Caliber Lunar was a typical teenager pre apocalypse. Times where you'd see her dressed up nicely, but she was constantly in her observatory. At 9 years old she graduated high school. She held great achievements, but it only brought her a deeper disappointment. People made fun of her for being so smart through her entire childhood. The only one who supported her was John Lunar, her beloved father.
She loved majoing in astrophysics. As a child, the universe intrigued her. Even her father picked up on how badly she wanted to study the immaculate universe.
The first school report she wrote was on 1915 Einstein's revolutionary theory that matter warps or curves the geometry of space-time, and how we experience that distortion as gravity. Basically the girl wrote about the existence of massive black holes being one of the first Einstein theoretical predictions. The rest of the class struggled to write their essays on simple subjects the teacher provided if they hit a creative block.
She showed interest, and love for something beyond her age. Principles insisted on putting the young child in advanced schools because of her intelligence drawing a target to herself in regular public school. She was bullied by students, and teachers. The principal had said 'That child makes us all feel less of a person. No mind should be this smart.'
3 years ago she had woken up in her observation lab after towers went down. Her telescope was a part of the set of towers that sent an electronic pulse so strong it wiped out electricity, and slammed her 30 feet back into a steel wall. She was unconciouse wile havoc was roaming freely outside. Caliber had been working with defense control for America when she continuesly received the same yellow envelope under her door with the letter z neatly imprinted with baby blue candle wax. The first one was an invitation to join some sort of new world top secret club that gained acess to the new jobs they had to offer. Hers being an astrophysicist who now was to cooperate with seven others just like herself from South pole to the tallest mountain in hawaii.
The electronically linked network of eight highly respected observatories created a virtual telescope dish as wide as the Earth.
She remembered being so ignorant, and proud to be apart of the global sized radio-dish network keeping a watchful eye on the universe.
A loud, garggling shriek ripped Caliber from her thoughts. The 5'6 tall, 105 pound female stood her ground in complete stealth mode. The shriek erupted a second time. Wile focusing on the sound she calculated it's position 38 feet to her right. The revived soulless corpse was nowhere in site, but the faint putrid scent wafted her senses. The smell of a damp, hot forest was usually an enticing prospect to her, but the rotten stench of death anywhere is over powering.
It was instinctual for her to still her movements, and begin observing. The brightness in the clashing green leaves illuminated her view along the terrain. The wind using them as another peaceful instrument so soft that it hardly drowned the choking grunts, abrubt growls, and shuffeling feet. Those sounds were amplified to her.
Her previous life seemed trivial to her now. Studying things that didn't matter. School never taught her how to start a fire, or fight for her life. No those were seperate programs that she had to pay if she wanted to learn. How malnourishment effected behavioral decisions.
Her father taught her how to hot wire a car, and syphon gas in situations like this. He taught her how to fight, and protect her supplies. Hell he taught her what supplies were important, and had multiple uses.
The scent of rotting death hit the back of her throat. She scrunched her nose, expressing her disgust. She waited patiently for it to come into view. Wondering how it was this close already.
The gnarly things had horrible motor skills. They were easy to kill in small numbers. Her eyes began searching. Studying every shadow before she spotted the noisy, stumbling figure moaning it's distresses only 12 feet from her right. Noting it cleared a natural obstacle course, and tracked her easily by scent in shorter time than the common zombie. As an professional observer for an entire universe it had become a habit to observe life on earth.
This particular zombie seemed different than the others she slaughtered. It's eyes were a blue hue that seemed to shine in the darkest shadows. It's constant snarling voiced the suffering starvation like any other z, but it was dodging trees. She stopped walking to watch it come closer. Counting the seconds it took to reach another six feet. She furrowed her thin brows with confusion.
"What makes you so different?" She whispered amongst herself. As if the thing heard her it's face disoriented as he shrieked at her, and picked up its foot higher to step over a fallen tree. She considered mutation stages. Her small hand moved to the set of throwing knives strapped around her thin, bare thighs. It was such a hot day that she cut her pants into really short-shorts that she wouldn't have worn pre z due to insecurities of her body.
