"Claire Marie," a voice that had grown familiar over the last twelve hours was accompanied by a hand gently shaking her shoulder.
Claire opened her eyes, blinking slowly with newly awakened befuddlement, and yawned widely. It was the first night in weeks that she had gone to bed reasonably full. Achilles was standing over her, his armor and weapons back on, with a grim look on his face. He was kneeling in front of her with a bundle of black cloth.
"There's a Wal-Mart at the other end of town. We're going to secure a route for the Artisan-Laborers. I have to lead a team. You, as my guest, have two choices. You can go back to the hotel, and you will never be allowed back, or you can accompany me."
Claire's head cleared immediately and her bowels clenched involuntarily.
"I'll have to fight?" she managed to squeak from a throat suddenly gone dry.
Achilles shook his head, "I'll post you with my spotter. Artemis will watch out for you."
Before she could really think about the ramifications, Claire was nodding slowly.
"Good," Achilles gave her a small, charming smile. "Put this on. I'll be waiting outside. You can just leave your old clothes here. I'll show you where the bathroom is, then we'll get you equipped."
Claire nodded again and Achilles lay the black leotard in front of her. He left the room and Claire mechanically went about changing while her mind raced.
What the hell am I doing? They're gonna get me killed. I should just go back, tell Richardson whatever crap he wants to hear-
Then what! Her mother's voice, particularly shrill this time, shrieked inside her head. Wait to die on your back or huddled in a corner like the stupid slut you are!?
Goddamnit, Claire hated to admit how often her bitchy mother's voice was right.
The voice was exactly right though. Claire had come to the conclusion herself on more than one occasion whenever she wasn't being harassed by Richardson or his men. There was no planning in Richardson's little posse about anything other than finding a way to distill liquor. None of the "peons" seemed capable of thinking for themselves anymore. It had amazed Claire how easily cowed they had been.
Claire finished sliding on the leotard and walked out of the room. There were two new guards at the door leading to the roof. Both were women and didn't have the torso armor that the others had. Instead they wore long-sleeved white shirts that looked clingy. They did wear the arm and leg- guards though. Each woman was armed with the weapons the previous guards had wieded. They each had brown hair and eyes with facial features that said they were close relatives.
Achilles led the way past them with a friendly nod, which they briefly returned, and Claire followed him down the stairs. The main space was noisy with nearly everyone going about a multitude of tasks. Three groups of five people each were checking their equipment while the others were doing everything from sewing to sharpening weapons. Achilles headed along the wall to a restroom sign. He waited outside and Claire went through the women's door. The stalls had been torn down and the toilets pulled up. Holes had been dug down to where the sewer line was. There was nowhere to sit and Claire had to squat over the hole.
Of course she had a bad case of the runs, anxiety always played hell with her gut, and the smell was awful. She was a shaky, sweaty mess and could barely tear the toilet paper off the wall behind the crap-hole. There was a little bucket of water and a bar of soap for hand washing on the sinktop beneath the long mirror opposite the stalls. The water was already a little murky but Claire clenched her teeth and scrubbed her hands. Once that was done she dried her hands on the towel beside the bucket and walked out.
"You can bathe and brush your teeth when we get back," Achilles said as he walked toward a long table twenty feet to their left.
"What time is it?" she asked, pausing to stare as Achilles held out a bottle of water to her.
"Take it. Little sips to hydrate. Too much will probably make you go again," Claire took the bottle and Achilles answered after her first sip of the lukewarm water. "Around five in the morning."
Oh, good. Hopefully I can be back when Richardson comes back and avoid explaining.
The table was covered in pieces of the armor Achilles was wearing. He quickly picked out a corset, chest protector, arm, and leg guards for Claire.
"Drink while I armor you. I'll tell you what we call them as I put them on. Pay attention."
Claire nodded and held her arms out so that Achilles could put on the underarmor, the hard leather corset that cinched via straps on the left side. He took a pair of clean socks from a fresh pack and even put those on for her. Then came the chestplate that Achilles had to tie securely. That was followed by the greaves, bracers, biceps-guard, quad-guard, elbow pads and knee pads. Everything but the elbow and knee pads were double-sided and could be cinched tight with straps. The boots were probably the heaviest piece of armor. They looked more like low-top sneakers than boots but she could feel the steel-toe in them. Finally the gauntlets were slid on. She had been right about the hard pieces inside. Whatever they were, they were on the tops and bottoms of each digit. Achilles slowly put on her helmet. She was surprised to find that a mouthpiece like boxers used was stuck to the inside of the face-guard. Once he showed her how to put it on, Achilles clipped it to a spot on the lower back of her underarmor.
