SNIP

Amy stood in the center of the riding ring as 12 students on 12 of their most docile mounts watching their every move and correcting any mistakes she saw them committing in a stern but not angry tone knowing that the latter was more likely to cause mistakes rather than correct them. Her students today weren’t much of a strain because of their ages most between the age of 10 to 14 years old many of them hoping to one day be troopers like their parents or to use the skill to climb out of the slum that had formed near Armstrong.

Amy knew that she was lucky to be in her position as an expert in horses and that she didn’t mind riding out on patrols and acting as a field medic for the troopers though she was actually there more to see to the mounts and their health and the troopers came second. The troopers saw her as a friend because she or her mom had been the one who had taught them to ride and the fact that only a few of them could actually keep up with her cross country even though in a long run they stood little chance of staying with her as she weighed half what they did giving Andy her mount more wind. It was their familiarity that kept her safe and the fact that there was no drinking allowed at the Ranch because the watch there were guarding the herds of horses and cows that had been gathered, this meant they approached her as a woman they respected rather than drunk horndogs looking for some boom, boom.

Nearby at the fence were Don and Tony two company commanders about 5 to 10 years her senior and enamored of her and while they both were respectful they also sought a solution to the question of who’s woman she’d become and she knew that she didn’t have more than another year to put them off. She had to admit that she did like them but that didn’t detract from the fact that both acted as a wall to any other choices and that she didn’t like.

It was her impending marriage that had caused her to have a quiet conversation with her parents telling them of how she planned on escaping Armstrong most likely when she she was out hunting so that no one would be suspicious of her leaving on Andy and taking two of her other horses as pack animals. For her run she had saved up about 35 loose metal arrowheads over the last two years originally saving them as a packrat taking advantage of the supply. It had been easy because the troopers themselves lost arrows all the time out hunting and even though she rarely did she allowed the supply officer think she was less accurate with her bow than she was so that she could get extra.

Oh well that was all a dream till put in action and she had to keep up with her students before her mother noticed. Her mom was a fierce Norse woman who had decided to view the world as if they had been transported back to the days the Jarls and viewed the Colonel as one of those strongman types which for reasons she didn’t understand he responded to even looking on her family as a form of rural and useful Nobility, which was also way people that resented her called her “Princess Pony”. She was aware of the salacious stories and might have said something had her mother not seen to it that she give it no notice so long as none said it to her face; she had no choice but to comply.

---

---

Amy you are going to spill one of these days riding like that and it is a wonder poor old Andy doesn’t have some injury said her dad as he finally caught her sitting sideways on Andy the two of them leaning against a tree.

Andy likes to run like that, I only make suggestions and try to hang on. said Amy in return, her tone wistful.

Alright Gloria, what’s on your mind teases her dad using the name he said was her real middle name.

First off Summer doesn’t like that saddle, she likes the hunter not that heavy western.

Second is obvious, Men as in plural and my developing age as a perishable commodity; how can I make a choice when my choices are so limited.

Don is sweet he brings me as many books as he and his troop can spare space on when the make salvage runs and Tony, well he’s sweet and well read can recite poetry, is the best dancer and could make a girl happy as his wife but only if she wants to be smothered but I don’t feel anything for them. If I try and talk to any guys my age they find some way to get rid of him and I’m not sure they are diplomatic about it.

Oooo…...Let me catch.. she said till her dad stopped her rant touching her shoulder with his hand leaning across.

I should have married a fat ugly woman so I’d have a fat and ugly daughter but I wasn’t that lucky; I got stuck with your mom and you. then he sat up in the saddle looking across the dam which was one of the fortified outposts Armstrong and the main water supply.

It’s a father’s curse to have a lovely daughter, especially in a world gone to hell

Figured out where you might go? he asked her as he bit his lip.

I was looking at possibly heading northwest maybe crossing the Tennessee river east of Chattanooga then heading out and see if I can’t get in on the new North Americans of the Plains.

We will be a fierce people and call ourselves the Bunny People she said in a mockingly serious tone.

They laughed then sat watching the sparkling waters of Mitchell Lake in silence

December 2, 2027

Sierra-Armstrong

---

BEEP. BEEP. BEEEEEEEP.

