FSE

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The Demonic Plague and the Scourge have ravaged the Southern US in the wake of World War 3, claiming nearly every animal who survived the bombs. It is extremely rare to cross a sane animal, and even rarer to encounter one who hasn't fallen to the Plague, or been Scourged.

It wasn't until later that night, right around 10 or eleven that we found a good place to hole up. We'd come into the small town of Booth, old place that was in the middle of absolute nowhere, all things considered. The town seemed empty, and since there was a river running close by, I figured it would be a good place to hide out for the time being. The house itself was two stories high and had two, four plate windows on each floor with A Frame slopes over the two higher windows. The roof was shingled and appeared to with time and the bright sunlight have faded from black to grey The paneling of the house seemed to consist primarily of hardy plank and sand, as well as burn marks from either a fire or the sun, was hard to tell. Dead, shriveled up shrubs and the remnants of what may or may not at one point have been a midget palm tree lay in a garden bed that had been stripped of nutrients and filled with sand and gravel while every single window on the house was double boarded with two by fours and a sheet of plywood underneath it, screwed in with hex key severe duty screws. The front door was a night door as well, covered with a piece of heavy sheet metal, probably two or three sheets and the door knob was an old school dead bolt, requiring a turn to open and close. My guess was that the previous occupant, or current occupant god forbid, had reinforced the entrances to his home to keep would be looters out. If there was someone home, I hoped they were a pacifist because if they weren't we'd have a fire fight on our hands. I pulled the Ford to a stop and shut it off, grabbing my shotgun from the mount behind the seat and exiting, Benjamin close behind me.

"Place looks occupied", Eirren said shutting her door.

"I hope not", I said yawning, "because at this time of night it's shoot first and ask questions later. Last thing I want is to end up wiping out an entire family simply trying to defend their home."

"You know we can try this thing called knocking", Shannon said, 'we don't have to breach and clear every building we run across."

"What if they're asleep and don't hear us come in?", Benjamin asked, "I've seen crazier shit happen."

"Someone's not gonna hear us barge in after blowing their door off the hinges with a shotgun?", Shannon asked, "or hell, even knocking it in if it's locked?"

"It's not as far fetched as you might think", Eirren said as we stacked up, us on one end and the girls on the other, "I knocked over a bunch of breakable shit one night coming home from class and Hunter, who was basically a gun for hire for the Canadian military, never even grunted despite being asleep on the couch."

"Probably knew it was you", Zack said, "I was the same way with my girlfriend even after the shit I went through overseas."

I knocked on the door, just loud enough to be heard and not draw any extra attention to ourselves, I waited for a few seconds, then tried again. My knuckles had just contacted the door when I heard the AC outback cycle on.

"Well", I said as my entire group tensed up. I put my shotgun tight into my shoulder, "someone's home...that's for damn sure."

"No fucking way they don't know we're here", Eirren said, "what do we do?"

"How about introducing yourselves?", I heard a voice call from the second story window, "mine stays down if yours do."

I looked up, in the left hand second story window was a Southern Dragon wrapped up tightly in USMC Marpat desert digital with a Mk14 EBR in his paws. The rifle had very little in the way of mods other than a scope and bipod, but he was holding the weapon in a way that told me he trained the way he fought, which meant even being hardened against the wasteland's shit he could still put up a hell of a fight.

"My name's Arien Kyvart", I said lowering my Shotgun, "I'm in charge of this pack, we're just looking for a place to hole up for a couple of days while we scavenge the necessary equipment to head deeper south."

"Must be a pretty long list there brother", the dragon said slightly lowering his firearm, "I thought I had a death wish, you must have one something fierce, or have a pair the size of the US to want to keep going south. Demons get increasingly worse the further south you go."

"We know", Shannon said, "long as they don't hit us in packs of five or more we'll be fine. Mind letting us stay a while? We'll make it worth your time."

"Somehow", I added.

