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- Jun 28, 2008
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The After
"...But the tale of humanity will never come to a close, For struggle to survival is war without end. And war, war never changes"
Fallout
Fallout
Chapter 1: Return of the King
The rising sun blazed the badlands and it’s inhabitants. Stench of the dead took the desert wind and blew east. The dry lips of the crowd now silenced by the horror that they have just witnessed.
Zeep glanced at the crowd from the higher ground. On his left was a bloody chain saw. On his right, a head of a dead man. Fresh blood and sweat mingled, creating a deadly fume. His skin cooked and his blood boiled under the merciless sun.
“I meant it, I meant it when I said no more stealin!” Zeep growled at the crowd. The crowd was silent.
“Let this be a warnin to all you folks.” Zeep said now in more serious voice. “I know we are hungry, we all are. but stealin ain’t tolerable.”
There was a murmurs from the crowd, one brave spoke out in anger. “We haven’t ate in ages!” the man barked. “We’r desperate!”
Zeep noticed the owner of the angry voice. Man carried the name of lock, skinny man who seemed weaker but dangerous than ever. Zeep eyed him to silence but he didn’t stop.
“U call yourself chief, but u can’t even feed us.” Lock said in anger once again. There was a challenge in his voice. “Can’t remember last time I ate. We can’t live on dirts no more.”
Zeep swiped his forehead with his arms, smearing blood and other things even more. It was a habit he developed when he felt nervous and trapped. His nervous eyes oversaw the angry crowd. Tides were on him now.
“Listen.” said Zeep. “It’s gonna be different this time. This time …”
“Fuck this.” Yelled one of the crowd and left.
“No, listen.” said Zeep. “This time.. this time it’s gonna be…”
“What do think what’s stopping us from going and checkin the supplies tent ourselves?” Lock interrupted filled with both rage and excitement as he saw numbers on his side. “Bet it’s filled with your dinner ain’t I right? What’s stopping us?”
“Come and try.” Zeep dropped the head, and made a hard grip on the handle of the saw.
Lock and his boys stepped back, feelin threatened. “we can‘t run on weeds forever.” Lock spat on the ground and left the crowd. There was more mummers and angry talks, but crowd eventually broke apart. Zeep loosened his grip. After enjoying short sigh of relief, Zeep walked down from the hill and quietly walked to his tent.
Zeep’s tent was separated from the main camp. Uniquely decorated with the bones of both man and creatures. The leather it was made out of was slowly wearing out. Just like everything else in his miserable little band of raiders of his.
Zeep entered to see a old friend. The visitor was a small rusted man, the pilot hat was his crown, rugged coat was his robe. He wielded only a single eye, but his sharp looks gave a man goosebumps as powerful as eyes of the beast. Visitor broke the ice.
“I saw you wiping your face up there.” The visitor said in a old, and rusted voice.
“Just a dirt in the eye.” The bigger man grunted. “Surprised you caught that with a one-eye.”
“Saw u sweating too, nervous much?” The visitor grunted back quickly.
Zeep felt like this many times before with this particular friend of his. As if his brain was transparent and his minds all seen through. This old friend was a former raider of his, an adviser and tactician and everything else u can name. But he left the band one day, leaving nothing behind. Ever since then, Zeep’s raiders had been rolling downhill. Mans starved and died. The warriors just wasn’t efficient enough without the brain.
“Just having trouble with people, happens time to time. I can’t avoid it because people are so unpredictable. You just can‘t make any sense of it.” Zeep said lowly, he hoped to get the message on to his old friend.
The friend understood the meaning quickly, Zeep was referring to his sudden departure from the camp. Unpredicted and sudden, leaving no reasons to make sense of.
“Had businesses to finish.” said the visitor.
“Why are you back here?’
“I was expecting more of a welcome home.”
“I asked, why are you’r here.”
Zeep was angry, after all these years, this scumbag has the guts to return to the people who he had once left behind to fade.
“I came here because I have nowhere else to go.” the visitor admitted.
Zeep was surprised to see him act this way. One eye he knew was a proud man not ever seen admitting anything.
“Been through places, and decided that I should be spending last moments of my life with old friends, closest thing I have to a family.” said One eye.
One eye had no family or relatives. One eye himself looked old as he once lived in days of pre-war. We were his friends and family. We were the closest thing he had left.
“You are not welcomed here.” Zeep lied.
“You are lying.” One eye replied. “You guys need the brain back just much as I need you guys. I still have a eye-left, your mans are in edge of breakin apart.
Zeep didn’t like how his friend was all-knowing. The friendly feeling made Zeep feel young again, that the old crew is back and ready to jump wild once again in the wasteland.
“You will have to earn your way in like everyone else.” Zeep replied.
“I thought I did that ten years ago.”
“As you know, we are running short of supplies.” Zeep ignored One-Eye’s comment. “You bring us 5 day supplies of food, and you are in.”
Zeep knew this was a impossible task. Even for a old mastermind. Food was scarce in the Arizona desert. One-Eye took his time thinking a bit and asked,
“What date is it?”
“thirteenth of July, why?”
“Give me seven man, scopes attached. I will be back in three days.”
