A Moment Of Calm

Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it isn't mine. If you don't recognise it, it still might not be.

Family. As things go it's pretty much universal, one of the few concepts that are recognised by every single human culture. Never the less, pre-31/10 it was the subject of a fair amount of debate, specifically regarding what constituted a 'normal' one. Were single parent families inferior to ones with two parents? Should same sex couples be allowed to adopt? Afterwards the debate became fairly redundant. Family was what you made of it, quite literally at that. After the Event there were a lot of people who'd lost family, and almost as many who's loved ones had been transformed. There was also a whole load of people who found themselves in a strange place without anyone they knew and a bunch of people who'd known the person they'd replaced. People grieved over those they'd lost and often didn't know how to deal with the strangers left in their sted, or at worst discovered that someone they'd once loved had turned into someone who wanted to kill them.

Even when death wasn't on the immediate agenda, there was still a lot that could go wrong. For every success story there was at least three tragedies. Children were abandoned by transformed parents who no longer cared if they lived or died, or transformed kids were rejected by parents who saw them as interlopers and monsters. Those too young, old or weak to defend themselves or flee often perished before the first dawn failed to occur. It is very telling to note that if someone were to record the age demographics of the world a few months after Halloween, they'd notice a general lack of kids whose ages were still in single figures and adults north of their sixties.

Even with the 'success' stories things were often messy, with people trying to build relationships with people that they didn't know and who didn't know them. A common result being a Replacement Goldfish situation where family units were reassembled out of the wreckage left by 10/31. A lot of the results would be familiar to anyone who's spent time in Rukongai; combinations of the fragments of up to a dozen different families, the replaced, the altered and the unchanged, friends and travelling partners. Families headed by older siblings or made up of a gaggle of orphans and an impromptu guardian or two doing their best to cope. Bonds were forged out of necessity and by the pressures of survival in the New World, not to mention the almost overwhelming fear of being alone in a waking nightmare, of dying with only your killer for company. A group may start out barely knowing each other and as nothing more then travelling companions but a few weeks of shared fear and struggles, and having to rely on each other every second of the day can forge a bond as strong as blood. They may not love each other, they may not even like each other a lot of the time, but they stick together, fight together, protect each other, and anyone foolish enough to harm one of them will end up bringing the whole group down upon their heads. The English language doesn't really have a word that does this sort of relationship justice, but Japanese, a language that has had a sudden increase in importance due to many, many former anime characters, does; nakama. Formerly a fairly obscure phrase as far as the western world was concerned, in the years after the Event it would become an important loan word even before the viral language known as Magianese finished spreading, and in some circumstances one with a certain amount of legal weight, since in the absence of conventional family someone has to take on the duties that would normally fall upon relatives.

In the chaotic first months of the New World, there are already signs of what the future has in store. Multiple versions of the same character appear throughout the world and while there are those who are enraged by there being another being just like them, many embrace their doppelgangers as family. Some, such as the Narutos and the duplicates of characters from certain Japanese video games, will build upon that early familial bond to become a force to be reckoned with, while others just cling to each other as the only safe thing in a hellish world. Related characters find each other and discover that they all have their share of newly acquired familial baggage which often has at least one connection with another formerly fictional family, whose members have new relatives of their own and so on. Combined with the duplicates and it becomes apparent to anyone with good observation skills and a decent imagination that the result is going to be a sprawling, interconnected mess, not to mention that Six Degrees of Separation is going to get a lot more interesting in the not too distant future.

Of course, while people are discovering family that they never before had, they're often driven to find the ones that they have lost.

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After staring at the sea in disbelief for several minutes, a fair amount of swearing, a couple of rather desperate ideas such as finding a boat (nixed by a general absence thereof), and swimming for it (vetoed by common sense), and somehow managing not to wake up Molly, the disappointed duo did the only thing they could. They turned around. After several minutes of driving however, they came across something unexpected. Sticking out of the top of a hedgerow was a sign with the word 'Refuge' and an arrow painted on it in white paint, although the light made it look pink.

"Think it's a trap?"