Long certain fingers wrapped around a single knife, and easily pulled it front the tight holster. Her eyes not once parting from the noisy intruder. When they shriek, she wondered if they could possibly be announcing their find to any other infected wandering near by. Just like hunters cheered for their kill. She knew what would happen if she didn't take this z out before it got much closer.
She studied its existence briefly before flicking her wrist, and releasing the projectile. The small knife spun so fast it looked like a shiny ball shooting toward the blue eye staring at its prey. The sound of metal slicing through gushy flesh, and weak bone structure echoed the surrounding area like a whisper in the wind. The satisfied sound followed a blank stair from the zombie before it collapsed heavily to the ground.
She walked the distance, and stood beside the limp body. It's head was awkwardly propped by a thick root sticking out from the earth. Coagulated blood slowly trickling from the wound. She spotted the bites scattered over its body, and registered this zombie had once been a fellow man that didn't quite escape fast enough.
She bent down, and gripped the corded handle of her knife. A suction sound erupted as she pulled it from the rotten skull. A putrid smell thickened the air when she pulled the knife out. She wondered if parasites could turn zombie wile she wiped the blade on a black bandana tied to her belt loop, and returned the knife back in its holster.
Glancing around her surroundings to make sure this zombie was the only visitor. Satisfied with her safety she stepped over the dead, and continued on with her path.
Her previous curiosities clouded her focus, but wile she zoned out mentally. Her body grew senses she gained through survival efforts. Viruses are bad for those they infect. Especially ones like Ebola, or LRV-1. Parasites generally gain a competitive boost from carrying a virus, but what if a virus was engineered to infect the carrier as well as the prey no matter the size, or bodily formula.
"Shut up Murphy." Calibers slow pace came to a holt mid stride. Instinctively she crouched beside a large tree, and slowed her breathing. Focusing on sharpening her senses. "Can't we take a break?" A male voice arrogantly questioned. Caliber caught the irritating desperation in his raspy voice. Judging by his deep voice she guessed it was a 30-37 year old male. Maybe 165 pounds. "Fine, but a quick one." A female insisted. Caliber saw a glare of light to her left, and saw them clearly. "Uh guys." A different female voice exclaimed. "Come look at this." She insisted. Caliber remained low, and stealthy as she curiously changed direction. Silently walking through vegetation as she came to a decent distance from behind them. Hidden by the deep forest.
"Is that mount Rushmore?" A young man questioned. She wondered what American wouldn't instantly recognize the beloved rock formations that had been made to resemble the faces of our best presidents. Her eyes studied the standing survivors in a small meadow like area. There were five figures. Two female, three male. What caught her attention was stuck on the male with a pink egg shaped backpack decorated with black 4 inch black cloth spikes. The mans skin was sickly blue. His shaven head was patchy with short hairs.
He resembled an infected survivor that was going to turn soon, but he was actively healthy. She had been so focused on that man she hadn't noticed the raven hair man watching her silently. When she noticed him, her eyes widened with anxiety. She's been spotted. "Breaks over." The ebony woman announced as her focus was on latching her large black hiking pack around her comfortably. "What?" The blue man gasped with disbelief.
The young man seemed to be struck frozen. His eyes hadn't left Calibers. The older gentleman, and the young, tanned woman beside him started following the woman away from Rushmore. The old man seemed to notice the absent young raven haired man. He turned back, and spotted him as Calibers eyes studied the raven man. He had a M110 rifle strapped over his shoulder, and several weapons attached to him. He had a light weight pack on his back that resembled her own. "Warren." The old man called over his shoulder.
Calibers brain screamed commands to her body, but it was stunned under this mans stare. The feet loudly walking through over grown grass came to a halt. "Holy shit." The ebony woman gasped with a startled tone. Caliber registered the sound of a gun being pulled from its holster. The young mans eyes darted toward the sound, and seemed to not like the action of his team, but understood the precautions. "Walk out with your hands up, or I'll shoot." The woman ordered in a military tone. Caliber didn't move. She started to feel light headed. Her vision blurred, and a burning sensation grew in her chest.