The Dragon now held his firearm at his side, like you do when you're heading around a corner, but your barrel is too long to get around it, "you guys are fucking crazy, but you look like you can handle yourselves. Don't leave your truck out front, it might be dead of all life out here, but the sun will bleach that black paint white in the span of a day. Come in, I'll unlock the way for you."

The Dragon disappeared inside the house, shutting the window tightly behind him. Soon, the garage door came open, revealing our new aquatint. He was right around 6'5 and clad from head to toe in dirty brown colors and combat gear. His combat shirt was zipped as high as it could go with his balaclava tucked into his collar. Even though it was nighttime, he still wore some very dark sunglasses. His boots weren't bloused, telling me he wasn't Ex-Military, rather someone who simply knew what the hell he was doing, or maybe he was an Ex marine and no longer gave a care about uniform crap. His gloves were a size too big, and in the area between where his gloves ended and the sleeves of his combat shirt began, I could see a little strip of cracked and bleeding skin.

"You all right there dude?", I asked, "your skin looks cooked."

"Yeah", the dragon said, "I got a wicked sun burn a few days ago. See, I'm an Arctic underneath all of this shit."

Shannon's eyes went wide, "bruh, how have you managed to not die of heat stroke?"

"I don't go out in the light", the dragon said, "not any more, at least not if I don't have to. I avoid it like the plague, since the bombs fell and all my scales fell off, the sun has been my worst nightmare."

"Sun burn requires light though", Zack noted, "and if the sun is your worst enemy?"

"I made an error and paid the price for it", the dragon said, "I don't wish to discuss."

"I understand", I said.

"Pull your Ford in here", the dragon said, "I've still got showers and washing machines that work, so you all can clean up."

"Beats a perforated coffee can in the Walmart restroom", Zack smiled, "here I'll pull the Ford in."

I gave him the keys and followed the dragon into his home. Unlike most of the other houses that I'd seen, instead of the garage leading directly into the kitchen, it led into a carpeted hallway. The hallway was about ten or eleven feet long and had four rooms branching off of it in a staggered column. None of the doors in the hallway were opened and the carpet was rather beaten down and faded from years of traffic. The hallway lead us into a small room that acted like a lobby, allowing basement access and access to the living room via another door that branched off into the living room, which had been turned into a sort of supply cave. Racks lined each wall and were stuffed with supplies and equipment ranging from food and ammunition to water and fuel and even paper products. He had some spare blankets and sleeping pads on their own dedicated shelf as well with battery powered and corded fans, cases of batteries and other heat managing supplies. The kitchen was a similar story, packed full of all kinds of scavenged supplies. One thing I couldn't help but notice were that all of his windows were boarded up, inside and out.

"Why are your windows boarded?", I asked.

"A few reasons", The dragon said, "The first is that the light out here is killer during the day, I'm sure you've established that. The second is that the heat is even worse, especially being an Arctic. I boarded the windows from the outside and raided a McCoy's in a neighboring town for the thickest insulation I could find and stuffed the window's full of it before I covered them up on this end. Over the past three years, I've re insulated the entire house. The inside walls have been redone about three times each as I got better, resealed with lots of plaster and beige latex paint. Helps keep the heat out and means I don't need to use the central AC so much, which is good because power is a hard thing to come by these days."

"We heard it cycle on when we were outside", Zack said joining us and handing me back the keys to the Ford.

"I know", the dragon said, "I heard you pull up to, woke me up outta the first sleep I've had in like a week. Put a muffler on that thing."

"It's got one", Zack said, "I mean it's not at all sized right for that size engine, but it does have one."

The dragon shook his head, "feel free to clean up, showers and washing machines work. You're more than welcome to stay for as long as you need to get the equipment you need, but before you go off half cocked thinking you'll gonna just keep pushing South, I have to warn you."

"About?", Shannon asked.

"I am the last sane animal you will meet between here and Carson City Nevada", The dragon said, "south of here is all bleached desert like nothing you've ever seen. The Demons like to hide in the sand and ambush whatever creatures come along, Animal, Rabid, other Demons, doesn't matter. If it's got any amount of meat on it's bones they'll jump it, unless of course, the prey in question is a Demonic Northern."

