Closing Statement

It's a long way north.

Closing Statement

It was in times of mayhem, that the prosperous grew. Ready to take advantage of tragic occurrences, shopkeepers sold anything they carried. Even citizens took to the streets selling everything from the little amounts of bitter food they carried, to the shredded clothes on their hunched backs. Personal convoys however, ranked the highest in the economic manipulation game. Traveling the roads wasn’t easy; it was a deadly task that almost always concluded in kidnappings, murders, or disappearances. The personal convoy’s jobs was to escort people safely from A to B, protecting the weak from their greatest nightmares. The biggest fear that stirred up the people of south Ignis, and provided the most money for personal convoys, were the Hell Sweepers.

The Hell Sweepers went by many names:  People Eaters, Clawed Demons, Glowe, Pater Minions, etc. The Hell Sweepers were a gang of fiends who fed off of terror. They dwelled in the shadows and the grime watching prey pass by before striking their  attack. The monsters never had a set tactic to their kills. More often than not however, they would have two or three members cover their brothers with gunfire while the others ripped the helpless souls to shreds with their razor-sharp claws made from ravens’ bones. What they did next, nobody knows. Very few have survived their merciless attacks. People can only tell the stories of their murders by the clues they leave behind. They never take any money. This means they don’t commit these acts out of greed. They also only sometimes eat their victims. Showing that they don’t solely do it out of hunger. But when people disappear entirely, that’s a different story. One will be able to tell when someone has vanished due to a Hell Sweeper attack when elongated claw marks are dug through the ground or when the rest of their party is found with their insides facing out. Once one is taken, they’ll never be heard from again. Some say they are brought to a “human farm”, where they are forced to breed for the Hell Sweepers only to be eaten when their time came. Wherever they went, it couldn’t of been good.

The beasts held a certain visual that struck fear into the hearts of everyone. It was impossible to know what they really look like, but the survivors recall them as living nightmares suited with dusty gas masks, rugged spiked clothing that covered every inch of their bodies, necklaces and jewelry made from human flesh, and glowing eyes that melted holes through the souls of any mortal unlucky enough to lay their looks upon them. Some called them demons, hellish creatures brought up from the deepest layers of hell to torment the mortals for eternity as punishment for killing the world. Some believed their leader was Satan himself, playing the role of God in a world where there was none.

Wade bounced his eyes between various groups of personal convoys, silently judging each one. His mind flew to a group of about 5 that was receiving no company in their own corner. The group consisted of 4 rusty men and a scrawny woman who carried a stare that silently admitted to committing acts of manslaughter. Wade shuffled over to the convoy and all the troops instantly fluttered flawed smiles against their polluted faces.

“Hello there! I’m Samson, but you can call me sam... Or sammy... Whichever one you prefer really.” The supposed leader greeted warmly, extending a bandaged hand out to wade. Wade grasped his hand softly, careful not to cause the fragile man harm.

“I’m Wade.” Wade informed.

“Well then, it’s a pleasure to meet you Wade!” The giddy man cheered. “We are the ‘Revenant Comrades’, We will take you anywhere you please, as long as we don’t enter the ‘War Zone’ or have to deal with any political conflicts that is. This is Grob.” Sam pointed to a one-eyed elder resting on the cracked ground, Grob Lifted his silver magnum, as if showing it off to a one man crowd. “That’s Varia over there.” He directed wade to the scrawny woman who shines a kind half smile at Wade. “The man over there is Hugh.” He led Wade’s eyes to yet another oldie who stood upon a makeshift wooden leg.

“Bell to meet ya Wade.” Hugh spoke in a raspy voice, giving Wade a firm handshake in the process. Sam ended his mini tour with Wolfgang, who carried a bulky serrated machete in intimidating fashion.

“So, where are you heading today?” Sam asked, delighted.

“I’m heading to Orisis, do you know how to get there?” Wade answered.

“Well surething!” said sam, “We can take ya anywhere!”

“I might need you to escort me some more after Orisis, are you up for that?” Wade informed.

“Hell, if you have the payment, we’ll take you straight into the Hell Sweepers home for god sake!” Sam let out a small chuckle to himself, “Just to clear things up, we are not taking you into the Hell Sweepers home for any amount of money.

