Chapter 12:

The Long Road Ahead

Dear God, that was a long break. Any way, for all eleven fans still interested in the story, I shall persevere! Or perhaps, delay the procrastination, NEVERTHELESS, the story will go on. Since my last update, I joined the Navy, found love, and a bunch of other BS that I could just bore your little hearts out with. Hail Sithis!

Johnson decided to stay in Reno for just a little bit longer. His only concern was making sure that both he and Davidson would be supplied for such a long journey east. Ammo, food, and water was an absolute necessity, medicine was a secondary. While trading with some of the merchants, he was able to find a few water tablets of rad-away. That would come in great handy when it came time to fill water in the various rivers and creeks that dotted the land. After this, Johnson hit up the nearest scavanger. Too his relief, the man actually had an old road atlas of the United States. This would be the most useful thing Johnson could hope for when it came time to navigating this wasteland. Looking at his options, he saw he had three possible courses of action on how to proceed.

A. He heads north through Idaho, Montana, the Dakotas, and eventually through the Great Lakes. At the Great Lakes, he would be able to make it to Chicago, then go from there.

B. Head straight east from this position. It would cut across the former states of Nevada, Kansas, parts of Nebraska, Colorado, and many other "fly over" central states. A major downside to this is that once they hit the real central US, there would be little to no signs of anything. Few streams or rivers, no major cities barring the occasional straggler, not to mention a complete lack of natural scavenging opportunities to live off the land.

C. Cut South near the former states of Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, and the formerly occupied Mexican Territory. An obvious negative to this would be the desert. Although there would be more former cities than in the central US, these cities would be completely barren. Without the technology and irrigation systems, it is likely that the desert had either already reclaimed the towns, or was in the process of doing so. Not to mention, exposure and hydration would be constant threats to his survival.

Johnson explained to Davidson these situations and what his advice was. They both agreed that although it might get chilly in the North, it was ultimately their best course of action. The cities were pretty infrequent, but the natural resources could compensate very well. Not to mention, also in these northern areas were several missile silos, and military bases that the Army had used as a staging ground during the Annexation of Canada, and the Reclamation of Alaska.

Before they left Reno, however, Johnson decided to pay a "little visit" to their friend in the casino. Turns out Jenner had actually recovered from his chest wound. The unfortunate ability of pre-war body armor could be blamed.

"Well well, you little shrew. Good to see we only lost one knucklehead. Any way, I believe you had mentioned something about a reward for us for doing this?" Johnson inquired.

"Now now, my associates would not be pleased if you didn't help us purge the rest of the filth form the streets. I mean look, could you honestly say that what lies out there is worth maintaining? If we don't do something to stop the crime and drugs, then no one will!"

"That's not my problem. My only problem is heading east to find my Eden and my Eve. Either you can be part of the problem, or the solution. If you would like to be part of the problem, then I'd love to introduce you to a Russian friend of mine. Name is Vasily, you may have met."

"You...You don't scare me. You're a soldier! You wouldn't dare harm an innocent!" Johnson chuckled and shook his head.

"I am a soldier of many colors. The flag I once served is now long gone. There is no order out here. The only law is the law of natural selection. There are those who adapt to the situations the best, and those will be successful in this New America. There are those who will be unable or unwilling to deal with the situation at hand. They will serve as stepping stones for the ascent of greater men."

"Who does that make you then?"

"Well, in my opinion, I'm just one just man trying to do right in an unjust world. Or perhaps, I am an unjust man doing harm to a just world. It is not my place to decide. You're making it awfully difficult for me, but I am biting my tongue. Now, I am asking you, please, just pay me my dues, and I will go. I don't want to have to take them, but I will do whatever it takes to get them and get out."

"Very well. I'll have your payment ready for you, you thug. Get your mercenary's compensation then get out." Johnson nodded. Shortly later, his payment was brought to him. It included more of the useless, godforsaken bottle caps. In addition to this, he was given a small satchel filled with stimpacks and Med-X. There was a case filled with 5.56 ammunition which would certainly come in handy for his Marksman Carbine. Finally, he got an assortment of various ropes, sharpening blocks, screwdrivers, and other materials which could be improvised into maintenance tools, or really whatever he needed at the time. Johnson grabbed what he could, then went outside and told Davidson to grab more. Knowing that Davidson was the medic, he intelligently gave the first-aid satchel to him. Davidson made a remark, but wore it. The two then ventured forth onto the unknown world that surrounded them.

The road out of Reno was that of a former highway, but the desert reclamation could already be seen sending out its various feelers to probe the highway for weaknesses. Mother nature intended to fully reclaim what was hers, and would always be hers. Sands of the desert covered the road, and the surrounding barrel cacti could be seen creeping into the former asphalt. The asphalt itself was marked with potholes and chippings. It too was a relic of the old way of life. The highway was dotted with the husks of various burned out vehicles. As Atomic Fire had rained down all around them, people had attempted to flee from the cities and make a dash for the country side. If a car in the front was stopped, then all of those behind that car were also stopped. What had happened to the drivers? Well that varied as much as the atoms that once held them together.

