starts getting up. His companion shrugs.

A few steps away, the man, seemingly in his early 20's takes a cigarette out of the battered container he procured from his pockets, along with a lighter.

Once, twice, he tries to spark the lighter. Nothing. A third time, still nothing. He throws the lighter off the edge, tapping his foot. After a thought or two with his hand up to his chin, he heads back to his companion, slumping his shoulders as he treads towards him.

"Hey." he starts to call out. "D-Do you have your lighter sti-" is all he could mouth as an arrow finds its way into the neck of the man seated at the fire. Eyes as wide as the moon, he takes a step back, only for the heel of someones foot to connect with the back of his left knee, forcing him downwards. A hand had caught his shoulder when this all started, so he falls to his knees rather than on his stomach.

Before much retaliation could be allowed, a knife caused his breathing to hitch, only for the breath to be replaced with blood. With disbelief, he reaches for his neck, only to come back with blood on his finger tips.

He didn't last long after.

Situated above him, a tall boy with blonde hair stood, cleaning the knife he used mere seconds ago. Another shadow approached from nearby, a girl, blonde haired and careful in her steps, almost mimicking a fox in its prowl, she held a bow, with two fingers set at the tip of the holster on her side. Soon after, she slung the bow onto herself and continued at a normal pace. The man turned around and gestured towards the fire with his head.

"Good shot." he started "You're getting better and better." A smile formed under his face cover, making it rise with his cheekbones.

The girl waves it away, "Nothing special." She stands roughly in between the two bodies as she glances at their handy work.

"Tsk. Poor bastards, didn't stand a chance."

The boy shrugs, "Couldn't have made it more obvious if they tried." He mulled his words over "If you ask me, they either wanted to die, or they were stupid beyond words."

"Or they were just scared, not thinking straight." the woman points to her temple with a slightly raised eyebrow.

"Well, the one with an arrow through his throat," he absently pointed, "was confident," he points to his feet, "This guy, on the other hand wasn't very. They both ended the same way," he finishes with a shrug.

With the finishing of that sentence, he walked over to their bags.

Lifting one of the bags to inspect, he finds pretty much what you'd expect; Some clothes, some food, a hunting knife and a weathered picture of one of the two with a woman at what seemed like an amusement park, hugging each other with one hand and prizes or food in the other.

A shake of the head and a sigh is all it took for the picture to depart the boy's hand and land in the fire. The girl stood watch, her eyes on high alert as her accomplice sifted through the recently deceased parties' belongings. Anything useful stuffed in a duffel, the boy puts out the fire before heading towards the main stairs, tapping his partners shoulder as he went past. She followed soon after.

They both raise their hoods in unison as their feet land in the soft evening snow, as they fell from the small drop. The area around them wasn't any less in reckless abandon than the complex they were just in, it seemed like a worse part of whatever, or wherever they found themselves.

Shrouded in pitch black, the moon and the stars provided what little illumination there was to be had. They had started treading in a certain direction, but it was hard to make anything out in the moon light.

Their eyes are yet to adjust.


The white feature-obscured figure from before had made its way further towards the town it was approaching. Before passing a wrecked RV with a drab off-white paint job, it stopped in its tracks, looking over what was left of the vehicle. Passing it after taking in the sight, it stuck its hand out, tracing across the wide side of it, head bowed down.

Moving further into the town, whilst passing a junkyard, the figure looked away. "American Rust", a sign with letters that barely clung to their backdrop read.

Stopping at the sight of footprints in the road, the bundle of coats froze for a bit, only to walk over to the prints and lower to one knee with the purpose of inspecting the steps in the snow: a hand floated above them, a few fingers left to dangle above.

Fresh. About a few hours, give or take.

Two pairs of the steps, one of which was longer and slightly wider footed, followed somewhat close by another one, probably belonging to a smaller frame. Looking forward to where the tracks lead, the individual winces lightly.

Kneeling still, it takes a bit to mull over whether following them is really worth it. Deciding to head there anyways, with plenty of hesitation, the masked mystery stood up again and started walking, following the tracks somewhat closely.

A few minutes of walking further, it had seemed like the other part of town is where the prints led. The scene beheld was one of struggle; as if someone was attacked in the middle of the night, or just outright attacked in hand-to-hand. Struggling and tossing around etched in the snow, followed closely by blood.

