Tristan:
"Fuck you," I say after the same rebel that saved me from Rex pushes me into a small, black room. The rusty metal door closing and locking behind me, I look around for a little bit.
"This is an empty room," I say, seeing only four stone walls and a small ass chair under a hanging light. Shaking my head, I turn around and start banging my fists against the door.
"Hey," I scream, "Hey! What the hell am I doing here! Why am I even here! Let me out! Let me out now!"
Switching from banging with my fists to kicking, I stomp my whole foot against the door.
"Let me out," I yell over and over. "Let me out of here now!"
Stomping on it for what felt like the hundredth time, it opens suddenly, and before I can do anything, someone hit me with something. Screaming and falling back, I look up to see a tall man with dirty-yellow hair and a yellow and red jacket on. Beside him are two others rebels, all three of them armed with an assault rifles.
"Hello, Tristan," the guy with yellow hair starts. "We need to talk with you about something."
"Me first," I say, getting up and wiping the bit of sweat from my eyes. "How about you tell me where I am, why I'm here, and where the fuck Rebecca is?"
"Don't worry about Rebecca," the guy answers, "She's fine. My men found her before they find you, and quickly took her to our infirmary. She's alive. As for your other questions, my name is Martin, and I am the leader of the Rebel."
"Leader of the Rebels," I repeat to myself, thinking back to everything I heard about the Rebels and their "fearless" leader.
"You know," I say, grabbing at my own shirt collar. "For someone who's in hiding, you sure have a lousy sense of fashion. I can see that damn blazer of yours for miles, and so can any soldiers in the base. Miracle how they haven't already found and kill you yet."
"Yeah, well, the soldiers can look all their want because, in a few days, we'll all be gone from this base."
"Base," I repeat, Martin hearing this and stepping aside. The lights piercing through the doorway blinding me at first, my eyes quickly adjust, and I can see a bunch of people; men, women, children, and even a few dogs, all running around.
"Come with me," Martin orders, his guards grabbing and pushing me to my feet. The four of us all walking together, I look past the guards to the people.
"This is the Rebels' base," I say to myself. "Son of a bitch."
Instead of some sort of heavily militarized headquarter, it's all nothing more than a bunch of tents put together with sticks and scrap of clothes. Inside the tents are mostly just pistols and pipes tied to the tent's wall. Most of the rebels running around don't even have armor. Just regular clothing. No better than what I have on my back right now.
"Your stuff is crap," I say, eyeing a little kid as he hands over a shovel to a taller man with a stain-covered hoodie. "I expected the Rebels to have better gears. You know, considering your whole 'Get rid of the damn chimeras things and take back Earth' thing. You're going to need more than peashooters to take down their spaceship."
"Oh, believe me. We have more. We just have it packed away at the current moment."
Looking back at the kid and the taller man, I see the man put the shovel into a crate, the kid now handing him a baseball bat and the man doing the same. Now that Martin mentioned it, there are a bunch of crates in the Rebels' base, the crates reminding all too much of Rex and Rebecca.
"Where is Rebecca," I ask, grabbing Martin's shoulder and a guard hitting me in the back of the head as soon as I do. Stumbling forward and screaming, I pick myself back up.
"She's in here," Martin says, stopping at a small shack with another rusted door. Pushing it open, I see Rebecca sitting up on top of what looks like a fucking operation table.
"Drifter," she yells, smiling and waving at me. "What's up?"
"Nothing much," I answer, still holding my head and looking back at the guards. "Just going on another walk apparently."
"Doctor Morty," Martin says, a doctor appearing right beside Rebecca. Dressed in a doctor uniform, full mask included, I see blood on his gloves. "How's the patient?"
"She's fine," Dr. Morty answers, taking the gloves off and tossing them aside. "Luckily, she wasn't too badly shot. Just grazed. I had to remove a few pellets, but overall, she's fine."
"Excellent job Doctor," Martin says, patting the doc on his shoulder. "As usually. Now that this is done with, I need you to go back to packing. We leave in less than three days."
Nodding his head, he turns around and walk away.
"Come on you two. We have business to discuss."
Eyeing an each other, we nods our head and follow after Martin. Leading us further through the base, we start to see things like a bunch of trucks and cars, their engines turned on, people moving crates after crates onto them, some tying the crates with ropes onto the roof.
