Annie2002

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

It was nearly dusk before Annie and her fellow searchers returned to the village, and the first thing she did was seek out her father, asking anxiously, “So, what happened? What did he say? Tell me, please, Papa.”

“There's nothing to tell, Annie,” he responded after taking a moment to study her face and consider her anxious excitement. “We put him in the quarantine hut. That's it.”

Annie was disappointed, to say the least. She'd hoped to learn something about the stranger, anything. She gave her report about what they'd found up the beach – gruesome details included – and answered any questions her father asked; the one he asked repeatedly in different ways was, of course, whether or not she had touched anything foreign, to which she had repeatedly answered no.

“What is it about this man that has you so uneasy…?” he asked before then adding, “... excited?”

Annie felt a blush fill her cheeks before she defensively said, “Nothing! I'm … I'm not excited! I'm … curious!”

“Strangers have come to our village before, Annie,” he reminded her.

“Not like this!” she pointed out. “The others … they always arrived with someone we knew … someone from a Trading Village … someone we trusted. This man…”

After a moment of his daughter not completing her sentence, he asked, “What about this man?”

Again, there was silence for a long moment before Annie answered, “I dunno.” She hopped up, saying, “I have chores to do before dark.”

She was moving for the door as her father said sternly, “Stay away from the quarantine hut, Annie. You understand what happens if he is sick and–”

“I understand, Papa,” she cut him off, smiling. “I'll stay away.”

And she did, too – barely! After her chores and dinner, Annie went to sit with those tasked with watching over the stranger. There were three people stationed separately about 30 feet from the quarantine hut such that each could see the other two at the little campfires keeping them warm and the night illuminated.

They were supposed to keep quiet once night fell to allow the other villagers – and the stranger – to sleep without distraction, but that wasn't what happened. They chatted with each other with muted voices and occasionally peppered each other with little pebbles, particularly when one of them threatened to drift off.

Annie sat for a while with Belle, the only female who took a turn watching over the stranger. They whispered to each other about King; Belle hadn't seen the man before he entered the hut, so Annie described him in as much detail as she could recall – which turned out to be a lot, including her opinion that after the two of them had talked a while on the beach, that Annie thought she'd seen a bulge grow in the front of King's raggedy shorts. The two young women giggled together about that, telling the other two guards to mind their own business when they wanted to know what was going on.

Annie’s father arrived after a while, telling her to get to bed. She did as told, hesitating with the desire to tell King goodnight. She kept it to herself, though, instead simply hugging her friend goodbye, kissing her father goodnight, telling the other guards they were idiots – they'd teased the girls about the handsome strangers, as boys do – then headed back to the hut she had shared with just her father since the accidental drowning of her mother three years earlier.

When her father didn't immediately return, and with her thinking firmly set upon the handsome stranger, Annie found her hands caressing themselves over her young, firm, and otherwise untouched body … over her modest breasts with their sensitive and ever-pert nipples … and down between her thighs to the warmth and wetness of her womanhood.

She'd only recently discovered the joy of masturbation, and what with the solitude of the moment and the fresh visual of these stranger in the quarantine hut, Annie took a few minutes to pleasure herself and, for the first time in her life, achieve the wondrous euphoria of orgasm. After her heart had ceased pounding and her breathing had returned to normal, she drifted off to a deep, peaceful sleep.

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

"I understand your caution," the stranger said. "I really do." He agreed to Annie's father's demands that he do as told, then -- as he was departing under Paul's escort -- he looked up to Annie, smiled, and said, "See you again soon, I hope."

Annie tried not to smile but failed. She was happy the man couldn't see her expression what with the sun to her back. Looking to Paul, though -- standing off to one side enough to not have her in silhouette -- Annie could see that that man who yearned to breed with her when she came of age did see the smile ... and didn't like it. The smile faded, but as the pair headed away up the trail, it returned again.

"Annie!" her father barked. She looked to him sharply, realizing in the back of her mind that he'd already called her at least once, possibly more. Bran told her, "I need you to go with the search team heading north."