The body of a man, older, in his 40's, maybe, stood motionless and nearly frozen through and through, with a bullet hole in his forehead. The point-forty-four sized hole saw all the way through his skull. Another path of blood revealed a body in what seemed like a crashed-through store front of a coffee shop.

Its back against the customer facing part of the counter, the other body held its hand across its stomach, clutching at the left arm.

Kneeling at the body revealed the right hand to be hiding a bloodied bite mark, seemingly human.

What the fuck?

The weary soul recoiled in fear, raising its hands to chest level, only to calm down with a few deep breaths and a look around, after which further inspection continued.

This head contained another bullet hole, similar in caliber like the one before. The culprit sat idly next to the victim, dropped there by someone else. It wasn't suicide, obviously, but all things considered, does it matter much?

The eyes of the body were still open. The newfound investigator took the head with both hands, slowly lifting it up to eye level, only to find the eyes bloodshot, nearly completely devoid of any color past the red of blood. Head soon left alone, the only witness to the crime was the .44 revolver sat on the shop floor. Picking it up, in one nudge at the cylinder, the figure counted its ammo.

Old class revolver, Smith and Wesson, maybe '89, three rounds in the cylinder.

A flick of the revolver caused the cylinder to fly shut, only for it to be stowed into the mess of winter clothes. Steps back towards the original body were caused by the previous realization, the same one cast a spell on the mountain of clothes; center of gravity was once again low, steps are careful and head on high alert, obviously scared of whatever that discovery was.

A further inspection revealed similar symptoms, only this one was found with blood and skin alien to the host body in the mouth. With a shake of the head, the winter private detective decided to explore more.

As it turns out, a school bus found its way into the forefront of the store. The front was covered in rubble and debris, all the behind-the-counter contents spilled forward, presumably in the impact.

The backdoor of the bus was open, perhaps forcefully. A few steps in, and a small gasp could be heard.

It was cleverly made into a makeshift shelter, with the front door leading into a back room behind the counter of the shop. As that was the only entrance to that room, it was easy to secure and protect. Besides the great job done for shelter, it was obviously inhabited by someone.. young.

Drawings of a pair of people, a house with a family, some dogs or cats, amongst other things, were strewn about a dark corner in the even darker room. Two sleeping bags sat close in one part of the room, opposite to the drawing corner. A stash of sorts, albeit small, was ransacked nonetheless, only a small duffel sticking out from behind one of the untouched boxes close to the stash.

Managing to pull out the duffel, the scavenger went through its contents, only to find a flashlight, some letters, more pictures, some matches, two bottles of water and a screwdriver, bloodied tip and all.

Noticing it was dark enough for the flashlight to prove useful, the scavenger flicked it on. Nothing that could not be deduced before, except for an integral part of the backdrop. The corpse of a small, brown haired girl hunched in the corner made the shape wince at the sight, averting the flashlight slowly, only to bring it back.

The vagabond stood, frozen in fear. Seemingly, had it been another body, it would have posed no problem. But the jaw length, chestnut colored bob cut seemed to have instilled fear in the veins. A slow walk, approaching the figure made her nearly double over.

A tug at corpse's shoulder made the frozen sculpture slump its own in relief, its hands instantly regressed back, only to return the body to its original position, kneeling close and staying silent while kneeling for a moment, head bowed down, similar to a prayer.

A few steps and out the door the masked investigator came, squinting high at the sky to check the time, only to be startled and interrupted by the distant reverb of a gunshot, followed closely after by a murder of crows flying off.

Ducking instantly and getting to the nearest wall or cover, the clothed shape looked around, only to establish that the gun shot was far away, clutching the rifle harder than during the investigation.

The decision to inspect might not be smart, yet somehow it was compelling.


The pair walked in bounding formation with their head on a swivel, only to return to normal once they were far enough away from the site of their little assault deep in the city.

They found themselves on a highway, followed by the coast somewhat closely.

"Who do you think that was in the picture?" the girl procured carefully.

A shrug was followed up by "Seemed like a girlfriend, why?"

"Don't know.. Lately I've been getting these thoughts after we'd kill someone and find personal shit like that."

"Its not often that it happens, for all its worth, so at least you don't have to have those thoughts constantly," he looked at her as they walked, only to continue, "These days, the past doesn't matter all that much. All you need to survive is the present."