To Kaitlyn Novak, alarm clocks kind of felt like someone placed a metal wedge into her ear, then proceeded to grab a sledgehammer and slam it home repeatedly. So it was no surprise when a slender hand reached up and smacked her clock straight off her night stand. It bounced on the carpeted floor once, then settled there peacefully, it's batteries lay a foot away, leaving nothing but beautiful silence. The hand that took revenge on the noise demon of the morning snaked back under the covers as the figure beneath snuggled deeper into the quicksands of her bed. That is, until her mother came to bash on her door for what seemed like eternity.

"Come on sweetie they'll be waiting for us at the med-wing," her mother pleaded. Another series of raps on the door elicited a seemingly feral growl from Kate. Switching to a different tactic, Amelia Novak leaned against the door of her daughter's room, "I have coffee waiting for you downstairs," she offered seductively.

Finally, Kate's voice called out, half muffled from the pillow she had her face thoroughly stuffed into. "You know mother, bribery is looked down upon by most people." It came off as grouchy but Amelia Novak smiled nonetheless, knowing that it was actually Kaitlyn's crass sense of humor.

"So I'll see you downstairs soon then?" Amelia replied triumphantly as she turned on her heel and danced down the steps to the first floor of the Novak residence.

Kaitlyn's voice could be heard from the floor below as she lifted her head from her pillow and admitted, "I said bribery was looked down upon, I never said it didn't work." Kate sat up from her sprawled out position on her bed and sighed, trying to ward off the sleepiness that was lulling her to return it. With a quick shake of her head that sent her brunette hair in every which way, she bounced out of bed. Then, almost comically, her left foot smashed hard into the alarm clock that lay on the carpet from earlier. With an undignified squeak, Kaitlyn shot into the air, bouncing on one foot while grasping the injured appendage. "Son of a..... Fuck!" She managed to verbalize as she sat back on her bed and massaged her foot. Alarm clock from hell, she thought to herself, plugging the batteries back in and returning it to its rightful spot on the nightstand.

After reading that it was 5:45 A.M. Kate sobered up and quickly moved to the bathroom to shower. Warm water was a luxury Sierra-Armstrong couldn't afford and the icy water always managed to elicit a gasp of surprise from Kaitlyn every day. It sure as hell woke her up though, even though it only lasted five minutes. When Kate came down the stairs to meet her mom in the kitchen for morning coffee her hair was still wet. She was wearing well fitting jeans with a white shirt and her trademark black leather jacket along with black combat boots. Normally this wasn't proper nurse attire, but when the world ends, some customs had to get thrown out of the window.

The two women stood in the kitchen together, Kate leaning on the island and Amelia leaning against the sink, each had a coffee cupped in their hands, sipping quietly. Kaitlyn frowned as memories of a much fuller house entered her mind, without Dad and Damian, the house just felt... Empty. She had come to terms that they were probably dead or even worse turned. She had accepted that she would never see them again, but acceptance didn't alleviate the pain and grief. With a small sigh she bit the inside of her cheek and dumped the last of her coffee into the sink, no longer in the mood. Briskly, Kate grabbed their bag pack that they stored their food in. "I'll go get this week's rations from Mr. Collins. Meet you in the med' wing?" Kaitlyn mumbled as she exited the house, not waiting for a reply. Amelia watched her daughter leave with concern in her eyes, they too carried the weight of grief.

Amelia hated the mess hall. Usually it was filled to the brim with obnoxious soldiers, drinking their sorrows away and leering at any potential fuck toy they could get their grubby hands on. Keeping her head down, she quickly moved through the rations line, waiting to reach Mr. Collins so she could grab food for her and her mother this week. When she reached the man she had to control her facial expression. Mr. COllins was a portly man that looked like he had 20 too many Big Macs, how he managed to stay fat during the end of the world was beyond Kaitlyn's imagination. The worst part about him was the smell, his odor was a mix of week old meat and French fires. Standing in his general area was enough to make Kate want to gag. Mr. Collins smiled as she approached, though it looked more like a wolf spotting its prey more than a grin.

"Ah, the beautiful Ms. Kaitlyn, back once again, have you been thinking about my offer?" The man leered, openly staring at her chest. It took everything within her to keep a level gaze, though she gestured for him to keep his eyes on her face. Last week when she came for rations, Mr. Collins suggested that she come home with him that night if she wanted a little extra food in her belly. Kaitlyn kindly declined, this sort of thing was normal, though she hated to admit it. Just one price for safety in Sierra-Armstrong.

