What Makes Us Strong
Chapter One: Discovery
My first published fanfiction….I'd greatly appreciate reviews.
Disclaimer: All your characters are belong to Jhonen! The idea of 'Rangers' was taken from the RPG Deadlands. Flames will be read and responded to politely.
Dib walked down the street, wondering if he'd find any food this time.
How long had it been now? A year? No, not quite. Ten months…maybe eleven. He wasn't sure. There was an old saying, wasn't there. "Time flies when you're having fun." Dib allowed himself a small chuckle at that. 'Fun' wasn't exactly the best word to describe his life.
It was a day in March, probably. Gray skies and gray scenery. No people were around—that was good. If people were around, the chance of him finding food and leaving would drop down to zero. If people were around, he'd be lucky to get out of the broken-down neighborhood alive.
Eleven months. He was pretty sure of that now. It'd been sometime in April last year when he heard the news. When he'd seen the smoke, the destruction, and the announcement….those few words said by a reporter only seconds before their violent death at the hands of a random criminal.
"America has fallen…"
Even now Dib didn't really know what had happened. A few weeks earlier, all the news on TV was about a peace agreement between America and some other country—wait. Not a country, a group. It just happened to be a very large group. Large enough to infiltrate the government and take over, large enough to destroy as many other governments as they could. America was the first. Japan came next, then Switzerland. Then France. After that, his family's TV had been stolen by some street criminals.
There were a lot of those lately. The group, whatever it was that they had done, managed to break open some maximum-security jails while they were at it. And those people broke open some more prisons, and THOSE people broke down some MORE….in a week, nearly all of America's criminals were on the loose. It was complete and total chaos.
His city had been pretty much taken over by gangs and psychos. The only reason Dib was still alive was his sister. Gaz didn't participate in the crime spree, but she'd scared away anybody that tried to attack her house. Age and size didn't seem to matter when she was involved. In a world where some ten thousand people can conquer some two billion and counting, what was an eleven-year-old girl against a thirty-year-old maniac? In any case, people tended to stay away from their home.
Professor Membrane had left them after the day in April, to go help. Not too long after that, Dib had received a letter in the mail. His father was MIA, presumed dead. Surprising, really, that the government was still able to send those out.
Now Dib had to go scrounge for food every once in a while. Gaz wouldn't—somebody had to stay and protect the house. So here he was, trying in vain to find the remainder of a fast food joint or grocery.
"Damn," he murmured. "Nothing. As usual. I guess I'll go search somewhere else…"
Dib heard footsteps behind him and turned. A man, probably in his forties, was standing about fifteen feet away. Taking no chances, Dib started running as fast as he could towards home.
But it was too late. The man tackled him down, pulling out a knife. "Keep quiet, kid, I don't want to have to make this harder than it has to be…."
"NO! Let me go! Leave me alone! NO!"
The man grunted and heaved Dib over his shoulder, ignoring the screams. "Just a job, kid, nothing personal. People pay real nice for little things like you. Can't say I like doing it, but the way I figure things, it'd just happen to you sometime anyway."
"Not if we have anything to do with it. Put the boy down, drop your knife on the floor, and place your hands where I can see them."
"Huh?" The man turned around to see a girl, wearing a trenchcoat much the same as Dib's with what appeared to be a black cowboy hat. "And what are you going to do about it, little girl?"
"You are resisting arrest, sir. Do as I say and things will go easier."
"Think you're cute, eh?" He pressed his knife to Dib's throat, making the boy's eyes widen with fear and horror. "I can slit his little throat and still get a good price, you know. Don't try anything stupid."
"Two charges of resisting arrest. Sixteen counts of kidnapping and child prostitution. Nine counts of murder. We have been looking for you for a very ling time, Mr. Andrews. If you surrender, then perhaps the judge will be merciful."
"Judge? What the hell are you talking abou…..oh, shit. Not you guys. Oh, shit, oh, shit…"
Dib wondered what the man was talking about. That girl seemed a little familiar…
"Are you ready to give up, Mr. Andrews?"
"Never! I ain't going down like this, girly, no way and no how…"
"The judge has sentenced you to execution. May God have mercy on your soul."
He couldn't see what happened next, but there was a gunshot. Two of them. Then the man holding him crumpled to the ground, red blossoming around his chest and leaking out of his shirt. Dib scrambled to his feet, hyperventilating partly at the sight and partly because of the narrow escape he'd just had.
"Who are you? Why'd you help me? And where'd you get THOSE?" The girl was holding a still-smoking revolver in each hand, her face calm and impassive.
"My weapons were assigned to me at my initiation. It is my job to help innocents in trouble. And my name is Zita. Yours is Dib, correct?"
"Yeah…" he said nervously. "ZITA? For crying out loud, you're not much older than me! I remember when you were in my class at skool….when we had skool. What are you doing with a pair of revolvers? And what do you mean by 'initiation' and 'job'?"
Zita sighed, walking closer. "In this chaotic world, the survivors are those smart enough to carry protection. If those survivors can help others learn that important lesson, then all the better. I chose to do my duty as a citizen of America, and take charge of the situation. I am a Ranger. Please, no more questions. Everything will be explained at headquarters. Follow me, please."
Dib looked around to see if there was the possibility of an ambush, then reluctantly headed after the black-clothed girl.
She stopped at the entrance to what had formerly been a parking garage. "Ranger Zita, reporting for duty with one confirmed associate by the name of Dib. Request access to command."
The concrete wall beeped, flickered, and revealed that it had in fact been a hologram. A gray cat with unusually red eyes walked up to them, scanned them over, and motioned them towards the now-apparent elevator. Dib stared. "Hey, isn't that…." "A modified SIR unit, complete with holographic generator. Based on a similar one that I'm sure you know quite well."
They stepped into the elevator, the cat pressing a few spots on the inside walls. The doors closed, and the elevator began its descent.
It was all Dib could do not to gape at the sight that met his eyes. As the elevator doors opened, a room that could have been used to house a thousand people was revealed. And, indeed, it seemed as though a thousand people were living there. Cots lined the walls, surrounded by desks and shelves. Machines he'd previously seen only in hospitals were there by the dozens, being used to the very limit of their ability on countless wounded. Children, teenagers, adults, and seniors were everywhere. And every one of them stopped to look at him.
Whispers filled the air. "It's him, isn't it? The boy! What was his name…Dib. The Wardens are going to flip when they find out…well, they probably already know, considering who's standing next to him. But he's here! He's finally here!"
Dib looked nervously at Zita. "They all look like they've been expecting me…how do these people even know I exist? And why are they here? Is this a shelter or something?" Zita merely nodded and led him towards a door near the back. "Questions later, Dib. Right now, there's some people that would like very much to talk to you."
The door was opened almost immediately by what appeared to be the same cat they'd seen earlier. This one was a little more battered, however, and wore a black collar. The room held a table, a few lamps, six chairs….and three people he'd never expected to see again.
"Hello again, Dib. I won't bother with introductions, since you know all of us already."
End chapter one! If you didn't catch all the not-so-subtle hints about who these mysterious three people are, then you are officially a banana slug. What that has to do with the matter, I'm not entirely sure. Anyway, like I said above, please review! It'll cheer up my meaningless existence and further prove that the world is not dominated by a giant AI that's out to get me.