A sad look befalls her face as she stares downwards, not meeting his eyes. The walk continues in silence.

The boy seemed to start getting increasingly uneasy as they passed through the streets.

"Do you feel like... Something's watching us?" he said in a tone just above a whisper.

The girl looked around, slowly, with a concerned look. "Doesn't seem to be anything out there that I can see." she said whilst still keeping on high alert.

A few slowed steps and some time of looking around, they decide it was nothing, only to continue the usual pace.

"Seattle, right? That's where we're headed, last I checked." the boy spoke up.

A nod was followed closely by "We have a contract to do over there, maybe we can get some pickings along the way." The sentence was enveloped in a sullen tone.

A sudden stop in steps, the girl dragged the boy back by the shoulder, immediately pulling him to duck down with her.

The boy shot a confused and questioning glance at his partner, only to see the distressed look in her face. A quick look forwards revealed a group of people, shambling, looking nowhere in particular, and directly behind them, an armed group. They mowed each shambling figure down one by one.

The girl gasped and clutched at her mouth, as her companion stood there, his gaze unbelieving. They quickly hid away in a moat on the side of the road, only to look at each other in confusion.

The boy's gaze now adamant, he signaled for his partner to stay silent, after which he took her wrist and led her down the moat towards the shooting, occasionally keeping eyes on the group of people.

They got somewhat closer before they took another look.

A group of five, they all wore similar things, varying only in color; ski pants, military rigs over snow parka, hood up and gas-masked. Some shades were different, some just different colors. None of them were, luckily, hard to miss.

His grip released as he signaled towards himself, looking back to get a confirmation. A nod is all it takes for the two to start heading upwards, towards a hill and trees, seemingly hoping to avoid them completely.

Now in the trees, they look down to see the group from before patrol down the highway. The sigh of relief was almost perfectly unanimous. They fail to notice the lack of one in the group as it kept strolling past.

Soon, they come to notice that mistake of theirs with the whizzing sound of a 7.62 fly into the tree near the head of the boy, putting him in a slight daze, his ears ringing, as both of them run for cover.

One of the figures from before, on the highway, had made his way up to them and came hunting. After ducking from more shots, the daze was shaken off and a glance was exchanged, followed by a nod.

The smaller of the two sprinted between covers, eliciting a shot from the masked person in her general direction. The male sprung out of cover, inching closer and closer to the shooter with each tree. With his attention away from him, the boy crept closer with every one. Both of them were hiding by the time the armed man looked around for the other of the two.

"Quit hiding, you dirtbags!" his voice was rough and accented; you could place it in the South of the USA.

The short haired of the two couldn't help but smile, as the impact of his shoulder to the assailants back was more than enough to sprout one. He angled his fist and landed a punch to the back of his head, causing his weapon to drop.

As he was kept pinned, the girl arose from cover, smile of her own drawn on her lips, shoved the 6 inch blade procured from a fore-arm holster into the assaulter's stomach once, after which he was released temporarily. He stumbled back, grasping at the stab wound.

"You little bi-" was all he could mouth before the inside of his throat felt the cold wind and saw the night sky.

His shoulders slumped and he fell to his knees, possibly drowning in a pool of his own blood.

"Well played." he said, dusting his hands.

"Likewise. Lets grab anything off him and leave fast."

"Don't have to tell me twice." he said as he lunged down to pick the body clean of anything of use.


Approaching the area from where the sound of the shot ebbed as it lead further into the forest, a shallow and faint stack of smoke could be seen.

A fire was snuffed out here, a while ago.

The campfire was slightly offcentre in this circled clearing that was completely surrounded by trees, a bit close to two tents, one of which looked trampled. Seemed like a camp that was abandoned in a hurry. It was hard to see any signs of life. Our masked protagonist carefully walked along the edges of the cover of trees, actively looking to spot anything, anything to show an all clear.

It was a while before taking the steps inward was deemed safe enough. The clearing appeared flat, which was not the case. The outsides were banked downwards towards the center, which caused the mound of clothes to almost slip, only to regain balance soon after.

Exploring the camp yielded something, but not much of use. A book, 'October Country' by Ray Bradbury, some hair ties, a crumpled post-it note, pertaining to nothing in particular, seemed like a date and/or time, some energy bar wrappers and a broken string of something, possibly a guitar.

