May 10, 2016
Boston, Massachusetts
Three years after the CBI outbreak
Tess walks down the streets of post-pandemic Boston. People linger around the streets, leaning on walls, talking next to dumpsters. She has a backpack, and is dressed in an old flannel and jeans. Some people regard her with a friendly nod or word, others steer clear. Soldiers pay her no attention as she walks by, treading down the streets and taking calculated turns around buildings. She climbs over a fence and enters a warehouse, where there men are seen waiting on a metal container. Sea stretches out to their right, docks empty and chained off to the normal folk.
The man in the center is dark-skinned, heavily built, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. His name was Maurice. The other men are simply around as his guards, as is obvious by the hostile look they give Tess as she approaches them.
Maurice: Hey, there. You don't look so hot today.
Tess: Ran into a little bad luck last night.
Maurice (laughing): Yeah, I heard. You gave Malik a piece of your mind after that poker game, huh? It's all over the district.
Tess (with a slight smirk): I gave him more than just a piece of my mind, if you gotta know.
Maurice laughs. His guards look relaxed, assuming Tess to be a friendly.
Tess: Alright, now cut to the chase. What's the deal?
Maurice's smile fades, but his friendly demeanour remains as he gets to his feet and walks to her with a paper in his hand.
Maurice: This is a big pickup. Gotta collect a package from outside the QZ.
Tess (taking the paper in hand, going over it carefully): What's the deal?
Maurice: Ration cards.
Tess (with a laugh, rolling her eyes): I got enough ration cards, Maurice. Gimme something worthwhile.
Maurice: Well, my client ain't unreasonable. What do you want, worth the price of those ration cards?
Tess (pacing slowly in front of him, folding the paper and stuffing it in her back pocket): Get me 2 semi-automatics and 2 pistols. With ammo.
Maurice (running a hand along his jaw, thinking): Hmm . . Guess it can be done. I'll give you half tonight. The rest after the job is done.
Tess: Alright. When?
Maurice: Gotta get the package back in two days. Now it's quite the distance, so the client arranged transport. You know how to ride a bike?
Tess (with a shrug): I'll manage.
Maurice: That's my girl.
He approaches her and attempts to lay a hand around her shoulders, to which Tess stiffens. She stops his hand midway, eyes meeting his threateningly. The guards step forward, but Maurice gestures them to calm down, amused.
Maurice (leering suggestively at her, stepping away): You gotta get some muscle to protect you sometime, Tess. A woman alone can only manage for so long. We'd make a nice team together.
Tess (eyes blazing, a slight scowl on her face): I'll get some if I need it. Until then, lay your fucking hands off me. Spread the word to your goons.
Maurice (smiling cunningly): I don't know what you mean.
Tess: Like hell you don't. I know you sent those guys over last night.
Maurice: I'm hurt, Tess. I wouldn't do that to you.
Tess simply turns, leaving back the way she had come.
Tess (speaking aloud as she climbs the fence): Get the payment delivered to the drop point in Area 2. Consider your job done.
Maurice and his guards snicker and talk loudly as she walks away. Tess's hands clench in fists, jaw tight as she heads back home.
May 11, 2016
Outskirts of Boston, Massachusetts
Three years after the CBI outbreak
Sun shines bright in the sky. The highway looks empty, abandoned. Creepers and wild plants grow and cover the sides of the roads, poke out from between cracks in the tarmac. Tess is seen riding an old bike, her short hair fluttering in the gush of wind. A rifle pokes out of her backpack, and a pistol sticks out from the back of her jeans. She stops the bike as a sign comes up in the distance, reading : You are entering Lincoln.
She stops her bike next to the sign, glances around seeing that there was no other way to enter the town. She climbs down the highway end, lands on her feet into the woods. With pistol drawn out, she walks across and enters the deserted town.
The buildings were small, all abandoned. A mandatory evacuation notice sat in the middle of the road. She explores the town a little, gathering whatever supplies she could find. She takes in with a bemused smile the garden of gnomes, brushing her fingers on the porcelain. Her lips bend in a frown, her eyes squinting suspiciously as she scans the town. She pulls out the paper from her back pocket, and reads.
Tess: Pick up location . . Music store. Marquis . .
She puts the paper back in and walks down the empty street, warily. She walks past abandoned liquor stores and diners, and at the end of the street, finds the said music store. She walks up to the entrance reluctantly, and stands in front of it, getting on her toes to glance at the insides. It looked empty, deserted like any part of the town. Her eyebrows bend in obvious irritation.
Tess: Hello? Anybody here? . . I'm here for Maurice's package!
She waits, but receives only silence in response. Footsteps echo behind her, and she turns to find a man looking out the window of a diner. He had a rifle pointing down at her, a gas mask covering his face. His hair was long and dark, falling to his shoulders.
Man: Get on your knees.
Tess (raising her arms up in the air, slowly): I'm just a smuggler. Just give me the package and I'll leave.
Man: I said get the fuck down on your knees, woman!
Tess glares at the man, but does as told. She puts her pistol down on the road beside her, and rests on one knee. The man disappears from the window, and shortly appears at the entrance, walking out towards her with the rifle pointed at her forehead.
Man: Who the fuck are you?
Tess (her voice low, speaking carefully): I'm a smuggler from Boston. I'm here to collect a package from Maurice. If you'll just let me show you the papers . .
