Advanced Role-Play Systems 

  • BARNEY HARRIS - CHAPTER 4

  • Tell your day-to-day stories here
Tell your day-to-day stories here
 #3437  by Ramblin Hans
 
Chapter 4

The quads in my legs throbbed as I topped the wooded hill, a slight burn edging in. The late morning sun shone brightly again today, bathing the valley below in a warm embrace. The verdure of spring was giving way to golden all across the wide basin. I stopped at my usual vantage point by an old stump, unstrapped the Emkavek pack and sat, breathing heavily. Sweat beaded and rolled down my forehead. I took it all in - the pines ringing the valley, the green and caramel pastures, a few weathered rooftops trailing down towards some rusting and broken down jeeps and trucks. And of course the long, cracking runway in the middle of it all.

When I had first arrived, my plans were clear. This must be a spot where airdrops or troops would be descending. At the time, even a semi-hostile army landing here seemed advantageous. The thought of becoming the prisoner of some foreign nation would be better than clinging to life in the rain soaked, brutal world of the unliving - slowly starving or worse. The gears had been fully engaged, cranking my plans and driving my body. I located hatchets, machetes, any farm implements I could. I tore every scrap of cloth and chopped piles of kindling. A box of road flares. Leveling that small grove of trees, splitting them, and hauling the wood had made my arms sore for weeks afterward. I had arranged the fires down there, on that airstrip, into the letters "SOS" and lit them night after night for nearly a week. When the piles of logs dwindled, and the flares gone, I lay there in the terminal watching. No one was coming, this place had been abandoned. We had all been abandoned. Or maybe all of humanity was facing the same fate. That thought stuck there, causing disruption in everything I had been planning. Every scenario I had considered began to spin of wildly into the unknown. Cogs separated and flew apart. I cried, and slept.

Image

When I had awoken the next morning, I felt strangely calm. Hope that this nightmare was reaching a happy ending had buoyed me, but now that was gone. Why do I feel tranquil? I walked over to the large hearth in the outdoor patio attached to the terminal, opened a can of beans, put them in the pot and set it over the coals still burning hot. I walked over and sat at one of the picnic benches, emptying my thoughts and just letting the raw perception redraw the picture for me. Forget the plans, forget rescue. Is there another option? During my time here I had become very familiar with this place. Two things immediately struck me. First, I had not seen another living soul here. Secondly when I was collecting all the tools I needed for my original intention, I had come across many fully stocked cupboards. I had gathered only what I needed to eat and brought it down here, but there was enough up there still for months. Maybe longer. And there hadn't been only axes in all the sheds but hoes, shovels, seeds, and fertilizer too. What did I know about farming? I knew fuck all, but given a year, I could learn to do anything. These small paths of thought began to converge, and I could see my road forward.

A small cloud eclipsed the sun for just a few moments, stirring me from my respite on the hill. I stood up from the tree stump, hefting the pack heavy with food and supplies onto my shoulders. My arms, my legs, my back - everything about me was stronger than it had been in a long time. A decade or more really, maybe even more so than after my basic training. Another month of these morning hikes around the Kpachoctab valley, and I surely would be. I descended down the hill, hugging the small path I had begun to wear down the tree line. It wasn't just my body that was strengthening, but my mind. I had found a surprising amount of English language books on the shelves in town, and now was at a point I could consume one in a matter of a few days. I memorized passages and replayed them in my head during my hikes, supplanting the waning desire for conversation. At the end of the line of trees and bushes a small enclave of farmhouses and cabins was nestled a few hundred yards from my airport home.

As I approached the house on the edge, an agitated gurgling and fleshy scratching could be heard from inside the front door. As I jogged by, a grotesque face with a mat of tangled blonde hair shadowed me past the window, its rotting flesh leaving a smear. "G'morning Sally", I said as I kept trotting. It let out a high pitched squelch as I moved out of view. At first I had killed one with a wood maul but afterward, as I looked for a sweater to replace the blood stained one I had, I shuddered thinking what might of happened if I actually had been bitten by it. After that, I employed stealth and a little planning instead. The unliving were really not all that alert, and as long as you saw them first, I could easily control the situation, luring them into a building I had already cleaned out and locking them inside. I did that for all of them I could find, marking the doors with some army green spray paint I found. Occasionally new ones wandered into town from who knows where, but for the most part the streets were safe.

I trotted by a fenced yard, where green pumpkins lay bulging and budding tomato plants leaned on stakes. Farming had actually proved easy, the soil was rich and the sunlight seemed to be the right amount. If there was any problem, it was the lack of rain, but a nearby well made this a non-issue. This garden would augment the growing stash of canned goods back in the janitorial closet in the terminal. I'd even begun to consider trying to learn to fish - ambitious, but the complete map of the region I had assembled showed a number of lakes within a reasonable distance. And it would be nice to have something besides sardines and bacon for protein.

Back at the terminal patio, I dropped the pack off and took my latest book from a small shelf. In mint condition and an early edition, it might actually have some monetary value, or would have been before the world turned in on itself. I carried it with me out into the sun, and stretched out onto the grass. Life was very comfortable here. Could it be possible I was actually happy? Quite possible, in fact I considered the prospect that I might be happier here than anytime I could recall in my adult life. No working for someone else. No boss. No bank accounts. No traffic. No god damned television. I hesitated, but then let the thought finish - no Svetla.

Image

A distant crack made me sit up, and stare off towards the radio tower to the northeast. Some clouds were far off in the distance there, with a hint of dark edge to them. Had it been thunder? I stared for a while. I knew in my mind there was still danger out there, but so far none had crept in and found me here.

"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing."