Bex - Outpost/Forest - Enrique
His boots crunched softly on fallen leaves and twigs. A faint powdering of snow sprinkled the ground but it was barely enough to cover up the dwindling colors of the late autumn. Still, Bex could see that his breath was visible in the crisp air. It was nothing compared to the northern winters that Bex was used to, but no one knew how harsh a winter in the apocalypse could be.
He shrugged his shoulders, readjusting his pack and the rifle strung around his shoulders. He had gotten rid of the camo gear that could have possibly outed him as a previous raider. All of the men had worn similar equipment because Tyler had called it "solidarity". Now all Bex had was a pair of ugly cargo shorts and a fur jacket that still smelled like a wet dog. He had galoshes on from the time they had spent in the marsh, but Tyler - Now calling himself Thomas - had said a life of swamp living was not for them.
The man himself, Tyler (Or Thomas, whatever), was lounging on a rock jutting out of the ground. He was sitting on a patch of moss and root, staring off toward god knew where. Bex stopped at the base of the large rock and stared at the man; He looked a bit like a classy hick with his pair of brown overalls over his fancy dress shirt. He also had on a fur jacket, one that Bex figured didn't smell like wet dog.
The man's demeanor had largely changed since the attack on the hideout, and not just because he had adopted the Thomas persona. Something innate in him had changed, almost as if he was going through some form of PTSD. For the life of him, Bex couldn't figure the man out. He also couldn't figure out why he was still following the man around. He could have shot Tyler back at the catacombs. He had been given the perfect opportunity to do so, but he ended up not taking the shot because he wasn't that kind of person, or at least that is what he told himself. Now he was still with the man, and a part of Bex was too curious to leave.
A part of Bex was also still scared of the man.
"They're ready to speak with us," Bex said, getting Tyler's attention. The man looked down at him and smiled, the action still frighteningly unfitting from the man Bex once knew.
"Perfect. Let's grab Enrique and get going."
***
They arrived at the log cabin a few minutes later. Bex was seeing it for the first time now; From the outside, it was a quaint little building with three or four rooms at maximum. There was a small porch at the front door and a small set of stairs. The man sitting on front step stood up and opened his arms in welcome.
"There you are. Welcome to our outpost, fellas. Come on in." He was an older man, probably a little older than Bex himself, with a buzzed head and a goatee that reminded Bex strangely of that one guy from Breaking Bad. They entered the cabin to find two more men inside. The young one with glasses and sandy blond hair eagerly shook hands with Bex and the others.
"I hope he didn't mind waiting," he said with a friendly smile. Bex watched Tyler smile at the man in turn.
"Of course not," he said. "We understand larger groups need these kinds of procedures."
"Were you three part of a larger group?" the third guy asked, his eyes squinting at the three of them. He had short black hair and a pair of grey eyes to match. He was probably in his twenties and Bex figured he was the most handsome of the three, though the dour look permanently stuck to his face ruined that slightly.
"Aren't most people?" Tyler asked. "It's hard survivin' out there without a couple of friends."
The man with the goatee nodded, apparently agreeing with Tyler. "Well then, let's get settled and we'll discuss what happens from here."
The six men settled into the sofas set facing each other. Tyler leaned forward, sitting up straight and giving the three men across from him a friendly smile. "I am Thomas Zuchowski. These are my companions, Bex and Enrique." He pointed at each man in turn. "We've been living in and around the marsh the last month, but we got to movin' once we got tired of it."
Goatee man nodded. "My name's Reggie." He gestured to Glasses man. "His name's Luke. The other one's-"
"Rudy," Squinty man said, interrupting.
Reggie gave Rudy a withering look. "Right, well, you three need to understand that we don't just let anyone into the group. We've had a few incidents in the past that could have easily been avoided by just being a little more careful. Outpost is in the forest, so the threat of bandits is less of an issue if we were in suburbia. The biters are also less sparse out here... Most of them get caught in the marsh. People are attracted to that sort of security."