“So What’s the price?”

“50 pecus.” Grob answered before Sam had a chance to speak.

“Slow down there, Grob.” Sam snapped at the elder who was now eyeing Wade. “It’ll be 30 pecus, starting price that is. If we go somewhere else after Orisis then it’ll cost ya extra.”

“Fair enough.” Wade agreed as he handed Sam crumpled up pecus from his coat pocket. Sam counted the gray paper before stuffing them into his own pocket.

“So… Ya ready to head on?” Sam proposed.

“Luit.” Wade concluded as they moved through the ever-growing crowd, and onto a nearly empty road.

“Say, not many folks are takin’ the paths to Orisis. Why you headen’ over there anyways?” Grob asked inquisitively.

“Grob, shut your trap. We don’t ask questions, remember?” Varia directed.

“Well, I’ve wants to know.” Grob continued.

“You don’t have to answer him Wade, he’s always getting into our client's businesses.” Sam attempted to close the argument.

“No I don’t, I’m just curious, that's all.” Grob defended himself.

“I’m  a scout.” Wade relieved Grob’s curiosity.

“Who you scoutin’ for?” Wolfgang calmly indulged.

“Not going to get into it.” Wade declined. “I don’t want to cause any political drama between us.”

“What ya mean?” Grob asked again.

“Grob, he doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s his own business.” Sam put him out again.

“I wants to know though.” Grob begged.

“Ya ol’ geezer. Stop asking the questions man. Wade’s not gonna talk.” Hugh shut Grob down even more so.

“Did you just call him an ol’ geezer?” Wolfgang began. “Looks who’s talking.” Everyone let you a quiet giggle, except for Wade.

“Why are you called the ‘Revenant Comrades?’” Wade requested.

“We couldn’t think of a name, but Sam discovered the word revenant and decided it sounded cool.” Wolfgang replied.

“No, it was because we were sure that Hugh was going to die of ferslux. Damn guy kept on walkin’, on a wooden leg that is.” Sam challenged. Wolfgang smiled some.

“Watch what you say. I remember you running up to me, showing’ me a page from some burnt out book, shouting about how you wanted to use the word revenant in our convoy’s name ‘cause it sounded intimidating.” Wolfgang spoke through a wide smile.

“Damn kid remembers everything. It’s all because of that journal he carries around I tell ya, he’ll never let us down on anything.” Sam remarked.

“Hugh had ferslux?” Wade examined.

“No his leg just decided that one day it wanted to fall off.” Sam joked sarcastically. “I was just kidding, Hugh had ferslux of course. I thought it only infected the weak and the poor. I mean, we aren't particularly rich fellows ourselves but we get along all right. Everyone I knew who got ferslux was either weak or unimportant, seemed like some kind of cruel God created the disease to filter out the unworthy. Then, Hugh got it. First, it was just a cough, we thought it was a simple cureie, we thought it would pass by in a day or two. Then it got worse. He started choking on his own blood and not long after, he was spitting up this thick black vile-type s**t. That’s when we knew. We saw his leg, it was bad I tell ya. Moles, bloody bumps, and the black s**t oozing out of every pore in his wrinkled old leg. We knew what had to be done. Wolfgang took his machete and… I assume you can figure the rest on your own.”

“They did what they had to. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t be alive right now.” Hugh added.

“My mother died of ferslux.” Varia commented, ending an awkward beat.

“Varia, not now.” Sam attempted to stop the incoming story.

“Why not?” She questioned.

“We’ve heard it a thousand times Varia, on top of that we have a client with us.” Wolfgang chimed in.

“That’s why Imma tell it, our guest hasn’t heard it yet.” Varia pursued.

“Wade, trust me on this one, you don’t wanna hear about it.” Wolfgang advised.

“No, go ahead Varia” Wade allowed.

“You did this to yourself.” Wolfgang warned under his breath.

“When I was a young’un, that b***h tried to eat my brother. She was a total s**t I tell ya, made me into what I am today.” She explained.

“And what’s that?” Wade asked.

“A murderer.” Varia answered.

“Varia, please.” Grob desperately said.

