modernknight (modernknight) wrote in the_colony, @ 2010-08-30 17:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | ^ week 19, abigail theien, gregory blair, nathan theien, |* abby/greg/nate |
Week Nineteen - Sunday
Characters: Greg Blair, Nate and Abby Theien
Location: Roughly 150 miles north of Grants Pass
Summary: The regularly scheduled execution of Nate and Abby is interrupted by a knight in not so shining armor.
Rating: E for Epic
The time was no longer measured in chunks of hours, or days or weeks. Abigail had little idea of how long they’d been ‘sheltered’ by these people (that’s what they kept calling it): she measured time with events: first was The Welcoming--a falsely disarming word for being ‘initiated’ (read: brutally gang raped) by no less than three of the group’s willing male members on her and Nathan’s arrival to the Monastery. After that, the Corrections: code for the less than gentle punishment derived on her after each of her steps out of line (thrown punches here, fingers shoulders and ears bitten there: Abby didn’t have a method for fighting back: she just swung and bit at anything that came close). Then the nights in ‘Purgatory’, three stays in a cold, soulless, lightless room in the building’s basement were the Wackjob’s response to her three separate attempts at getting to her brother, and ultimately getting the sam-hell away from that place.
She failed each time before this: having gone god knows how long without seeing Nate before that morning--when she tried to run again. The Reverend decided the two Texans were simply not worth the trouble anymore.
Now, Abby’s arm linked inside the crook of her brother’s--a dusting of morning snow crunched under a pair of well worn Keds--hardly winter footwear, but it wasn’t a concern. Not to the three men walking behind them, out into the skeletons of trees behind the large gothic structure that had been their hell. Her legs bare beneath the wispy material of a knee-length skirt (the women were not allowed such restrictions as jeans or pants), frigid and tingling already from the near-freezing temperatures that the over-sized sweater did nothing to calm.
This was it. She squeezed Nate’s forearm with an odd mix of silent panic and readiness. They would never be going back to the Monastery again--that much was positive. Whether they escaped by road or running--or in a short burst of a few pistols and a shared shallow grave--remained the only uncertainty.
Nathan was not a man who was easily forced into doing anything, especially something that at its core was so unimaginably wrong, something that went against ever fiber of his being. Replenish the earth? The whole premise was made by some sick fuck who took advantage of the world ending to fulfill all of his voyeuristic fantasies, or at least that's how Nate figured it was. At any rate, he refused to participate. He wasn’t going to produce children into a world like this, especially not to be raised like cattle in a society of crazies. Nate fought back with all of his being, spent his time trying to throw kinks in the works, and had several times been punished for it. He had tried to gather his sister and escape. He had picked fights with other so-called men who willingly participated. Each time he had been met with a different punishment. A night in the basement. Beatings. Black eyes. It wasn’t shocking to him when they had pulled him out of bed that morning, however, he remained optimistic, even with the guns pointed at their backs. They had survived this much hadn’t they? His eyes scanned the surrounding area, just a little bit more and they would be completely off of the Monastery grounds which was the first step in getting to freedom.
This was their last chance, if something didn’t happen here, they would be riddled with bullets and there was nothing else to be said about it. He could feel the adrenaline rushing through his body as he tried to come up with something that would give them an opportunity to flee. He needed more time to time to think, he needed a distraction.
“You don’t have to shoot us you know.” He said, his voice seeming louder when filling the quiet space around them. He pulled away from his sister slowly, turning around to face the guards with his hands up in a surrendering posture, still walking backwards in the direction that they were being herded. The three men were looking at him as if he had said something stupid. “Think about it. No blood on your hands, certainly we’ll die out in the cold what with no weapons or food, or water and suitable winter clothes.” He said with a shrug, as if he didn’t really care what happened. He scanned their movements as he spoke, looking for any sign of weakness amongst them, anything he could exploit and use as a bargaining chip.
Abby slowed on instinct, following her brother with that cold blue gaze, wide and sharp because of their current surge of adrenaline and the sheer cold. Almost immediately she wiped the lost look from her face, making it blank. She didn’t know how to pretend like him--but she did let her grip slip from his arm, however reluctant. Without it, her muscles stiffened and felt like they were made of braided wire. She was tense, and it wasn’t the shivering.