"Wait, is your... community called Outpost?" Bex asked, leaning forward. "I thought you were just talking about this cabin."
"This is sort of Outpost's outpost," Luke said with a hint of amusement. "We use it as a base of operations sometimes, but usually its used to house potential new recruits like you guys. Those of you who can fight - Which looks to be all three of you - will join us on a few scouts before we let you join the community proper. It lets us get to know you, you know?"
Tyler smiled amicably. "And what if we couldn't fight?" he asked.
Reggie shrugged. "I suppose that'd be your choice. Either way, you'll be staying here while we keep tabs on you."
"Probation. I like that." Tyler turned in his seat to shrug off his jacket. "Warm in here, isn't it?" He waited until his jacket was off and set down on the table between them before continuing. "Where will these scouts be, anyway?"
Luke raised his hand slightly before speaking, as if he was in school. "There's a fireplace in the next room. And, uh... Usually around Lake Cataouatche. We've been up to Metairie and a bit up the Mississippi before. We try to avoid the bulk of New Orleans."
"Good, the city's full to bursting with danger," Tyler said, nodding. "I don't envy anyone trying to make a living there."
Reggie stood up, letting out a deep breath. "I'm glad we're on the same page then, gentlemen."
"Thank you three for your patience," Tyler responded.
Luke went to shake everyone's hand again. "No, thank you, Thomas." Bex almost snorted.
"Make yourselves at home," Reggie said, going for the door. Luke and Rudy followed after him. "We'll be back soon enough, but a word of advice..." He stopped at the door, his hand on the doorknob. He looked down at the ground for a moment before fixing a stare at Bex and the others. "Don't think of following us or looking for Outpost. We won't tolerate it." With that, Reggie and the other two left, leaving them alone.
Shannon - Haywood/Her Room - Daniel
Shannon stared at herself in the mirror, though all she could look at was the sling on her arm. It was a pain in the ass, not to mention the fact that her arm was still feeling pretty sore. Getting washed was a chore, which was awful when the alternative was smelling as bad as she felt. She could hardly get to sleep, always finding a way to lay on top of her arm and hurt herself. The female nurses helped dress her the first week, but Shannon but a stop to that quickly. It was time consuming, but Shannon managed to get her clothing on without irritating her arm too much. James usually offered to help, but Shannon wasn't about to let the kid see her dress.
She turned to James now and smiled at him. He was sitting on the bed drawing a picture. Shannon initially thought he was a bit old to be drawing, but it turned out James was actually very good at it. Better than her, even. He looked up at her in turn and smiled back. "That's a nice dress," he said.
Shannon turned back to the mirror. "I'm glad you think so." It was a green dress with a floral pattern on the skirt. Shannon wasn't a big fan of the flower stuff, but she always thought she looked nice in green. It brought out her eyes. "There's not much to work with around here, and with the sling, I don't have the luxury of trying a lot of different things on."
"You made the best of it, then." James then went back to his drawing.
Shannon stared into the mirror a little bit longer. She looked the dress up and down and realized that James was right, she had made the best of it. "I'm heading out for a walk," she said, grabbing her jacket.
She shared an apartment with James, even though some of the folks at Haywood found it kind of strange. She had decided not to carry on the lie that she was James' mother any longer. At her age, it wasn't even physically possible and so someone would have figured it out eventually. Despite this, James was starting to see her as a sort of motherly figure, though Shannon hardly knew the first thing about being a mom. She could take up her own mother's philosophy of baking a cupcake for each day of the week, but Shannon didn't trust herself around a baking sheet. Heck, it wasn't like they had the supplies to make many treats.
She stepped out into the cool November air and hugged herself. The winters had been far worse up in New York, but Shannon had never been one for the cold. Danny always found her snuggled on the couch watching lame TV movies about the holidays. He could never get her out of the house, no matter how many times Fred Claus came on.
Shannon knocked on Daniel's front door, figuring he was probably home at this hour. Between her injury and his sudden rise in standing, the pair of them hadn't had much time to talk. She smiled at him when he opened the door. "Hey," she said. "How's it going?"