Kaitlyn forced a smile and laughed slightly. "I don't think your wife would like that sir, among other things... Can I please just get my rations?" Collins shrugged and slid the food forward. Kate quickly packed away the food in her bag and turned to leave when Mr. Collins grabbed her wrist with surprising strength.

"Come on Kate, just one night. You'll never have to worry about being hungry again, I can provide for you. Isn't that what you want?"

Kate yanked her wrist away, rubbing where he grabbed, her patience had run thin. "Look, I've been very respectful to you, but if you touch me again I will cut your hand off and shove it down your throat. Do you understand?" All pretense of amicability gone.

Mr. Collins glared at her, unconsciously taking a step back, probably surprised by her ferocity. Most men around there weren't used to women talking back. "Get out. And don't bother coming back next week for rations." Collins said this simply, though he had a smug look on his face once again as he moved onto the next resident picking up food.

Kaitlyn stomped out of the mess hall, furious at herself for fucking up so badly. Controlling your emotions was the first thing she learned as a kid, everything in the apocalypse had to be carefully planned out. She wasn't sure how she was going to explain this to her mother, the only reason she was getting rations was because Mr. Collins had pulled the same stunt with Amelia. Now they were shit out of luck, unless she went back there pleading to boost his ego, which she despised the idea of.

---

Entering the med' wing, she shook off all her problems and entered her work state-of-mind. The only thing that mattered in this building was helping people who needed it, there was no time for her own bullshit. Kate pulled her hair into a ponytail as she entered the break room, hoping to find her Mom and a few of the other nurses there. Who she found was one of the nicer nurses, Heidi. Heidi was this little Japanese woman who loved to talk about her life before coming to shit-hole America right when the outbreak hit. Kaitlyn loved to listen to her stories, even though Heidi talked too fast and had a thick accent. The little woman was in the middle of telling how great her son had been at playing the piano when one of the older nurses, Gwen, peeked her head into the room. Kate looked up, smiling, she liked Gwen as well, she was very sweet. The smile stayed on her face until Gwen spoke.

"Damian is back."

Kate shot up from the seat she had been perched in, sending it toppling over. "Where?" She exclaimed frantically. It couldn't be true, she had to see him with her own eyes, hold onto him to make sure he was real and wouldn't leave again.

Gwen shook her head, "they were taking him to the Cell Block,, hun." Kaitlyn was already out the door and sprinting to the cell blocks. On her way out she spotted Amelia walking through the halls. Without stopping she called to her mother. Mom! Someone saw Damian, they're taking him to the Cell Blocks!"

Now there were two Novaks racing through Sierra-Armstrong. Two guards were stationed at the Cells, blocking the entrance way. Kate was ready to bust the whole place down but the guards stopped her. "Sorry ma'am, no entrance is permitted right now. Official business."

Kaitlyn glared at the man, "Official business can suck my ass. My brother is in there so it's my business now. Let us in! He's family, don't you get that?" She held back angry tears, a part of her still felt like someone was going to pop out of the bushes and laugh about how gullible she was for falling for a prank as simple as this.

December 2, 2027

Sierra-Armstrong

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"Oi thas right julie give 'et to her!"

Private Darcy yelled out to Private Bella who threw a punch right into Private Gavarask's face, the soldier fell as Bellia mounted the younger man and began to throw punches right into his face. Gavarask a lanky white soldier begins to bleed from his nose and mouth as Bella, a lean butch of a woman pounds into his face. The pounding only lasts a few minutes as Gavarask starts to beg and grovel, his face dribbling blood and spit as Bella dismounts from the man. "That will teach you to try and touch me, piss baby." She says before spitting onto Gavarask, Bella then begins to walk back to the Garrison.

Bella stood at about six feet, tall for her height as she was a walking brute. The tanned girl was about twenty years old, brown hair blue eyes compared to Gavarask who was only eighteen years old. Skinny, pale as a piece of chalk with buzzed blond hair. He wasn't much to look at now as he laid crumpled up on the grass. Briggs stood off to the side with Darcy as the two had observed the fist fight - well beat down as Gavarask was scared of hitting women but he sure liked to try and touch them. It had been a while since everyone has been down through the hole in the wall.