Her lungs forced the air out that she unconsciously held in for to long. Instantly she felt better once fresh oxygen was drafted into her lungs. "Come on." The older man insisted with a kindness to his voice. Caliber looked like an elegant deer stilled with fear. She sighed with defeat, raised her hands, and walked into view. Avoiding eye contact. "Who are you?" The woman demanded. Caliber held a blank expression when her eyes locked with brown ones. "Just a traveler." She responded. Her voice melodic, laced with exhaustion, and anxiety.
"State your name." The young woman dressed in revealing black clothes slightly hiding behind the young raven haired man demanded. Caliber just stared at her with a raised eyebrow, and a look of amusement. One of the many things she enjoyed things about the apocalypse was that nobody recognized her. "You first." Caliber stated simply. Returning to a blank stare. The girl scowled at Caliber.
"Roberta Warren." Calibers eyes snapped to the ebony woman. The woman had lowered her revolver, and introduced herself. She must have sensed Caliber wasn't a threat. The young woman folded her arms, and clenched her jaw, obviously displeased by the Roberta warrens choice. "My name is Caliber." She responded, forcing a slight smile.
"Are you traveling alone?" The young man asked. "Who cares, important package, remember?" The blue man arrogantly groaned with annoyance. "Shut up Murphy." Roberta Warren, the older man, and raven man said in unision. This must be a common saying for this group, but what could be so important about a package delivery during the apocalypse? "Yes I'm alone." Caliber admitted. Feeling no reason to be threatened by this group.
It had been a long time since she last saw a living being worth the risk to converse with. The last person that spoke to her was a gruff set of bikers with two tied up women in their side car. Caliber knew what they intended to do to those woman, and what would happen to her if she was captured by those savages. "You should come with us." The raven haired boy insisted. Such innocence held in stunning green eyes. An innocence Caliber wished she still had before the world slapped it away from her.
The blue man, and the tanned girl seemed to object this idea with crude facial expressions, and their body language. "We could use an extra pair of hands." Roberta Warren said. Her full lips stretched into a genuine smile. "That depends, what's the package mean?" She asked curiously. "None of your business." The blue man hissed. Calibers eyes narrowed at the man. "This is Murphy, he carries antibodies of the last successfully tested vaccine." Roberta Warren informed. Also looking at the blue man with narrow eyes. He threw his hands out in exclamation of his annoyance.
"Odd." Caliber mumbled. "Lets go!" Murphy growled, and started walking in the direction they had started before seeing a strange figure hiding in the shadows. "Come on." The young man said with a smile as his team followed Murphy. Caliber hesitantly followed, seeing as the sniper wasn't going to move until she did. She was comforted that her curiosities were informed. The man looked like a zombie because he was turning. Without the steady vaccine he was eventually going to turn, but when he does will he be the only zombie that has makes considered actions, or will he be just like the rest of the zombies? "So what were you doing out in the woods?" The young man asked, luring her into conversation, and away from her thoughts that gave her a zoned expression.
She turned her head toward the voice, large lavender eyes locking with greens. His eyes reminded her of a thick jungle. He was an earthy man. His gray camo shirt made his complexion seem pale. He was maybe two, or three years older than her. He flashed a boyish smile at her when she realized he had watched her study his features, and waited patiently for her response. "I like the woods." She responded curtly, and averted her gaze.
He stayed quite for a wile. Caliber studied Roberta Warren, despite the heat she wore tight blue jeans, a burgundy tank top with a leather jacket over top of it. She had been the only one to introduce herself. She spoke, and carried herself like a sergeant would. Her choice of weapons was only a revolver strapped to her outer left thigh wile a sheathed machete was strapped to her belt along her right hip. Calibers eyes jumped to the old man that repetitively glanced at the young man walking beside the new woman. She noticed a gleam in his eyes every time the old man checked on him.