The man gestures with his rifle, to show him. Tess pulls out the papers slowly, and hands it over to him. He examines them, rifle still pointed at her head, and then throws them away.
Man: I don't know no Maurice. Tell me the truth, who sent you and why?
Tess looks at him, befuddled. She gulps, her eyebrows scrunching as she searches for words in her head, confused.
Tess: Maurice sent me. He said look for Pete!
The man tensed even more, bending further in his defensive stance as he shook the rifle at her.
Man: Who the fuck is Pete? Don't you play games with me lady, I swear to god I won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head!
Tess (voice getting louder): I swear! Well . . Th-then they set me up! I was sent here to get a package-
Man: Shut up!
Tess fell quiet, biting her lower lip. Her face twists in anger and fear, as she remembers Maurice and his dogs snickering at her yesterday. She looks at the man, and sees his finger shaking at the trigger.
Man: For fucks sake . .
He slowly lowers his gun, stepping away from her. He picks up the papers again and reads them, apparently going over each and every word to get any sense out of them. He turns and points the rifle at her again, but Tess is already standing, her pistol pointed at him, her teeth grinding together.
Tess: Put the gun down now.
Man: So you can blow my brains to bits? I don't think so!
Tess: Take me to Pete, and we can put this misunderstanding behind us.
Man: There's nobody else in this whole fucking town, except me. Get to the point!
They stare at each other, guns pointed straight in apprehension. Tess grinds her jaws together, and then curses under her breath.
Tess: Guns down on three?
The man looks reluctant, jumpy. He shakes the rifle at her.
Man: Alright.
Tess (eyes fixated on him): One . .
Man: Two . .
Tess: . . . Three.
They lower their guns at once, and Tess relaxes. The man puts his gun back in his holster, and Tess does the same. The man pulls away the gas mask, revealing old, grey eyes, a boxy face and a salt and pepper beard.
Man: Did you take anything from my town?
Tess (reluctantly): No.
Man (Giving her a once-over): . . Good.
The sky falls to a shade of orange and pink, blending to dark blue with a few stars twinkling. The man turns and begins to walk away, back to the diner.
Tess: You sure you're not Pete?
Man (turning back): Fuck's sake. The name's Bill! There ain't no Pete here, and never has been!
Tess (scowling, mumbling to herself): I don't fucking get it . .
Bill: They got you, lady. There's been nobody here in this entire town for three years. The only people that live here besides me, are infected. Whoever sent ya . . Well they want you dead!
Tess (muttering to herself): That motherfucker . . He's gonna pay so bad for this, his balls will never see daylight again . .
Bill (looking amused): Your beef. Get along now, get the fuck outta my town. A few infected got out last week and I'm pretty sure they're lurkin' around.
Tess glances at the sky, and then back at the man as he walks into the diner. She looks at the empty road, the ends already engulfed in twilight darkness. She follows him reluctantly to the entrance of the diner. She holds the door just as he closes it, and meets his eye unfazed through the narrow opening.
Tess: Let me stay for the night, and I'll give you three pistol mags.
Bill (with a bemused grin): I got enough ammo, lady. Besides, I ain't interested in women. Even if I was, you're too skinny for me.
Tess (shaking her head once, unamused): What do you need? I can't make my way back now. It's already gettin' dark out here.
Bill: Oh, afraid of the dark, are we?
Tess purses her lips, glaring at him challengingly. She remembers the downtown area she had to get through in the afternoon to come to the outskirts. The place was teeming with infected, and in daylight, it was relatively safer. With nightfall, there was no force on Earth that could make her go through those parts all alone.
Bill: You got some fuel?
Tess: There's some in my bike back on the highway.
Bill (after a moment of deep thought): Alright. You can stay. I'm gonna lock you in a room and you'll lay there and make no noise, you hear?
Tess's jaw tightens as he opens the door wide, his prospects bringing up suspicion in her. She pats her pistol behind her, and reassuring herself, walks into the dank building, following him through the empty hall and collapsed tables. Bill lights a hurricane lamp on a table. Tess explores the place with her eyes, unimpressed. She touches a pile of newspapers and books on a nearby table, taking one into her hand and opening it to read. Bill turns, clearly annoyed.
Bill: Hey, don't fucking touch anything!
Tess (pulling her hands back immediately, slightly surprised): Alright, alright . . sorry.
Bill: Good . . What do they call ya?
Tess (easing down a little at the interaction Bill had taken a step towards): Name's Tess.
Bill: Get the fuck inside the room, Tess.
Tess follows his hand into the room, and stands beside a dirty mattress as he repeats instructions to her. She glances at the window, and sees that it could be pulled up. If needed, she could break through. With a sigh of relief, she nods at him as he shuts the door and locks it from the outside.
May 13, 2016
Boston, Massachusetts
Three years after the CBI outbreak
Tess walked down the street, making her way to the ration line. Everybody that saw her now regarded her with a sense of fear, and respect. They nodded at her, or immediately turned their eyes away as she walked by. Two men regarded her with discreet glances as she walked past. Their conversation reaches her ears through the chatters of the roads.
Man 1: Man, that's one smuggler you don't wanna mess with.
Man 2: Oh yeah? Bet I could take her down with one hand.
Man 1: That's what Maurice thought. Where is he now?
The conversation dies in the background as she walks away, joining the ration line as people made way for her. Her tell-tale, dangerous smirk made them avert their eyes.