“Sorry, Nate. No can do.” The far left guard spat through a self-satisfied sneer and about as much actual apology in his voice as there was warmth in the snow. The other two exchanged a few looks, but ultimately said nothing. The one who spoke shifted his moss green gaze to the smaller of the siblings, who looked over her shoulder. Immediately the freckles on her nose wrinkled: her eyes narrowed. The man only grinned, quite happy the little bitch wouldn’t be able to sink her teeth in his shoulder or hand or cheek anymore.
Nate saw the more than pleased look on the guards face, he saw the way the other man watched his sister and it took all of the control and power left in Nate’s body not to charge at him in that very instant. Instead, Nate shifted his stance just slightly, his body becoming more tense. “Your friends... they seem significantly less enthused. Perhaps you’d like to have a word with them about why you are killing people when your supposed mission is to repopulate the earth. We can wait.” Nate suggested, nonchalantly crossing his arms as he watched the two other men exchange nervous glances, their guns handing loosely in their hands, the barrels pointed towards the snow.
The trigger-happy guard’s answer was a grating scoff, though his two accomplices’ reluctance didn’t miss his gaze. He narrowed it at them and gestured at the two condemned redheads with the barrel of his gun, now addressing them both. “You two sure as hell ain’t doin’ no ‘repopulatin’.” His free hand shot from his side and shoved Nathan onward, twitching his gun in the direction of the ravine ahead. “He’s probably queer...” The guard injected to his less steady companions. “An’ I know this little whore is barren.” The sneer was poison in his voice. Abigail tensed even more, but kept her eyes glued to the path in front of them--scouring her thoughts for some idea on what Nate had up his sleeve.
Nate had heard more than enough of what the guard had to say anger and adrenaline and cold seem to prick away at him and he was running out of time. He had never been one for plans, and there was seldom time he regretted it, now was one of those times. Nate didn’t turn when the man shoved him, and felt a new surge of anger bubble within him as the guard once again mentioned his sister. There was still one thing that was known to bring any man down, and if they were lucky it might stop him from reproducing at all. Nate moved as if her were going to turn but instead his leg shot up swiftly, connecting with the trigger-happy mans crotch. He gave a satisfied smirk as the guard gave a loud howl in pain, doubling over and dropping his gun to the ground. Nate didn’t celebrate though and was quick to pick up the discard weapon, pointing it at the head of the man on the ground. The two guards were obviously taken by surprise at the outright attack, they both lifted their guns.
Before anyone could do anything further, there was a hiss as an arrow whizzed between the siblings and solidly impacted into the throat of one of the guards still standing. The man went down clutching at his neck as he began to drown in his own blood, while the others stared in disbelief at the old-fashioned wood and goose-feather shaft sticking out of their companion’s throat.
The prone man on the ground still doubled over by Nathan’s shot to the balls had found the wherewithal to lurch back when he was suddenly splattered with blood. So too did Abigail, who hadn’t even had time to flinch as the back spray added a few new freckles across her cheeks. In a daze, she shot an arm across the distance between her and her brother, clinging to anything she could grab (which happened to be his shirt).
“Let the woman and her companion pass and I shall spare your miserable lives.” A voice called out from the treeline, as a very strange sight emerged from the woods. The man appeared as something out of a medieval themed movie, clanking slightly as he stepped forward dressed in armor made of hard leather and steel, an open faced helmet with noseguard on his head.
She turned, a wide-eyed half-look over her shoulder at a voice unrecognized... then met Nate’s eyes with equal confusion and alarm. Nate turned at the sound of a voice and stared, still not quite comprehending that an arrow had just come whizzing from behind them. The man who had helped them looked as if he had just waltzed out of a Renaissance Faire, but at least he wasn’t trying to kill them at the moment. As if their day wasn’t weird enough...
His bow was short and curved so that the ends pointed toward the enemy, and an arrow was already notched in preparation to draw and fire once again. The hilt of a longsword could be seen against one hip, with nearly three feet of cold steel resting in its scabbard beneath it. Indeed, the only pieces of modern technology that could be seen on the man were the pistols tucked into his belt.