They looked nothing alike, but she found her mind asking if that was his father in some way. The mans scraggly white hair was wild with clomps of dirt. His beard was more of a silver shade than his hair. He was dressed with light blue jeans, black t shirt with a sleeveless red flannel unbuttoned. Something about his attitude reminded her of a hippie.
The Asian woman shooting glares at caliber every chance she got was dressed in ridiculously tight, tanned cargos, and a low cut black shirt. She had a gray jacket on with the sleeves shoved up her forearms. She wore such tight clothing, but her body wasn't much to look at. She had a beautiful face, but it was spoiled with a disgusting attitude. Even Murphy had long black slacks, and a long sleeve dark gray shirt. Caliber felt out if place. She was the only one dressed for the hot summer. It made her wonder where they came from that needed warm clothing.
They walked for hours. Warren kept checking a small compass, and her wrinkled map. Murphy continuously shot jokes to her about being lost, and calling her Columbus. Caliber closed out from the conversations, and watched their body language. She never trusted the spoken word, people tell the truth in their own ways, she learned to watch instead of just listen. "Hey guys." The old man said, he perked up. Caliber noticed he seemed to grow excitement for his find. Caliber stopped between the old man, and the young sniper.
The group gathered the site of several lined white pull barns. Each one looked clean, no bloody smudges from zombies leaving their feeble minded prints. It was a industrial site, but Caliber didn't recognize any solid structures indicating exactly what this place was. The sniper held his rifle ready between two hands wile Roberta Warren held her revolver, the old man had a crow bar hanging from his fingers as he lead the circle formation through the ally between the neatly scattered buildings.
Caliber smelled something obnoxious. Could this have been a sewage facility? "Who still locks doors in the apocalypse?" The old man complained. Re gripping his crow bar, and flashing it to the groups attention. "Good thing I have a skeleton key." He stated with an optimistic tone. Caliber smirked, and slightly shook her head. Something about this old man assured her of a good person.
Seconds after he connected the bar to the crease beside the knob he cracked the wood, and the door popped open. Bravely he pushed it open, and walked into the blackness. Caliber followed with intoxicating curiosities. Steel shelves still held tool boxes for easy access to preform maintenance routines. Large steel pipes line walls, and the center of the room. Some white, other yellow, few were blue, or red. Her hand laid against the largest pipe that had been painted yellow. It was cold to the touch. Moister sweating down in slow drops. Everybody searched the area, Roberta Warren walked a near by staircase that went unto a short catwalk, and into a supervisor office so that she could see further than if she stood on the main floor.
Caliber followed the young sniper. Noticing the young woman reeked of fear as she nearly clung to the back of his shirt. Caliber studied the girls behavior, and wondered how well she could fight. If she could fight.
A low growling sound softly echoed the small facility. Roberta Warren instantly held her index finger against her lips in order to tell her team to stay quite. She ushered them through a door. Caliber crouched low beside Roberta. The young woman beside her. The older man across from them with his crow bar between his hands, ready to strike.
Murphy stood behind the old man. She noticed Murphy seemed in physical discomfort. The low growl seemed to fade in distance until the vibrating sound of Murphy releasing gas. "Seriously." Roberta hissed under her breath, and covered her mouth, and nose. Both the young woman, and the old man scrunched their faces in disgust. "Sorry." Murphy mumbled. "If I die because you shit yourself, you're going down with me." Caliber hissed when she clearly heard the zombie snarl, now fully aware of their presence.
Everybody stared at her when she stood up impatiently just as the zombie shrieked as it turned into the open door way. They were stunned to see it glowing. Instinctively Caliber balled her fist, and punched his so hard in its glowing face that it was thrown back a good five feet. Its back crashing into the pipes across from the door way. Her hand began to burn as if it was just dipped in sulfuric acid.
She hissed in pain, and held her own hand. Inspecting it wile the old man, and Roberta Warren dealt with the glowing z. The young sniper grabbed her wrist, and pulled it away from her own grasp. He had a black bandana ready. He soaked it with water, and dabbed at the burns still growing in size. She stared at him as he ignored the stare, and continued to clean the wounds.
