Quentin

The summer air beat down on Quentin without mercy, draining him of all his will. Laying in the dead grass beneath his feet, he let out a sigh of pain. Being twenty three years old, you'd think he would have all the energy in the world, but that wasn't the case. A headache pounded his mind, making his vision go blurry and his walking unsteady. He knew that he wouldn't be able to go on much longer. Depression began to sink in and he sunk to his knees, letting the first stage of his panic attack set in. For just a second, he experienced a moment of clarity and pulled out a bottle of acetamedaphine, quickly swallowing a three of them. He sat in the sand for twenty minutes before the pounding began to fade and his mind began to clear. When he finally felt better, he put his bag back on and he pulled himself to his feet. Every time he reached a new town, he went straight to the hospital, in search of any sort of pain killers. Most of the time he turned up short, seeing as it had all been ransacked in the beginning when the riots and terror were still ever present.

Pulling out a bottle of water, Quentin took a quick swig and frowned, he only had one other left. Water was definitely a necessity. Running a nervous hand through his curly black hair, he looked west, the direction he was heading, and started off. It only took a few moments for sweat to start streaming down his back once more, what he wouldn't give to have a vehicle of some sort. Sad to say, he wasn't the fixer kind of guy, so he found himself walking. Sometimes he walked for days before coming across signs of civilization, which dampened his mood tremendously. The last group of people he had come across had ran him off, throwing stones and pointing guns at him; newcomers were not welcome, so he had left quickly and without much resistance.

Much to his disdain, Quentin looked up and watched as the sun began to fall beneath the horizon. Though its heat was unbearable, it was his only source of light, and he had hardly walked at all today. He knew he would have to find shelter soon before the scavengers came out. Queer as it may be, the genetic mutations that had been formed by the nuclear radiation seemed to like the cool night air much more than the day time. Of course that didn't mean they never came out in it, it just meant you were safer under the light of the sun than the moon.

The sand made it hard to run, but Quentin did his best. The sun was nearly all the way down, and he hadn't found a single good place to hide. What's the point of running, you'll die eventually, just stop now and get if over with. Terror grew inside of him the darker the sky became, making him realize jsut how much he treasured his life; sooner than he would have liked, he couldn't see any longer. Taking his bag off his shoulder, he whipped out a pair of night goggles. Usually on his adventures he wouldn't use them, but this was a dire situation and he knew that he would need them. Instantly the world relit itself and he could make out all the details, though they were all green.

Following the goggles, he took out a Smith and Wesson pistol; it was a bit old fashioned, but he liked it that way. Checking the ammunition and making sure it was full, he started to make his way forward once more, this time at a slow walk. Any sudden movements or noises would surely attract more Scavengers than he could handle.

Climbing over a hill took more effort than he would care to admit, but when he got to the top, he felt instant gratification. A decent sized town lay before him, dead as every other town he had ever seen, but a town meant places to hide; it also meant more Scavengers. Heading towards the nearest building, Quentin found a Scavenger scuffling down the street, making it's way towards a dog. How such a vulnerable creature had managed to stay alive for so long was beyond Quentin, but he wasn't about to let it die. Taking out his gun, he made his way quietly towards the Scavenger, letting it stay focused on the dog. Aiming that gun at it's head, he whispered, "come get some, mate," and pulled the trigger.

The mutant's head exploded all over the ground, showering the frightened animal in blood. It crouched on the ground, it's tail between it's legs. It had a sleek black coat and a good build, but it's ribs were showing and its stomach was bloated from hunger. The rottweiler was in really bad shape, bringing tears to Quentin's eyes. "Come here boy," he whispered encouragingly.

The dog let out a whimper and crouched lower to the ground. This is going no where... Quentin walked towards the large dog, slowly so as to not startle it. Holding out his hand, he placed it on his head, "I am not going to hurt you, mate."