“This shall be your only warning.”
Hesitation was everywhere: as the armored newcomer chinked forward from the treeline and a man lay dying at their feet, two guards and two prisoners seemed stuck in a small bubble of time. No one moved for a second or two (which felt like an eternity, really), until the shots rang out.
The man Nate kicked had snatched the fallen guard’s firearm and (still slightly hunched) aimed it square at the intruder. “Shoot’im!” he grunted, squeezing the trigger-- a chunk of grass about two feet from the armored man exploded in snow and dirt. The second guard followed suit an instant later: the two red haired siblings caught and ducking in the crossfire.
The shooting was enough to snap Nathan back into reality, and he was honestly tempted just to run. The guards were distracted with the heavily protected man and honestly the guy seemed like he could hold his own with no problem so long as the rest of the camp didn’t wander over to see what was taking so long.
It was only when he glanced at Abby, only to tell her to run, did he realize that Big-and-Ugly was back on his feet. It was in an instant that the guard had lunged and caught Abby by the upper arm, holding the much smaller figure in front of his own, his gun still outstretched towards the metal clad man near the treeline.
Nate was seconds away from panicking. He didn’t have a good enough shot to even attempt to try and shoot the guy behind his sister, but doing nothing wouldn’t help either. Nate lifted the gun again, pointing it at the second guard before squeezing the trigger, watching as it impacted the mans chest, causing the man to fall backwards, his gun discarded.
“Let her go.” He said after a second, to the man holding Abby. It would only be a few minutes before the camp would wonder why there were so many shots being fired for two prisoners.
“I would encourage you to heed the man’s words,” the armored stranger told the remaining guard as he approached. “I guarantee that if the girl comes to harm I will kill you if her companion does not.” The arrow was still notched, but he hadn’t actually drawn the bow as yet. How long it would take was anyone’s guess. He seemed familiar enough with the weapon to kill a man in a difficult shot at distance, how much better would he be at close range?
“You put down the bow, and maybe we won’t kill you.” The remaining guard told the stranger. “This barren little slut isn’t worth anything to me, you kill her trying to get to me and I can kill you.”
“Perhaps.” The armored stranger shrugged. “And perhaps I can get two shots off before you can kill me. The question you have to ask yourself is: Do you feel lucky?”
Abby’s face was hard as stone, flushed by the bite of winter, adrenaline, and flecks of blood. Her gaze flitted between the two men she faced while pressed (sickly) against the chest of a man who’s voice and breath would likely haunt her until her brain rotted with age. If she ever made it that far...
In truth, that mind was sifting through panic and lucidity brought on by stress. She’d always worked extremely well under pressure--just not this level of pressure before. Her heart hammered against her chest, pumping blood through her ears and muting every noise around her except for her captor’s hard, ragged, familiar breathing.
He sneered, though the confidence didn’t reach his eyes. Not entirely... “Right, shooting two fuckin’ arrows in the time it takes--” His words and voice cut off suddenly in a shrill, grunted screech. Behind Abigail, he tensed and started to double: a massive twist of denim and flesh between his legs clamped in his Human Shield's left hand. She squeezed and twisted like her life depended on it (it might very well have), gritting her teeth through the sharp dig of his fingernails into her upper arm. Unfortunately, the pressure resulted in another shot off the man’s gun, wild into the air. It startled her, and she let him go, lurching forward toward Nate with all intentions to just run like Hell.
The minute that Nate saw his sister’s body separate from the other mans he let two bullets fly from the gun, not entirely caring where they hit the vile man, just so long as they hurt, hopefully they would kill him.
And in the distance behind them, there were voices, shouting in alarm, and heading their way. Nate could hear the sounds of people and immediately turned, stopping only to look at the armored man for a moment. “There is a settlement up there, they ain’t going to take to kindly to us killing their men and I think they’ll be able to tell which one was you. I don’t know if you have a car on the other side of these trees or if you came by horse, but it might be better for all of us if we got the hell outta here.” He said, before latching onto Abby’s wrist and running.
