[IC] RISE OF THE WALKING DEAD

[Mister Thirteen]

EPISODE 1: A KINDRED PAIR

______________________________________________________________________________


Bleak. That was the best way to describe it. Or at least that was the best description that John Marlow could think of. He had seen this very same scene so many times since it all ended, since the world ended and the dead had begun to rise and stalk the Earth. It was an abandoned town, a small countryside town in rural Kansas. The large, rusty green sign on the right side of the road identified the abandoned hamlet as “Briar Field”. Beneath the white letters of the town name the sign said “Population 767”. Not anymore. John thought grimly.

John stood in the middle of two lane road that lead straight into town. The tallest building to be seen was the church, about one hundred yards ahead of where John stood. The church was in the best visible condition of all the buildings John could see. The numerous brick buildings that lined the small street were dilapidated and caving in, the bricks faded and sprouting moss, and the doors and windows long gone, leaving only gaping entries into the crumbled structures.

The church stood tall and proud. Aside from a faded look to the white washed front of the building, John could see no major damages or sign of decay. Of course the opposite side and interior could be completely different stories.

John shifted his feet slightly, the sound of his boots seeming to echo through the forsaken town before them, he and his companion to the back. He reached his right hand up and adjusted the gray-black cowboy hat that sat atop his head. His weathered face was sincere and firm. A slight gust of wind whistled down the street and across his face, causing his long graying-black hair to flail slightly at the back of his neck.

In his left hand John held his Winchester rifle, down at his side. He checked his revolver at his right side, it was comfortably placed in its brown leather holster at his belt. He adjusted his the straps of his black backpack. Satisfied, he turned and faced the young lady at his back. His traveling companion of over two years now, Florence Davis.

“Alright, let’s go,” he said flatly,”we’ve got about six hours until sundown. We need to scavenge as much as we can and find a place to lay up for the night.”

[MissCapnCrunch]

X

Yellow was a blaring color standing on its own, but in the midst of a tragedy it seemed almost like a badly placed joke. Florence adjusted her bright yellow backpack on her shoulders as John had called her to attention. Florence Davis had been named after her grandmother- it was an older name and it didn't quite fit the young and ambitious woman but she had slowly started to grow into it. Most of her family and friends had called her Flo, but she would say it wasn't much better.

"How do you always know how many hours there are until sundown?" Florence questioned with a small smirk, she enjoyed picking at John's brain- his inner workings complex in comparison to hers at least so she thought. She increased her pace slightly to catch up with her companion so she wasn't as far behind as she sometimes got caught up looking at the places they had traveled through, looking for the simple necessities for survival.

It was clear that the church had withstood a lot of the world's damage, a bittersweet reminder of things that happened. She wondered if John had been a praying man before all of this as they walked towards the towering building, the exterior grand besides the means of protection with boarded windows and the discarding of items littered around the perimeter. "I never got to experience a proper 21st birthday, so if there is wine left- I think I should get first dibs." she teased, not really wanting to indulge in the imagined wine- though she wouldn't turn it down if they recovered some.

[Mister Thirteen]

John walked briskly on, yet not unreasonably fast, but a moderate pace, his boots scraping on the asphalt of the street. “You can judge the time of day by the sun’s position,” John said, regarding her remark about his instinct of time,”at high noon the sun is directly above, and look where it is now.” He pointed to the left, or west. The sun was in a dipping path, but could still be seen over the rooftops of the dilapidated buildings.

“It’s roughly around four o’clock I’d say,” John said,”which means we have about three and a half hours left of daylight.” He walked on, looking back briefly to make sure that Florence was still behind him. He looked to the left, just short of the towering church which they now stood before, then to the right, there were two streets heading in opposite directions. Aside from houses down both streets, John noted other buildings of interest. Down the left street, he could see a bookstore, a mini-mart, and a service station.
Down the street to the right, he could see a bakery, a hardware store, and sportsman’s store.

“And in regards to wine...” John began, looking around at Florence,”I don’t think so. You can try a beer though. Provided we find some that isn’t flat.”

[MissCapnCrunch]

X

John had always been a tracker of time, the sun, the stars, the moon. Florence admired it, but always asked too many questions about everything, because she couldn't really wrap her head around the entirety of it. How was it that so many times could be in the world, and yet here where they stood it seemed time stood still. Or so it felt like most days.

Flo followed his gaze as he looked down both streets, they probably would only get to cover one tonight so they had to choose wisely- so often the daylight was wasted on places that had nothing beneficial to their journeys. John's comment made Florence chuckle a little, "Aww you're no fun." she sang, pleased that he would let her try the beer at least.

"How do we get in here?" she pondered looking around the church's facade, until finally spotting a higher up broken window. Was it worth it? If she even got through what would be on the other side? Then she would be trapped with no fast escape. "There is a broken window up there, but we might be able to get in one of these doors if we work together." she commented, raising her eyebrow to John to see what he thought of the situation; if the should even waste their time getting into this church. Though it was clearly boarded up for a reason.

