Buck's Ranch looks abandoned, but I can see a small farmhouse in the middle of the field. I leap over the wooden gate, then help the teenager over. We draw our weapons and look around the field as we walk, but we only see one far-off shape. If it's a horse we'll have a tough time catching him. In this world only the fittest survive. So, the horse is probably either extremely fast or extremely violent. We ignore the possible horse and enter the house, our weapons at the ready. But no zombies charge us. However, there is a body. I walk over to who I assume is Buck and examine him. His leg is snapped in two, a note too faded to read is beside him, and there's a bullet hole in his head. That's when I notice the shotgun laying across his lap. I grab the weapon, whistle, and throw it at the survivor. She happily snatches the weapon from the air and says, "Jackpot.". She hands me my machete and loads her new gun.
She looks at Buck and asks, "What happened?". I shrug as I look for supplies and tell her, "His leg somehow got broken, so he blew his own brains out. Nobody was going to come all the way out here to check on him, I don't see a speck of food around here, and he only had one bullet left. Seems to me that he did the right thing. A bullet is faster than starvation, infection, or zombie bites.". The woman looks upset at the answer, but accepts it and moves on. I manage to find bullets (apparently Buck couldn't reach them), some clothes that could fit me or the teenager, the survivor finds some rum in Buck's cellar, and the teenager finds some sugar in the kitchen. The sugar has been opened so it's in giant clumps, but it's still edible. We both pop some of the sugar into our mouths and go outside, looking for the shape we saw earlier. It's closer now, but we still approach it slowly. We aren't disappointed with what we find.
The stallion is dark as night, gigantic, and snorts at our presence. We try to walk up to him, but he trots away. I sigh, load my gun, and tell the teenager, "We'll have to do this the hard way.". I approach the stallion, and fire at the ground in front of him when he moves to flee. He screams, rears, and runs straight by me. I grab on to his mane and hop onto his back, the stallion rearing and attempting the buck me. I desperately cling onto his neck, but eventually he calms down. I pat his side, shush him, and motion for the teenager to sit behind me. When she manages to get onto the horse she wraps her arms around my stomach, practically shaking. I nudge the horse forward and ask her, "Something wrong?". She answers, "I've never ridden a horse before. Where did you learn?". I wrap my hands into the creature's man and tell her, "Ceremonies for the president. It was some old tradition that I had to ride a horse beside the president during their inaugural walk. I was trained to get it down perfectly.".
She nods into my shoulder and asks, "Why was this horse not taken? How is it still alive? Why was he so easy to catch?". I shrug and tell her, "Nobody probably wanted to come out here, so no one took him. His parents were probably fast and strong, but are dead now. He's a fast little bastard, so nobody could take him. I suppose he was easy to catch because he wasn't expecting anyone to try to catch him. Or maybe the nine are just watching over us.". I can tell there's a confused look on her face when she asks, "The nine?". I nod and tell her, "The gods our country followed before the zombie virus overcame us. We didn't have an official religion, but almost everyone followed the nine. The daedra were their opposites. Some people still think the daedra caused the apocalypse.". She grips my stomach tighter and tells me, "I was never taught that in school.". That doesn't surprise me.
After the collapse of humanity, religion was the last concern of the government. We reach the wooden fence that surrounds the field and I kick the horse in the sides, the stallion easily leaping the fence. As he trots along I tell the survivor, "We should reach the Oklahoma Texas border in a week. The horse will be exhausted, but we can push him fifty miles a day. He's in good shape, and we can rest when we reach Oklahoma. In Oklahoma I want to go to Oklahoma city. It's still fortified, and we might be able to steal some supplies. Then, we'll head to Missouri. That's about three hundred miles from the border of Oklahoma to the border of Missouri. We can push the horse again and arrive in another week. Remember that these are all estimates. Things change and plans can get ruined. Then, we'll cut through Iowa and Minnesota. Iowa and Minnesota will be roughly seven hundred miles. Push the horse and he'll die, so we'll take those states nice and slow. They were lightly populated, so only a small number of zombies will be there.".
"We can stop by fortified cities, loot towns, and trade with any other travelers. It'll take weeks to reach the Canadian border, but it'll be worth it. When we get in Canada I'll think of a way to get to Yellowknife.". The survivor asks, "How on earth do you know all of these distances and times?". I kick the horse in the sides and tell the teenager, "I had maps that told the distances, but I lost them. And, I'm kind of guessing. I could be completely wrong.". She nods into my shoulder, but screeches when something charges at us. I pull my gun from its holster and shoot the man point blank in the skull, and he falls without a sound. The horse keeps on trotting, never missing a beat (my silencer quieted the gun, so I guess that's why he didn't spook). I consider going and searching the man, but see no point. The teenager asks, "What was that?!". I shake my head is disgust and tell her, "A man desperate for anything. He's probably been tailing us, and just now decided to attack.". The survivor whispers, "Why?".
