Chapter 2
When Ruby woke up, she found Yang slumped at her side. She was under a thick blanket made of something warm and furry. The same could be said about what she was laying on. The reaper slowly got up, rousing her sister from her half-sleep.
"Ruby! Are you okay? How are you feeling?" She was crushed by Yang's hug, but her sister released her when she realized her mistake.
"Sorry. How are you doing?" Ruby took a moment to gather her thoughts. "My head hurts a little bit, but I think I'm fine. Where are we?"
"In a cave." She turned to see Pyrrha sitting down against one of the walls. She was polishing the brown circlet she wore in her hair, a bit of a nervous habit of hers. "We've gathered that they brought us here after the ambush. They nursed us back to health, but now they won't let us leave."
Ruby looked around at the rest of her friends, all sitting around, helpless to do anything else. The only opening to the cave was a low entrance, barred off with a wooden gate. While the barrier itself wouldn't be much trouble, two guards were posted just outside. They were bald, wearing leather and hide clothes of blue, green and brown. They were both armed with curved wooden clubs and silver handguns, Colt 1911's by the looks of them, like that man in the armor had used. She turned to her sister, hoping for some sort of explanation. "We don't know much more than you do. I don't think Vytalian's even their first language. They just keep telling us to stay, wait and rest."
"Until what?" The young reaper asked. An unfamiliar, deep, monotone voice spoke, "Until I was brought here." They looked to the cave entrance, where the man in black and brown armor came in through the gate. He paused and turned to the guards, saying something in another language. They both nodded and promptly left. The figure then turned and stared at them. Yang got to her feet. "Who the hell are you?!"
"You saved us." Everyone turned to Ruby, who hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud. "Indeed I did. Don't feel too bad, though. The White Legs can be hostile towards newcomers. Believe me. I know."
"Understatement of the century." Weiss remarked. The armored man huffed, "As snarky as always, Schnee."
"Excuse me? How do you know my name?!" The heiress demanded.
"Who are you?" Ruby asked. To their surprise, he chuckled. "What, don't recognize your fellow leader, Crater Face?" He disconnected the air tube that was attached to his gas mask and lifted it and the helmet off his head.
His goofy grin and blue eyes hadn't changed. His hair was longer and a bit unkempt from going so long without a proper cut. What did change, though, was a long scar that ran along the bottom of his left jaw. It had faded somewhat, but it hadn't been there when they last saw him.
"Jaune." Pyrrha whispered, like if she said it too loud, he'd crumble into ash. The others couldn't believe what they were seeing either. He spoke again, "In the flesh." He smiled. The smile brightened as Pyrrha grabbed him in her arms and buried her face in his shoulder. "I was so worried!" She sobbed. Jaune held her, keeping her upright.
She looked smaller while they embraced, like he was trying to shield her from everything else. That did sound like Jaune. The others waited for Pyrrha to collect herself before more hugs ensued. Once he managed to unlatch Nora from him, he had everyone sit in a circle. He sat, too, and said, "I know you've all got a lot of questions. How I survived the fall itself and got to this place might take some time."
Three months ago...
Forty hours after initial fall...
When I woke up to the pounding ache within my own skull. Also, some junkie was waving a shaky gun in my face. Instinct took over, my hands snapping forward and wrenching the gun to my right. It went off, the noise nearly destroying my eardrums. I brought my knees to my chest and kicked the man, he lost his grip on the gun and fell back on his ass.
I got up and pointed the N99 at him, only to here several more firearms priming behind me. I turned around slowly. "Now what the hell is going on here, Ricky?!" An older, dark skinned man with a short beard demanded. He was dressed in a grey work shirt with stonewashed overalls. He held a pistol similar to the one 'Ricky' had tried to shoot me with.
With him were two women and another man. They were dressed in sets of brown leather armor. The women were equipped with a grenade launcher and the other with an old-looking caravaner's shotgun. The last man had a wood-framed hunting rifle.
I looked the old man in the eyes, "Your friend in the jumpsuit tried to kill me." I placed the gun on the ground, knowing that if I dropped it carelessly, Ruby would somehow appear next to me and slice me in two.
The man eyed me, then Ricky. "Alright. What are you doing way out here anyway? You get chewed up by an Ursa?" I looked down at myself. Indeed, most of my armor was gone, my favorite hoodie torn to shreds. My belt and small ammo pouch were still there, though. That meant...
Oh thank god!
My father's old Magnum BFR sat in the holster on my waist. I removed my hand from it before they thought I was making some sort of move. "I fell from a bullhead."