Two days past, and the king returned. On the shoulders of each man carried a sack of potatoes sprinkled on top with some ammunitions and full tanks of gas. He also brought in three salvagers as prisoners.
The king had returned, and his subjects rejoiced.
Zeep glanced at the crowd from the higher ground. On his left was a bloody chain saw. On his right, a head of a dead man. Fresh blood and sweat mingled, creating a deadly fume. His skin cooked and his blood boiled under the merciless sun.
“I meant it, I meant it when I said no more stealin!” Zeep growled at the crowd. The crowd was silent.
“Let this be a warnin to all you folks.” Zeep said now in more serious voice. “I know we are hungry, we all are. but stealin ain’t tolerable.”
There was a murmurs from the crowd, one brave spoke out in anger. “We haven’t ate in ages!” the man barked. “We’r desperate!”
Zeep noticed the owner of the angry voice. Man carried the name of lock, skinny man who seemed weaker but dangerous than ever. Zeep eyed him to silence but he didn’t stop.
“U call yourself chief, but u can’t even feed us.” Lock said in anger once again. There was a challenge in his voice. “Can’t remember last time I ate. We can’t live on dirts no more.”
Zeep swiped his forehead with his arms, smearing blood and other things even more. It was a habit he developed when he felt nervous and trapped. His nervous eyes oversaw the angry crowd. Tides were on him now.
“Listen.” said Zeep. “It’s gonna be different this time. This time …”
“Fuck this.” Yelled one of the crowd and left.
“No, listen.” said Zeep. “This time.. this time it’s gonna be…”
“What do think what’s stopping us from going and checkin the supplies tent ourselves?” Lock interrupted filled with both rage and excitement as he saw numbers on his side. “Bet it’s filled with your dinner ain’t I right? What’s stopping us?”
“Come and try.” Zeep dropped the head, and made a hard grip on the handle of the saw.
Lock and his boys stepped back, feelin threatened. “we can‘t run on weeds forever.” Lock spat on the ground and left the crowd. There was more mummers and angry talks, but crowd eventually broke apart. Zeep loosened his grip. After enjoying short sigh of relief, Zeep walked down from the hill and quietly walked to his tent.
Zeep’s tent was separated from the main camp. Uniquely decorated with the bones of both man and creatures. The leather it was made out of was slowly wearing out. Just like everything else in his miserable little band of raiders of his.
Zeep entered to see a old friend. The visitor was a small rusted man, the pilot hat was his crown, rugged coat was his robe. He wielded only a single eye, but his sharp looks gave a man goosebumps as powerful as eyes of the beast. Visitor broke the ice.
“I saw you wiping your face up there.” The visitor said in a old, and rusted voice.
“Just a dirt in the eye.” The bigger man grunted. “Surprised you caught that with a one-eye.”
“Saw u sweating too, nervous much?” The visitor grunted back quickly.
Zeep felt like this many times before with this particular friend of his. As if his brain was transparent and his minds all seen through. This old friend was a former raider of his, an adviser and tactician and everything else u can name. But he left the band one day, leaving nothing behind. Ever since then, Zeep’s raiders had been rolling downhill. Mans starved and died. The warriors just wasn’t efficient enough without the brain.
“Just having trouble with people, happens time to time. I can’t avoid it because people are so unpredictable. You just can‘t make any sense of it.” Zeep said lowly, he hoped to get the message on to his old friend.
The friend understood the meaning quickly, Zeep was referring to his sudden departure from the camp. Unpredicted and sudden, leaving no reasons to make sense of.
“Had businesses to finish.” said the visitor.
“Why are you back here?’
“I was expecting more of a welcome home.”
“I asked, why are you’r here.”
Zeep was angry, after all these years, this scumbag has the guts to return to the people who he had once left behind to fade.
“I came here because I have nowhere else to go.” the visitor admitted.
Zeep was surprised to see him act this way. One eye he knew was a proud man not ever seen admitting anything.
“Been through places, and decided that I should be spending last moments of my life with old friends, closest thing I have to a family.” said One eye.
One eye had no family or relatives. One eye himself looked old as he once lived in days of pre-war. We were his friends and family. We were the closest thing he had left.
“You are not welcomed here.” Zeep lied.
“You are lying.” One eye replied. “You guys need the brain back just much as I need you guys. I still have a eye-left, your mans are in edge of breakin apart.
Zeep didn’t like how his friend was all-knowing. The friendly feeling made Zeep feel young again, that the old crew is back and ready to jump wild once again in the wasteland.
“You will have to earn your way in like everyone else.” Zeep replied.
“I thought I did that ten years ago.”
“As you know, we are running short of supplies.” Zeep ignored One-Eye’s comment. “You bring us 5 day supplies of food, and you are in.”
Zeep knew this was a impossible task. Even for a old mastermind. Food was scarce in the Arizona desert. One-Eye took his time thinking a bit and asked,
“What date is it?”
“thirteenth of July, why?”
“Give me seven man, scopes attached. I will be back in three days.”
Two days past, and the king returned. On the shoulders of each man carried a sack of potatoes sprinkled on top with some ammunitions and full tanks of gas. He also brought in three salvagers as prisoners.
The king had returned, and his subjects rejoiced.
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