I shrug and tell her, "I don't know why he would. Maybe he thought we had supplies, wanted our horse, or simply wanted to kill. It doesn't matter, he's gone.". She grips my stomach even tighter and begins nervously looking around. I don't blame her, more people could be anywhere. The sun bakes us as we ride, the stallion beneath us running at blinding speeds. We're basically riding in the middle of nowhere, so no zombies bother us. We find a dead armadillo and manage to keep some on its meat, but that's about it. The beast beneath us is powerful, fast, and doesn't spook when other horses would. Near sunset I stop the horse, but face a major problem. Where can we sleep? The answer is, we can't. I tell the woman, "Tie your hands together around me, then try to fall asleep. We'll ride through the night, but I'll slow down a little for the horse. When the sun rises I'll wake you up and we'll switch places. Tomorrow night we'll look for a safe place where both of us can get some sleep.". She nods and pulls the cloth bandages from her pocket.
She ties her hands and tries to go to sleep, and soon enough I hear her snoring. This plan raises a ton of problems, but it's better than being defenseless in the night. If we get in a fight I have a woman tied to me, she's unconscious and won't wake up fast enough to help, and if the horse bucks us we're screwed. But if a zombie attacks I can ride away, the woman is going to be rested, and we aren't vulnerable. Riding at night is completely different and I have to be extremely careful. Rocks and holes could hurt the beast, zombies and bandits could lurk in the shadows, and if I get too far off course I could end up completely missing Oklahoma. I sigh at the thought of Oklahoma. We need to get to Canada if we want to live longer than a year (until recently I hadn't planned on living very long). The United States might seem small (if you think about it the distance to Canada isn't too far), but on horseback it'll take forever. And, we have to avoid zombies, bandits, and fortified cities. If we get too close to a city we'll most likely be shot dead.
If we aren't shot we'll be captured, scanned for the zombie virus, and forced to join the city. I'll probably be assigned a military job and the teenager will be forced to rejoin school. If push comes to shove (we're filthy, starving, and dying) I'll ride to the nearest city and beg entrance. We'll be taken to a medical center, treated (not to mention charged), and rejoin the 'society'. I've considered returning to a 'normal' life many times, but from what the teenager says some cities are horrible. If I rode to Hollywood or New York I could find a decent life (the capitals of the two countries are bound to be good), but at what cost? We could never escape (I've no doubt the capitals catch anyone who tries to flee), I'd be assigned everything (a house, job, and scheduled retirement), and the teenager would be giving up her recently obtained freedom. I might go to a city when I'm too old to care for myself, but not now.
The sun is rising, the girl is waking up, and my stomach is growling. The teenager unties her hands, drinks some alcohol, and pops a piece of sugar in her mouth. She hands me the bottle, and a piece of sugar when I ask for it. She wraps up the bandages, shoves them in her pocket, and offers to take my place. We switch spots (quite a feat on a moving horse) and the teenager starts riding (I have to give her a quick lesson on what to do). I take the bandages from her pocket, tie my arms around her waist, and lie my head on her shoulder. Her shotgun is pressing against my front, but I ignore it and start to doze. Soon enough the rhythm of the horse beneath me, the warmth of the sun, and the breathing of the teenager have me falling asleep.
Survivor POV:
The horse snorts beneath me, barely able to keep trotting. It's mid afternoon and the creature has been running and trotting all day. We haven't seen a single zombie, bandit, or animal. I'm not sure what the Texas wilds looked like before I was born, but I'm sure they weren't this abandoned. The horse goes over a particularly hard bump and I feel Delphine yank back and slam into my shotgun. She doesn't wake up, but mumbles in her sleep. I'm glad to have a shotgun again, even if it isn't mine. It still creeps me out that Buck blew his own brains out with this gun, but a weapon's a weapon. I see a major city off to the west and stop, squinting to make out the gigantic sign above it. A rattlesnake and armadillo locked in a bloody battle. Antonio. I had to learn about the place in school. It's worse than St. Louis. I quickly kick the horse and pass the city. It's not until the sun is setting that I hear the screams.