We all exchanged glances.

"Why are you all looking at me like I'm crazy?", The dragon asked, "You think I'm lying?"

"It's just the way you said "Demonic Northern", Shannon said, "I'm familiar with Demons, but I've never heard the term Demonic Northern before."

"Southern Demons are one thing", the dragon began, "Eastern and Western are an entirely different can of worms as well, but the common denominator is a lack of fear of their targets, until of course they spy a Northern that's fallen to the Demonic Plague."

"Demonic Plague?", I asked.

"Rabies might have been started by the bombs", the dragon said setting his M14 on the kitchen counter and leaning on the table, looking down at his paws, "but the Demonic Plague crawled out of the darkest pit in hell and Lucifer himself granted it right of passage to Earth out of pure fear. I don't know how you contract it, but it changes you. It's like something sucks all of the moisture out of your body, causing your skin to turn yellow, harden and crack, causing scales peel off in sheets. Within a few days, your scales are gone and your teeth begin to harden, you notice things get a bit clearer, sounds become easier to hear, easier to smell and your paw pads become more sensitive. Then, you just need meat, doesn't matter where it comes from. Male, female, Animal, Rabid, other demons, the dead, even yourself, who cares anymore? You strip flesh wherever you can, picking your first kill clean of even the cartilage in the joints, but your stomach is still screaming out in hunger pains. The insanity sets in because you always want more. You start cracking open the bones of your kills to suck the marrow out but even that's not enough, you still want more. Before too long, when you make a kill you just chew bone and flesh all at once and finish off a kill in minutes, but still it's not enough. You're a Demon now, and you will stop at nothing for your next kill."

There was a pause. The dragon sat down at his table. You'd have to have an IQ somewhere beneath a grain of sand not to tell that he was a Demon himself underneath all of his gear. I wasn't sure what to think. I mean we'd met a few sane Rabids, but the way he described this...this affliction...it left me wondering how he'd kept his head on his shoulder's enough to speak in complete sentences. Shannon put her paw on the dragon's shoulder.

"It's disease. Like any, it can be treated", she assured, "I'm a Veterinarian. I can help."

He shook his head, "No...you really can't. The only treatment for the Plague is a point blank shotgun blast to the face. The only real way you can treat the Plague is to give into what it wants. Trust me, I've dealt with it for a bit."

"How long have you been living like this brother?", Zack asked pulling up a chair and sitting next to him.

The dragon sighed a long sigh, "since the first ZR-5 detonated. Bandits have come by a few times these past few years and always tried to loot the house. During one of the worse episodes of hunger induced insanity, I stepped out the front door and confronted six armed guys like twice my size with absolutely nothing but my claws and teeth. I wasn't even wearing my fatigues. My exact words were, "shot me in the head. Don't miss, I'll eat all of you if you do."

He paused and looked around.

"After that, I just remember standing over the last one with someone's intestine hanging out of my mouth, covered in bloody sand", he shivered, "I asked him, "why did you miss?" right before I mauled him to death. I picked the sand clean of every little bit of flesh I could.

"Damn dude", I sighed taking a seat at the table.

"I would crack open the bones of the grim reaper himself and suck the marrow out of them if he gave me half a chance", the dragon said, "I was out scavenging a few weeks ago and another Demon jumped me, I ended up making a snack of her without a second thought. Only thing that bothered me was that I cut her neck and ended up staining one of my uniforms. Look the point is, I get extremely vulnerable to psychotically violent outbursts of homicidal rage the longer I go without a kill, but even at my most violent I can only get so bad. The level of violence a Demonic Northern is capable of even with a stomach full of fresh kill is unlike anything that you have ever seen and I mean that. I thought the Africans in the Western Trench were violent."

"You were there?", Zack asked.

He nodded, "were you?"

"Staff Sargent Zack Thompson, 82nd Airborne", Zack said.