“I swear she had fucked every man in New Spire. That was when the town was still around, of course. After my w***e mother plagued the town, it wasn’t a surprise when they committed mass suicide.”

“Jesus f*****g christ Varia.” Sam chastised.

“She got ferslux on the day my daddy was supposed to turn 25, I let her die. I watched her die.” Varia finished.

A prolonged, uncomfortable silence grew in the group.

“I’m sorry you had to bear through that Wade.” Sam apologized.

“No it’s fine.” Wade accepted.

“What were you doin’ in Greyhab when the U.R.I struck?” Wolfgang asked in interest.

“ I was actually looking to get food.” Wade said.

“You were in ground zero then?” Wolfgang asked, this time intrigued.

“Yeah, wasn’t pretty I tell ya. I was almost shot down by U.R.I soldiers.” Wade indulged. Wolfgang pulled out a sleek leather journal and began writing on its dusty pages with a coarse pencil.

“And what stopped ya from dyin’?” Wolfgang interviewed.

“Luck, I guess.” Wade spoke, pondering into the slowly clearing sky.

“Lucky b*****d I tell ya.” Hugh began. “We heard them shots and thought for sure everyone was gonna be dead.”

“Yeah, real lucky.” Grob added.

“So did you get your food?” Varia spoke, tripping over a rock in the process.

“No.” Wade said.

“We have some food if ya want it, won't cost you a pecu extra.” Wolfgang offered, putting away his journal.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Wade gladly accepted.

“We’ll get you some grub when we rest.” Sam finalized as the world grew darker.

The sky, although not clear of the constant smoke, it was clear enough to peer through holes in the thickness and into the shimmering stars above. The No Man’s Land was now a faint whisper on the horizon, no longer did it gloom over the air. The group had settled into a small clearing nestled into the constant flood of metallic debris. They lay upon thin blankets of cotton and ate “Grey Lateres”. Wade was mesmerized by the glowing lights above.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the stars before.” Wade stated.

“So you’re a southie, eh?” Wolfgang assumed.

“I spent all the time I can remember in the south. I’ve never seen the sky without constant smoke.”

“Aren’t you a scout?” Sam tested.

“Yeah, but I only did south work.” Wade glanced back at the grimy ground.

“We’ve been north many of times. Never past the ‘War Zone’ obviously, we’ve never even gone near it.” Sam added.

“I heard ‘round each one of them stars is more planets like ours. Maybe they ‘ave other people on ‘em jus’ like us, starin’ into the sky and talkin’ about.” Grob commented, staring off into space.

“I heard each of the stars is a lost soul, wandering its way back to its body. But it will never find it.” Varia added to the conversation.

“I heard back in the old world they used to send giant machines into space and explore the stars.” Sam said. “What do you think they are Wade?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Maybe they don’t exist, they are just our imagination getting a hold of us, forcing us to see something that will fill our empty minds with joy.” Wade hypothesized.

“Huh, that’s one way to think about it.” Sam acknowledged. The group split into their own conversation, only Wade and Wolfgang were left out. Wade shifted over to peer into the careful work Wolfgang was laying out into his thick journal.

“What do you write in there?” Wade inquired.

“I write everything. How I’m feeling, what’s going on around me, how my day is going, etc.” Wolfgang told.

“Why do you do it?” Wade asked.

“I don’t know really, that’s something I have never answered myself. In my mind, there are two types of people in this world: those who try and prepare for the future and those who dwell in the past, and I am stuck in between, recording my present for no one.”

“How long have you been doing it for?” Wade marvelled.

“Longer than I can remember. I have events written in here from times I don’t recall. Everything that has ever happened to me is written in this journal.” Wolfgang explained. “I might turn it into a book someday, not that anyone will read it.”

“Where do you come from?” wade quizzed.

“Hell if I know. I’ve been travelling all my life.” He described, “My mother and father were killed when I was too young to understand what death was. I was taken into care by some old man. I don’t remember him, but around then is when I must’ve started writing, I have stories of me and the old man written in my journal. After that, I was moved into Old Grow, where I became part of a fight club for children. I only remember fragments of my time there, but apparently I killed one of the adults. They were gonna hang me in the town square, but this stern man named Fritz bought me out. He took care of me in his worn down shack until he left one day and never came back. I never mentioned myself by name in my journal before I was bought by Fritz, I think he named me. God, he was like a father to me. I never did know what happened to him or why he left. I nearly starved to death sitting in the shack, waiting for him to come back. That’s when these guys found my half-dead a*s in a nearly collapsed shack. I’ve stuck with them ever since.”

