Alright, second chapter.
Hadn't planned on having intro scenarios, but I started to like the idea and it might make the storyline go quicker.
"Recon one returning."
"Roger, opening gate."
The distance that they were from the complex was still close enough that they could hear the whirring of the mechanism as the large, rusty gate was cranked outward, allowing them entry. Inside of the walls was a fortress of impressive size, housing a large number of survivors.
"The lights are off," Jules pointed out, watching the beams of flashlights soar across the yard.
The hardened sniper nodded, watching the area for any signs of danger.
The walls were thick and well made, crafted from steel patchwork panels and concrete, surrounding the military style Quonset huts the founders had disassembled and moved here.
Everyone outside of the huts were busy helping. One group was strengthening the wall near the gardens while another was crowded around several generators.
"You think Fuchsia will be back, Franklin?"
He shrugged, "Depends on whether or not she found anything."
Jules nodded, "I guess it would be a stretch."
A man carrying a rifle ran towards them, "Hey, Mack is looking for you."
"What now?" Jules asked with an aggravated sigh.
The man shrugged and continued running, heading toward the gate they just entered.
Changing their course to the hut the man had just left, they walked inside to find Mack standing at a candle lit table with several other people.
"Here they are," he said as he left the group and met them near the entrance.
"So, how'd it go?"
Franklin shrugged, keeping the rifle cradled in his arms, "Couple bambis, few zombies, nothing worth taking."
He nodded, "Well, it can't be helped. We'll need to start looking farther away then."
"Any news on Fuchsia?" Jules asked, figuring Franklin wouldn't bother asking.
Mack shook his head, "Afraid not, radio's been down all day. The generators are on the fritz, see if there's anything you can do to help. We need the electric fences back online."
"Sounds simple enough."
"Let's hope it is," Mack said, turning to leave, "Good job on the search."
They walked into the moonlight and started back the way they came.
"It's not so bad," Jules said as they walked, "The walls could be a little bigger, but it's a nice place."
"I could go either way."
"It'd be better if you were more outgoing," he replied, "These people think you're the damned reaper."
The group looked toward them and fell silent when they approached.
"Mack sent us, said you were having some problems."
One of them looked to Franklin then nodded slowly, "Yeah, the damn runners shut off, been down since this morning."
Jules crouched and started looking at the engine, finding no reason for it to quit.
Jules stood back up, "That's strange."
He nodded, "That's what we were saying, looked'em over inside and out."
Franklin tossed his DMR to Jules who scrambled to catch it. Kneeling, he unscrewed the fuel cap and stabbed his finger into the tank, the glove coming back dry.
"There's no fuel."
"Well," the man said, "I guess that'd do it."
"Run to storage," Franklin said as he took his rifle back, "Get a jerry can and a quart of oil."
"Come on, boys," the man said, obviously annoyed at being told what to do.
"The 'tard is strong with this one," he said with a shake of his head.
Jules watched them start toward the shed, "Well, I didn't notice it either."
"I expect it from you, they've spent the whole day staring at generators with no fuel."
The group had just reached the bottom of the incline when they began sprinting toward the back wall.
"Now what are they doing?"
Franklin turned toward the front gate as a guard tumbled backwards off the wall.
The realization hit him as he tackled Jules to the ground and rolled them both behind the row of generators.
A second later the sound of the rifle reached them.
The inexperienced shooters on the wall began to spray bullets into the tree line nearest the camp.
Jules tightened his helmet and pulled his binoculars from his pack, "What the hell's going on?!"
Franklin had already removed the covers from the scope and began scouting the area, "It was a setup, they sabotaged the generators so the defenses would be down."
The spot where the generators were gathered was on the apex of a rise in the ground. The rise wasn't too large, but it gave them enough clearance to see over the walls for a distance.
"Go and get the fuel, I'll cover you."
Jules nodded, "Right."
There was a break in fire at the wall, the faint sounds of magazines dropping to the ground reached him on the wind. Another rookie mistake.
Looking through his scope showed faint movement in the distance but there was not enough light to show the cause.
The clattering of metal came from behind, causing him to roll over.
"Got the fuel!" Jules yelled as he quickly unscrewed the caps.
Franklin estimated the amount of oil needed and poured it into the tank of the generators. Quickly filling them with regular fuel, they began to pull the cords, the engines sputtering but eventually powering the lights.
One of the guards began to rotate the searchlight to scan the area. Almost immediately, it was shot. The rest of them followed suit, plunging them back into darkness.