"5th Rangers", the dragon said, "Corporal James Mason. I remember hearing about you, getting blown up by an artillery shell and skewered with bayonets, then turning around and cooking thee of Africa's most feared Landships with an M1900 avenger."

Zack and the dragon shook hands, "Well, I'd be lying if I denied those claims. You'd be surprised what you're capable of when the adrenaline starts pumping and you stop holding back. Anything we can do to help you while we're down here?"

"Well, for starters if you know of a way to cure the Demonic Plague, I would owe you a debt I could never pay back", James said, "if not, then the question isn't what you can do for me, but what I can do for you, but before we go any further, I am the last sane animal you'll see between here and Carson City Nevada as I've already said. Everyone else is either dead, Scourged or a Demon."

"Backup, a Scourged?", I asked.

"You guys haven't seen any yet, but I remember them.", Shannon said turning to us, "Scourged are the victims of whatever the hell kind of bomb the South Americans used on us further south. They weren't outright vaporized like most, instead, they got boiled alive in their own fluids. I saw a few of them wander into the clinic in the weeks following the bombs. They're weak because of how badly injured they are, but all their mangled and open skin is a breeding ground for all kinds of absolutely terrifying diseases. They're like walking bio-hazard waste bins and they'll bite you if you get too close."

"Even we Demons avoid them", James said, "my head starts to pound with all the reasons I want nothing to do with them every time I see the outline of one in a store window. Doesn't matter how frisky I'm feeling or hungry I am, I avoid them."

"They're easy enough to take out with any kind of Firearm though", Shannon said, "just don't go trying to fight one hand to hand unless you really want to get infected with something I can't treat. On the bright side, you instinctively avoid them because if they get too close your head starts to pound with all kinds of warnings."

"Listen to her", James said, "You guys are welcome to stay as long as you like, feel free to stock your packs and truck with anything from the store room. I've also got some desert gear in the basement I think you guys could use, it's all Arid Multicam and should help you blend in better when you get further south. As far as heat control, I've got a few battery operated fans and small portable air conditioners that should make life more bearable when you stop for the day. I'm sure you've already seen what the heat can do to a vehicle."

"We're aware", Zack said.

"Well", James sighed, "I'm going to go back to bed, make yourselves at home."

He picked up his M14 and went up stairs, shutting his bedroom door tightly. Zack exhaled loudly.

"I thought I was scared of the idea of going Rabid", he said, "but I can't fathom actually being driven to eat rotten flesh off a skeleton and then eat the skeleton as well."

"I thought I went through hell", Nat said.

"No shit", Ben agreed.

"Well, at least we have an ally, someone who knows the area", I said.

"Come on Arien", Shannon said, "say what we're all thinking."

"What do you mean?", I asked.

"Oh don't gimme that", she returned, "you're not gonna sit there and say you trust someone whose admitted to being quote "extremely vulnerable to psychotically violent outbursts of homicidal rage" unquote AND admitted that he'll eat dead shit he finds just laying around?"

"Well, I've made some questionable choices in the past", I said, "this wouldn't be the first time."

"So you do trust the crazy dragon then huh?", She asked.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say you don't", Nat said.

There was a pause, then Zack spoke up.

"What the hell happened to neutral till proven hostile?", he asked.

"That only applies to sane animals", Shannon said.

Zack sighed, "Shannon, many an insane animal has helped me out of insane situations. He hasn't given us a reason not to trust him. I mean the guy has given us free reign of his supply stash for god's sake. If that doesn't earn someone a golden ribbon of trust these days...what will?"

"Maybe it's just because I'm Ex Military too", Ben said, "but I kinda have to take Zack's side here. I mean he obviously trusts us, enough to put stock in the idea we won't kill him in his sleep and rob him blind."

"I still say he's up to something", Shannon said, "we have no reason to trust him."

"We had no reason to trust you."

"Fair enough", Shannon said, "still though someone should pull guard duty so he doesn't the idea of just coming down at night and chowing down."

"I'll sleep with my helmet off", Nat said, "I'm getting more radioactive with each passing day, if he tries anything he'll fry."

