Chapter 1: Nothing Else Matters
So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trust in who we are
And nothing else matters – James Hetfield
A/N: To clear up some confusion. I had two chapters of this story that was going to be a one-shot. I have combined those chapters into one Prologue. This is the next chapter and where this story really gets off the ground. This story is about reincarnation. This is a post-apocalyptic reincarnation love story. Olivia definitely died in the first part. Fitz might have lived longer, but this story takes place years later. You might find out a little bit about what happened to him further in the story, but both of them as we knew them in Scandal are dead at this point. The idea behind reincarnation is that you keep coming back and sometimes you make the same mistakes and sometimes you learn from them until hopefully you reach stage of enlightenment. There is also the idea that there are people in your lives that you are connected to through eternity. You will find more than Olivia and Fitz in this story. I believe most of the characters in this story will have their Scandal counterparts.
She could see it glimmering in the distance down the abandoned highway. It was a risk, she knew, but that shiny beacon could be valuable. The brown and white horse gave a nervous whinny before she reached down and scratched it behind its ears. "Shhhh, it's ok, horse," She never bothered giving the animal a name, even though it had been with her for several years now.
She adjusted her binoculars, hoping to get a better look. She began to get excited, in spite of herself. It might be a tanker. She hadn't seen one of those in nearly a year. It was almost too good to be true. Her hand automatically touched the handle of her shotgun strapped across her back. She hesitated, glancing back towards the path she had taken. Twitchy and Spin had taken the rover off in the opposite direction. This was their last major scavenger expedition until the spring. They did not have anything specific they were looking for this time. Sometimes it was the random searches that yielded the most bounty. Still, if they were going to make it to the Denver Territories before the passes closed, they needed to get a move on.
She brought her half-gloved hands to her mouth and warmed them with her breath. She rubbed her hands over her brown leather jacket. It was a sunny, cold day. The weather was definitely changing. Once again she regretted not grabbing that down jacket at that deserted mall in Trimbull. But Twitchy called for help, a rival scavenger had found and attacked her. Twitchy seemed to have a handle on the situation by the time she and Spin arrived. The young woman had plunged the knife in the chest of her attacker again and again, long after the heart stopped beating. Blood sprayed across her pale face and a mad gleam lingered in her dark brown eyes. They left in a hurry, not wanting to run into any of the dead man's friends if he had any.
Twitchy was a good asset, even though she wasn't altogether there sometimes. The brown haired young lady appeared innocent enough. In reality she had a keen intelligence and a knack with sharp instruments. Twitchy couldn't really say how old she was, but she was probably around sixteen when she first joined the group.
Spin was the quiet warrior. She could always depend on him to get her out of a pinch and do whatever was necessary. He was also the best mechanic she'd ever seen. Many towns and groups they had run into tried to recruit him for their own benefit. She knew that they were just wasting time, Spin was completely loyal.
Her group needed to grow. She had made a name for herself throughout the corridor for getting impossible tasks done. She was hired frequently by local leaders and municipalities to find a particular item or a person in the wastelands. She had to recruit new people soon in order to maintain her reputation. She could hear father's stern voice in her head, "Your name is everything. Every day that you walk this Earth, think of the legacy you leave behind. Nothing else matters in this life. Nothing."
Her team was definitely too small now. Lewis was killed outside of Tombstone. Fincher and Georgia left when they reached a ghost town called Flagstaff. The couple headed south. There was a part of her that couldn't believe Fincher abandoned the group. For quite awhile, he secretly pined for her. She could sense it and she did what she could to discourage it. When Georgia showed up, she pushed Fincher into her arms. Still, she was shocked when he told her they were leaving. She told Fincher that only a fool would believe the rumors that the south was some kind of promise land. Fincher just smiled and said, "Then I am a fool. I have to hope there is something more than this." She didn't say goodbye and turned her back when they headed down the road.