Taking a sip from a water bottle, Johnson noticed a nearby creature. It was unlike anything he had seen before. It was a large...ant? It scurried about, doing whatever it is that large ants do in their spare time. It was disinterested with whatever it was the two men were doing in the middle of a desert, it merely walked back and forth. During Johnson's observations, it was most strange when a rodent of unusual size decided to poke its head out as well and scurry towards the ant. Realizing that it had made a terrible miscalculation, the rodent then darted the other way, however its fate had already been sealed. The ant ran for the kill, and...shot fire from its mouth? Again, Johnson decided that approaching a gigantic, dragon/ant hybrid was probably a bad idea and told Davidson to keep walking.

Nevada was a large unforgiving place in apocalyptic America. The sun bore down as though its glare insured that nothing and no one would ever escape its angered gaze. At the same time, it was this intense stare which made sure the bigger critters didn't come out at night. Like the old saying, only gringos and donkeys walk in the mid-day sun. There was a large depletion of the donkey supply, so that just left these couple of gringos to do all the walking. However, if they kept a pace like this, it wouldn't be long until they left Nevada and onto the next uninhabitable state in the ass end of nowhere.

"Psst, hey boss man, check it out," Davidson suddenly said. Johnson lowered himself to the ground and looked out.

"What the hell you talking about? Ain't nothing out there but sand, and some weird freaky sci-fi critters," Eric spat.

"No, no, come on, looky looky," Davidson gave the good old knife hand out on the horizon, Johnson squinted, and he could make out the edge of a building.

"Still nothing."

"Ah yeah, I forgot, here look in this," Davidson handed Johnson his rifle, it had a nice scope with a 10x zoom. Johnson's vision came in clearly, and suddenly, not only did a small village come in on the horizon, but a bunch of little people. Another settlement. Hooray. I thought the end of the world was supposed to thin the population?

"Well, I suppose we ought to head that way, maybe trade or something, I dunno."

"Not so sure boss-man. Don't know how long you've been playing this game, but there are PLENTY of people out there not as friendly as the assholes we've met. I've been shot at simply for walking in the wrong direction before with no warning. I think we should stick clear and just keep moving."

"Come on, you can clearly see the people over there just waltzing about in the streets, you're gonna tell me that those guys are bad-boys?"

"I ain't telling you nothing, I'm just saying there is a possibility that those are some bad eggs."

"Whatever, come on man, let's go." Johnson shrugged off as they continued toward the town. Davidson held his rifle in his hand, ready for whatever was there. Johnson too held his rifle out, but he still wasn't suspecting hostilities in the town. Scanning the surroundings, he could see the remnants of the battered road they were walking on, and it led straight into town. He decided that there was no better way for them to advance, one way or another they'd have to follow this road, this long strip of civilization in an uncivilized world. Johnson had no desire to stray from the only surefire way to navigate his way back to hope, freedom. With his end goal inside, Johnson lowered his weapon, but made sure to continue holding onto it as he walked across the pavement and approached the town. One of the people spotted at him, and started shouting and waving his fists in the air, signaling the others. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and Johnson's pace began to slow. He continued scanning ahead, a small crowd beginning to pull itself together.

"Boss-man, I don't think they made a cake for your arrival..."

"What in the name of fuck..."

"Who does this gringo think he is? This is Perez turf..."

"Shut the hell up guys!" A young girl barked from the back.

"Did a woman just speak? Who the hell..." The voice was interrupted by a gunshot.

"Holy hell, they're shooting at us!" Davidson yelled suddenly as he dropped to the floor.

"Let's kick some ass!" Johnson growled, thrusting a fist into the air as he brought his rifle to bear on the enemy.

"Hooah!" Johnson dropped to a prone position and begin sighting each target, he gently squeezed the trigger as he fired at them, hot, fresh and ready 5.56 NATO rounds slicing through the air until they bit into their targets. Oddly, the targets fell to the ground the opposite way he would have thought they would.

"Boss, typically when I kill bad guys, they fall away from me. This is not how you science." They rose to their feet and began shuffling towards the town, silence falling on the battlefield. They scanned the horizon and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just some good old fashioned dust, debris, and the occasional tumbleweed to mix things up a little. The horizon was clear, so the team rushed into the town. Johnson crouched and covered as Davidson was the first to enter the town. Thinking he saw movement, Johnson locked his eyes on a collapsed structure.

"Oof!" Davidson grunted as he fell to the ground, Johnson rapidly turned around and locked eyes with a blue-eyed stranger, as was common courtesy in the new world, Johnson butt-stroked them with the end of his rifle. Whack! The blow was hefty, but the stranger only slightly fell backwards. It was then that he saw the revolver. A beautiful and pristine .357 Magnum. Before being star-struck, Johnson's adrenaline kicked in, and he tackled the stranger to the ground just as the shot rang out with a bang. The bullet clipped Johnson in the shoulder, but the armor took the majority of the blow. As he brought his fist down on the opponent's head, they moved slightly to the side, Johnson's fist meeting dirt. It was then that the opponent reversed and twisted Johnson off, and drew a knife. With him on the floor, they began to bring the knife down slowly towards his neck. Johnson's strength held firm, and he fought the stranger for every inch of ground. His hands holding tightly onto theirs, but to no avail. The metal fang begin slowly but steadily approaching his neck. The supernatural strength by the guy gently plunging the cold harsh steel closer and closer. Just as it began to prick the skin, the stranger was thrown off as Davidson returned back and tackled them. Johnson quickly jumped to his feet and drew his sidearm, pointing it at the stranger as Davidson pinned them on the ground.