"Just your helmet?', Benjamin asked with a toothy grin.

"Shut up Ben", Nat said, "there are two little puppies around."

Ben laughed, "stop trying to change me."

"Oh hell", Nat shrugged, "I gave up on that before we even became mates."

I shook my head. We mostly chose to camp out in the garage near the Ford using a bunch of the cots we found in Jame's store room. We all had agreed that we wouldn't touch any of his food or other equipment without him being around to see what we were doing. We all took turns with the shower, getting in and out as quickly as we could just in case James only had a limited water supply. Even though he'd had said he'd get us new fatigues, we all chose to wash what we had anyway because at least then we'd have clean clothes either way. We'd also come to the group decision that spending the next day getting all of our equipment sorted and prepared for the trip further south and discussing the equipment we needed to get to keep pushing forward with James was the the best course of action. He knew the area, and likely knew where, or knew how, to obtain everything we would need. Despite knowing we would end up towing a trailer behind the Ford after all was said and done, what kind of trailer we needed seemed to now be a raging debate topic. Zack had taken to the school of thought that towing a big silver Airstream would make us to visible out in the desert, with the unfinished metal acting like a mirror to any entity in the wasteland with eyes that still worked. His suggestion instead was that we should get a simple parts trailer we could fill with the barrels for water and fuel and the generator we'd need to run a portable AC to keep the Ford chilled during the day. For that to work though, the fourth row seating would have to be taken out and I wasn't sure I was willing to do it because Nero and Mya had been camping on it. The girls were wanting the full fledged camper because of the extra space we'd have to store equipment and move around while we waited out the day, but still couldn't deny that the unfinished exterior would attract all kinds of unwanted attention. Eventually, after much debate, we came to the decision that a medium sized equipment trailer was probably our best bet. Insulated the right way, and maybe with some carpet stolen from another house and a chair or two, it would allow us a place to avoid the heat while also allowing us to carry extra water and Diesel fuel as well as the generator we'd need to power it. Two of us could pull guard duty on the Ford while the others hid out in the trailer, switching out when the guards got too hot. Something small enough could maybe be rattle-caned desert tan too, assuming we could find enough spray paint. I figured we'd be camping here for at least a few days, maybe a week or a week and a half while we gathered everything together and assembled everything. I had a feeling that, because of my desert genes, there would be a lot put squarely on me simply because I was more at home in the desert than my friends were. Ben and Nat had the Corium, because of that, I didn't know if the heat would bother them, but time would tell I supposed.

I was up rather early the next morning. Even though the sun wasn't up yet, I could already feel the heat starting to set in. Peering out through the reinforced windows of the garage door, I had a great view of the barren landscape. Booth was a small town, and a good many of it's houses were visible even though the area was quite hilly, all things considered. I could hear James doing something upstairs, and since he was the only one awake, I decided to go have a chat with him, pick his brain about what I should expect further South I went, didn't want any more surprises. I quietly padded upstairs, knocking on his bedroom door.

"Which one of you is it?", he asked.

"Arien", I said.

"Come in", he said.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open. Had you ever wanted to look someone who was truly defeated in the eyes? Someone who had absolutely nothing to live for, but the fear of death kept him alive? Right then and there, I did. I saw a look of despair in that dragon's eyes, a look I hadn't seen before. Like Nero, James was blind, but unlike Nero, whose eyes still had life in them, Jame's were dead. He was sitting on a bean bag chair with a fan blowing on him with a cigarette in his hand and a full ash tray next to it. All of his skin was this ugly, yellow and brown color that was cracked open and had gashes in it that made me sick to my stomach. He was about as skinny as a dragon could get without being seriously ill. There was just...no life left in the guy. He looked like he'd been dead more than a few years. I sighed.

"I wish I could tell you those things will kill you", I said pulling up my pants legs, "but looks to me like the Wasteland did that a long time ago."