“You don’t remember your parents?” Wade spoke.

“No,” Wolfgang replied. “I don’t remember a lot. In my early days of writing, I would mention a girl by the name of Maize. I don’t remember her nor do I remember what ever happened to her. In my tellings, I referred to her fondly. We must’ve been friends, or even siblings.”

“Is that why you write? To remember what your brain can’t?” Wade asked.

“Could be, I was always scared of forgetting important stuff. Thanks to my book I can recall those memories easily. I’m just afraid that when I die no one will remember me, and I will fade into disexistence forever.” Wolfgang recalled.

“You’re an interesting man Wolfgang.” Wade remarked.

“Thanks” Wolfgang responded. A smooth silence encumbered the two as the soft voices of the groups other conversation disturbed the night. “Do you ever wonder what lays beyond the No Man’s Land?” Wolfgang started.

“I don’t think about much things.” Wade answered.

“I used to think the old world lay beyond the No Man’s Land. I thought the entire world was living in peace and harmony while we lay in the ashes, dying slowly. Nowadays, I know better. I think beyond the No Man’s Land, the world is the same. Everyone is living the same way we do, and they are wondering what’s past their own No Man’s Lands.” A protruded break of quiet broke between the two. “At times, I would like to meet Fritz and Maize again.” Wolfgang stated with remorse. “I wish they never left me alone in this dangerous world. The guys they left me with don’t even like me much.”

“Okay people let’s go to sleep.” Sam demanded, grabbing his short rifle. “I’ll take watch the first part of the night, and Wolfgang the second.”

“I wants to be on watch though.” Grob declared.

“Shut up you ol’ goss, tonight’s not your night.” Sam denied. “Okay, everyone get to your beds. We’ve got a ways to go until Orisis.”

“Talk to you tomorrow” Wolfgang concluded to Wade.

“You too.” Wade said. He lay down onto his thin cotton blanket and stared off into the slim line of fire in the far view. He’s never wondered what ventured beyond it before, but now he was intrigued by Its mysterious nature.

Orisis loomed immensely on the upcoming. Affected by its brutalist architecture, the dull gray building is one of the only structures left standing from the old world. The atmosphere was no longer a thickset velvet of black, but more of a dark gray that sunk through the bleak colors of steel and rubble. Two geared guards stood watch at Orisis’s entrance, armed with heavy automatic rifles.

“Hold it!” One of the guards demanded. “What’s your business in Orisis?”

“We are the ‘Revenant Comrades’.” Sam declared with glee.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The guard asked, confused. A brief awkward silence spread.

“We are a personal convoy. Wade here is our convoyee, he requested us to take him here.” Sam explained not so gleefully this time.

“Luit. Wade, what is your business here?” The guard attempted to ask the question again.

“I’m here to see Peter Smit.” Wade informed.

“Ah, strange fellow he is. He’s here, in fact he never leaves.” The guard and his comrade shared chuckles. “Just go right in Wade.”

“Thanks.” Wade stammered out. He turned to the ‘Revenant Comrades’. “I won’t take long. I’ll meet you out here when I’m done inside.” He spoke.

“Proshuss, Wade.” Wolfgang said as Wade passed through the large metallic doors of Orisis.

Orisis was a strange building. It consisted of a huge, empty first floor and elongated halls as the rest of the floors. Each one of the upper floors contained a surplus of confined habs in which many people lived. Wade strode into the wide, empty space that was the first floor. A dearing woman with wire-like hair stood at a desk stationed at the far end of the room. She smiled a shattered smile at Wade.

“Welcome to Orisis, What may I do for you?” she gladly offered her assistance.

“I’m looking for Peter Smit.” Wade replied. The grin faded off the woman’s face.

“He’s on the third floor, room 308.” She informed.