Stopping in front of another shack, he turns back to his guards.
"I'll be okay now. Go and help the others."
"Yes sir," his guards replies, turning and running.
Opening and holding the door open, he nudges his head inside.
"Your packs and guns are inside, in case you're wondering. Along with a few other supplies."
Running inside now, I see all my things; my pistols, my backpack, my supplies, all sitting on a table. Running and grabbing it, I quickly check to make sure I still have everything.
"Check," I say, counting the bullets I have in the clip. "Check. Check."
Rebecca slowly following behind me, checks on her stuffs laying next to mine.
"Now that that's out of the way," Martin says after I put my backpack on, "It's time to talk trade. I heard about your missing medicine. The one Rex stole from you."
Stopping everything she's doing, Rebecca turns to Martin.
"Yeah," she says. "What's it to you?"
"I just so happen that I brought them from Rex only hours before you two show up at his warehouse."
"You brought them? Well guess what, I want them back. That son of a bitch stole them from me and I wasn't planning on selling the whole thing."
"I traded quite a lot for these medicine. I'm afraid if you want them back, you'll have to trade me something I really want."
"And what is that exactly," I ask, reaching for one of my guns.
"I want to hire both of you to escort someone out of here and all the way to New Haven, Connecticut."
"Connecticut," I yell, turning around. "What, are you fucking insane? That's a whole other state!"
"I know," Martin yells back, "Which is why I sent some of my soldiers to find you. I know you're a drifter. You drifted from bunkers to bunkers, meaning you are better skilled than anyone else in here to survive out there! Listen, the payment is---"
"Oh no! No! No! No! The last time I got drag into a job with a shiny 'payment', I ended up in a small ass room with the leader of the fucking rebels! Aka, public enemy number 1!"
"That's why I need to hire you two. As public enemy number 1, if any military soldiers see me or my Rebels, they're start firing. No hesitance whatsoever. And there's someone I rather not be under constant fire."
"Who? Your son? Your daughter?"
"Step-daughter actually. Bailey, please come in here now."
A second door I didn't notice before opening, a kid, barely looking older than 14, steps on through. Dressed in a blue, short sleeves T-shirt with a black, long-sleeves shirt underneath, and jeans, she move her long brown hairs out of the way.
"This is Bailey," Martin says, walking over to her and putting his hands on her shoulder. "She's the one you're going to escort out of Boston and to Connecticut."
Tristan: "You have to be fucking kidding me," I say, staring at the little kid. "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you? You want us to escort some little brat to the next state over? No! Fuck that." "Hey screw you," the kid yells. "And by the way, I don't want to go with either of you two. I'm staying here with Martin." "Bailey," Martin says, turning and getting on a knee. "We talked about this. You need to go with these two. Being with me, with any Rebels, is too dangerous nowadays. The military is hunting us down. We lost two bases in the last months and far too many friends and families. That is why I have hired these two. They are the best at surviving on the outside." Bailey: I look at the two, the two "best at surviving on the outside".
Tristan: The outside is the same as I remember it. The sky is dark-red, with massive black clouds. Hiding behind the clouds is the sun, though it's hardly much more than just a pale yellow circle. Looking around, I see nothing more than miles and miles of a barren wasteland, litter with signs of what the planet used to be like. There are rusted cars everywhere, anything even remotely useful taken long ago. Fallen logs and twigs cover most of the bare dirt. The roads themselves can hardly be called roads anymore such most of them are gone, leaving giant gaps. "This is the outside," the package asks, shielding her eyes as she looks at the sky. "Where's the sun?" "It's behind the clouds of poison," I say, pulling Rebecca up and out before putting the sewer cover back.