"If it is it's the most unsubtle one in history, not to mention being a cliché."

There was a pause.

"Want to check it out?"

"Might as well. If it's not a trap then we get somewhere to stop for a bit and if it is..."

"Then we take them out."

Kieran nodded.

"Sounds like a plan."

A murmur from the back of the van reminded them of their passenger.

"What about her?"

"If she stays in here she should be okay. If things get ugly, I'll keep them busy while you get away."

A couple of months ago Kieran would've protested the idea but experience regarding Nero's personality (specifically the fact that he had a stubborn streak a mile wide) had taught him not to bother arguing. Besides, if anyone could take care of themselves it was Nero.

Pressing down lightly on the accelerator, Kieran turned the van in the direction indicated by the arrow.

They saw it long before they reached it. At the end of the road, stretching for about a mile, was a hedge. A very, very tall, dense looking hedge that blocked the road completely. When they got closer they could see that the branches were entwined so tightly that Kieran doubted that a mouse could get through, even without the vicious looking thorns that covered every twig. Up close they could also see just how high it was, the mass of branches towering over them, easily equalling at least three stories.

"Wow. I seriously doubt that's natural."

"You think?"

"Hnn. Well, this seems to be it. I wonder how you get in."
No sooner were the words out of his mouth then the wall of plant life began to split and part like the Red Sea. Looks and shrugs were exchanged, then Kieran drove the car forwards though the thorny canyon.
It seemed to go on forever, the wall of thorns gradually opening in front of them. A little way in the two teenagers were alarmed to see that it was also closing up behind them. Kieran bit his lip and checked that his shotgun was within easy reach, while Nero frowned and kept one hand on Blue Rose, but they kept going forwards.

"Ten quid says there's at least one wizard or something on the other side."

"It could be a demon or something."

"Or a ninja."

"Huh?"

"I overheard one of the headband brigade mention something about a guy they knew who could control plants. Dunno about the details."

"Weird."

"Eh, what isn't nowadays?"

There was a pause.

"Should we wake up Molly?"

"No. We don't know if we can trust her and we don't want her getting in the way if things get ugly. Last thing we'd need is a panicking kid to worry about."

"Eh, after what she's probably been though I doubt she'd panic that easily."

"Maybe…"

Nero trailed off as they noticed that the wall of branches in front of them was starting to thin out.

"Showtime."

After spending several minutes surrounded by branches, the van finally emerged into an open space, the monster hedge closing behind them. A little distance away there was a cluster of farm buildings and short terrace of houses, while a field near the farm held the usual assortment of improvised long distance transportation; vans, lorries, a couple of coaches, a few four wheel drives and pickups, and what looked like an ambulance. All in all there wasn't anything obviously suspicious, well unless you counted the expressions of the group of guys who were waiting for them. All looked human and all but one seemed to be normals, the exception being a rather druidesque wizard with a staff who the duo promptly pegged as the creator of the hedge from hell. The non-wizards were armed; Kieran counted one shotgun, one rifle and one bow and arrows, as well as the usual mix of sharp objects pressed into weapon duty.

Inside the van, the duo exchanged a look, then Nero tugged down his right sleeve and tucked his hand out of sight as Kieran opened the door to make the introductions.

"Hiya. We saw the sign and we were wondering if we could stop here for a bit."

The guy with the shotgun gave him a hard look.

"That depends. You're not going to cause any trouble are you?"

"Nope. We just want to have a rest for a bit. Me and my friend were trying to get to Holy Island but it's cut off."

"The tide's in at the moment. You'll be able to get across at low tide."

"Really?"

Kieran was pretty sure he could feel a sweat drop forming, although it could just be the dirty look that Nero was giving him. They hadn't known about the tide thing.

"Low tide won't be until tomorrow."

"Okay. So can we stop here until then?"

Throughout the conversation the wizard had been staring very hard at the van. Now, the apparent leader of the group glanced at him. The wizard looked as if he was making his mind up about something, before answering the unspoken question with a nod. The "welcoming party" relaxed a little.