“I agree.” The stranger moved to where the man he’d first shot lay dead on the ground, and yanked the arrow out of his throat with a grunt. Once that was done, he turned and made a beeline for the trees, thankful he’d worked hard over the years to exercise in armor and build endurance.
Soon enough he was in the treeline and within sight of the two fugitives. “My horse is just behind this hill, there are two cars in the lot of the building a mile down the road. I’ll make any pursuers think twice about following you, can you make it there?”
There was a brief moment where Nate could not believe that the man was actually going around by horseback. This guy was getting more and more unreal by the second and Nate was roughly thirty percent sure that he was going to wake up back in his cell reeling from a weird dream. He didn’t allow himself to think about it too much however, as he pushed forward.
The look on Nate’s face was clear enough, and the stranger grinned at him. “Horses don’t need gas and can’t get flat tires. I’m not as crazy as I look, trust me.”
“Ain’t got so much of a choice, but I’ll think we’ll make it. Uh...Thanks.” Nate quipped. Abigail had trouble really focusing on the exchange between Sir Galahad and her brother, mainly because her lungs burned in her chest like she’d inhaled lighter fluid. Her legs were numb to the knees and she was no longer shivering--something she would’ve recognized as the onset of hypothermia if her brain wasn’t buzzing, swimming from the dizziness of exertion, stress, adrenaline, and not enough to eat. Most of her strength went into holding onto her lifeline, that being Nathan, though by some miracle she stayed on her feet.
“You’re welcome. If you get clear I have a campsite in a clearing a half mile due east into the woods from the Tugman Park rest area, I’ll be happy to share some food. If I don’t see you there by dawn I’ll assume you preferred to be on your own and I’ll be on my way.” He offered a hand. “Look after the lady, and good luck.”
Nate didn’t have a free hand to extend toward the man, especially not as they moved. One hand held onto his sister’s wrist, he could feel her unsteady movements as they kept going and the other hand held the stolen gun. He nodded at the man, not sure how he felt about the offer. On one hand, the man albeit a little weird seemed incredibly nice, but so had these people at first. He glanced at Abby, his hold on her tightening just a little.
Was this guy for real? The girl’s deep blue eyes took him in from behind escaped red hair, wild from the run. Hints of skepticism brought on by recent trauma resided in that gaze, but it wasn’t intentional... Abby said nothing and looked away, falling into the safe routine of letting her brother lead the way
“Good luck, Stranger.” Nate said. He would talk to Abby about meeting up with him once they were safe, with better clothing and hopefully a way of transportation, maybe even better ways of protecting themselves.
“Heh, got me.” The man smiled wryly and lifted his free hand to his forehead in a wry salute. “It’s Greg, Gregory Blair.” The bow was unstrung and put in the quiver with his arrows, and he put a hand on the hilt of his longsword. In the wooded environment the brown of his armor would blend into the background well enough, and any attackers would be spread out. He should be able to take them hand to hand.
“Now get out of here, things are about to get bloody.”
***
And bloody they had been. Greg had killed three of their pursuers by the sword, three feet of cold steel made short work of unarmored and unwary men not used to hunting prey that could hunt back. Even better was that it could do it quiet, without the ricochet of a bullet that would alert the others to his location.
Eventually he’d made it back to Gustav, and then the long ride back to camp taking care to take a meandering trail to avoid giving clues as to where he was going. By the time he’d changed out of his armor, seen to the horses and stoked the fire, the dimming light in the woods showed that night was falling. If his new friends were going to show up he hoped they’d do it soon.
Hotwiring the car that Greg had directed them too wasn’t a hard task, from the looks of it someone had already started the process and were unable, which left Nate to worry about the state of the cars battery but when he tried the machine roared to life. Still, before they could think about meeting the man they had things to do. Better clothing would be the first one, and maybe acquiring other supplies.
It wasn’t long before the car came across a house. It was a normal sized house that would have looked friendly if not for the over grown yard. Nate hated raiding houses, only because it made him think that someone might be going through the place that he once called home. The house in Texas with the fence and Heidi’s perfumes and Alex’s toys. Still, they plowed through it taking what they needed. Jackets, pants, better shoes, a few things of food and anything else deemed necessary.