She was about to ask him a question when the door seven feet behind her was aggressively kicked open. She whirled around, ready to fight. "Don't touch them!" An old man rapidly entered the facility with a second figure dressed in the same yellow biohazard suit. "Why?" The young woman of the group questioned with panic etched in her voice. Bringing it to a higher pitch. "Get back!" He yelled, the sniper pulled Caliber to the wall with him, and the old man of the group. Out of the advancing yellow suited intruders path. They both held odd weapons. One being a zapper on a four foot black pole, wile the smaller feminine figure held a pistol.
They executed the on coming glowing z's, and pushed the group out of the building. "What is going on?" Caliber, and Roberta demanded answers. Caliber registered his raspy short breaths, and froze. "They're radioactive." That's all she needed. Instantly she ran out of the opened door, and yanked her pack off. The old man from her new group, and the sniper followed her wile the rest continued their questionnaire.
The old man crouched in front of Caliber who was now sitting on her knees as she rummaged through her bag. He had pulled out a medic kit before she pulled out a clean knife, rubbing alcohol, and a small clear bag filled with smashed herbs. Her burnt hand was shaking, but she had to cut the glowing pieces of flesh off from her knuckles, and fingers. The sniper gently gripped the hand holding the knife. Her eyes looked up as he crouched beside her. "Let me do it." He insisted. Not giving her a chance to argue.
He disinfectant the knife, and sprawled her hand over his knee. She felt his grip tighten around her wrist, pining her hand against his knee incase she twitched, or fought once the pain of the cutting hit. To his surprise she didn't seem phased by the feeling of his gentle movements. The old man used a clean paper cloth to dab the fresh slices to soak up blood so 10k could continue his steady work.
As soon as he finished, the old man began his own process. Her hand still over the snipers knee that she was ordered to grip.
She watched these strangers take care of her. It confused her. People like this just didn't exist anymore. These two men didn't care if she refused their help, she was getting it whether she liked it, or not. The old man lightly poured alcohol over her wounds. Her grip tightened, clenching her haw to avoid cursing profanities. The sniper studied the pained expression. The old man quickly cleaned the wounds before wrapping them with gauze, and white medical wrap.
"You guys coming?" Roberta Warren was faintly heard in the back ground. The old man nodded without looking at her as he finished tying the wrap. Making sure nothing could get past it. "All set." He said, smiling at Caliber. "Thanks guys." She smiled back. This smile was honest, and pure. Something that took both of them off guard. "Would you like some pain killers?" The hippie offered as he repacked his medic kit. Caliber finished with her pack, and moved to pull it over her shoulder. Wincing when the wrap tightened over her skinned knuckles.
"No thanks. It doesn't hurt that bad." She insisted, and walked between them as the trio caught up with the group. They were introduced to Wilbur Grady, and his daughter Amelia.
Caliber enjoyed Amelia's company the entire walk into town. They engulfed in conversation. The group learned a lot about Caliber wile listening to the conversation. Wilbur smiled non stop at his daughter finally conversing with a woman she liked.
"How old are you?" Amelia asked Caliber who had spoken like she was back in her observatory. "18 in four months." She beamed. "Wait, what?" Murphy sounded shocked. Everybody watched Caliber looked back, and seem to remember there was other people around. They watched anxiety lace the happiness in unusual lavender eyes. "I feel like a pedophile." He grumbled. Amelia glared at him with disgust.
"Ew." Caliber shivered at the thought of Murphy sexually thinking about her. "Why would you feel like a pedophile?" The sniper asked curiously. Caliber noticed the innocent ignorance. "How old are you?" Amelia asked him. "21." The sniper responded instantly. "Hn." Caliber lightly grunted. Now knowing just how much older that man is. He didn't look a day over 19. "You're 21, and don't know what a pedophile is?" Caliber blurted out. Walking backwards as she studied the snipers awkward body language.
