Well true, perhaps I'll have to change the weapon. M19 Anyone?
Chapter 3- Encounters of the Weary.
Journal Entry One-Day Unknown. I have finally decided a place to set up camp, its on what appears to be Montgue Road and near a forest preserve. I have decided to rest my sleeping cot high up in the branches for the night, I’m not sure what is to come bu- The crunch of a boot against the leafy ground alerted me to someone elses presence. I immediately froze, my muscles tense anticipating a zombie. I was surprised to see below me a person, in what looked like standard United States Military combat armor. Wary of my last encounter with a the Military Humvee I decided I better be a bit more careful this time. Slowly moving as to not make any noise, I launched myself of the branch and slammed into the person under me. He was knocked clean off his feet and was slammed into the ground, grunting as the 210 pounds worth of armor and human smashed into him. Leafs and grass were kicked up around and he tried to reach for his knife at his boot. I grabbed his wrist and twisted him into a headlock. He struggled against me until I eventual let him go, right into a hard tree. In the same process I twisted around my foot slamming it into him knocking him out.
Moving quickly I grabbed some rope from a pocket in my armor, which I snatched along my trip. Just in case. I tied him up and checked the knots repeatedly, I couldn’t risk him getting out. Knowing I wasn’t going to get any more sleep and not trusting my new companion I instead decided to sit myself against a tree trunk,, waiting for him to wake up.
Having the chance to examine, for all that it mattered to me., the only other person left on the planet. Aside from me obviously. I noticed some odd things. First of all he had a long bloody scar seeping across his right arm, it seemed infected. He was wearing Standard Marine Armor that was in a surprisingly good condition, he had no helmet and his moppy brown hair spread across his scalp like a disease. He had a pale face, and peeling back the eyelids I checked, bright blue eyes. Other then that I couldn’t tell much, so I got in a more comfortable position and waited for him to wake up.
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The second he woke up he started to look around wildly, anticipating danger. He looked like a chicken with his head cut off, I observed. It took a while for him to notice me but when he did he looked me in the eye, and spat. “Disgusting just like the rest of them aren’t you?” He almost screamed. “What are you going to eat me up like the rest, I guess it doesn’t matter even for us Millys ‘eh?” I just stared at him, giving him a long hard look and said.
“What could I have done?” He looked at me peculiarly after that, and stated simply.
“How about not tie my up like a bloody fucking meal?” I wasn’t really surprised at his comment, its obvious he’d seen some cannibalism from were ever the hell he came from. It didn’t surprised me at all that people resorted to such things so quickly. “Well” I said. “Are you?”
“Am I what?” He said, confusion laced in his eyes.
“A meal.” I said.
“Well it doesn’t seem like its by decision is it?” He uttered, anger evident In his demeanor. It was very odd how he changed emotions so much I thought. And I didn’t realize I said it allowed, I guess days alone didn’t help that.
“What?” He stated. “You insult me before you eat me, how great.” I rolled my eyes, grabbing his sawed off shot gun from my back and handing it to him. “You really think I’m going to eat you? Not a fellow milly.”I said, rolling the world between my tongue feeling its foreign qualities. “As you would put it.” I added, deciding the word just wasn’t for me. “I guess not” He took my shotgun and stood up, I followed in his suit and shook his outstretched hand. “So what regiment he asked?” Not intending to trigger my memories, of my escape from base. He looked at me oddly when I didn’t respond.
The sun was reflecting off the steel grey walls in an almost surrealist quality. The sign in front of the base proudly saying “Fort Homefront.” A name which I have always found amusing, I could almost picture some cigar smoking general saying. “Fort Homefront, its brilliant“ as he was blowing smoke rings. Today though was not a day for such lighthearted observations that I have played over in my mind dozens of times. Today was a day for shock, horror, blood and over all others, lead. The first warning came over the radio, warning of missiles. I was in the mess at the time, and when the news was broadcasted there was a mixed response. Some thought it was humorous and rather odd of command to play us as such fools to fall for a joke like that. Others were alarmed, knowing that missiles somehow penetrated out defenses by whatever means we were unaware of. The automatic response was Gas Masks, (after the report was verified of course) with this new age of chemical warfare it was paramount our fighting forces were intact even through the worst of chemical agents. Our second policy was to see to that all civilians were warned, Gas Masks have been a common household item ever since the war started. It wa “You there!” His voice shattered my thoughts, sending them into whatever abyss my mind was holding.
“Home Front” I said, remembering his question which I seemed to have cast aside. He looked at me strangely, a expression he seemed to be fond of. “You got out of that bloodbath?” I choked at his response and barely was able to manage the reply. “I guess no one else got out then?” He looked at me with sympathy and twisted around his hold on his gun. “From what I heard I guess so” was his reply. That brought up curiosity to the forefront of my mind, rather then the self-pity that had puddled around my thoughts. “Who told you.” I asked? He looked down at his feet, it was obvious he didn’t want to answer. “You don’- I started to say but he cut me off.
“Someone else who got out, I never got his name. He was killed before he got the chance.” I was about to ask how but he continued before I could. “We were looking for other survivors, when a group of Scavers”. I stopped him there.
“Hold on, Scavers?” I asked, confused. He gave me another one of his strange looks until, realization flittered across his face. “Oh you must call them something different. There a group of, well I don’t’ know. Civilians with guns I guess, they attacked us and shot him. I was fleeing when I say behind him they were taking his weapons and armor off him.” Oh, Raiders I automatically thought. “You mean Raiders?” He grinned when I said that.
“Game influenced I assume?” I grinned at that and thought back to when dad showed me the old game Fallout 3, I guess that’s were I pulled the term from. “I guess so” I replied.
“So” I Coughed. “What about the, well you know. Infected?” He seemed to look behind himself on instinct when I said it. So he has seen them. “Yea”. He said. “Took five bullets from my Sniper Rifle.” I had to run away eventually, didn’t want to waste anymore bullets. I looked at him after that, my brain making trillions of micro-calculations. “So that was you?” I asked, thinking of my first and so far only encounter with the Zombies. “What?” He asked, clearly confused.
“Well” I started about to go into a long recount of my journey until I heard the snap of a branch. Both of us turned around guns raised.
This is probably one of my favorite entries of all time. I really enjoyed writing the dialogue sequences and I think I really improved in that field. My opinion is probably biased though considering my favorite line "His eyes were laced with curiosity".
That and the fact I wrote this...regardless constructive criticism is always welcome along with the regular assortment of comments.
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