When they were satisfied with their haul, they climbed back into the car. The discussion about meeting back up with the man was short. It was a good idea. Nate wouldn’t go as far to say that he was exceptionally trusting of the man, but he was certainly an asset. Besides, if anything, they had a car and could get away quickly, right? Sure, he wasn’t sure exactly how arrow resistant windshields were, but the vehicle could get away from a guy on a horse pretty quickly. After that decision, hours after their escape, they headed towards the general location in which Greg was staying.
After so long, the feel of jeans had never been so heavenly. Heavy, solid material was much preferred to that wisp of a fucking skirt those lunatics forced her and the other women to wear. It didn’t matter that the two pairs they’d found small enough to fit her were specifically cut for a man’s body: they were warm, and so was the fleece hoodie and long sleeve thermal underneath.
In the passenger side of the truck, Abby twisted the handle of the titanium baseball bat she’d found, grinding the metal on the dirty floormat between ‘new’ looted boots. Her eyes were forward, sharp and darting at anything that moved along the road, then off it as Nate maneuvered toward the odd rescuer’s campsite. She’d been completely silent for the whole ride from the abandoned house. Until now.
“There.” She pointed to the crest of a hill, where a thin column of smoke rose toward the darkening purple sky.
He heard them before he saw them. The sounds of two people traipsing through the forest when they didn’t have the woodcraft to be quiet made a fair bit of noise when it was nearly dark and most animals with any sense had snuggled into their burrows or nests for the night.
Greg was pretty sure the noise was just the two strays he’d saved earlier in the day, but it never hurt to be cautious in these times. His bow wouldn’t be of much use in this forest, but the pistols he had would work just fine even if he didn’t like them much. Before they broke through the woods into the clearing he was up away from the fire to let his eyes adjust and stay off in the shadows until he was certain they were alone.
There would be no armor to give away his location this time, just jeans, sweatshirt, boots and duster.
Nate didn’t like walking though the woods, He especially didn’t like coming through on the other side and not being able to see their “friend”. His things were still there, so if he had left he hadn’t been gone long but the place being deserted made him nervous. What if there was an ambush. He looked behind him towards Abby with a frown, gesturing for her to stay put as he moved towards the fire.
“Greg, buddy, you still here?”
Abby had the thick canvass duffle stuffed with extra looted clothes and items lugged at her hip: the strap cut across her torso from one shoulder to her waist, and looked about as heavy as she was. At her side, the metal bat angled down as they walked. It was difficult to see past the blinder-sides of the sweatshirt’s hood, which hung well over her face and muted it in shadow. The fingertips of her free hand pushed the hood back, then rearranged the low ponytail of copper waves: they fanned on her shoulder as the girl swivelled looks to the woods that surrounded them. She was nervous, and gripped the bat’s rubber wrap a bit tighter.
Greg appeared in the light of the fire a few seconds after Nate called out, satisfied that the two were alone. “Glad to see you made it.” He raised a hand in greeting, as well as to show both were empty. The pistol tucked in his belt was a sign he hadn’t entirely forsworn modern weapons.
“Apologies for the dramatic entrance, but you never know who might be crashing through the woods at dusk.”
Nate relaxed a little when Greg alone stepped out of the shadows, though he still looked around a bit. He shrugged his shoulders at the man as he placed the bag he had been shouldering down by his feet.
“I suppose it’s no more dramatic than the entrance you made earlier, what with the medieval armor and the arrow through the guys face. Thanks for that, by the way.” Nate smiled.
And thanks for that reminder... Abby all about glared at her brother, but it was a reaction brought on by stress. It didn’t last long: the young woman’s face softened considerably, then turned to the other man, now lacking his dark-age costume and looked more like the picture on the Marlboro ads. Her lips pressed a little: something between a nod and a smile that showed she agreed with Nate’s thank-you, but she didn’t say anything.
“It isn’t Kevlar body armor but it does a good job of stopping everything but bullets.” Greg shrugged, slightly self conscious about the armor. “I’ve usually armored up whenever I knew I was going into hostile territory, though I have the bow with me all the time. The sword and the bow may not be as fast as a bullet, but they’re much quieter.”