His nervous expression told her he honestly had no idea. She registered this, and rested with thought that he was most likely sheltered. "A pedophile is a person who has sexual interest in one who is under the legal age." Caliber informed. Everybody caught the joy she had wile teaching the sniper. She always enjoyed teaching. That was her hobby was to teach pre apocalypse. "What is the legal age?" He asked. "18." Amelia answered. Caliber caught the disappointed look in those green eyes. She raised an eyebrow, a habit she had when curiosities grew. "Hn." She mumbled before turning back around, and returning to her joyous conversation with Amelia.
"So what did you do before this?" Caliber asked. The young blue eyes woman beamed. "I was a piolet, what did you do?" Amelia stated excitedly. Caliber smiled. "I can build air crafts, but never learned how to fly one." She stated, and glanced back to see the group, including Wilbur was listening still. She sighed, and looked to Amelia. "I was a astrophysicist." Caliber stated honestly. Amelia smiled, showing her perfect white teeth that seem to show more guns than teeth. "I thought you looked familiar. There's only one pair of eyes like yours." Amelia seemed to resemble an excited fan girl, but Caliber didn't mind this from such a small town woman who shared the same love to learn that Caliber had.
"Caliber Lunar?" Roberta Warren blurted out with shock, and sudden recognition. "The girl that discovered the black hole was real?" The old man from her group asked. Caliber nodded, and glanced over her shoulder. Seeing exactly what she wished to avoid. They now knew she was beyond intelligent. "What's an astrophysicist?" The young tanned girl asked. Amelia looked at Caliber with a knowing smile. "I gotta piss." Murphy grumbled, and walked out of site, the group stopped. Murphy re merged seconds after disappearing. He snagged roll of toilet paper, and left.
Caliber looked at the tanned girl waiting for her answer. Noting how the sniper was eager to find out. "An Astrophysicist is a professional, or student of astrophysics. Astrophysics is the branch of astronomy concerned with the physical nature of stars and other celestial bodies, and the application of the laws and theories of physics to the interpretation of astronomical observations." Caliber informed, pride clear in her tone, and sparkled in her eyes. They were all dumb found. Wilbur, and his daughter seemed to brighten with admiration. She could tell they knew her research.
"So you're one of those impossibly smart freaks?" The Asian girls question diluted the rare lightness that had shown in Caliber. She realized this woman was exactly like the bullies she dealt with growing up. Instantly Caliber knew this woman, and herself would never get along. The sniper scowled at the woman beside him. Everybody briefly looked at the tanned girl with distaste for her attitude. "Just so you know. The world revolves around the sun, not you." Caliber stated broadly.
Daring the woman to front her a reason to end this growing nemesis type relationship between a cheerleader, and a scientist. The woman hugged, flocked her hair back, and attempted to nudge Caliber as she passed only to receive an effortlessly shove of Calibers hand. The young woman hadn't expected the nerdy girl to fight back against her attitude. She had sloppily fallen over her own feet, and landed with a heavy thud.
"Touch me again, and I'll slit your throat." Caliber threatened with a blank expression.
These strangers learned that Caliber was a bright young individual with a light of knowledge, and innocence hiding away inside of her. Amelia grinned. Seeing the young Caliber defend herself. Caliber assumed she would be kicked from the group, but instead the tanned girl was scolded by the elders.
The girl lingered behind the group, throwing a mental fit that she couldn't express vocally. "So what did you do?" The sniper was the first to break the silence. Interest burning in her eyes. She slowly smiled at the young man. Realizing just how well she would fit in with this group.
They had grown a root in her heart, and she barely knew any of them. Hell she only knew two of their names, but actually felt like she wanted to know these people. She felt socially safe. Like she could be herself, and not have to worry about them ripping her apart for being so smart. She just smiled at him, and shook her head. Unable to believe she finally found people to travel with. People who wouldn't smother her, or scold her for being who she is.
The young man smiled at her, reading the woman like an open book. She felt closer to home than the forest made her feel. Caliber never wanted to lose this connection now that she had it in her grasp.