Tristan Fenway Park is a massive stadium, a combination of old-fashioned brick walls with rusted, green beams. As Rebecca, the package, and I make our way toward the entrance, I can't help but notice all the abandoned military vehicles and knocked-over fences everywhere. "You said this was a shelter before," the package asks, examining a run-down, rusted military truck. The wheels are flat and decay, the windows are all broken and shattered, and the tarp that covered the back is ripped and torn. "Yeah," Rebecca replies. "The first few years when the chimera invasion started, the military told us to gather here. We grabbed whatever we could and carried it here." Stepping over a metal fence, we reach the entrance and walk past some booths. Careful not to make too much noise as we walk through a maze of long, dark, empty hallways, Rebecca and my lighter being our only guide, we eventually reach the seating area, and beyond that, the fiel
Tristan: "Come on," I cry, shaking my gun all over and firing. "Come on. Come on!" Shooting another bullet, this bullet hit the infected woman in the back, stunning her and giving me the opportunity I need. Pushing the infected off of me, I shoot it in the head, killing it, before facing the hoard. "Damn it!" I slam my free hand on the bottom of my pistol and start firing every bullet I have left in this pistol into the hoard. Killing a bunch of the infected and hurting a few more, I stop when I start to hear clicking sounds instead of gunfire. "Empty." Despite all the infected I killed, there are still too many to fight head-on. Tossing my gun and hitting an infected right in the head, I then turn around and start to run again. Running through the maze of tents, picking whichever direction I think is best, I finally reach what looks like the spot where I split from Rebecca and Bailey. "Home base," I tell mysel
Tristan:"Shit," I say when I hear another infected. Making out some cover in the darkness, I grab Rebecca and Bailey and pull the two toward it. The covering, apparently some trashcans, I throw the two behind it before joining them on the floor."Shh," I whisper, pointing at the dark as the infected snarl again. Thankfully, it's only one infected. Through the darkness, I can see it come close to us. Running for a bit before stopping, it drops to its knee and starts hitting the floor. Pounding the floor over and over with its fists, a rat comes out from a hole in the wall. It scurries across the floor for a bit before the infected reaches out and grabs it.Biting down and ripping out a chunk of meat, it starts to eat."Stay here," I whisper, carefully getting up. Getting up to my knees, I stay low and peek over the trashcan. The infected is facing us, but it's looking down, completely focus on the rat in its hand. Checking to make sure it
Tristan: Literally seeing a light at the end of a dark tunnel, I look behind one last time to make sure there aren't any infected to ruin the moments. The three of us emerging from the dark hallway enter what I'm guessing was the parking lot for when the military was here. There are a bunch of military vehicles, mostly jeeps and hummers, around us. What tires aren't missing are either slash or are just out of air, and all the vehicles have their hoods up, meaning the military must have stripped them of their parts before moving to the bunkers. "Holy hell," Bailey says, panting through her masks as we walk away from the dark hallway. "That was intense." "You think," I ask, resting my hands on my knees as I look around. It's pitch-black now. The sun is gone and the moon and stars are covering the night sky above. Despite how quiet everything sounds, how there isn't even the sound of the wind, I know better. "Come on," I say, str
Bailey: Yawning as I stretch my limbs, I hear my bones crack while realigning themselves. Tilting my head and cracking my neck, I turn back to Tristan as he shuts the doors to the hummer. Loading the empty tin cans into his backpack, he tosses it onto his back and looks at Rebecca and me. "Are you two ready," he asks. "For a day of non-stop walking," I say, "Oh yeah." Hearing a sigh through Tristan's mask and seeing him shake his lower head, he nudges it a few seconds later and starts to walk. Rebecca and I follow after him, he guides us out of the parking lot and onto the deserted Boston streets. "Rebecca," Tristan says, turning back to her. "Listen, I know how to survive on the outside, but this is your city. You know it better than I do. If there are any places we passed that might have anything valuable, I want you to tell me. Okay?" "Got it," Rebecca replies, shooting Tristan a quick wave. "There might sti
Tristan: I pull out one of my pistols and aim it at the infected incoming. My finger on the trigger, I'm about to fire but stop. Rebecca is in the way, she's blocking my shot. "Damnit," I cry, running to the right. Now at a better angle, I aim at the infected once more. Closing one eye, I aim at the first infected's leg and fire. The bullet piercing a hole in the infected's leg, it leans over and drops off the sliver, plunging into the water below. Two more infected reach the sliver and I do the exact same. Shooting bullets through their legs, they groan as they drop into the water. "Hurry up," I yell, shooting a third infected. "This is only going to draw more attention." "I'm hurrying," Rebecca yells back. Rebecca: Sliding across the tiny sliver of leftover road, I eye the infected as they try to reach Bailey. Still sitting down, her face hidden behind her legs, I say fuck it to sliding and start running. Extending my arms so they're all the way out, I start running in a str