So Spin and Twitchy were all that remained. She thought for a moment of turning around and waiting for them. They had all agreed to meet first if any of them found something interesting.
Well, I wouldn't know if it was worth anything unless I got a closer look.She pulled out her shot gun and rested it on her lap as she kicked the horse to move forward. When she finally reached it, she slowed down her horse. Sure enough, it was a tanker. The body of the vehicle looked in pretty good condition. It probably was one of the last tankers coming out of Galveston before the Republic of Texas closed its oil refineries to outsiders. Spin might be able to even get the truck to work. The fuel could probably buy them passage into the Denver Territories, or at least get them there.
She pulled her horse up to the truck's cabin. A skeleton with half of its skull missing sat on the driver's side. The bones of his hands were curled around a handgun. She reached in and started to grab the gun, breaking fingers to get it. That's when the bullet hit her thigh. The horse bolted and suddenly she was dangling from the tanker's cabin door. Another bullet barely missed her head and shattered the side mirror, cutting her forehead with a shard. She landed on the ground with a thud. Dammit, ambush.
She scrambled for her shotgun, found it. A man with a gun rushed her and she had no time to get off the floor before she aimed and killed the man. Another bullet whizzed by her ear, nicking the lobe. She rolled underneath the truck. She tried to slow her breathing down, but the choking dust made it difficult. The shots stopped. She peered out from underneath the tire trying to find the other shooter. She thought she spotted someone at small rocky outcrop near the side of the road. She cursed herself for not checking that area first before approaching the tanker. She wiped the blood that streamed from her forehead away from her eyes with the back of her hand and used her binoculars to get a better look. She didn't know why he was waiting and not taking another shot. Then she looked at the tire. Of course, he didn't want to damage the tires. He must be a bad shot.
She caught her breath and tried to relax. She brought the shotgun up to her chin, squinting with one eye. She took one more look through her binoculars before she positioned the gun again and fired. She heard a groan and then nothing. She got him.
She rolled out from the other side of the truck and tried to stand up. She screamed in pain and crumpled to the ground. She didn't see the other man approach before he kicked the gun away from her side. She tried to crawl to it using both of her elbows to compensate for her wounded leg. He grabbed the back of her jacket and pulled her towards him. He turned her around and placed his forearm on her neck, choking her. He was a large man, both in size and stature. His weight crushed her.
"You fucking bitch! You killed my men," His breath reeked and she could see that his teeth were mostly rotten. His beady little eyes flashed angrily at her. "Well, you're going to pay for this now. You are going to wish you were dead." He groped her body while she reached for the knife strapped to her leg. She tried to move her leg and she screamed in pain from her thigh wound. "Oh, that's nice," the bastard laughed.
It can't end like this, she thought. She would be the joke of the wasteland. The bad ass who thought she could do any job. The woman who made her name by getting out of impossible situations, raped and killed by some anonymous fat man on the side of the road would become a cautionary tale of hubris. No, she wouldn't allow it. Her name would remain legendary. Nothing else matters in this life. Nothing.
She moved her leg closer to her hand. She could touch the very tip of the knife handle. Just a little bit closer. He started to unbuckle his pants. She nearly threw up, but it gave her the opportunity to grab the knife. Just as she was about to plunge the knife in his back, another gunshot rang out blowing the side of his chest away. He collapsed on her with a surprised look on his face. Dead.
She scrambled out from underneath him, holding the knife in a defensive position. She crawled under the tanker again, waiting, watching. The shooter approached. All she could see of him was black leather boots and jeans. He kicked the body of her attacker, making sure he was dead. He hesitated a moment, then squatted down. His head full of curly brown hair appeared under the tanker and he stared right at her.
"Are you ok," he asked with concern.
He had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.
A/N: Olivia in this story is surrounded by people she knew in her previous life although she doesn't know it. Twitchy is Quinn, Spin is Huck and Fincher is Stephen. And Mr. Blue Eyes, I think you can guess who he is. There will be more familiar faces making an appearance in this story.