He flicked some of the ashes into the tray, blowing the smoke out from between his teeth away from me, "the Nicotine helps my cravings. I would have been all over you guys last night had it not been for all the tobacco I have stashed away. I smoked an entire stogie in the 30 seconds it took me to realize you all weren't hostiles."

"Some rabids said the same thing further north", I said, "the one who gave us our Ford was a pretty heavy smoker. Could smell it on him, they said the Nicotine helps with the cravings. Thankfully he never smoked in the Ford, I think is grandpa probably would have had his ass."

"I never liked the smell of cigarette smoke either", James smiled, taking another draw, "but it's either smell like a chimney or go fucking insane. If you get bit by a Demon, once you get that first craving light up right then and there, it'll do your mental state so much good."

"So how'd you go blind?", I asked.

"Western Trench", James said, "got a good whiff of some African C12. I'll never get that smell out of my head."

"Yeah. Same shit happened to me in the Arctic", I admitted.

"Operation Shattered Anchor?", James asked.

"Yeah", I answered.

"I could hear it in your voice", James said finishing his Cigarette, "Navy SEAL?"

"Airborne", I said, "82nd like my Dad. My brother was the Captain of the Battleship and my little brother Nick was one of the Marines."

"Drafted?", he asked.

"Me and Ben were yes", I said, "Nick had already been a Marine years prior, but he lost his wings and a leg in Afghanistan and they wouldn't let him come back, he was with Black Water when we were out there."

"How many animals died that day?", James asked.

"Right around fifteen thousand", I said, "no one was the same after that battle was over."

"No one was the same after the war was over", James said, "your oldest is blind too ain't he?"

"How'd you know?", I asked.

James chuckled, "he heard me tossing and turning on this shitty mattress and came upstairs to see what was up, a normal sight dependent wolf puppy couldn't have heard that."

"Yeap, Nero hears all kinds of things I never could", I said, "mind not ratting me out to my friends? I did some shit in the Arctic I'm not proud of."

"We all did shit during the war we ain't proud of brother", James said smoking the last of his cigarette right down to the butt and putting it out in the tray, immediately reaching into the orange Capri 120's carton next to him for another. He put it between his teeth, lit it up and took a long draw, blowing the smoke out through his teeth away from me, "I'm a good example of that. Heard of the 48-12 Massacre?"

I shook my head. James clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Guess they did a good job of covering it up. During cease fire hours one night, about 4 dozen Africans approached us on the Federation side unarmed. Kids, oldest with them was a 19 year old Lioness. Full of bullet holes, covered in mud and smelling of C12 and diesel fuel, the all got down on their knees and tried to surrender. Course, after having lost 1000 animals to their C12 attack not two hours ago, our commanding officer wasn't in the mood to accept."

"I have a pretty good idea where this is going", I sighed.

James sighed back, "on the spot, right in front of them, he ordered myself and the two other animals wearing flame kits to execute them", he sighed, clicking his tongue again, "I didn't become a Demon after the bombs fell, I became one that night, the second I lit that ignitier. Fire is a fucking cruel way to deal with an enemy combatant Arien, and someday, someone's gonna use it to put me down."

There was a long pause between the two of us. In that time, James finished his second cigarette and lit up a third, "When the last bomber landed, who do you think had actually won the war?"

I shook my head, "everyone who was carried home on a wave of nuclear fire."

"If I could go back in time and do one thing differently", James said finishing his third stogie, "I'd god back and turn that flame thrower on that CO. Watching those guys burn to death is something I can never un-see."

"I know how you feel brother", I said, "believe me I get it."

James sighed again, "I don't think you came up here to watch me smoke and rant about the past did you?"

I shook my head, "nah, came to pick your head about what I can expect further South."

"Don't expect to see another sane animal past my house", James said, "But Demons and Scourged? Man you'll see plenty of them. Demons you can dismember or disembowel, blunt force trauma, particularly the kind inflicted by a Shotgun, works best. Grenades and Molotov Cocktails can do the job if you see them first, but good luck with that."

"Anything I can look for that might tip me off to a Demon in my AO?"