He gestured toward the fire. “Come on in and warm up. I’ve stew in the cookpot.” He paused, and shook his head. “You know, I don’t think I ever got your names.”
“Its gotta be a bitch to move in though.” Nate commented, “Oh! I’m Nathan. That’s my sister Abby.” He hitched his thumb towards his younger sister as he took a step forward and examined the fire and the food.
“Pleasure to meet you both,” Greg smiled and broke out some old army surplus mess kits he’d raided from a sporting goods store and handed them to the siblings. This was the first time he’d sat down to eat with other people in the field since before the plague, since then it had just been the occasional stopover at a friendly settlement, which were few and far between.
Abigail tipped her head a little--her brows pushed up over the tight-lipped smile she pushed when her sibling introduced her. She didn’t move as fast as Nate, not because she was incapable, she was just a little more outwardly cautious about... well, everything.
Stew did sound good, though. Until that moment, she was vaguely unaware of the twisting gnaw at her gut. She settled herself down not far from the fire, watching as Nate hovered close to the flames, then turned another look up to their host. Abby offered him a more genuine smile, one that was almost apologetic, and spoke for the first time.
“Smells good...”
“I’ve never claimed to be as good as my parents chef, but my stews are edible.” Greg smiled over at her before taking the ladle and dunking it into the pot to fill his own tray. “I’ve had to learn to do it myself or starve this year, and trying to avoid that fate is good motivation.”
“I can’t say I’m much of a cook, but I like to think I’m getting better at it. Its a hell of a lot harder than before since I can’t relay on the microwave and whatnot.” Nate said as he watched Greg spoon the food onto the tray. He waited for Greg to finish before moving to put some on the tray he had before offering the full on to his sister in exchange for the empty one.
Abby smiled softly at her brother, the silent thank you a given. The savory steam licked at her face as she hovered it over her lap, closing her eyes for a moment of almost debilitating deference. The medical catalogue in her brain understood that after a near starvation-diet, she’d likely lose the meal before too long if she ate it too fast. Like the emaciated animals that came into the clinic after a rescue, she had to force herself to take her time. Small bites... slow and far between. The control was actually shaking the redhead’s hands... or maybe that was the cold.
Greg waited for the siblings to start eating, letting them get some sustenance in them before he started with questions. The chevalier watched them a bit anxiously, while his stews were edible he’d never made any claims to taste and he couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive as to what they’d say about it. Given their accents they were a long way from home, but then again so was he. He’d made his home in Vancouver the past several years, but his heart had always been in SoCal.
“So what brought two Texans all the way up into this neck of the woods?” He finally asked. Eventually he’d get around to what thoughts they had as to where to go next, but for now it was probably best to play ‘lets get to know each other better’.
Nate wasn’t sure how to feel about the silence, silence had been one thing that had always made him uncomfortable, but lately it was just something he had grown accustomed to. He smiled at the man who asked the question giving him a short shrug of his shoulders.
“We evacuated Texas with our family, eventually, we just set off on our own.” He said, not mentioning what happened to the rest of their family, that didn’t needed to be said. Nate thought about it though, for the briefest of seconds before forcing himself onto a different topic, “What about you, you from around here?”
“Not originally.” Greg said in between bites of stew. “I grew up down in SoCal, Southern California that is. I moved up to Vancouver after college though. I was an instructor at a place called ‘Academie Duello’, basically a school where people learned how to do the stuff I did earlier, though none of us ever imagined we would put it into practice for real.” A short shrug was given in echo of Nate’s earlier gesture. “I’d been interested in martial arts since I was in grade school, and the sword since my teens. Unlike ninety nine percent of other kids I was in a position to do something about it and never ‘grew out of it’.”
Abby was listening quietly, picking bites carefully as the two men exchanged causalities. She didn’t interrupt, mainly because Nate was more than willing to pipe up and she was fine with that. Consider it a fuzzy form of shock: the woman was still numb to what had happened, or almost happened earlier that day.
Her interest was perked a little, though. Greg explained the odd knowledge of dark-age weaponry and fighting, and it made sense. She guessed, anyway.
