In the hearts of men beat a violent and bloody song that civilization cannot disguise. It is the song of death, and we are its player.
Prologue
We Are The Damned
The building was large, very large. Seventy-six stories known only as The Berth, and that's all anyone knows of them. Granite gray walls of reinforced concrete encased gold-tinted, shatter-proof glass far into the heavens. The building was originally the largest bank building in the state; originally. But that's where things got tricky. There was no more originally any more. Originally takes too long, brings back too many memories, and just isn't good for society.
Today, the Fifth Street Bank Building is only The Berth; and that's all it ever was. Thinking back on it, how you used to get coffee at the little place around the corner that was an old train car, or that fender bender you'd had with that reckless cabby, they didn't help anyone here. Everyone had a story, and none of them were good.
Red, for example, used to be a school janitor. His life wasn't exactly peachy before, but it was life. Now, he's my right hand man; my muscle if you will. Now, before you start asking why I'd have a "muscle", I'll clear that up. I'm not a crook. I'm a professional. No, I'm not one of those sycophantic supply runners who go storming into the darkness, shooting into the air and screaming Hail Mary's, but I do have a similar mission.
My mission is to check on stuff. I'm a checker. That's what I do. When the outpost in Cleveland went down, I was sent to check on it. When Fiddler's Green was overrun, I was sent to check on it. When New New York was being established, I was sent to oversee construction. When I'm out checking on stuff, I have to have backup.
Originally, it would have been my team. Twenty of the most hardcore, disciplined, death-dealing sons of bitches ever to be born unto this Earth; Navy SEALs. That's what I was; originally. But like I said, originally don't mean shit around here. Not anymore. Now, I'm a checker. I check on stuff. That's what I do; and I do it well. Now my team is four people, from a more diverse bunch of past lives than I would have ever thought possible, but they're the best I've found.
Red, he's six foot five and going on three hundred fifty pounds; and not an ounce of fat on his entire body. Hopefully, you see why I say he's my muscle-- not that I can't handle things on my own. That was my specialty, after all. Originally. Red's a janitor, but he's not dumb, on the contrary, he's a very bright man. Some people just run into hard times, and he ran into 'em real bad.
Lewis is sixteen going on thirty, and can do more with a computer than half of those Department of Defense doughboys ever could. But there aren't a lot of big networks running anymore, so he's stuck working gadget duty for us. He's a tough kid, that's for sure. He lost his parents in San Francisco during the first outbreak; they were good people. I'd know, his dad was my brother. The kid watched his parents die, come back, and die again; yet, somehow, he's still found a way to go on with life that I have to envy. Luckily, he doesn't blame me for doing what I did--but that's my story, and I don't tell stories any more.
Graham is our doc. Technically she's only a nurse, but what do I know about medicine? She wears the white hat and has the painkiller, and that's doctor-enough for me. None of us know how she got here, or even from where she came; she showed up one day at the main bridge asking for help, and that's what she got. If I had to guess, I'd say she's had it the worst, but none of us have had what I'd call good, so that doesn't mean much no how.
The rest are just as mixed and talented, but these three are mine. They're my family now, and they understand that. Blood, sex, and skin color don't mean anything anymore. It's humanity that counts. You have to be human for us to accept you, and a lot of the people here can't claim that anymore. But my team, they're all human, and that's what makes them special.
Doc Holiday once asked Wyatt Earp what he wanted, and Wyatt said to just live the normal life. Holiday shook his head and replied, "There is no normal life, just life. Ya live it." A truth more relevant now than ever. And that's what we do here, we live life. It's not the perfect one, the one we asked for, but even before it never was for most people. So when people ask me how come I seem so happy in a world so full of death, I just tell them that I'm just living. At least that's better than most around here.