The rottweiler pushed its head into Quentin's hand, accepting his friendship. "Good'eye mate," he whispered. Its thick, muscular body and black fur stuck a cord in Quentin, he used to have a dog during the beginning of the war, but the radiation quickly sunk into his body, destroying him. Looking down at the dog's neck, he was surprised to see a collar and tag still hanging from its neck, "Lookie there..." Grabbing it in his hands he turning it over and read the name engraved on its silver surface, "Russell, eh?"

The dog barked in confirmation and wagged it's tail, licking his hand. The bond between them was formed instantaneously and he knew that they were going to be pals. A few moments later, the dog turned it's head towards the wasteland outside of the city, sniffing the air. His shackles rose up and a deep growl formed in his throat, "Wassa matter mate? You smell someone?"

"Hey! I heard a gun go off. You a'right here?" Two people stood before him, one a young girl and the other a well built male. The girl couldn’t have been older than twelve. She had long, dirty blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail and her clothes were ragged and gross; Quentin couldn’t help but wonder when she last got new ones. The man was definitely in his late twenties, with average blonde hair and a stocky build.

Quickly judging the situation at hand, Quentin decided they weren't a threat. "Oi, c'mere Russell," he told the rottweiler.

His curly black hair hung in front of his goggles and he quickly flipped it aside. After analyzing the people before him for a while more, he realized his breath was becoming laborous again. Pulling out his inhaler, he took in a deep breath and said, "G'day, mate, just got in a little blue with a Scavenger, nothing to strenuous, who are yous and what're yous doing out here?" He hadn't really talked to a true American in about two years, so his accent was purely Australian, nothing American about it.

Confusion spread on the little girl's face, but Quentin could tell she enjoyed his accent because she quickly piped up with a small, "G'day!" a smile on her face as she tried to copy his pronunciation of the word.

"We're looking for a place to stay the night," the older man said, his own voice was only slightly accented, "Care to join us?"

The little girl bent down and was holding her hand out to Russell. "Hello puppy," she cooed, trying to get him to trust her enough to let her pet him.

"Don't touch him!" Quentin hissed angrily, shocking himself. The anger was unexpected. In reality, her sudden interest in Quentin's new companion was rather adorable, but then again, all little kids were. Glancing up at the older of the two, disregarding his outburst, Quentin said, "Aye, I might be able to consider doing something along those lines."

Russell let out a happy bark, loving the attention he was getting from the girl. "The name's Quentin Solace, y'all can call me whatever you bloody want," Quentin doled out a quick introduction, his courtesy a bit rusty since it had been so long since he had actually talked to someone who wasn't trying to kill him. "And who might yous be?"

"Silas Alric," the man replied shortly, "and this is Rey. If you're joining us, you better make up your mind because we're leaving." Rey whined at that, presumably wanting to play with the dog some more. Silas lowered his voice to her, his tone darkening as he spoke, "If you don't want to die, I suggest we hurry." Reyina's eyes grew wide, but she nodded and, ever smiling, followed behind Silas as they entered the town in the hopes of finding somewhere to stay. Quentin squinted his eyes, not liking the way he had handled the situation, but followed regardless.

Silas seemed unnerved, but that was to be expected. They were in a mutant infested abyss, and cover was the best thing to look for right now. "Alrighty then, mate," Quentin said softly, following the man's lead.

Quentin had never been to this city before, but he was pretty sure it was somewhere in the eastern United States. Glancing through broken windows and open doors, he evaluated their surroundings trying to get a good idea of where they should stay the night. Staying outside was a very bad idea and would surely get them all killed, so shelter was the top priority.

For being so dark and chilly, Quentin was surprised there were so few mutants out and about. It was cause for concern, but he decided it was better for him to try to not worry about it. The less mutants, the better.