"At least we got the grid back up."
He slid the barrel through a gap made between two of the generators and looked through the scope. The movement he seen was closer and seemed to move through the path they had followed to return. Suddenly, headlights appeared on the path and the vehicles sped forward, approaching the front gate.
"I need targets."
Jules nodded and raised the binoculars, "Front vehicle, 200m and closing. Two in cabin, unknown amount in back."
Holding his breath he adjusted for the distance and fired.
The bullet pierced the windshield on the passenger side, making it become darker.
"Kill shot. Vehicle one, driver."
Another adjustment, another shot.
The vehicle veered off the trail and collided with a tree, overturning and landing on it's side. The bandits in the back went flying from the vehicle rolling and were littered with rifle fire from the guards on the wall.
"Kill shot, vehicle one down."
Jules continued marking the targets, finishing off the snipers in the tree line before they killed all of the guards on the wall.
"Last vehicle," he called out, scanning the area he seen it last.
"Where is it?"
A loud scratching sound reached them as the gate smashed aside and the vehicle plunged through the entrance, speeding toward them as the guards turned to fire.
"50 and closing!" Jules yelled as it sped towards them.
Franklin took a deep breath and fired, killing the driver.
"Driver down!"
Without a driver, the vehicle began to swerve but still made it's way to them.
"We've gotta move!" Jules yelled, moving to stand.
Franklin rose to a crouch, unable to take his shot through the gap, and leveled his rifle, not showing a sign of avoiding the collision.
He fired, everything slowing down as he watched his shot. The bullet flew through the air, finding it's mark in the passenger side tire.
The truck abruptly turned to the right and followed the slope of the hill, rolling over and becoming airborne. Franklin grabbed Jules and forced him to the ground behind the generators as it tumbled over them, landing inches away and continuing down the other side.
Jules shook his head, panting as he rose to his feet, "Man, that was intense!"
Franklin was already walking to the truck with his Makarov drawn, the faint pops of the silenced weapon barely audible amid the shouting of orders.
"Let's get to the gate," Franklin said as he reloaded, "Mack's gonna be pissed, and we need to keep the zombies away."
Jules sighed and looked back to where the truck ignited and began to burn, "You're probably right."
They started walking as it exploded.
"This has been a lousy, fuckin' day."
[][][]
[][ Day Z][]
[][Reaper Of The Wastes Ch.2: Broken Wings][]
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With a yawn he pulled on a white t-shirt and walked to the cabinet where he opened a half full liquor bottle and grabbed a coffee mug. Pouring from the bottle until it was empty, he tossed it across the room where it shattered on the stone floor.
He swirled the contents of the mug and gulped down half of it while he moved to the doorway and looked into the bright morning sun.
Looking over the courtyard, he sipped from his mug, remarking on the fact that it remained zombie free. The massive stockpile of weapons crates and vehicles appeared untouched, but he seen the flaps of a military tent moving.
Squinting to make sure he wasn't imagining it, he tilted his head. Knowing he was actually seeing it, he leaned out of the doorway and held his finger up, shaking his head at the lack of wind.
"Now I have to deal with this," he said, downing the rest of his drink and grabbing the rifle that was leaning against the wall.
Tossing the mug onto a nearby table, he turned the bolt up and checked it was loaded. Dropping a few loaded stripper clips into his pocket, hoping he wouldn't need them, he rested the rifle on his shoulder and stepped outside.
The warmth of the sun washed over him as he walked, reminding him of the reason he made this place his home. Despite the world going to shit and zombies roaming the alienated country, the fact you can find peace in a place like this is amazing.
And now he'd have to disrupt it.
He stopped near the door flap and listened, the quiet voices inside not sounding hostile. Deciding it wasn't typical bandits, he stepped inside and waited.
"… Get the packs loaded and get to the wall." a feminine voice whispered down the section of the tent.
Turning to head to the exit, she seen him standing there, immediate fear creeping over her face. She dropped the bag and quickly drew a pistol from behind her, leveling it on his chest.
"Don't come any closer!"
He kept the rifle over his shoulder, noticing the faint pounding of footsteps toward another exit, "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you."
"You're damn right, you're not! We found these supplies, they're ours!"
"Actually," he said, taking a step closer, "This is my castle, and those are my supplies. I can shoot you without losing an ounce of sleep."
"I said don't move!"
He adjusted the orientation of the rifle slightly and pulled the trigger, the report deafening inside the closed space.