A few feet down the wall was a table covered in the peculiar weapons The People used. One half was covered in dented and broken spears as well as the hatchet-things. The other half had two neat rows of spears and hatchet-things. Achilles appraised Claire with a critical eye before he picked up a spear, tested the weight, made a few practice stabs, and then put it down. There were only four choices and, after he had gone through them all, he went back to the very first. Achilles held the spear in one hand while he repeated the process with the hatchet-things. When he finally settled on one, he held the spear point-down towards Claire.
"We call this a spear-club," with a deft twirl the spear's slender, spike of a tip was point-up. "It is good for skull penetration, we made the edges blunter and the point like a railroad spike for that purpose." Achilles turned the spear horizontally and tapped the ball with the rounded part of the hatchet-thing. "It's solid metal, about a pound of it, but that's good enough to crack a Risen's head open. It might not give them the Second Death but they cease to be an immediate threat quite quickly. Here, feel the weight."
Achilles held it out and Claire put down her empty bottle. She gingerly took the weapon from his light grip. It wasn't as heavy as she thought it would be, but it was still a solid weight in her hand. She held the spear-club by the leather-wrapped section that extended toward the club end from halfway up the shaft.
"Step over here," Achilles said, drifting to the corner a little farther down. "Now we'll go through the basic motions."
Achilles unsnapped the strap holding the shaft of his spear-club to his thigh and drew his weapon from its holder. He showed her how to thrust upwards and downwards. The wrapping closer to the tip was thicker to give better penetration power for thrusting. Then Achilles taught her how to swing the club end without stabbing herself with the point. It mostly involved short, vicious, at least when Achilles demonstrated the motions they looked vicious, punching motions with the spear-club held point-down. Once Achilles was done, Claire was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He, of course, looked as fresh as a daisy. He carefully returned his spear-club to his holder and buttoned it into place. Claire followed his example and managed not to gouge herself.
"This," Achilles held out the hatchet-thing. "We call a tomahawk. The blade half is useful for hacking off grasping fingers, hands, that sort of thing. The blunt end will make a mess out of anything you hit with a reasonable amount of force. It's top heavy so, with a careful spin, you can do much more damage than a regular swing."
The tomahawk was definitely heavier than the spear-club. Achilles brief instruction lasted ten minutes, no more than that, and at the end Claire was dripping sweat from her nose. After she slipped the shaft of her tomahawk through its loops, Claire rotated her shoulders and tried to catch her breath. Her tutor stood calmly before her as several people came over to their corner. The only person she knew at a glance was Artemis because she was the tallest woman of the group.
Artemis had a girlish, heart-shaped face that was only slightly marred by a jagged scar on her chin. It was hard to tell what shade of brown her hair was because it was cut so close. Artemis' light brown eyes had that odd intensity about them that Athena's had.
There were two others besides Artemis, a man and another woman. The woman was only slightly taller than Claire but had shoulders like a man and a face to match. She had stony, grey eyes and a perpetual scowl on her face.
She's probably a raging lesbian.
The man was Artemis' height, maybe a little taller, with wide shoulders and a narrow waist. It looked as though he didn't need shoulderpads. He ran a hand over his blonde mat of hair as he stared at Claire with narrowed, blue-green eyes.
Artemis angrily began signing at Achilles, her face twitching every other hand motion, until Achilles clapped his hands together in front of his chest. He pointed into the main floor and signed rapidly. Then he jabbed his finger at Artemis and more sign was exchanged. The last motion Claire knew quite well. Achilles drew his finger slowly across his throat.
To Claire's amazement, Artemis and the other two bowed their heads and pounded their fists against their left breasts twice.
"This is my guest. Her name is Claire Marie," Achilles stepped to the left of the small row they had formed. "You've met Artemis," Achilles walked to the right and gestured to the man, "Orion." Then the woman, "Chun Li."
Claire couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up and immediately covered her mouth in horror.
"I'm sorry!"
The woman shrugged and signed to the others. All four of them chuckled quietly while Claire was left feeling as though she were the butt of a joke.
"Claire Maire," Achilles called to get her attention, "The standard sweep-and-clear of a small structure goes like this. Three beaters go in the house and two spotters post outside. You and Artemis will act as spotters while Chun Li, Orion, and I go inside to clear the structure. Any questions?"
Claire shook her head and Achilles nodded slowly. He gestured for everyone to follow him and Claire found herself at the end of the line behind Orion. There was no pattern to the placement of the group that she could see but when she tried to jog up to Achilles, Orion slapped a palm roughly against her chestplate.
"You are not of The People. Your place is there." Orion spoke in a dry, deep, gravelly voice as though his throat had been damaged in the past.
Or maybe it's that way because no one freakin' talks around here.