She pointed a hand toward the trail and the departing pair of men, beginning, "But shouldn't I--?"

"No!" he cut in, adding, "You shouldn't. You should do what I told you to do."

She nodded to him reluctantly, took one last look at the handsome stranger walking up the trail, then descended from the boulder to join the team of three heading up the pebble beach to the north. Over the next five miles, they would find only scattered, infrequent debris before finally coming across three bodies in close proximity to one another.

It was a gruesome sight, not because they were dead but because they were already being fed upon by predators and scavengers: a single wolf and several crows which the canine couldn't give a moment's notice ate upon one corpse, while the other two -- a couple of dozen yards away -- were being devoured by a variety of sea birds and dozens of crabs respectively. It was a prime example of Mother Nature at work, Annie mused to herself.

"We go around them," the leader of the search team ordered. When one of the others asked about killing the wolf -- they hunted the flocks of a village with whom Annie's Clan traded -- the leader said, "No, leave it be. Maybe this will sate it for a while."

They headed up from the surf, bodies, and diners, circled around the scene, and continued onward. They found one more body half a mile later, this one being eaten exclusively by sea birds. Again they passed by at a distance and continued onward. They'd covered another five miles before they turned back; once they had to wade out into the surf up to their chests to get around a rocky outcrop, while another time they'd had to climb up and over a short, moderately steep cliff to continue onward.

Darkness had fallen by the time they'd returned to the village.

++++++++++++++++++++

Paul had called out to the other villagers before him and King to clear a path. It was an order they obeyed immediately upon seeing the stranger he was escorting at spear point. The quarantine hut was the first of the structures they neared, a good hundred yards from the rest of the village. They hadn't had to use it in over ten years, the last time that a visitor -- a friend, not a stranger -- had arrived at the village with a fever and sweats, two of the Bug's symptoms. He'd turned out to be just fine and continued to visit the village for trade even today.

"In there," Paul said, jabbing his spear in the direction of the hut. "I'll have food, water, blankets, and clothing brought to you."

Paul didn't bother to inspect the hut first, and both men leapt in surprise when -- upon King opening the door -- a raccoon leapt at them, hissing, before hurrying away, followed by her four younglings. Inside, King wouldn't find much: four walls, a reed floor, a ceiling that leaked when it rained, and a bed mat that now smelled of the camp robbers.

"As Elder Bran said, if you do as said, you will be fairly treated," Paul said after King had entered the hut. He added, "This is not punishment. This is not imprisonment. This is quarantine. We cannot chance the Bug or anything else getting to our people."

If King had nothing more to say or ask, Paul would close the door and post up on guard outside. If the stranger did have more to say, he would do his best to respond.

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

“I'm not going to hurt you,” King told Annie. “I'm not a threat.”

She wanted to believe him, but she couldn't take that chance, thus the alert on the horn. Annie had never seen a stranger from a strange land. Every person she'd ever met had been a resident of what remained of Greenland, and nearly all of them had come from no more that 200 kilometers away, barely a fifth the length of the island. Annie’s world was, to say the least, quite small.

The figure coming up behind Annie was Paul. Paul was the son of one of the Clan's most important Elders and -- because of this -- was also the leading candidate for being the first to seed Annie’s womb when she came of age. She didn't care much for him; she found him arrogant and aggressive. She certainly wasn't eager to have him between her parted thighs, thrusting hard and deep until he emptied his balls inside her.

“Did he get near you?” he asked Annie with a concerned voice upon reaching her. His meaning was actually Did he touch you? Did he infect you? Paul's concern wasn't for Annie's health really. It was for his own future, specifically as the father of Annie's first child.

“No, he didn't get near me,” Annie responded. “I don't think he's sick.”

“You don't know that!” Paul stressed. He was right, of course; the incubation period for the Bug was long, perhaps months long. It was why the virus had been so successful at spreading across the world. “He'll have to go into quarantine … or leave."

"Quarantine!" Annie said without hesitation. She saw how Paul reacted to her response and, just as quickly, covered for her excitement about the stranger with, "I mean ... Papa's going to want to question him ... before he gets sent away."

Annie's father, Bran, just happened to be the second man to arrive on the scene. He'd been down the beach hunting seals, unfortunately unsuccessfully this day. As he neared the stranger, he leveled his spear and ordered, "Don't move! Don't get close to anyone!"

“I'm not going to hurt you," King repeated. "I'm not a threat."

"Who are you? Where'd you come from?" Bran asked, slowly circling the man from a distance of no less than 10 meters. He saw no signs of infection, but like Paul had said earlier, you just couldn't know for sure until after a suitable quarantine period.

"I'm just a survivor of a shipwreck," King said. "I'd like to search for my companions.”

By now, there were almost a dozen Clansmen on the beach, watching the goings-on. Bran, who was one of the youngest Elders and well respected, ordered everyone to stay back. Then, to Paul, he said, "Take him to the quarantine hut. Post a guard. No one goes in until I say so. Get him food, water, and blankets."

"Yes, Elder," Paul said, stepping out of the path between King and the village uphill. "Let's go."

Bran told the stranger, "I will send search parties up and down the beach to look for your friends ... so long as you follow this man's instructions and don't give us any trouble. If you do ... give us trouble, I mean ... Paul has permission to put his spear through you. Do you understand? I can't take a chance that you are infected with the Bug."

He waited for King to respond. If the man agreed to the orders, Bran would gather armed villagers and do as he had promised. If the man didn't agree ... well ... he'd have to figure that out when it happened.

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

It was true that Annie was unfamiliar with the name Newfoundland. One of the things the stranger would discover about her people – if he was allowed to remain, that is – was that they had lost much of their knowledge of the world beyond their own island.

Ironically, that loss of knowledge had been intentional, not an unfortunate result of the isolation of the apocalypse. The Elders of generations gone had made the decision that their people were better off not believing there was more out there to be seen and explored.

He asked, “Can we walk the shoreline? I'd like to see if anyone else made it. I can't believe I'm the only one.”

Annie stood tall on the massive boulder above King, studied him for a moment, then pulled out a horn and blew into it several times. She told him, “You have to wait. I have to show you to others.”

Over the next couple of minutes, Clan members alerted by the specific pattern of horn blows would rush to Annie from the village hidden just beyond a curve in the cliffside to the north. They would be armed with bows and spears.

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

"English," the stranger said, expanding, "English, yes. I speak English."

Annie found his accent and manner of speaking odd and knew he wasn't from any of the villages of which she knew. He stood and looked about, adding, "My name is Craig. Craig King. People call me King."

She considered not sharing her name with the stranger but, after a long moment, said in her best English, "My name Annie."

"Where am I?" he asked, again looking about himself. "And ... where's everyone else? There were 36 of us aboard the Elizabeth. Am I the only one who made it?"

She didn't understand about what he was speaking when he spoke of something called The Elizabeth as her people didn't name their boats. She addressed the other part of his inquiry. "You are the first person to come from the sea. Did you swim here?"

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

Annie

Physical Description:

• 15 years old
• Pretty, with fair skin, freckles, and long wavy auburn hair. (Think Rose Leslie/Ygritte of GOT.)
• Well curved with a modest bosom and wide hips, perfect for breeding (which will have to wait until she comes of age).

Personality:

• Bold, courageous.
• Flirtatious.
• Intelligent and knowledgeable.
• Loyal and faithful to her family and her Clan.
• She takes after her Papa, a hunter, more than she does her mother; her sisters are more domestic in nature, while she prefers to be running around with a bow or spear in her hands.

Her Family and Clan

• She is the middle child of 5, as well as the middle aged of 3 girls.
• Her clan has 30+ members.
• Her village -- located at the yellow dot on the southeast coast -- lives off fishing and hunting, as well as trading with other Clans on the shores to the north and south or inland through the pass in the mountains.
• The village is led by a Chief who is elected by secret ballot -- colored pebbles dropped into a bowl and afterward counted. The current Chief happens to be the village's eldest male, not that that has anything to do with who is in power. This Chief -- very well respected -- has been in place for over two decades, since the last Chief -- his uncle -- died from a fall.