There was a gap between the make shift wall that surrounded Sierra Armstrong, right behind the Garrison the spot lay out of the eyes of most guards. Except a few, and maybe Novak - they wouldn't of let him leave right? When Briggs found the gap and shared it with a few guardsmen the conclusion was drawn that Novak must have found or made the gap to leave. It was a way out, to a nice forest at least and that's where the four guardsmen visited once a week.

Briggs leaned on a tree beside Darcy as the two guardsmen fought it out on the grass, he tried to maintain a neutral look as he watched the beating Gavarask. Things had been smoother since Novak left, for them at least since Novak had left. Besides some small disturbances, and Ollie Sierra-Armstrong was relatively peaceful, or so it seemed. "Let's wrap it up, we don't have much time until breakfast and we should be back when they wake us up in the morning." Briggs says as he makes his way back to the gap, Darcy begins to follow in tow "Rioght rioght, one 'ella of fight eh?" Darcy joked, his accent cutting into the air as he spoke. Darcy put a hand on Briggs's shoulder "Mm, it made my day that's for sure Troye." Briggs chuckled as re-entered the wall to Sierra-Armstrong, the three soldiers soon followed in tow. Albeit, Gavarask slowly trudges behind the group as he is the last to come through.

It doesn't take long before the group makes its way back to the mess hall in the Garrison. The group formed around Mr. Collins, it didn't take too long for him to distribute the rations. Private Bella was too masculine for him cat call, or perhaps it was the fact she would beat his ass if he did. Regardless, the soldiers went to sit down at one of the vacant tables. It doesn't take long for them to lock their legs under the plastic cafeteria table as they sit down on the benches. "Tha' fat fuck was lookin' at me funny eh?" Troye gestures towards Mr. Collins "You want to jump him, like we got the time or commitment for it? I think there is a better fight to pick, Darcy."

Briggs bites into the stale food while his eyes drift over to Bella, she begins to stare him down before he quickly looks away. "Guys. I'm gonna go get treated, I think you broke my nose again - Bella." Gavarask whines before taking his ration, he then leaves the table while Bella grunts. "Fuckin' faggot." She spits out while Troye and Briggs bite their tongues and remain quiet, enjoying their food in the solace while the cafeteria continues to be as ever lively and vibrant without their discussion.

About ten minutes later of silence and eating, a scene breaks out at the ration line as Mr. Collins. "Ey look Collins is tryin' to rape that julie!" He taps Briggs on the back and points to Mr. Collins who barks something at Kait. "Oh shit." Briggs muttered to himself before he found himself putting a hand on Bella's shoulder as she tried to get up. She pushed Briggs back who fell into Troye "My oatmeal!" Troye roars out loud as he spills the food on his ACUs.

While Briggs is busy tending to Troye, Gavarask walks up with a patched up face and an even more grimmer frown on his face than usual.

"Damian Novak is back."

---

Ollie strolled through the winding paths of the slums, watching a series of urchins run by him who all seemed to be playing. It made Oliver crack a smile, a rare occasion in itself. He lifted up the hood of his grey hoodie and let it rest on the top his head. Hands in his tracksuit pockets, Oliver continued to wonder around Sierra-Armstrong. It almost seemed everyone was in a hurry, all converging onto the garrison in a hushed group. News always travels fast in the small community. Deciding to pick up the pace, the young man began to jog, not wanting to miss any of what was going on. Information was a powerful tool. Much more powerful than any gun or knife a soldier uses. Oliver almost spitted at the mere thought of any of those slimy bastards.

As he got closer to the source of the commotion, Ollie tried to pick out as much about the situation as he could by eavesdropping on various people around him. 'Novak... Back...'. The few words that kept coming up again and again. If this was true, Sierra-Armstrong was about to get a whole lot more interesting. Oliver looked around for any kind of vantage point he could use to look over the small crowd. Being at the threshold of teenager and adult didn't help him much when trying to view things over a blocking object, or in this case a group.

Oliver spotted a guttering pipe onto the side of a house which was at the perfect height. No one would notice, they were all too busy trying to get to the incident. Gripping the pipe with confidence, Oliver nimbly crept up the side of the house, using the brackets as grips and footrests to secure his climb. Swinging himself onto the roof, Oliver calmly crawled up to the edge and sat on the side, letting his legs dangle over the roof. He was able to see everything, and what was most interesting was a young woman arguing with a couple of guards. While he was too far away to hear what was being said, he could identify the woman as Kaitlyn. Damian Novak's sister. That could only mean one thing, and his suspicions was true. Damian Novak had returned

"Shit......"