The man chuckled, "That so? Haven't been any 'round here for years. Then again, those nevermore were chasing after something the other day." My eyes widened. "The nevermores! That's what attacked our ship. Did they make it out?"
"Sure, the ship flew away like a bat outta hell, though. Don't think they'll be coming back. Where'd it come from, anyway?"
"Beacon. My team and another were sent to clear Grimm out from the area around Mountain Glenn."
"Beacon, huh? You must have a different kind of luck about you, kiddo. We're heading to Vale ourselves. You could always hitch a ride there."
Ricky got up and made a show of going around me and joining their group. "Are you crazy, boss?! We can't take some kid with us! W-we won't have enough, um, food, or-or supplies for an extra person."
The man, now named Jed, turned to the rambling man, "Well, I could always kick you out. If he could take your gun like that, he's probably a hell of a lot more useful than you've been this entire trip." That shut him up. Ricky went over to me, not making eye contact, and grabbed his pistol from the forest floor. He holstered it and scratched at his neck, then at his arm.
Jed came forward and shook my hand. "Jed Masterson. Welcome to the Happy-Trails Caravan Company. What's your name, kid?"
"Jaune. Jaune Arc."
"Well, get ready for a long road ahead of us, Jaune. The terrain ahead gets rough."
The paths we're following are slow going, so you might as well keep your ears open and listen to what ol' Jed has to say.
A few decades back, folks around Sanus started to hear about a community in the east called New Canaan. Didn't know much about them, except that they were religious folks. Sent out missionaries to talk to the native tribes around these parts. Now, humanity's seen its share of cults, but the New Canaanites, they were honest traders. Good fighters, too. Raiders wouldn't tangle with 'em. But then the White Fang appeared in the Valean territories. I reckon you know all about them. Turns out that one of their first war chiefs was a New Canaanite: Joshua Graham. Legend goes that Graham was the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the whole damned Fang. The New Canaanites wouldn't talk about him. They were ashamed. Guess I can't blame 'em.
Well, at the second battle of Fort Castle around four years ago, ol' Graham finally met his match. Valean generals Hanlon and Oliver kicked his New Canaanite butt right back over the Crimson River. The Fang's leader, who was only known as Taurus, had to make an example for the others, to show them that even at the highest level, failure wouldn't be tolerated. He had Graham covered in pitch, lit on fire, and thrown into the Grand Canyon. People say he didn't even scream on the way down. Not long after, some of the faunus and tribals started to talk. Said Graham wasn't dead. Shouldn't have been any surprise.
But all this talk bothered Taurus and the other higher-ups, so they forbade anyone from speaking his name. Wanted to erase Joshua Graham from history. They got their wish. Joshua Graham disappeared. And in his place came legends of the Burned Man walking the roads. Maybe its just a tribal ghost story. But New Canaan's been silent for a long time. Maybe it's a coincidence. Maybe the chief is dead.
Or maybe, Joshua Graham did crawl out of that canyon, and finally found his way back home.
One week since initial fall...
After days of walking, our little group emerged from a narrow pass in the mountains to be met with the midmorning sun. Once we cleared the opening, the caravaners and I stopped to rest. Jed addressed everyone.
"Alright, people. Been a long couple weeks, but here we are. Zion. I know your feet hurt, and I know you're tired. But I need everyone's minds on the trail ahead."
Stella stood, "Ain't the trail that worries me, Jed. Those descents we made, through that slot canyon back up there? Ain't no way we're gettin' back out the way we come. And then what?"
"Goddamnit, Stella, I heard you the first time. And the fifteenth, too!" He argued. They'd fought like this all evening the previous night. "The New Canaanites will know a way. And if they don't, we still have the maps on our friend's Pip-boy over there-"
Present
"Wait, what's a Pip-boy?" Ruby asked curiously.
"Oh, right. I doubt many know about them these days. They were these high tech, experimental computer-gauntlet-thingies from the Great War. They were extremely rare, but Ricky got this hands on an old, broken one. Except that he lied and said he could guide us through with its maps. The guy was basically the human equivalent of gas station sushi." Jaune spat. "I'd be happy to show you guys mine later."
"What? You've got a Pip-boy?" Weiss asked.
"Yep," Jaune said, "Found it in an abandoned fishing lodge. You guys wouldn't believe some of the stuff it can do. It's got a radio, a geiger counter, a map system-"
"Uh, Jaune, could we maybe get back to the..."
"Oh, right, yeah. Sorry." He cleared his throat.
"So, you were passed out for almost two days?" Blake asked. Jaune nodded, "According to Jed, yeah. I fell on the 24th, they found me on the morning of the 26th. I spent almost a week with them. I obviously didn't care for Ricky, but Jed and Stella became good friends."