“Luit.” Wade said as he strode off. He entered the stairwell of the gray building only to be blinded by a horrendous odor. Bitter old people sat on the gritty metallic stairs, eyeing Wade with an unnerving passion. He moved slowly, but frantically up the stairs in order to avoid the stench of dying old folks. A man offered him a peculiar looking shiny object, but Wade didn’t bother to examine it. He reached his floor and opened the door, letting out his held breath in the process. He moved down the trashy corridor before stopping at a scratchy wooden door. The numbers 308 were bolted on with a golden metal. Wade knocked once and instantly received a reaction. The door shot wide open and a fragile red headed bloke with deep bulging forebode him.

“I see you did come for me. I was wondering why you were stoppin’ by.” Peter spoke in a rapid succession of raspy sounds.

“What?” Wade questioned the man’s sanity after only one sentence.

“I didn’t even introduce myself, I apologize sincerely. I’m Peter, glad to meet ya. I was peerin’ out my window and I saw you and your fellows show up all stern like. I knew you were comin’ for me from the instant I spotted ya.” He smirked some.

“I’m Wade.” Wade cautiously spoke.

“Well, come on in Wade! I’ve got plenty of space, well not really, but it beats livin’ in the streets don’t it!” Peter laughed to himself. “Well, I guess anything beats livin’ on the streets. Unless you're being tortured in a small cage.” Peter chuckled again. “You get what I’m sayin’, it was a joke that's all. Do you like jokes Wade?”

“Yeah, surething.” Wade agreed.

“Anyway, why’d you stop by Wade? You wanna sell me somethin’? You want me to sell you somethin’? I’ve got a lot of neat stuff Wade.” Peter declared.

“No, no selling. I’m a scout. I’m looking for a girl named Adria.” Wade briefed.

“Oh let me guess! She the blue lookin’ one with the pet crow?” Peter guessed. Wade stood, dumbfounded.

“No, she’s black-”

“Let me guess!” Peter cut Wade off. “She’s the short one with the scar that ran down her cheek like this ain’t she?” He ran his bony finger down his concave cheek.

“Yes, did you see where she went?” Wade just wanted answers.

“No, I jus’ saw her move north. I see a lot of people pass through here you know, it’s ‘cause my window. I can see everyone come and go.” Peter pointed at the cracked window resting at on the far end of his severely trashed room.

“Was she with anyone?” Wade asked.

“She was with some bald bloke. He didn’t look armed though.”

“Did you know who he was?” Wade proceeded.

“Nah, I normally keep an eye on everyone, I like watchin’ people ya know? But this bald a*s bloke, I’ve ain’t ever seen before.” Peter read off his mind.

“Did she look harmed in any way?” Wade questioned.

“Nah, she was pristine.” Peter contributed.

“So, can you point me the direction they headed?” Wade tried to end the conversation as fast as he could.

“They headed that-a-way.” Peter pointed directly north of them.

“What’s over there?”

“Many things really. They could’ve headed over to Black Raven, Jone’s castle, any of the small camps out there, the High Tire, Broken Mountain, Lead cropper factories, anywhere really.” Peter listed.

“How long ago was she here?” Wade quizzed.

“‘Bout A few weeks ago.” Peter replied.

“Okay, well thanks for the help.” Wade concluded.

“Luit, no problem!” Peter cried out. Wade fled the scene as fast as he could.

Wade moved across Orisis’s cracked concrete plaza and over to his convoy whom were still blocked by the guards.

“Do you know where ya goin’ now?” Sam asked.

“Folk said my target headed northwards.” Wade replied.

“Directly North?” Wolfgang asked.

“Yeah, straight that way he said.”

“So are we just gonna go north?” Hugh said with contempt.

“Well, High Tire is up there. Maybe your target is there.” Sam commented

“I think the target must’ve gone to Broken Mountain.” Wolfgang added.

“No, they definitely went to High Tire.” Sam denied.

“Didn’t we go to High Tire a few months ago? You’ve seen that hellhole up close. There’s no way the target went there.” Wolfgang remarked.

“Broken Mountain is under Jone’s Castle rule though!” Sam fired back.

“What’s that gotta do with anything? I’m just saying that High Tire is s**t and that Wade’s target didn’t go for it.” Wolfgang questioned.