“Lucky life-choice.” She said finally with a mix of humor and seriousness. Lucky for him. Lucky for us, she thought over another bite--blue eyes made golden by the fire light, set on their host.
Greg turned his attention toward the quieter of the siblings as she spoke for the first time in his hearing. The accent was similar to her brother’s, but a bit softer perhaps, and the voice certainly more pleasant to listen to! He couldn’t help but notice the way the fire lit up her eyes and turned her hair a brilliant orange, and had they met under different circumstances back in the world before he might have asked for her number.
Given the circumstances he had found Abby and her brother in, acting on any such impulse was unthinkable. The chevalier put the thought out of his mind and concentrated on less dangerous concepts.
“My parents certainly despaired at my life choices,” he told her with a rueful smile and a shrug. Thinking of the past was less painful than it had been six months earlier. It had barely been a year but it felt almost as if the time before the plague happened in a different life. “I was something of a black sheep, what with choosing to spend my career learning and teaching skills that hadn’t been ‘useful’ in centuries and following a girl up to Vancouver as soon as I graduated UCLA. They gave up on me years ago.”
Another small shrug, and he moved a hand to scratch at lthe back of his neck. “But now? All those ‘useless’ skills have kept me alive and allowed me to help others, so it would seem you’re correct.”
Abby nodded in quiet agreement with him, or his explanation. She wasn’t exactly sure which, but he was certainly infinitely better company than those she and Nate had become used to. The thought thinned her lips a little, and she looked down at the baseball bat she hadn’t let leave her reach since finding it.
The sudden desire to bash the thing into the head of a number of faces that would haunt her memories until she croaked rose from the pit of her stomach--and with it, a little bit of the stew. Abby’s eyes closed as she forced it down with a swallow--then set the meal close to her brother with a look his way, silently conveying that she was done... he could have the rest.
She stood up, taking the bat with her, angled down and fairly tense at her thigh. A small ‘excuse me for a sec’ announced her leaving.. footsteps lightly tromped toward the woodline and just out of reach of the firelight... where she quietly threw up.
Nate watched the exchange between his sister and the near stranger carefully as he ate his food. He only nodded when Greg spoke, his attention being grabbed by his sister when she slid her food over towards him. He chewed on his lip as she stood and the retching noise could be heard from the short distance to the tree line. He stood, and only took a few steps toward the treeline.
“Everything okay, Abs?” He called to her gently. Yeah, he knew nothing was okay, especially not with what they had been through, but he had to ask.
“Fine...” The reply from the woods came weakly, but genuine, and followed by the sound of someone spitting rather emphatically. Abby drew the back of her sleeve across her mouth, then spit again.. hunched over and braced on her knees. She wanted to think it was just the food. She really wanted to. “...just, not used to it.”
Greg watched the two siblings with a furrowed brow. He wasn’t sure what action to take just then, but instinct told him to stay out of what was obviously a matter for brother and sister to deal with on their own. They’d only just met, after all.
Hopefully it wasn’t a response to the quality of his stew.
Abby stepped out of the woods with her eyes half locked on the fire, half on the ground to make sure she didn’t trip. With her free hand, she waved off Nathan’s obvious concern. Honestly. She was fine. Emaciated, traumatized, emotionally numb and half-frozen, but fine. They made it out of Hell, now she just had to adjust to being normal--or at least, what ‘normal’ this world had left to provide.
“Sorry ‘bout that...” She uttered toward Greg as she took her place by the fire again, genuinely apologizing for what couldn’t have been a pretty noise. Her eyes looked a little glazed, and she leaned an elbow on her knee, supporting her cheek and chin with downcurled fingertips. Tired looking. Simply worn down.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had meat... I’ve always had a picky stomach.”
Nathan just nodded. He had his own thoughts on the matter, worries and concerns was more like it, especially given the place they had just left. He wasn’t going to say anything though, instead just watched her with a tight-lipped concerned look on his face.
“Maybe you should lay down?” He suggested simply as he picked at his remaining bit of food.
Abby was still and quiet for a second, gazing into the fire without really seeing it. She could feel his look on the side of her face, but couldn’t meet it. Not right away.
