This has been a side project of mine which has been on the back burner for a while. Once again, if people want more then I will complete the story (there is already plenty more done). Feedback appreciated!
Welcome, that's what the sign said. It made me stop for a second to think, which I hardly ever do. These days, welcome is a dead word; there's no use for it, and nobody says it. Someone should sit down with a dictionary and go through scribbling out all the useless words. Words like government, peace, tranquillity, safety, power and education, to name a few. I chucked the sign back to where it was, the dust off the road kicking up into the air. The sun was starting to sink its way beneath the horizon, so I pressed on towards the vanishing point of the road ahead of me, leaving the gas station in my wake.
I had found a good place to hold out for the night which, ironically, was a fuel tanker. I knew it was empty though. They always are and most of them have suffered some unfortunate mishap to end up where they were. This one had had its tires blown out and judging by the faded tire marks on the road, had then crashed into a rocky outcrop. As for the driver, well what's left of him was slumped over in the cab. Long story short, he didn't die quickly. I climbed up to the open hatch on the tanker and dropped down inside. Signs of a previous occupant were scattered on the floor. An old sleeping bag, plus empty bean tins and, remarkably, a wind up radio. The thing still worked once I had spent 2 minutes spinning the handle, but as I expected no signals of any sort to detect. I opened my bag and laid Lucy and Annabelle on the floor next to me. Next followed my daily routine. Check Lucy and Annabelle over for any wear and tear, followed by a strip down and deep clean. Reassemble and ready in case of a disturbance. Then I jumped up and surveyed my surroundings, and planned 2 escape routes if my position was compromised. Once I was satisfied, I settled down for the night.
The night passed without incident, save for the howl of wolves off in the distance. I gathered my things and set off. The sun was trying to battle its way through the clouds, to no avail. Dust devils snaked their way across the dry dead fields to my left, almost as if they were actual beings, hunting in a pack. I watched them for a minute as they twirled around the plain, until they disappeared. I could see something through the heat haze in the distance. Picking up Lucy, I looked through the scope. It was a burning car. Not good. Last time I checked, cars don't just spontaneously combust, there needs to be an outside factor. So something – or someone – had started that fire. I think I know which one it was. I sprinted off the road and dived into a drainage ditch. The stench was unbearable, but I had smelt worse. I crawled my way along the ditch, and into a pipe, which ran back diagonally under the road in front of me. As I was carefully making my way towards the light at the other side, I suddenly heard voices.
"There's no one around, it was a waste of matches" one said.
"Matt, I'm telling you I saw something walking down the middle of the road" replied the other.
"And I'm telling you there's no one here. It's probably you seeing things from not taking the meds."
"Fuck you, I feel fine."
"Whatever, I'm off to take a leak; don't do anything stupid."
Leaning out of the pipe, I looked back to where the voices had originated from. There were two guys, one older than the other. The younger one had dark brown matted hair, looked about 5'10", I'd guess around 25 years old. Judging by the state of the other one, he could be 40 – 50, looking at the long grey beard, and heavy limp he had. I waited until the older one, Matt, had slipped out of view, then crept out onto the embankment. The younger one was high, no doubt about it. I could see from here that his eyes were bloodshot, and he kept craning his neck to look at the sky. I looked up to try to see what he was staring at – nothing. There never is anything in the sky these days, save for the occasional bird or cloud. Finding a comfortable enough spot to lie prone I rested Lucy against the verge, corrected my breathing and pulled the trigger. There was a slight jolt as she released the dart, its sleek black mass streaking across the void between me and the man. It entered his ear canal almost bang on centre, as if it was designed for that very purpose. There was a slight crunching noise as it drove home. He let out a slight grunt and sagged forward back onto his makeshift bed, and lay still. Perfect. I vaulted the crash barrier and ran over to their camp. There was not a lot which caught my eye, although they did have a compass, which I grabbed, then hid behind the burning car. A couple of minutes later, give or take, the older man returned.
"Heh, you sure you were feeling ok?" he said to the corpse.
"Out like a light you are. Here, let me cover you up."
He stood up and grabbed an old blanket, and went over to place it over the man. I mirrored his movements, until I was stood right behind him. As he lent down to pull it up over the guy's shoulders, he noticed the little black dart protruding from the ear.
"What the fuck is this?"
He started pulling it out, and with a sickening squelch it came free. He grimaced as he looked at the gore stuck on the end of it. Spinning round, he unclipped his pistol from its holster. He saw me and froze.
When someone points a gun at you, you have a split second to evaluate their actions. Luckily in situations like this, your body gives you a little help whether you like it or not. With adrenalin flooding your bloodstream and rushing around your body, you are able to react to things quicker than normal. In this instant I was able to look at his weapon, a rusted Bren Ten, and see that there was no threat. The trouble with firearms, especially guns, is that they need regular maintenance. Failure to maintain a weapon will result in death: either from the weapon misfiring and killing you or being killed by something else. This man had failed to maintain his weapon, as the firing pin was so bent it looked like it had melted. I smiled and took a step towards him, raising Lucy to my shoulder.
"What do you want from us?" he shouted. The pistol began to wobble in his hand he was shaking so much.
"Us? Your friend is dead."
"I-I-I have gas! Here, let me get it!" he pleaded, nodding to two corroded oil drums lying on their side. If they had gas, they wouldn't be here.
"I checked anyway, but I know that's a lie. But I'll make you an offer, as I'm in a good mood."
He dropped the pistol by his feet.
"Whatever you need, just let me live, please!"
"I want my dart back."
He looked down at the bloody dart in his hand. He handed it over and ran off over the hill. I let him go and carried on walking. Some people act so tough and grizzly when they have are in control. Take that control away from them and they are usually cowards.
"Stupid son of a bitch, turn around so I can watch you die."
I raised my hands and turned slowly around to face him. The man who had just run off was leaning on the roof of the flaming car, aiming the pistol right at me. I looked him dead in the eyes and laughed. He pulled the trigger and there was a thunk as the firing pin caught the back of the gun. He looked down at it in horror, then the fuel tank of the burning car ignited. A fireball tore up through the interior, and out the windows. Straight into the man's torso. He screamed and tried to roll around on the road to try and put out the blaze, but a fire that big wasn't going to go out easily. I turned my back on the scene, reloaded Lucy, and resumed my journey towards nowhere.
End of Chapter 1