"Yeah. You can park over there with the others. If you need the loo or anything just follow the signs. If you're thirsty there's a well at the farm but we don't have much food to spare."

"That's okay. Thanks."

Kieran ducked back inside the van and shut the door.

"Don't say anything. I know. I was so busy with the van and the map I forgot to do the research okay?"

Nero shrugged but the look on his face said that he'd be bringing it up later.

Driving though a gate, they entered an area that looked like a cross between a caravan park and a refugee camp. The various vehicles were neatly spaced out and lined up but there were too many battered looking people and the all too familiar air of anxiety hung about any group of survivors even when they did their best to keep a brave face.

Picking an open space next to a lorry, Kieran was in the middle of parking the van when the worried quiet was broken by an angry shout.

"YOU'RE NOT MY DAD SO GET STUFFED!"

A second later one of the lorry's back doors was violently flung open and a teenage boy wearing a bandana around his head and a gi over jeans and a t-shirt that looked slightly too big for him jumped out and stormed off. A youngish looking man in a suit with shoulder length hair that was almost as luridly red as Kieran's jumped out after him.

"Damon, come back!"

"Sod off!"

The teenager, now identified as Damon, broke into a run and vanished behind a coach covered in corrugated iron and sheet metal. The man looked like he was going to follow him, but paused, looked back at the lorry and then in the direction Damon had gone before walking back to the lorry with an expression of utter misery on his face.

Kieran shook his head.

"What a drama."

Nero didn't reply, he was too busy putting his sling on.

"You don't have to wear that thing you know."

"We're only staying until tomorrow. It's not worth the trouble that'll happen if I don't wear it."

"Fair enough, but I think you're being too self-conscious. The whole world's changed, people should be able to handle someone with a weird arm."

"They should, but they usually aren't. I'm going to have a look around. You stay with the van."

"Fine."

Sling and glove in place, the demon hunter walked off between the rows of vehicles. Kieran watched him go then tried to think of something to do. The sleeping girl in the back, and his unwillingness to wake her greatly reduced his options. Getting out of the van, he walked around a bit to stretch his legs, before opening the back door of the van. Inside, Molly was still out cold, curled up into a position that would undoubtedly leave her stiff when he awoke, one hand resting on her crossbow. Retrieving a couple of blankets, Kieran covered her over with one, tensing when she stirred in her sleep and relaxing when he remained unshot, before slinging the other over his shoulder and pulling himself onto the van's roof.
From his new vantage point, he could see the extent of the hedge from hell. It was impressive. Kieran wasn't much good at judging distances but it was big enough to surround all the buildings plus a number of large fields. Either there was more than one magic user in the area or the one he'd seen had a hell of a lot of clout. To his surprise, he heard mooing coming from the farm. Most livestock had ended up as monster food within the first few days, like most people Kieran hadn't seen fresh milk for months (meat had been slightly more plentiful as people were starting to see which of the monsters were edible). Making a mental note to go and see if he could trade anything in his stash for a pint or two , he spread out the folded in half blanket and lay down, head pillowed by his hands as he stared up at the churning sky.

Once you got past the sheer wrongness of the colour and everything associated with it, it wasn't that bad to look at it. In fact, the shifting red clouds and shadows had a similar effect to a lava lamp. Kieran spent several minutes zoned out and trying to spot patterns and pictures in the ever changing redness, before getting board and climbing back down again. Putting the blanket back in its place, he got out the tiny camping stove which he'd found on one of the scavenging trips, lit it and put some water on to boil, before going to dig out one of the carefully hidden boxes of teabags. When in doubt, make tea.

The teabags were in his hand when he noticed that he was being watched. Looking up he saw Molly looking at him warily. He smiled.

"Hey. Fancy a cuppa?"

"Oh lord yes."

Smiling slightly at the power of tea, Kieran produced two mugs from one storage box and got sugar and a tin of evaporated milk from another. Molly watched him for a moment longer before getting up and moving to the doorway, blanket around her shoulders and crossbow in hand.

"You've got everything haven't you?"