"Where are they now? Nora asked. As night had started to fall, they'd moved into a bigger cave. Several fire pits had been dug, but theirs was the only one occupied by people. Jaune stared into it, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "They're dead. All of them."
One week since initial fall...
"Now, enough lollygagging! Get moving and keep an eye out for tribals!" Jed finished.
"Sorry to bother you with reality, ol' Jed," Stella muttered, "Who cares if we can't get back out the way we came? That's not a problem!"
I made sure my revolver was loaded and ready. When my father had given it to me, I was ecstatic. It had a dark wooden grip with a gold bear painted on, and a black receiver with the words "Against All Tyrants" etched along the barrel. It's name was Ranger Sequoia.
However, I'd grown to realize it's true use. It was first built during the years after the Great War, when tensions between kingdoms were at an all-time high. My grandmother had used it in her days with the Valean special forces, before she was discharged due to a bullet to the shoulder. I knew that this gun's main purpose was to kill people first, Grimm second. Given how frightening she could be today. I was shaken from my thoughts when our rifleman, Matthew,'s head exploded.
His body went limp and fell to the ground. I watched in horror as more bullets ripped into his flesh. Thankfully, Jed pulled me down behind a large rock and waited to return fire.
Maybe a dozen tribals, White Legs, judging by the white paint and twisted, braided hair, shot at us from the ridges to our north and our west flank. They'd waited for us. Nicole, the lady with the grenade launcher, tried to return fire, blowing a trio of shooters armed with SMG's off the mountain. She was killed a few seconds later.
I shot a few rounds with my revolver, managing to catch an attacker in the leg. He fell off the ridge and landed on his head with a sickening crack.
"I-I didn't sign up for this! My stupid Pip-boy doesn't even work!" I heard Ricky yell. Jed and I watched him make a break for the pass, but he was cut down, bullets ripping through his body like a hot knife through butter.
"Damnit Ricky! You sonofabitch!" Jed cried before running for Matthew's body. He grabbed the man's rifle and some magazines before tossing the armaments to me. Another barrage of gunfire cut off his path back to our rock, so he had no choice but to use his comrade's own corpse as a meat shield.
I covered him with the hunting rifle long enough for him to make it back. That's when Stella tried to run to our position. She didn't make it.
"Stella!" I yelled. Her body was limp, a large caliber bullet had taken her arm off and the second caved her chest in. I started to see red. These savages slaughtered the people who took me in and helped me for no personal gain to themselves, so if I was going down here, I'd make damn sure I'd take some of them with me. I thought I'd gotten the last of them, but then I heard a cracking noise. I turned to Jed to see a makeshift tomahawk made of railroad spikes and PVC piping sticking out of his chest. It must've broke through his ribs and hit a lung. Blood spurted from his mouth and he fell to the ground.
"J-Jed?" It was no use. He was gone too. I ducked under more gunfire as a couple more SMG wielders made their way down the ridge to me. I ducked and jumped down a short wall, making my way along a narrow lip. It was high above a river that ran parallel to the trail. I scurried over to a bridge that stretched across the gorge.
Once across, I took cover behind a dead log and reloaded my guns. I could hear them hollering at me and shooting their guns over my head. Suddenly, seven gunshots erupted simultaneously from my front and, when I peeked over the log, I saw the tribals fall over, dead. One even fell off the bridge and into the river below.
"Hoi! White Legs don't leave survivors often. You're some kind of lucky, let me tell you." I spun around quickly to see a young man, no older than I was, holding a smoking, silver handgun. "You came from outside, didn't you? From civilized lands?" He asked. I was too stunned to answer.
"Wow...Joshua will want to hear about this." He came closer and hoisted me too my feet. He was dressed in hide armor like the White Legs, but his was a mixture of brown, green and blue. His whole body was covered in dark tattoos and he had an old, brown baseball cap with a W on it.
"Uh, who's Joshua?" I asked, still in shock.
"Joshua Graham. He leads our tribe. Thanks to him, the Dead Horses are strong and safe from our enemies. He'll want to talk to anyone coming up from south-ways. Guess that means you, now. Come, I can take you to him."
Obviously, I was hesitant. This guy just comes from out of the blue and saves me, now he wants to take me to his leader? I looked across the wood bridge, seeing the smoking remains of the caravan and the bodies of the fallen. I didn't really have a choice.
"Alright. Let's go."
"Ah, goot sists. We head east, then. Joshua is at our tribe's camp in the Eastern Virgin." He started off, but I called out to him to wait. He looked at me expectantly.
"What's your name?" I asked as I caught up.
"I am called Follows-Chalk."