"Don't move asshole, or I will fill you with more holes than a chain-link fence!" Johnson stated, the perpetrator lying there unmoving.

"Get off..." They growled. Johnson nodded, and the Davidson came to his feet, brushing himself off.

"Get up, nice and slow..." Johnson ordered.

"Don't tell me what to do!" The stranger replied, stubbornly lying on the ground still. Johnson cocked his pistol. "Alright...Fine..." the stranger slowly came up. They were wearing some form of duster, and a tan balaclava around their face, the only thing visible being the two blue eyes glaring at Johnson. On their head, an old torn, brown leather hat; similar to ones that used to be in spaghetti westerns, but the years clearly wearing on it.

"Take off the mask..." The stranger sighed loudly, then hesitated for a moment before pulling it off slowly. Long blonde hair fell out of the balaclava, it was dirty blonde, but curly from being cooped up for so long.

"Well I'll be damned..."

"Davidson, go stand in the corner." Johnson ordered.

"Yes boss..." Davidson walked away, inspecting the bodies.

"So, who the hell are you, and why are you here?" The woman beckoned at the gun, then shook her head.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you any manners? Come on, we can be civil here..." Johnson lowered the sidearm, but kept it out just in case. The stranger sighed and began to explain. "My name is Keenan West, I'm...Let's just say...a cop. Guessing by the fact I'm still alive, and the fact you don't seem to be filthy, you're not one of these guys."

"A Police officer? This world is nothing but a world of bullying and manipulating, there are no police any more."

"Not exactly a police officer, but not quite a vigilante, sorry but I'm not going to give you more than that. Shoot me if you like" Keenan looked back in a cold, unflinching stare.

"Who were these guys?" Johnson manipulated his head towards half dozen dead bodies.

"Local 'gang' if you could call it that, been harassing the folk around here for a few months, had to...take care of them. Tracked them down to this hideout to finish them off, now who are you, and who's you're little minion?" West asked defiantly, bobbing her head side to side.

"Name's Pitt, and your ass ain't talkin' your way out of this."

"I heard the quarter pounder is also known as El Royale with Cheese"

"There is no way you just understood a Pulp Fiction Reference. Haven't TVs gone like the Unicorn on us because of...I dunno...The end of the friggin world?"

"It's a long story, anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"Well, we're both Army Rangers, embedded with the government right now, on our way headed East, a dog away from home I reckon."

"Pah! There is no government, that's preposterous!"

"You'd be surprised..."

"So, I assume you're just the advance force and pretty soon they'll all fly in and start distributing water bottles and we can all go home?"

"Not quite. Say, did you mention there is a town near here? The knucklehead and I could use a good place to relax for a while, we've been walking for forever."

"I don't know man, I don't know, I'm not exactly a guiding angel, more like a nomad." Keenan raised an eyebrow to his request.

"Hey, we can pull our weight, we both have military training, and enough ammo to sustain a small army, c'mon, let's go kick some ass."

"Fine, but JUST to Acadia, then you two pricks can bugger off. I got better things to do." Johnson offered his hand out in a handshake, but the odd ball just looked down, and grabbed her revolver curtly from the ground, gently blowing the dust off while carefully eyeing Johnson, gauging him like a shark to another shark. She gently sheathed her revolver into its holster in the side of her belt.

"Chucklefuck! We're rollin' out!" Johnson called to Davidson who had been poking a dead guy.

"Hot diggity dog! Let's move!" The sun began gently falling on the terrain, cloaking the surrounding terrain in a veil of darkness. So much soot in the atmosphere, the moon was long gone. Such an advanced form of darkness on the Earth wasn't seen on the surface, and Johnson never could get used to the cave-like blackness. Davidson clicked on a flashlight on his sidearm.

"No," West replied quietly, "no lights." Davidson grumbled something before switching it off, inky darkness swallowing the team once again. "We're close."

"How in the hell..." Johnson scanned the terrain and saw absolutely nothing. Suddenly, the town practically leapt out of nowhere. Small buildings dotting the terrain. It was a large settlement, much larger than Ashling. There was clearly a clinic, a full market place, a butcher, and many houses dotting it. "This way." West stated and lead them into a large, dark house.

That is where we'll stop this long procrastinated chapter. The sad truth is that time just got away from me...Since May...Yeah, I know, feel free to slap me. Any who, I feel writey, so I'll probably start updating again. My eight fans can rejoice! Remember to stay beautiful everybody, and comments are absolutely spectacular.