Claire followed Orion's back to the bottom of the stairs leading up to the breakroom. Their group of five was only one of four heading that way. One group paralleled them and Claire saw that Athena was at its head. Everyone had their helmet on but Claire could tell by the bow that Athena was carrying. Voices from ahead drew Claire's attention and she peeked around Orion's back. A small woman stood beside the doorway handing out small backpacks and weird disc's that people were strapping to their forearms.
"What's going on?" Claire whispered to Orion.
The tall man turned just enough to fix the corner of a blue-green eye on her.
"This is where we receive battle-packs and bucklers if we want them. The packs are filled with water, trail mix, and first aid kits. Enough to see you through a day's sweep-and-clear."
Orion answered her quickly enough but Claire got the feeling he was a step away from nearly hating her.
What the hell did I do to him?
Orion stepped close to the woman and the freckle-faced redhead asked, "Job?"
"Beater," Orion answered proudly.
"Buckler?" Orion nodded and she handed him what looked like a tarnished steel plate. The woman then passed him a small backpack, "Fight well." Claire walked up and the woman smiled warmly, "Don't be nervous. Achilles will see you right. He hasn't picked anyone since Xena. You should feel blessed! Anyway, you're a spotter, so you get a larger pack." The woman, who looked too frail to do so, lifted the bulky-looking pack with one arm. "Tell me if it's too heavy for you."
Claire slipped the pack on and immediately felt like she was back in high school. Her legs trembled for a minute, she bowed backwards a little, but finally managed to straighten herself.
The redhead smiled and slapped her on the shoulderpad, "Good luck and fight well!"
The others were waiting for her a little way up the stairs and quietly began to march as soon as she rejoined them. They passed the two guards, who gave a solemn, "Fight well," as they went into the stairwell leading to the roof. Claire walked onto the roof and took a deep breath of early morning air. The sky was a variety of shades thanks to the slowly rising sun. The area was eerily quiet and covered in a light fog. The group headed to the edge of the roof and Claire began to panic with sudden realization.
How am I going to climb down with all this crap on?
Claire was so caught up in her own thoughts that she was standing in front of Achilles in the blink of an eye.
"What?"
Achilles laughed, "I'll take your pack down." Claire gave a heavy sigh of relief as Achilles took her pack off. "Grab the rope before you get up on the edge. Slide to your belly and ease yourself over. Use your feet. The knots are good on the way down as well as up."
Claire took a deep, bracing breath and did as Achilles instructed. She was halfway to the ground when she had an epiphany.
Oh my God! I'm enjoying this! Despite it all, I am really enjoying myself for the first time since I was ten. Holy shit! I think I just had a mental orgasm!
Claire giggled the rest of the way down and kept doing it despite the uneasy glances everyone was throwing her way. Achilles hit the ground and laughed with her.
"Finally realized it, huh?" he asked her, and she was so caught up in the giggles she could only nod, "So, you'll stay?"
Claire sobered up immediately and something that had slept inside her for too long made her straighten.
"Yes, if I survive."
"Excellent. This will be your Initiate Trial By Fire."
Claire nodded, even she understood the implication, "How did you know I would join?"
Achilles shrugged, "It came to me when I first looked into your eyes. In this world, you learn to trust your feelings. Now," Achilles handed Claire her pack, "-it's time to fight."
Claire nodded and slipped on her pack. The rest of the group strapped their helmets on and she followed their example. It was a pleasant surprise that she remembered Achilles instructions so well that she didn't hesitate once. The mouthpiece felt odd and the sides of her helmet cut off her peripheral vision some but she felt safer with the protection. She thought her hearing was diminished by the helmet but not by much. There was some kind of padding in the faceguard that filtered the air she was breathing.
The various groups formed a single line and a figure who's armor had a small patch of zebra print in the hollow of his throat stood in front of them. He looked up and down the line of people before nodding. The man took out his tomahawk and everyone did the same. Claire fumbled a bit and when she finally got her's out she looked up to see that Shaka, she assumed that's who it was, waiting for her. He didn't say anything, not that he really could with the mouthpiece in, and simply pounded the flat of the weapon against his chest. Shaka raised the weapon high and eighteen warriors hit their chests. Claire was a little slow but she hoped no one noticed. Once every tomahawk was in the air, Shaka lowered his in a "follow-me" gesture. His group jogged up to his side and the remaining four fell in behind them.
The road going through town was at the bottom of the hill but to get to it they had to pass a gas station and a McDonald's. The gas station and McDonald's were on a level spot to the left of the downgrade leading to the road. No one gave the places a glance and when Claire turned that way she saw why.
Seven heads stuck on individual, wooden poles stood in a neat row at the edge of the McDonald's lot. There were three in front of the Exxon.
