The Wasteland: Traveler
#2 of The Wasteland
I must've been walking for hours. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon. Still, I have found nothing. Until I came over a hill, quickly spotting a traveling fur and a mule carrying a bunch of bags. What's odd though is that they appeared to be in a hurry. I hid behind the hill, watching his movements surreptitiously. I was incredibly hungry, and if this guy had anything useful or edible, I plan on taking it. Luckily, he hadn't spotted me. He was going right, so I'll have to sneak around the hill and catch him from behind. I implemented my plan quickly, working well enough as I quickly and quietly made my way up to him, his back turned towards me. I slid the knife out of my left boot and gripped it tight, my right hand holding one of the handguns. I rushed him quickly, knife at his throat, gun in the back of his head with my finger on the trigger. Now that I was close I can see he was a german shepherd, his body lined with dusty black and tan fur and thick muscle. He was a couple inches taller than me, and really young. Probably only in his 20's.
"Hey there. What's in the bags?" I asked, referring to the mule who also came to a stop.
He chuckled, the joke lost on me.
"Supplies. I was taking them over to that one town, Grandiose," he explained to me rather calmly.
"Is there a reason I shouldn't pull this trigger right now?" I asked with a growl.
"Hmm...maybe. You look a little young to be one of those murderous psychopaths," he said monotonously.
I kept quiet, pressing the knife a little harder against his throat to get my point across.
"Err...what I mean is, if you need some shelter or food, I was heading over to town and I'd be more than happy to help you out," he said hopefully.
What to do. The smart thing would be to kill him and his mule now and take their things. But he was right. I wasn't one of those crazy assholes nor did I want to be. Besides, he seemed nice enough.
"...Alright...umm...thanks," I said, still a little suspicious of him.
I stepped back, keeping my weapons in hand just in case. He turned around to get a look at his almost-killer. My long-ish dark brown, almost black, hair shifting around my face as the wind blew, the plaid cloth following a similar movement around my waist. My thin legs being showed off by these painfully tight shorts.
"That's...uhh...quite the outfit," he said with a smile.
He himself was wearing a brown leathery pilot's jacket, the collar laid flat with fluffy white artificial fur on the inside. It was zipped completely down, showing of his furry chest and chiseled abs. His white cargo shorts billowed slightly with the wind. He too had combat boots on strapped around his footpaws. They must be the style now. He had a revolver on one hip and a knife in the other.
I scowled at his cutesy comment. My irritation was soon replaced with curiosity as I heard the rev of an engine. He must've noticed it too as we both turned towards the hill as the sound came closer. A motorcycle flew over the hill, a wolf in a helmet swinging a chain.
"I TOLD YOU! YOU RUN, AND I'D KILL YOU! I FUCKING TOLD YOU!" he yelled menacingly towards me.
"Oh no! They found me!" I said, panic filling my voice.
The wolf quickly came at me and swung the chain straight at me. I aimed my gun, but I was too late. The chain struck me across the chest, my body flung to the side as blood sprayed out into the air. I grunted as I hit the ground with my chest, incredible pain keeping me immobilized. My eyes were screwed shut in pain, but I managed to hear gunshots being fired. Then, someone grabbed my legs and threw me back, a motorcycle thrashing forward in the spot I was lying in. I yelled out in pain as the wicked gash on my chest struck the ground once more. I feebly pushed myself off the ground, standing myself on my hands and knees, blood dripping down to the dusty earth. I felt a hand on my shoulder, stroking it soothingly. I looked up panting and saw the german shepherd from before, his revolver in his right hand.
I looked over to where the wolf was and saw him lying motionless on the ground. The traveller must've shot him off and pulled me away from the uncontrolled motorcyle.
"Stay here. Let me get some things to patch you up," he told me, walking over to the mule.
I didnt' have much choice, the laceration bleeding and pumping pain throughout my body. He came back with a med kit, and eased me into a sitting position. He gently removed my shirt, the white letters soaked red. I winced as he disinfected the wound, biting my tongue while he wrapped gauze over my trembling frame.
"Can you stand?" he asked me carefully.
I tried to stand up, but with every movement, I had to stop and cringe from pain.
"C-can you help me out?" I asked him, looking up into his green eyes.
He picked me up from my armpits and lifted me up with ease. I managed to hold my own, though my legs were shaking slightly.
I looked over to him and asked, "Where's my shirt?"
He picked it up and handed it to me. The blood stood out clearly against the letters, but it wasn't very noticable in the rest of the black shirt. It was a little painful, but I managed to slide it back on. I went over to pick up my dropped weapons, failing to bend over and having to ask for assistance. I blushed red at how pathetic I felt. He must've noticed because he gave me a grin before sliding my knife back in my boot and handing me my gun. I put it back in the right holder on my hip that I drew it from.