"You won't ever get it from me because whenever I leave my house, I'm freshly showered and take great care to make sure none of my equipment has any lingering oder", James said, "Demons that stay in the field for a long time get this awful, overpoweringly strong iron smell that anyone with half a working nose can smell from 10-20 yards away, in extreme cases, I've been able to smell 'em as far as 35 yards off, but the advance warning doesn't help much because as a rule of thumb, if you can smell them, they're already moving in for the kill."

"Yeah, we didn't have much warning with the first three", I said, "they found Nat and made a beline for the kill. Any idea how sensitive a Demon is to radiation?"

"I couldn't tell you", James said, "why?"

"Have you heard of Medusa?"

James nodded, "Some traders down from Eire taking a Truck down to Carson City stopped by a few weeks ago and told me the story over coffee. A bomb that was destined for DC but went off in Burlington Vermont instead. Supposedly it could kill an animal with just it's flash and left some stupidly radioactive fog behind. They said a Ghost wanders the grounds."

I nodded, "every bit of what they said is true, I know. I've been through the Fog, and I met the Ghost."

"Is that so?", James asked.

"Mhmm", I said, "our friend in the suit, Nat, she's the one they call the Ghost. She's got this wicked mutation, or power, whatever you wanna call it that basically replaced her blood with a molten radioactive metal that's got the consistency of water. She's so extremely radioactive that anyone who gets around her will just fucking die, if she's not wearing her suit that is."

"Okay, so if the radiation will kill you if she takes her suit off, how the hell does she eat? Or take a fucking drink from a canteen?"

'Well", I began, "her radiation doesn't bother us. A dragon named Khen, who'd been her friend for a while after the war, is a master chemist, he created this pill that we all took that made us completely immune to her Radiation. We gave the last one to Shannon when she joined up with us. I was maybe wondering if you being a dragon had tried to lure prey into a Hotspot before."

James shook his head, "I think I probably lost my immunity with my scales. I don't know and I'm not taking the risk."

"I don't blame you", I said, "now, what can you tell me about the Scourged?"

"Well your friend was pretty much spot on. Their animals who got boiled alive in their own fluids and became breeding grounds for all kinds of disgusting shit. You can usually hear the flies buzzing shortly before you can put eyes on, and you'll smell them long before a Demon. What a Scourged is capable of largely depends on the individual, and as a general rule, you should do everything in your power to get away from them once you see them, if they see you, they'll always try to close the distance."

"Like everything else in the wasteland", I said.

"Exactly", James nodded, "thankfully Scourged are easy to smell and even easier to spot, just look for upright masses of blistered, angry red meat."

"I'll keep an eye out", I said, "I've got some other questions for you too."

"Like?", James asked.

"You know the area", I said, "my friends and I debated last night, and we decided to find and modify a parts trailer instead of trying to find a fully fledged camper because if visibility reasons. I can't say for certain what we'll need for the project, we'd have to find the trailer first and I was hoping you could help us with that."

"I can. There's an old trailer ranch the next town over, about a ten mile drive or so", James said, "I've never been through the area thoroughly, but I have been through enough to know it's pretty much untouched, so we should be able to find you something serviceable there easily enough. Unfortunately for us, the entire town is infested with Scourged, and I do mean it is infested."

"I don't like the way you said that", I sighed.

"There's something like three to four hundred people that lived in that town and almost all of them were Scourged after the bombs fell. I don't know what they're eating, hell maybe they don't even need to eat anymore. All I know is I don't go there. But, there's a water tower near the outskirts of the town that overlooks basically all of it. I'll dust off the M82 and provide over watch because up there I'll be-able to smoke without alerting the Scourged to your presence. Getting your trailer should be a breeze."

"Should be", I said, "but if you feel the need to pull out a .50 cal? Sounds like it'll be one hell of a hunt."

"Town full of monsters", James said, "but I bet it'll be a nice change of pace from the Rabids you've been dealing with."

I nodded, "won't it just?"

James finished his fourth cigarette and stood up, "alright, time to work for a living."