“Yeah, prolly...” She finally uttered, quiet as a whisper, even though she didn’t intend it. The young woman didn’t say anything after that: just looked at her brother and pushed on her knees to rise, heading to the small area just beyond the fire where their newly looted supplies, away from the two men.
Greg watched her retreat back to the sleeping area with a small frown. He hoped she was just ill from new food and the events of the day, they really couldn’t deal with an illness out on the road.
Turning toward her brother, he felt it was time to get down to business. If Abby disagreed later they’d deal with it then. “Have you given much thought to where you’ll go after this? The two of you are welcome to travel with me, but that will require some adjustment.”
Nate thought about it for a moment. What they hell were they going to do? Nate had never been one for planning, never one for thinking so far ahead, it was one of the reasons they had wound up in the predicament they had been in earlier. He sighed and rolled his shoulders.
“I aint much thought about it.” He said bluntly, “I gotta say, you’re definitely an asset to our survival. What kinda adjustments are we talking about? The last group we were in came with adjustments too and we didn’t much agree with those.”
“Nothing like that,” Greg hastily assured him, distaste clear in his expression. “What the two of you do or don’t do with your bodies is none of my concern. I was thinking more along the lines of transportation. I learned how to ride almost as soon as I learned how to walk, so travelling on horseback wasn’t a problem for me. But it’s winter time and we ought to be thinking about getting far away from your previous hosts, and quickly. I won’t abandon Gustav and Ginger, which means we need to find a horse trailer and something to pull it with.”
Nate nodded a bit, “I have no idea where to find that stuff, but it shouldn’t be that hard, right?” Nate didn’t expect an answer, it was a rhetorical question. “We have a Truck on the other side of the woods that we managed to get up an running to get here, it might be able to pull something small. If we can find a farm or a stable or something like that around, it shouldn’t be too hard to get the stuff we’d need. How long you been around here? Know where we could find something like that?”
“I haven’t been in this particular area long, a week or so really. Most of it was spent observing your last residence to see if there was anything I could do to help those who weren’t there of their own free will.” Which sadly, there hadn’t been until they’d brought Nate and Abby out for execution. At least then he could do something. “We can start looking around tomorrow for something, as well as raid for supplies. Three people eat much more than one, obviously.”
He fixed the other man with a level stare. “I don’t have a problem with talking things out and making group decisions when we’re in camp, but out on the road if I tell you to do something it’ll be for a reason. I swear on my honor and the memory of my daughter that I have no ill intent toward you or your sister, and if at some point the two of you want to go your separate ways I won’t try to stop you.”
“Tomorrow is good. Abby and I hit up a house or two not too far from here that still had some useful things in them, it wouldn’t hurt to head back to that little neighborhood.” Nate nodded thoughtfully, the other man obviously had more experience in defending himself than either of the siblings had but as a rule, Nate didn’t like being bossed around. Still, there was little option.
“Deal,” He said slowly, “I’m not going to question you, but I’m not going to rush into danger needlessly, I like living. You have any idea where you want to be heading after this?”
“That makes two of us. You don’t have my sort of training so I wouldn’t expect you to go charging into suicidal situations like I did this morning.” Greg’s smile was a bit lopsided. “I’ll be happy to teach you what I know, both in terms of martial arts and the sword, if you want.”
He stroked his jaw thoughtfully for a moment at the man’s last question, pondering it for a few moments. “Probably best to follow the interstate south.” He said at last. “I haven’t been down that way since before the plague, so I can’t say what’s down there, but if we try to go north we risk running into your old friends. I doubt they’d be very happy to see us.”
“May come as a shock, but I don’t think they liked us very much.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips. “Though they probably hate you a lot more.”
He sat a little straighter after a second, “But south sounds good. Aint nothing left here. And learning what you know wouldn’t be a bad idea either, since you’re offering and all.”
“Good, we’ll get started in the morning.” Greg nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to finish the meal and turn in for the night. The fire’s small enough that it won’t be visible from the road in the dark, so we should be safe enough.”
Nate nodded again, “Alright.” He said, finishing up the last bits of stew before standing. “We’ll get started first thing in the morning.”