“For christ sake. Wade, where do you think your target went?” Sam finally turned to Wade.

“No clue.” Wade responded hesitantly.

“I say we head north until we get more clues. Wade will pay for every kilometer we travel.” Wolfgang resolved.

“How much will he pay?” Sam accepted.

“10 pecus per kilometer.” Grob jumped in.

“I will end you.” Sam threatened Grob.

“2 pecus a kilometer.” Wolfgang came to a conclusion.

“Nu-uh. That’s too little.” Varia remarked.

“He’s paying 2 pecus a kilometer and that’s a deal.” Wolfgang hit back. “Is that a deal Wade?”

“Luit.” Wade answered.

“Oh please, I’m not about to let this lunatic lead us into a death trap.” Grob stated.

“Grob, shut up!” Hugh snapped.

“It’s fine Grob, we’re the ones with the guns here.” Sam calmed Grob. “We’ll take the main north roadway, see what we find.”

“Luit” Wade agreed.

“Is that fine with everyone or does someone else want to claim champion of being a pain in the a*s?” Sam half-joked.

“I’m fine with it.” Wolfgang was the only one to answer.

“Luit, pack it up people, we’re moving.” Sam concluded.

Orisis was now far in the distance abaft the group. They climbed over minuscule bumps of rubble that lay across the ground, covering any kind of path, as the day grew to a slow dim. Wolfgang continued writing away in his journal which never seemed to run out of withered pages.

“How long do you plan on writing in that journal?” Wade asked.

“Until I die or run out of pages.” Wolfgang informed.

“What if you lose the journal?”

“Then I’ll have to kill myself I guess.” Wolfgang finished.

“Hold it! Someone’s up there at the fork.” Sam shouted. Striding amidst a fork in the road was a meager man who taunted multiple bags and holsters strapped tightly around his waist. “You there, stop!” Sam directed at the man. The man quickly spun around to face the group before throwing his arms up in the air.

“Cease fire!” He pleaded, “I ain’t doin’ no harm! Imma jus’ passin’ to High Tire!”

The convoy sped up to where the man was stationed, carefully keeping distance with him.

“You armed?” Sam interviewed.

“No sir, I ain’t got me a single weapon.” The man admitted.

“What’s in the bags?” Sam observed. All sense of color was drained from the man’s disfigured face.

“Ain’t nothin’. I jus’ got food an’ medicine that’s all.” The man attempted to deceive. The group backed off a bit more.

“Open the bags.” Sam demanded. The man shook his bony frame.

“It’s nuttin’ of interest I tell ya.” The man’s voice devolved into a stutter.

“Open the damn bags old man!” Sam ordered.

“It’s nuttin’ I tell ya! Ain’t nuttin’ in these bags!” The man pleaded.

“Open the f*****g bags or I’ll put a hole in your head!” Sam pointed his rifle at the man.

“It ain’t nuttin’! Nuttin’ at all! They are my bags an’ I do what I wants with ‘em!” The man turned into a jumbled mess, shaking in the heat.

“Get down on your knees!” Sam demanded.

“Sam! Leave the poor b*****d alone!” Wolfgang directed. The man got down on his weak knees, nearly crying in the process. His weak structure was on the edge of collapsing.

“Please sir, I beg ya. Jus’ let me go, I ain’t doin’ you no harm.” He begged.

“Open the bags!” Sam chastised.

“Sam!” Wolfgang attempted to end the affair.

“I said open the f*****g bags!” Sam repeated. The old man silently let the bags drop to the ground. They toppled over, spilling out contents of organs, meat, and small, child-like limbs. The man steadily stared back at Sam, twitching uncontrollably.

“Please sir, I-I It’s nuttin’. I didn’t do it for me sir, they paid me.” The man commented. A protruded beat engulfed everyone as Sam lowered his weapon.

“You eat people?” Sam questioned.

“N-no sir, I-I jus’ gettin’ it.” The man responded in immensive stutters.

“Do you eat people?” Sam restated, this time raising his rifle back up to the man’s throat. The man hesitated. His relentless eyes bounced about the group.