His boots crunched softly on fallen leaves and twigs. A faint powdering of snow sprinkled the ground but it was barely enough to cover up the dwindling colors of the late autumn. Still, Bex could see that his breath was visible in the crisp air. It was nothing compared to the northern winters that Bex was used to, but no one knew how harsh a winter in the apocalypse could be.
He shrugged his shoulders, readjusting his pack and the rifle strung around his shoulders. He had gotten rid of the camo gear that could have possibly outed him as a previous raider. All of the men had worn similar equipment because Tyler had called it "solidarity". Now all Bex had was a pair of ugly cargo shorts and a fur jacket that still smelled like a wet dog. He had galoshes on from the time they had spent in the marsh, but Tyler - Now calling himself Thomas - had said a life of swamp living was not for them.
The man himself, Tyler (Or Thomas, whatever), was lounging on a rock jutting out of the ground. He was sitting on a patch of moss and root, staring off toward god knew where. Bex stopped at the base of the large rock and stared at the man; He looked a bit like a classy hick with his pair of brown overalls over his fancy dress shirt. He also had on a fur jacket, one that Bex figured didn't smell like wet dog.
The man's demeanor had largely changed since the attack on the hideout, and not just because he had adopted the Thomas persona. Something innate in him had changed, almost as if he was going through some form of PTSD. For the life of him, Bex couldn't figure the man out. He also couldn't figure out why he was still following the man around. He could have shot Tyler back at the catacombs. He had been given the perfect opportunity to do so, but he ended up not taking the shot because he wasn't that kind of person, or at least that is what he told himself. Now he was still with the man, and a part of Bex was too curious to leave.
A part of Bex was also still scared of the man.
"They're ready to speak with us," Bex said, getting Tyler's attention. The man looked down at him and smiled, the action still frighteningly unfitting from the man Bex once knew.
"Perfect. Let's grab Enrique and get going."
***
They arrived at the log cabin a few minutes later. Bex was seeing it for the first time now; From the outside, it was a quaint little building with three or four rooms at maximum. There was a small porch at the front door and a small set of stairs. The man sitting on front step stood up and opened his arms in welcome.
"There you are. Welcome to our outpost, fellas. Come on in." He was an older man, probably a little older than Bex himself, with a buzzed head and a goatee that reminded Bex strangely of that one guy from Breaking Bad. They entered the cabin to find two more men inside. The young one with glasses and sandy blond hair eagerly shook hands with Bex and the others.
"I hope he didn't mind waiting," he said with a friendly smile. Bex watched Tyler smile at the man in turn.
"Of course not," he said. "We understand larger groups need these kinds of procedures."
"Were you three part of a larger group?" the third guy asked, his eyes squinting at the three of them. He had short black hair and a pair of grey eyes to match. He was probably in his twenties and Bex figured he was the most handsome of the three, though the dour look permanently stuck to his face ruined that slightly.
"Aren't most people?" Tyler asked. "It's hard survivin' out there without a couple of friends."
The man with the goatee nodded, apparently agreeing with Tyler. "Well then, let's get settled and we'll discuss what happens from here."
The six men settled into the sofas set facing each other. Tyler leaned forward, sitting up straight and giving the three men across from him a friendly smile. "I am Thomas Zuchowski. These are my companions, Bex and Enrique." He pointed at each man in turn. "We've been living in and around the marsh the last month, but we got to movin' once we got tired of it."
Goatee man nodded. "My name's Reggie." He gestured to Glasses man. "His name's Luke. The other one's-"
"Rudy," Squinty man said, interrupting.
Reggie gave Rudy a withering look. "Right, well, you three need to understand that we don't just let anyone into the group. We've had a few incidents in the past that could have easily been avoided by just being a little more careful. Outpost is in the forest, so the threat of bandits is less of an issue if we were in suburbia. The biters are also less sparse out here... Most of them get caught in the marsh. People are attracted to that sort of security."
"Wait, is your... community called Outpost?" Bex asked, leaning forward. "I thought you were just talking about this cabin."