Leaving the contents alone in a similar state as they were found, the lingering feeling of being watched was present. The investigative character tensed up lightly at the feeling, only to notice something in the corner of its eye.

A wolf stood somewhat far off, the same one as before, idly and vacantly starting towards, and quite possibly through.

Tearing its sight in the opposite direction of the wolf to more pressing matters, a rustling sound of leaves being cleared in a path could be heard. Ducking behind the tent quickly, the body sought better cover, only to find it in the arising trees. Ducking low and taking a knee, steadying its breath, the figure cocked its ears, ready to hear exactly who they were intruding on. Light steps, were followed by a huff and a drop of what sounded like a bag.

The steps continued shortly, only for them to tense up and stop. The prints. Whoever is in the camp must have saw the prints. Getting ready for a fight was cut short by the swinging noise of a large branch that our protagonist managed to swiftly dodge.

A knife was procured from the inside of their coat and was swung at the branch-wielding shadow. A dodge backwards, both of the compositions faced each other as if in a standoff.

The mountain of clothes found itself facing a woman, shorter by a head, approximately, with a hood up and a scarf over the nose, leaving the tense and angry blue eyes out for the world to see.

A grey hoodie with a black vest with its sleeves raised to the elbow and denim jeans, followed by a pair of boots.

"The fuck do you want from me?!" the blue eyed assailant exclaimed in a distressed tone. Her opponent recoiled slightly, only to start replying, before having to clear its throat.

"Nothing, I thought this camp was abandoned." it retorted, holding a knife close for defense.

"Well it isn't! Now what, you kill me?!"

"No, absolutel-" was all the white-clad image said in a hardly distinguishable female voice before she was charged at with the aforementioned branch.

The forearms of one were met with the forearms of another, placed in a cross formation with the purpose to block. A broken off and sharp edge of a large branch merely inches from her face, the white wearing female kicked her opponent in the base of the stomach, sending her towards the tree, landing back first in a slight daze, dropping the weapon.

The fight wasn't long. The blue-eyed of the two was not very strong. She started grasping at the hand at her neck as the one who pinned her there started breathing louder than before.

"Well?! Fucking finish what you started!" she snarled, the clawing at the hand kept on.

The interloper froze up for a second, seemingly in realization, only to chuckle to itself, before looking back up and continuing its laughter, now harder than before.

"No, I don't- I don't think I could." it said with an audible grin.

This only made the pinned girl angrier. "Why?! That's what you're here for anyways!" she exclaimed, continuing her assault.

"Again... Don't think I could."

"Why?" the hands stopped and only held on, yet the gaze kept at its intensity and remained unfaltered. "Got some.. sick, fucking plan for me?" she shook her head to one side with a questioning tone and an equally questioning tone of voice and glance. "Gonna lock me up somewhere? Sell me to some slavers or something?"

The laughter continued even during the sentence. "No no no, nothing like that."

The voice at the other end became more defined, as the blue eyes blinked twice, thrice only for the pupils to dilate in realization.

"See, I don't see why you're so anxious on one of us getting killed."

With the end of that sentence, the character backed away releasing the smaller girl from the tree, only to start loosening the scarf that surrounded her face.

"Its been long; I have to say, not surprised you didn't recognize me." as she kept at the scarf, eventually managing to take it off, revealing a pale lower face, a smirk and white teeth behind it. "I'm just surprised I found you here of all places."

The blue eyes stared on in disbelief, the mask lightly misshapen from the mouth open behind it in disbelief, as the girl clutched to the tree.

After the scarf, the goggles came off soon after, revealing a pair of light blue eyes, starting to stare intently at the opposite pair.

"Its nice to see you too, Maxi-pad." the smirk only grew larger. "What, don't recognize me?" she said, spreading both hands away from her core with the goggles and scarf in hand, leaving the beanie on her head, with her weight shifted onto one her legs, striking a pose.

The other pair of eyes only grew wider in shock. A few more blinks and the girl tore her own scarf down, only to lunge in the arms of the other girl.

"Chloe, holy shit!" she exclaimed gleefully, her arms wrapping around the neck of her recently rediscovered friend and her nose finding her way to the crook of it, smiling from ear to ear. Chloe was thrown off balance, sticking a foot behind her to maintain what little of it was left, reciprocating the longing hug, indulging in the warmth.

"Nice to see you too, dork."