The woman flinched and nearly dropped the pistol.
"Hey," he yelled loud enough for the man outside to hear him, "If you do what I think you were about to, the next one won't be a warning shot. Come in slowly."
After a few moments, the flap was moved aside, the bullet hole inches from where the man's head had been.
"Alright, alright! Please, don't shoot us!" the man said, his arms in the air.
The woman still had her pistol aimed at him, but he glanced backwards, "Nice iron, cowboy. Toss it on the counter and tell her to point the gun away from me."
Moving slowly, he did as was told and set his revolver down. He walked to where the woman was and put his hand on the weapon.
He knew she couldn't pull the trigger, but he was unsure of the man, so he slung the rifle down and chambered another round, shaking his head.
At length the man nodded and took the pistol from her, setting it beside his own. Defenseless, the woman broke into tears and nearly collapsed. The man went to her side and began whispering, occasionally glancing toward the gunman.
He stepped forward and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and restrained the couple together. Leaning his rifle against the table, he picked up the woman's pistol. Dropping the magazine shown it was empty. Racking the slide proved it was. Shaking his head, he replaced it and grabbed the revolver to check it's cylinder.
One of the six chambers were empty and four of the remaining shells had been fired.
Ejecting them, he dropped the empties onto the ground and slid the good one into his pocket. Setting it beside the pistol, he picked up the bags they had loaded and carried them to the table where he began emptying them.
Tossing the bags aside, he returned to the intruders and crouched in front of them, "Is there anyone else I need to know about?"
The man shook his head, "No, only us."
He nodded, glancing back to the entrance, "How'd you get in?"
"W-we had to kill a few zombies, cut the barbed wire and climb through the crack in the wall," the woman replied, having calmed down slightly.
With a sigh, he stood up, "Fred and George..."
"Fred and George?"
He nodded, "The zombies. They make great guards, some can even fire weapons. Not smart enough to reload and they aren't the best at conserving ammo, but they do the job."
Picking up his rifle, he adjusted the sling and walked out of the tent. Walking the short distance to the crack in the wall, he peeked around the corner. He could see the cut wire through the narrow gap and seen their car sitting farther down the hill near the bodies of his machine gun wielding guards.
Returning to the tent, he tossed the handcuff keys on the ground in front of them, "Why did you come here?"
The man grabbed the key and hurried to undo their restraints, "Everyone says this place is off limits, so we figured there might be some good loot here. We weren't wrong."
He nodded, "There's a reason you're not supposed to come here. I usually shoot on sight."
Rubbing the wrist where the cuff was attached, he rose to his feet, "What do you do with all this stuff? You have enough weapons to outfit an army, enough vehicles for a convoy five miles long, and enough supplies to fill a hospital!"
"I bring'em here, sort them, then bury them."
His jaw dropped slightly, "Bury them? Why?"
"The more I have, the less Anarchy has," he said while refilling the bags.
"But there's innocent people that need it just as bad!"
He glanced to the woman, then back to the bags, "I'm aware of that, but the more you have the bigger target you are. I don't completely enjoy collecting the stuff."
"What about the helicopter?"
"Ok, I actually enjoy that."
The man stood and watched him, unsure of what to do.
"Where did you come from, and how did you get here?"
The man cleared his throat, "We're from Polana, we have a group there. We drove up the back roads through Gorka."
"How many in this group?"
"About twenty," he replied hesitantly, "Are you giving us some gear?"
He shook his head, "I'm not giving you anything, we're gonna barter."
"Barter?"
Tossing the bag on the ground, he began to fill the second one, "That's right. On your way back, you stop through Grishino and Guglovo, tell everyone you see that Devil's Castle is empty and full of the dead. Then you go through Black Forest back to Polana and say you found everything in Stary."
The man looked to the woman who nodded in agreement, "Okay, we can do that."
"Good." he said while tossing the second bag beside the first.
Opening a large crate nearby, he grabbed several boxes of ammunition and began to load the pistols. Tossing the left over cartridges into the bag, he nodded towards them.
They quickly grabbed them and waited for their next command.
"I don't quite buy your story," he said as he handed the weapons back to them, "So I won't give you any more guns. And don't think about coming back. You do, you won't be leaving."
The man nodded, "I understand."
Leading them back to the hole in the wall, he waited until they made it through.
The man stopped near the wire and turned back, "What do you call yourself?"
He began moving a large crate to block the hole in the wall, "You've heard my name plenty of times."