“Ya have to understand sir, I’m hungry. I-I ain’t got no other ways. Imma die out here sir.” The man justified. Sam shot glances between the old man and his piles of stolen flesh. He lowered his rifle, letting the man gasp in relief. Sam looked back at the convoy.

“Let’s go.” Sam Said. He moved onwards, leaving the man behind, and the group followed.

The thin dusk had transformed into a thick haze of night. Stars above once again protruded the clouds of smoke above head. The group sat in a shallow cave of rubble and contorted steel as they watched their small oil lit fire burn. Sam, like everyone else, sat in ruffled silence; interrupted by the hushed crackle of flames. Sam quietly coaxed himself into content, but his act didn’t seem to penetrate the others.

“Ya know Sam, ya have to learn to just let some people be.” Hugh advised. “The man wasn’t doin’ us any harm. Hell, he wasn’t even armed.”

“What if he was armed? He would’ve shot me right then and there.” Sam rebutted

“He saw us all totin’ about our weapons. No way was he gonna attempt an attack.” Hugh claimed.

“You don’t know that, do you?” Sam started, “Maybe he had a death wish or maybe he was jus’ crazy. Hell, he was eatin’ people for christ's sake Hugh! That goss probably wouldn’t think twice ‘bout killin’ us all!”

“We all eat people Sam.” Hugh declared, “Ya know what’s in those ‘meat bars?’ It’s human, Sam. If you wanna spend the rest of your sorrowful time eating lizards and ‘grey lateres’ then fine by me, but don’t come crawling back to reality when you forget what it’s like to have somethin’ to eat. You’ve spent so much time livin’ in the Old World that you’ve forgotten how to survive in the new one.”

“I know how to live in the new world plenty!” Sam denied. A lengthy break submerged the group. “Let me tell you guys a story.”

“What kind?” Grob asked.

“Gather around, I’ll tell ya.” The convoy enclosed the fire. “This story is from the beginning of the New World.” Sam informed. “It’s called ‘There’s a Devil in the Forest’.”

“What’s a forest?” Grob questioned.

“Imagine tall pillars of wood, stretching far up ‘bout 20 feet. That’s what they called a ‘tree’. Now, imagine hundreds or even thousands of them all bunched up together. That was a forest.” Sam described.

“Bullshit!” Varia called out. “They all would’ve burnt down in an instant!”

“That’s why we don’t have ‘em anymore. They are nothing but ash beneath our feet nowadays.” Sam explained. “So anyways, the story goes like this: There’s this boy named Vitali. Vitali spends all his time playin’ outside of the forest. His parents tell him to never set foot into the woods, they say the toxicity in the air is twice as poisonous in there. Vitali however, is feeling adventurous one day, and he makes his way into the thick forest.  No more than a few minutes later Vitali comes running’ out to his mum and dad, screaming as loud as he could. ‘There’s a devil in the forest!’ He cries. His parents ask him how he knows and he responds with: ‘I saw him, I saw the devil! He has no eyes and his mouth is that of a beast!’ Vitali’s parents order him to never go into the forest again and he obeys. The next day, Vitali comes running up to his parents again. ‘Mum, Dad!’ He screams, ‘There's a devil in the forest! He’s burning the trees!’ His parents investigate and, sure enough, the treeline is aflame. The following day, Vitali is shouting once more, ‘There’s a devil in the forest! He took Boris and is eating him alive!’ The parents investigate but there is nothing to be found except for Boris’s torn boot. Vitali hid in his room, afraid to emerge, afraid to be eaten by the devil. Finally, after his parents have long since perished Vitali has gone hungry, he comes out of his house and goes into the woods. There, Vitali comes face to face with the devil, but the devil doesn’t eat him. Instead, the devil gives Vitali food. He gives Vitali something to work for. One day, Vitali is making his way through the soot and burnt wood when he spots a young child outside of the forest. The child’s eyes widen in fear and he mouths a familiar phrase; Vitali didn’t need to hear the child to understand what he was saying: ‘There’s a devil in the forest!’ The child cries.” Sam finished the story. “Grob, you’ll take watch the first part of the night and I’ll take the second. Get some sleep everyone.”

Author's Note

Chapter 4 coming once finished.