The small army reached the bottom of the hill and turned left. They walked in the center of the road and Claire could feel a peculiar sort of relaxed tension among her group. She just felt like a taut wire that had just been flicked. Without a word, Shaka's group headed to a cluster of old-looking wooden houses on the left. Soon Claire's group was alone on the lonely road and then Achilles pointed to a wooden farmhouse in an overgrown field to their right. Artemis drew an arrow from her hip quiver and put the feathered end against the string as Achilles, Chun Li, and Orion jogged toward the house. Claire, already a little tired from the ten minute walk, lagged behind as they crunched their way up the gravel drive.
The house was two stories, with a little extra for attic space, and a dull white color. It looked like it had originally been constructed of wood but someone had added a brick porch. It was an odd structure to say th least. There was a two car garage about twenty feet to the house's left.
Achilles gestured and they changed course for the garage. They slowed at the sight of an expensive looking SUV that had crashed through the side of the garage and now had it's rear-end protruding from the interior wall.
Someone must have been trying to get home and lost control... oh...damnit.
There was blood splashed all over the garage. Bits of dried flesh littered the floor and one piece looked as though it could have been an ear. Achilles spread his arms in a shooing gesture and his two subordinates stepped further away. To Claire's amazement he began stomping his boots. She looked over to see that Artemis was scanning the area. Orion and Chun Li were doing the same from their sides of the garage. Claire shrugged and went back to watching Achilles.
During her brief lapse in attention, a zombie had shuffled out into view. It was a big man... or what was left of one. Excess skin hung off it's face and made it look like a hound. Claire couldn't see any bite marks but his clothes were stained with dried blood. His jeans were practically covered in it, as though he had rolled in a puddle, and his T-shirt was a light shade of pink. The man's lifeless eyes fixed on Achilles and he opened his mouth to let loose one of those frightening sounds the undead made. All that came out was a hoarse gurgle because Achilles suddenly had his spear-club protruding from the zombie's neck. Achilles slid forward from his long-thrust position and smoothly spun to smash his tomahawk's blunt-end into the zombie's knee. There was a sharp crack and the zombie listed to one side. That didn't stop it from spinning with an outstretched arm ready to pull Achilles close.
If Claire hadn't already seen Achilles fight she wouldn't have believe what happened next. Achilles sliced the zombie's hand off at the wrist, reversed the tomahawk, and slammed the blunt-end down into the zombie's opposite shoulder. The joint instantly deformed with a sickening crunch. Claire thought Achilles would end it but instead he grabbed the handle of his spear-club and dragged the zombie toward them. He gestured to Chun Li and she strode into the garage with her tomahawk held low to her side. Claire averted her eyes as she caught a glimpse of a badly chewed up little body as it struggled across the garage floor.
Orion grabbed one of the zombies arms and Achilles grabbed the other. They dragged it directly in front of Claire. She cringed as Achilles removed the spear-club with a swift, economic tug. He pointed at Claire with the gore-covered end and then at the zombie.
Achilles spun his spear-club and made a hammering motion.
Oh my God! He wants me to kill it?
Claire gripped her tomahawk hard and stared down at the zombie struggling wildly to free itself. The only thing it was really moving was its head and mouth. Achilles and Orion had it in an unbreakable grip.
Can I do it?
Claire started trembling as the zombie's face was replaced by Richardson's, then his cronies, then the idiot townspeople, then her high school guidance counselor, and finally her mother.
No. I hate all of them, but that's not what I'm going to do this, Claire opened her eyes, she didn't even remember closing them, and stared at the zombie's face, You took my life! As shitty as it was, it was still mine!
Claire raised her arm and whipped the tomahawk down. The zombie snapped at her and she sliced its nose off. With a muffled growl, she reversed the tomahawk and rammed it forward into the oozing stump that had been the thing's nose. Thick, congealed blood flew everywhere, the zombie's head snapped back, and the hole in its neck grew wider. Claire raised the tomahawk and smashed it down as the zombie's head rolled forward. The blow connected with the top of its head and blood splattered everywhere as Claire felt the skull cave in. It was like bashing a watermelon.
The zombie began to twitch but Claire kept hitting it. When Achilles and Orion dropped the faintly twitching body, Claire began stomping on what remained of its head. Finally, when the zombie's head was unrecognizable chunks of bone, flesh, and brain, Claire stopped. She stood, panting around the mouthpiece, and felt an unexpected surge of exhilaration.
The others were watching her and when she stopped panting they gave her claps on the shoulderpad. Achilles pounded his chest with his tomahawk and raised it. Before she could do anything, Achilles, Chun Li, and Orion were headed for the farmhouse. Artemis waved her arm at Claire and followed them.
That's seriously messed up, Claire thought as she glanced at the carnage she had wrought. Oh, well.