Before long, the group managed to find a decent-enough stronghold. It stood up a bit better than a lot of the other houses, but was really nothing too special. But the doors were sturdy and it had a hidden basement as well. Overall, it fit their needs for the night. "I don't think we'll need to take shift tonight--I doubt any mutants will attempt, let alone be able to get through the entrance," Silas remarked, taking charge. Without saying anymore, he set out a thin blanket on the floor and rolled his jacket up for and pillow, closing his eyes and shutting both Quentin and Rey out.

Rey just kind of sat there awkwardly, and Quentin shot her a friendly smile, "So how long've you been with that bloke, eh?" The question was light and not meant to be intrusive, but you never know with children.

Setting down his bag and removing his night goggles, Quentin pulled out a sleeping bag, laid it on the floor, spread out his body and closed his eyes, waiting for a response.

Rey had gotten her sleeping bag out and laid it flat, but was still a bit too antsy to go to sleep just yet. So she sat there, shooting glances between Quentin and his dog, "We've only been together for a few days. He found me in another town all alone and told me I should join him! My brother had disappeared and Silas said he was probably dead so I came." Her answer was pretty blunt, but what did one expect from a child? Quentin couldn’t help but wonder what happened to her brother, where could he have disappeared to?

The way Rey spaced out made Quentin smile, he had always wanted a little sister, but his mother had died after giving birth to him and his father never remarried, so he never got the chance. "Well you're quite the lucky one, catching a Pom like that one!"

The girl's face changed from happy to sad when she spoke of her brother, so he quickly changed the subject. "What are you thinking about, ankle biter?"

A grin took over her face at his question. "I was wondering if you wrestled alligators?!" she answered, putting a finger to her chin. "Or maybe crocodiles? Do you eat big poisonous bugs?! Do koalas like to climb on you a lot? Did the kangaroos ever give you rides in their pouches?! Was everyday of your life a fun, new adventure?" Her eyes lit up in interest, and she used her arms to exaggerate her words. "You're from Australia, right?! Is it true that every animal there wants to kill you? How did you survive?" The girl lay flat on her stomach, her head in her hands as she looked up at Quentin.

The innocence behind the barrage of questions brought a smile to Quentin's face, and he laughed. "I've wrestled a few freshie's, they weren't much of a challenge, the saltie's were the real problem. bities are the real problem of Australia, the s**t's don't know what a smack means!" Pausing for a moment, he thought about all the adventures he did, in fact, have in Australia. The countless bogs and swamps he had explored, looking to prove himself by getting in a tussle with a few crocs. He had a large scar shaped like the jaw of a giant croc all along his side from where he nearly got bitten in half. "Roo's never let us near their pouches, that's where the Joey's where, much too dangerous to be around a momma and her babe." In all the time he had lived in Australia, he had only seen a handful of koalas, "Koalas were more into hiding than actually coming near us, I've only seen one or two."

Letting out a reminiscent sigh, he looked at her and said, "Everything in Australia tries to kill you." He was playing up the B.S. bar a bit, but she was a kid and he knew it would amuse her, "but I was smart enough to keep out of the way, or kill them before they got to me." Giving her a wink, he laid down and closed his eyes, leaving the rest to her imagination. Before long though, the girl was fast asleep in her sleeping bag, probably dreaming about his amazing Australian life, at least what she thought of it.

Reviews

[Meeks]

Is this a reenactment of one of the fallout series?

Also, why did you color the dialgue? Probably to make it easier to distinguish the speaker. You shouldn't do that, you won't get to color dialogue in any formal setting. Better to practice identifying the speaker now.

Overall, interesting. My prediction is that everything will fall apart in a 'walking dead' scenario, and they'll meet more people and then the people will die. Like a TV shpw, I guess.
It's gonna be interesting wherever you go with this. Keep it up, good luck!

[Obscured by the Shadows]

I usually don't color the dialogue. I am pretty good at distinguishing the speaker. I just enjoyed it XD I wanted to try it. Also, I have never played fallout, so no, this doesn't have anything to do with it. I have also never seen Walking Dead XD