Waking up late had its effects. You might not be served breakfast, or you might be given more work. Or, the boy who was your best friend and had left over half a year ago returned.

---

Olivia woke up late, not expecting to have slept so much. Light poured in from the dirty window, and she was sitting on the edge of her bed. She stared at her feet, not really thinking but not wanting to get up. After she'd spent too long sitting there, she got up and headed to the shower. It was cold, like always. But there were way more benefits to having a cold shower rather than a hot one. Even if you hadn't had a hot shower in years...years.... She stared at the shower wall, her mind wandering to different thoughts. Thoughts of her old life. Thoughts of Damian. She quickly shook her head. She hadn't allowed herself to let her mind drift there for half a year, and she wouldn't allow it to start happening now.

Oliva quickly found clothes and dressed in what she needed for the day; jeans and a black tanktop with her leather jacket over it. She pulled up her hair into a ponytail and tied it with a piece of fabric. Looking into the mirror, she saw how worn down and tired she was. Liv picked up the necklace she always wore and put it on, tucking it under her shirt. She picked up the photo of her, her brother, and her father she kept tucked in the side of the mirror and gave it a kiss before walking out. She didn't bother with breakfast; she didn't have the stomach for it today.

Liv headed over to the medical wing, which wasn't too far away. She was surprised to find that Katie and her mother weren't there. Perhaps they were late too, and it was just going to be a late day?
She began scrubbing her hands clean, even though she had just taken a shower. She needed to be ready to work.
"Where are they...," she muttered under her breath, not expecting a response. Yet she was given one by a fellow nurse.
"Haven't you heard, girl? Damian Novak is back."
Liv's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes dilated. A confused look appeared upon her face. "Damian..." she trailed off.
"Yes, Damian is back," the woman said, obviously annoyed at having to repeat herself.
"W-Well where are Kaitlyn and Amelia?" she quickly followed.
"They tried to go see him at the Cell Block, but I doubt-"
Before the woman could finish, Liv was out of there and rushing towards the Cell Block. Damian...no word from him, and all of the sudden he was back? Was his father back too, then?
She found herself now running, unbelieving that this was the day Damian had decided to come back. She soon saw the two Novaks, not being permitted in.
"Kaitlyn," she spoke out, not quite sure how to continue. She just knew two things; she needed to be there for her best friend, and she needed to tell-off Damian Novak.

“‒is here.”

“..Who?”

Sussurrous conversations behind closed doors was no novelty to Josiah, especially in the cesspool of Sierra-Armstrong. Even now, as the clerk recorded stock quantity of pharmaceuticals, foods, beverages and nonessentials on a clipboard with a languor alien to him, Josiah’s attention was garnered not by the fact that muffled voices could be heard less than ten feet away from him in the supervisor’s office, but the startlement which came from them.

The clipboard in Hewitt’s hand was idly discarded on a box of syringes as he gingerly approached the office door. The voices, raspy with emotion and forced quietness, grew more clear as Josiah approached on raised heels. Cautiously leaning his ear against the cool face of the door, the voice of Hewitt’s supervisor, Lee Graham, hissed angrily at his unknown guest.

“Why the everliving fuck are you telling me this? Do you think me knowing will keep my ass safe, José? ‘Cause if anything I’ll be killed for knowing that they allowed a deserter back in!” Graham’s quieted exclamations rose and fell as he enunciated how screwed he believed himself to be.

“Relax, bud, everyone’s gonna know soon. Can’t run a county if you don’t have people.” Josiah felt a debauched, ghostly hand on the nape of his neck. José Ruiz was a courier and, befittingly, a notorious gossip who hit on Josiah on more than one occasion (which he always tentatively turned down) before he had enough sense of self-possession to tell José to drift.

“The kid came without his father, too. No sign of the old man,” again came the whispers of Ruiz, and Josiah barely managed to stifle a gasp. No name had been said or heard, but, as he backed away from the door in dry disbelief, Josiah knew Damian had returned.

Returned from out there; Hewitt always introspectively referred to what was beyond Sierra-Armstrong as the outlands. He did not think that the outlands offered any solace aside from death.

The one, sole image that remained burned onto Josiah’s mind for the remainder of his shift was that of his father.

Are you alive, dad? Could you be? Josiah wondered dreamily.

Please...please be alive.