"So. Friend of yours?" he asked, daring at humor now that I was stable.
"Yeah. They like to play rough," I said with a slight smile.
"I'm glad they underestimated me and only sent one. Any more and neither of us would be breathing," I told him seriously as we headed off for Grandiose.
"Well they were right to underestimate you. Went down pretty quick. I'm the one they gotta watch out for," he said with a wink.
"Well. Pardon me. Would you like to take a chain across the chest next time?" I asked with bitter sarcasm.
He gave out a deep, rather masculine laugh before replying.
"How about I just keep both of us safe?" he said patting the revolver.
"Umm...I'm sorry, but which one of us has a shotgun again?" I asked, making sure to show it off as it swung around my back with my steps.
"How did you get so decked out anyways? You're like a walking armory," he said admiring the riot gun and grenades jingling at my side.
"I just borrowed some things from my friends. Guess they're pretty upset about it. Speaking of guns, shouldn't you use this time to reload?"
"Oh! Yeah. I always forget to reload the damn thing," he said taking it out and flicking the chamber open, expertly putting bullets in it from the cases in his shorts, and flicking it back shut before holstering it.
"You're...pretty...good...with that..." I muttered, suddenly aware of my unbearable thirst and hunger.
"You okay?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
"You remember the reason I had a gun to your head? I'm kinda dying of thirst and starvation."
He stopped the mule, taking out a bottle of water and a an energy bar, handing both to me. I gulped down about half of the water, devoured the bar, then swallowed down the rest of my water, panting once I finished. I tossed the wrapper but stored the empty bottle in my bag since it could prove useful later.
"Where did you get this stuff?" I asked, honestly curious about where the supplies came from.
"A governmental farm. They get travelers like me to take the supplies to towns that need 'em. I get paid pretty good too. The more supplies I bring, the higher the pay. Although you get desperate loners like you that are an employment hazard," he said chuckling, obviously the joking type.
After that we just poked fun at each other, talking about our recent lives and how things have changed so quickly in the year or so that the bombs fell. We came across this disgustingly mutated deer, the eyes blank, fur gone, and antlers abnormaly large. It charged at us, so I figured this would be good practice for me. I grabbed my left gun, used both hands for more stable handling and fired a couple shots. After a round of applause from funny guy, we kept on walking, talking some more as we did. Turns out he turned 25 about 3 months ago, then he asked me how old I was.
"Umm...what's today?" I asked, unsure if I've had a birthday or not.
"Let's see...When I left the farm it was the 19th so...September 21st."
"Oh. Well. Happy 17th birthday to me," I mumbled to myself.
"What?! We should celebrate!" he said excitedly.
I looked at him as if he's lost his mind.
"Look around! There's nothing out here!" I said a little louder than I should've. My birthday always put me in a bad mood.
"Actually...Grandiose should be right...over...there!"
We had been following a destroyed concrete road for a few hours, finally seeing as it lead into an impressive city, the sun setting just behind it. A wall of scrap metal and barbed wire surrounded it, the larger buildings made stable with whatever resources were available at the time. We came over to the entrance when we were stopped by some guards.
"Stop! Who are you and why are you here?" asked a doberman in camo clothing. The other guard, a rhino, just remained silent.
"My name is Adrian. I've brought supplies from the Cheddershire Government Farm," the german shepherd explained to them.
"And the kid?" he asked, tilting his head at me. Adrian turned to me, not really sure how to introduce me.
"Umm...I'm Michael," I told them, "and I'm just going along with this guy," I explained, pointing at the german shepherd.
"Heh. I catch your drift. Alright go on in. Take the supplies to the agency and you'll receive your payment," he told Adrian. They opened the gate and the two of us entered Grandiose.
Behind us the guards began chatting.
"You see the ass on that kid? So tight..." the doberman told the rhino, glancing back to get one more eyeful of tight shorts over firm ass.
"Yeah. One lucky son of a bitch, that dog," the rhino told his buddy in a stalwart voice.
Meanwhile, Adrian and I began walking, me taking in all the sights. It had been so long since I'd been free of confinement! The people were out, free of work at this time, having fun. Albeit drunken fun, but fun nonetheless. We entered one of the tall buildings, Adrian leading the mule to the front desk. The vixen on duty went over the supplies, and handed Adrian his payment. 40 quarters so...10 dollars in pre-war times. After the bombs fell, paper money was all but useless. So, coins became the main currency. To be honest, 40 quarters was quite a bit. No wonder he did this job. Although it is pretty dangerous transporting supplies with desperate loners like me around. I chuckled quietly at my own joke as we walked out.
"So then," the canine turned towards me with a smile, "let's get a room and some vodka. Then we can get your party started."
I smiled at the idea.