[Mister Thirteen]

John scratched at his whiskered cheeks with his right hand as he studied the church. His narrowed eyes darted about as he looked it over, up and down.
“We’ll worry about the church later,” he said, turning around to Florence,”let’s gather up all that we can essential-wise. Let’s try that
mini-mart first. Be good and I’ll take you to the bookstore.”

John headed down the street to the left, stepping off the pavement onto the narrow sidewalk on the left side of the street. He casually looked to his right as he walked, and noticed the rusted and battered pickup truck parked on the curb parallel to the sidewalk on which he walked. The truck was a rusty brown, and had a rather thick frame and broad front and rear bumpers. John imagined it had been quite a decent vehicle before. Back then.

He looked back at Florence again as he walked, and as he turned back around said,”Man, I do miss my pickup truck. I tell you Flo, if I had that rough rider we wouldn’t have to walk anywhere. Hard enough to find a reliable vehicle back then, damn nigh’ impossible when all the dealerships are permanently closed.”

[MissCapnCrunch]

X

When John decided they would leave the church for later, Florence couldn't help but let out a sigh of disappointment, but her tune soon changed when he said they could hit up the bookstore. Though before the outbreak the book store was the least visited place in Florence's life- in today's world the bookstore was a vacation. Often days where there was nothing to do, she would curl up with a book and get lost for a few hours, sometimes even using the light from the campfire to keep the pages alive and keep the story going for just one more chapter.

Following behind her companion, kicking a rock now and again when felt the need she looked towards the truck John had been referring to. "My dad had a truck too." she commented, with a bit of sullen sound. She had spent many of summer nights with mountains of blankets and pillows in the bed of the truck during a drive-in movie theater night, something their family had done now and again before everything. "I don't mind walking." she said a little cheer in her voice as she looked into John's eyes for a moment. It was true that transportation would improve their lives so much for the better, but there was something about using your feet to get you to your destination that made the reward that much more better.

Skipping up the front steps of the mini-mart, Florence pushed open the front door that rang with a dull twang of a bell that at one point had a lot of use. Her eyes gazed up to the system as she looked back to John with raised eyebrows, "I miss music." she admitted as she turned back and walked into the store, showing a distressed mess. The shelves toppled over as things had been picked over, twice in the initial rush of survival. Picking through a few boxes, Flo looked for anything they could salvage.

[Mister Thirteen]

John followed Florence into the store. He had smirked wryly at her mention of missing music, “Yeah I know what you mean,” he said hoarsely,”I do miss the sound of Toby Keith and Dolly Parton.” He lay his rifle on the counter and followed Florence in the pursuit of useful goods or items. John had always taught her that food and drink items were the first essentials to look for. After that were things like ammunition, better weapons, basic tools, and salvageable clothes. While “useful” could amount to near anything, John more or less had taught Florence the idea of things to be taken on site.

His eyes skirted across the empty counter and bare food racks, and disappointedly across the many empty shelves. The entire building was in bad condition. The wall was crumbled and cracked, the light fixtures and electrical wiring were hanging raggedly from the ceiling which was split by deep cracks. “Hey Flo,” he said loudly as he eyed the decaying walls and ceiling,”be careful. This whole building looks mighty’ unstable. The cieling or walls could come down easily.”

As his eyes scanned the store, it was then that he saw the numerous cans pushed towards the back of a single metal shelf near the back of the store. John briskly approached the rusty shelf and squatted down slowly, pushing his hat back on his head. He saw three cans sitting snuggly together against the back of the very bottom shelf, easy to miss by someone in a rush. John reached in and pulled them all forward toward him, his large hand and fingers cupped against them.
Two sealed cans of pork and beans and a large can of bacon. If nothing else, John knew that the canned bacon would at least be fine to eat, as it would be cured with salt.

I have missed bacon. John thought with child-like glee as he stood and slipped the three cans into his bag. He browsed several shelves over and found a sealed package of dried orange slices, which he collected, and after that a lone can of string beans.
“Found anything, Flo?” John asked as he rounded a set of shelves.

[MissCapnCrunch]

X

"You sound like my Pops." she laughed as John mentioned the artists he missed. Florence was more into the newer top of the billboards hits, but she could appreciate everything across the board. Her dad had wanted to bring her to Dollywood at one point in time, but the opportunity never came about. She wondered what a place like that would look like now, a graveyard of memories and good times. The roller coasters a mass of metal and carnage.

Taking John's words into consideration, Flo nodded as she looked up at the ceiling. The cracks ran through for miles and deep, as if breathing hard would push it to it's breaking point. She squatted down and looked in the places that most people would not bother going the extra mile for. A can of pinto beans, and a pack of tuna her splendor. Making a pout, Flo debated putting the tuna back, the smell of fish making her sick at just the thought. "Beans, and stinky tuna." she called back extending her legs to a standing position. She dusted off her knees briefly picking the cans up and scooping them into her arms.

Walking towards where John was, her eyes darted along the shelves and the ceiling.