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"I'm not having this discussion again," Ron said, turning away from the sun to get a better look at his clip board, "Supplies are too scarce to send more runners than we need, and after what the loner said last night, I don't want the reaper anywhere near here."
"You don't have to give me anything other than a gun and some ammo," she replied, shaking from the amount of control it took to keep from shouting.
He shook his head, "The answer is no. There's a lot of work to be done and we need as many people possible on watch."
Afraid she'd send a fist towards him if she kept looking at him, she shifted her gaze away and caught the sight of the stranger talking to a group heading to watch duty on the wall.
"Kovalsky hasn't left?"
Ron glanced up for a moment and nodded, "Decided to stay in the old hospital last night. Think he's about to go."
She nodded and moved to walk away but he stopped her.
"Remember what I said. He's bad news, the farther he is from here, the better."
Tearing her arm free, she walked away, sure he was watching her. The group dispersed and Brandon turned to leave.
"Excuse me," she said, causing him to stop and turn toward her.
Recognizing her, he cleared his throat, "Oh, hello."
"Are you getting ready to leave?"
He adjusted the rifle slung over his shoulder and checked the position of the sun, "Yeah, it's still pretty early, probably the best time to set out."
She nodded and looked at the ground for a moment, "Where were you planning on going?"
"I don't know yet," he said with shrug, "Probably head towards Polana, go from there."
"Would you mind if I go with you?"
"I'd enjoy the company, but I don't know if it's best for you to leave here where it's safe. Things can get pretty rough."
"I'll manage," she said, looking upward to show the determination in her eyes, "I just need to stop by the armory."
He was quiet for a few moments, but eventually nodded, "Alright, I'll be waiting by the gate."
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Tossing his rifle and a backpack through the gap, he squeezed his way through and stumbled into the outer courtyard. He picked up his rifle and slung it over his shoulder with the bag while he started toward the bodies of the dead zombies. Crouching, he inspected the bullet wounds and attributed them to be amateur at best. It took two shots to bring each one down and they had entered the castle with only one round left.
Shaking his head, he pulled the machine guns from their arms and pulled back the bolts, not seeing the belt for the shells anywhere nearby.
Dragging the bodies to a burning pit beside a small wooden shelter, he left them there for now and opened the wooden doors. There was a loud snarl and he stepped backwards as one of the penned in zombies lunged forward and tripped over his shackles.
Smiling, he sighed and grabbed the chains from the hook on the wall, "Aw, come on, Papiro! If you can't catch me, how can I trust you to keep an eye on things?"
Papiro struggled to stand, his bones popping and rotating under his moldy flesh, eventually needing a tug to bring him upright.
Looking back into the shelter, the remaining zombies shuffled back and forth, not as enthusiastic as the newly captured Papiro. He closed the doors and grabbed a large, thick piece of metal from the ground beside it and pulled on the chain to direct his new guard to his place.
"Okay," he said as he dropped the chains and slid his right arm through a set of bars he'd welded to the underside of the shield, "Here's your motivation."
Picking one of the guns, he loaded a belt of ammunition from his back pack into it but stopped before chambering the first round.
"You are a marine, the last of your squadron assigned to protect this castle. You are to kill anything except your superior officer, which is me."
Pulling the pistol from the back of his belt, he checked to ensure it was ready to fire and slid it into the left front pocket of his jeans. Lifting the machine gun toward Papiro who'd been staggering back and forth, he waited until the zombie was firmly grasping the gun.
Locking onto his lifeless eyes, he held the shield between them and slowly rack the bolt backwards but released it quickly to duck behind his cover, which he was right to do. As soon as the round loaded, Papiro gripped the trigger, the full auto fire of the weapon riddling the shield he hid behind.
"Damn it, Papiro!" he shouted while drawing his pistol, "Not cool!"
The recoil sent Papiro dancing in circles, sending bullets in every direction. Firing several shots to the zombie's arm provided enough force to take it's finger off the trigger.
As if confused by what happened, Papiro looked in several directions before settling on a mound of dirt nearby.
"That's better, you even managed to save more ammo than usual," he said, sighing out of relief.
Either not hearing him or just plain ignoring him, Papiro began to shuffle towards the barbed wire, eager to start his own adventure.
"Whatever, try not to trip over that belt."
Keeping the shield in a safe position, he started to the area where he stored the vehicles.
Alright, kinda long for my usual uploads, but at least it gave some more details on the characters.
Thanks for reading, I don't know when the next one will be up but it shouldn't take as long as this one did.