Kieran shrugged.

"Not really. I used to have scavenger duty at the last place we were at and I made a point of pocketing anything that I thought might be handy."

"How big are your pockets?"

Kieran chuckled.

"Nero's asked me the same thing. You should've seen the look on his face the first time I started emptying my pockets after a trip out and ended up producing a small mountain of stuff."

The water reached boiling point and Kieran grabbed the pan pulling double duty as a kettle and teapot and dropped in a solitary teabag. At Molly's questioning look he shrugged.

"Gotta make it last."

"Hey, is that tea I can smell?"

Looking up, Kieran saw a man climb out of the cab of the lorry and walk towards them and sized him up. Aged about forty, average height, a little on the stocky side, clothes had seen better days, messy hair and stubble, bandaged arm, large, blood spotted dressing tapped to his cheek and a friendly grin. No weapons other than a knife. Kieran nodded at him.

"Yeah."

The man looked at the pan longingly.

"I haven't had a cup of tea in weeks."

Kieran looked thoughtful for a moment then smiled.

"I think there might be enough for three. Get a mug."

As it turned out, there was enough for three less than full cups, and rather weak milky ones at that. Never the less, they were appreciated. The tea also had the desired effect as a social lubricant and by the time the man, who had introduced himself as Steve, had finished his cup, Kieran had found out that the lorry was Steve's, well, by default anyway, and that Damon had a brother and sister, that he used to be the middle child prior to a Halloween triggered age-up which had abruptly dumped him in the middle of puberty, which went a long way towards explaining his temper. Their mum was gone and their dad had been replaced. The replacement was the red headed guy, who had the rather daft name of Spirit Albarn, was desperate to find the daughter he'd had before he found himself in this world, and was trying his best to take care of the kids he'd been landed with plus a trio of orphans that they'd picked up. Steve's opinion of him was that he was a 'good bloke but a bit of a prat.'

"Thanks for the tea. I..."

Steve was interrupted by a bang as something hit the inside of the lorry.

"Hey, I was drinking that," shouted a voice with a noticeable North London accent.

"Not in front of the kids, you irresponsible drunken freak!"

"Fine, I'll go somewhere else then."

A scruffy, dark haired man in his twenties jumped out of the lorry and wandered off.

"Who was that?"

"Mason. I picked him and Ruben up a couple of days after everything went to hell. It's just as well that we found the others the next day; Ruben was only a couple of months old, I don't have a clue about kids and Mason is usually drunk. It's a bloody miracle that he managed to keep the poor mite alive after he rescued him. Spirit's a prat, but at least he knows what he's doing, well, with the little 'uns anyway."

"Do they argue a lot?"

"Yeah. Gives me a bloody headache. Anyway, I'd best be off, someone's got to the voice of reason around here. Thanks again for the tea."

After Steve left, Kieran turned his attention to Molly. The girl seemed to holding up okay but experience had taught him that shellshock could make itself known without warning. He'd seen it in the Fort, a guy sitting at the next table during lunch had just suddenly started crying like a baby. He wasn't sure what he'd do if Molly did the same but until then he'd just keep acting normal.

"Fancy having something to eat?"

"Is the Pope a catholic?"

Kieran nodded and went to the storage box that contained the food.

"Tinned ravioli okay?"

"Yeah."

The tinned pasta was almost done when they heard the scream. When others followed it, Kieran retained just enough presence of mind to turn off the stove before grabbing his gun. Nearby, people started running.

A/N: If anyone manages to ID all the non-OC's in this chapter I'll be impressed.

Sorry that not much has happened in this chapter, I seem to have hit a wall in that I am somewhat stumped with regards to possible encounters and monsters (mainly because a lot of what I read/watch is rather obscure so I doubt that anyone would be interested) and I've been having a hard time fending off the curse of authorial self-doubt. If anyone's got any ideas that they'd like to see used and which might kickstart my imagination then bring them on. I'll credit you for them and everything. In fact, I'll be happy if people just review. Knowing that someone's actually reading this thing does wonders for my creativity.