"This is sort of Outpost's outpost," Luke said with a hint of amusement. "We use it as a base of operations sometimes, but usually its used to house potential new recruits like you guys. Those of you who can fight - Which looks to be all three of you - will join us on a few scouts before we let you join the community proper. It lets us get to know you, you know?"
Tyler smiled amicably. "And what if we couldn't fight?" he asked.
Reggie shrugged. "I suppose that'd be your choice. Either way, you'll be staying here while we keep tabs on you."
"Probation. I like that." Tyler turned in his seat to shrug off his jacket. "Warm in here, isn't it?" He waited until his jacket was off and set down on the table between them before continuing. "Where will these scouts be, anyway?"
Luke raised his hand slightly before speaking, as if he was in school. "There's a fireplace in the next room. And, uh... Usually around Lake Cataouatche. We've been up to Metairie and a bit up the Mississippi before. We try to avoid the bulk of New Orleans."
"Good, the city's full to bursting with danger," Tyler said, nodding. "I don't envy anyone trying to make a living there."
Reggie stood up, letting out a deep breath. "I'm glad we're on the same page then, gentlemen."
"Thank you three for your patience," Tyler responded.
Luke went to shake everyone's hand again. "No, thank you, Thomas." Bex almost snorted.
"Make yourselves at home," Reggie said, going for the door. Luke and Rudy followed after him. "We'll be back soon enough, but a word of advice..." He stopped at the door, his hand on the doorknob. He looked down at the ground for a moment before fixing a stare at Bex and the others. "Don't think of following us or looking for Outpost. We won't tolerate it." With that, Reggie and the other two left, leaving them alone.
Shannon - Haywood/Her Room - Daniel
Shannon stared at herself in the mirror, though all she could look at was the sling on her arm. It was a pain in the ass, not to mention the fact that her arm was still feeling pretty sore. Getting washed was a chore, which was awful when the alternative was smelling as bad as she felt. She could hardly get to sleep, always finding a way to lay on top of her arm and hurt herself. The female nurses helped dress her the first week, but Shannon but a stop to that quickly. It was time consuming, but Shannon managed to get her clothing on without irritating her arm too much. James usually offered to help, but Shannon wasn't about to let the kid see her dress.
She turned to James now and smiled at him. He was sitting on the bed drawing a picture. Shannon initially thought he was a bit old to be drawing, but it turned out James was actually very good at it. Better than her, even. He looked up at her in turn and smiled back. "That's a nice dress," he said.
Shannon turned back to the mirror. "I'm glad you think so." It was a green dress with a floral pattern on the skirt. Shannon wasn't a big fan of the flower stuff, but she always thought she looked nice in green. It brought out her eyes. "There's not much to work with around here, and with the sling, I don't have the luxury of trying a lot of different things on."
"You made the best of it, then." James then went back to his drawing.
Shannon stared into the mirror a little bit longer. She looked the dress up and down and realized that James was right, she had made the best of it. "I'm heading out for a walk," she said, grabbing her jacket.
She shared an apartment with James, even though some of the folks at Haywood found it kind of strange. She had decided not to carry on the lie that she was James' mother any longer. At her age, it wasn't even physically possible and so someone would have figured it out eventually. Despite this, James was starting to see her as a sort of motherly figure, though Shannon hardly knew the first thing about being a mom. She could take up her own mother's philosophy of baking a cupcake for each day of the week, but Shannon didn't trust herself around a baking sheet. Heck, it wasn't like they had the supplies to make many treats.
She stepped out into the cool November air and hugged herself. The winters had been far worse up in New York, but Shannon had never been one for the cold. Danny always found her snuggled on the couch watching lame TV movies about the holidays. He could never get her out of the house, no matter how many times Fred Claus came on.
Shannon knocked on Daniel's front door, figuring he was probably home at this hour. Between her injury and his sudden rise in standing, the pair of them hadn't had much time to talk. She smiled at him when he opened the door. "Hey," she said. "How's it going?"