Her personal history:

• She was trained to hunt and participates as such almost daily.
• Being beautiful and of the appropriate body style, she had been receiving offers of breeding since she entered puberty, even before (though her father said nothing to her about those offers).

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

"Aftermath"

A post-apocalyptic tale.

Closed

In the future, a virus known as the Pox has nearly wiped out Human life. Additionally, global warming -- which had only gotten worse through the 21st century -- has left the locale of our story, Greenland, free of ice and snow and now partially covered in grasslands and maturing forests.

One morning, a girl, Annie, 15, discovers a castaway from a ship destroyed by a storm on the shore below her village. He is taken in by the village, following a period of quarantine on the chance that he is infected with any of a number of infectious diseases that have returned to plague Humanity.

King, 42, is a wanderer, moving from place to place every few years. He joined the crew of a slave transport ship specifically to mutiny and hijack the vessel. The intention was to sail to the English Isles where they hoped to find freedom for all.

Instead, the ship was ripped apart by a fierce storm, sinking with many or most of its passengers. Initially, it was thought that King might be the only survivor; several bodies were found in the days following King's arrival but no other living survivors were.

Days later, it was discovered that a female survivor was in the hands of slavers, who had tried to sell her to a nearby village. Four people – King, Annie, Bran (Annie’s father), and Paul (who has an intimate interest in Annie) – took to the water in small sailboats to rescue her.

And that's our story thus far...

"Aftermath" (closed, but feel free to read along)

"Aftermath"

A post-apocalyptic tale.

Closed

Annie sat atop a huge boulder looking down upon the man lying unconscious on the beach of sea-worn pebbles, cradling her bow across her knees. She'd discovered him quite some time ago but hadn't approached him. There hadn't been a case of Pox amongst her people in more than a generation, but some of the Elders believed it was still out there, ready to spring forth at any time and finish off what remained of the People.

The man eventually stirred, struggled into a sitting position, and surveyed his surroundings. There wasn't much to sea, really: to the southeast was the open water of the bay, today relatively smooth, while in other directions he would find nothing but rocky cliffs rising from the sea, their faces alive with millions of birds in the midst of nesting season.

(OOC: They are at the yellow dot on the southeast shore of a now ice-free Greenland.)

Finally, the man looked up and to his left and caught sight of Annie atop her rock. Even at a distance of almost 10 meters, she could tell that his eyes were taking a walk over her from head to toe and back up again. Annie had, of course, taken a long moment to look the stranger up and down, too. He was practically naked, lacking shirt or shoes and wearing short pants of a fabric Annie didn't recognize.

She'd noted during her time of studying him that he was a handsome and very fit man, what Mama would call an exciting example of perfection. Her Papa would have similar commentary on the man, likely suggesting that he was just the right man to father Annie's first children when she eventually reached the Clan's breeding age in eight months.

For her part, Annie had been described as an exciting example of perfection, too. She was cute in the face, tall -- for a woman -- and curvy in the body with well-proportioned hips perfect for childbearing. Her father had already entertained breeding offers for Annie from men of both their village and two neighboring ones, but as she was only 15, those deals would have to wait.

"Hej," Annie said, smiling down to the man. When he didn't respond, she asked, "Forstår du mig?" He didn't respond to her question of whether or not he understood her. "Dansk...?" She switched from Danish to Islandic: "Íslenska...?"

Still, no response. Annie began to wonder if it was something other than a language barrier. Looking to her bow, which had a notched arrow in it, even if it wasn't pointed at the man, she wondered if perhaps that wasn't the issue. She returned the arrow to the quiver over her shoulder, then asked and quickly corrected in yet another of her known languages, "Engelsk...? English?"

Int. Chk: "Pulse", an apocalypse story

When will it be starting?

@Atlas Shark

I'm sorry, I meant to respond to your question and forgot. We had already started, and -- another mistake on my part -- I forgot to put the link to the thread in this thread.

Doesn't much matter, though. We (meaning me and KingOfNowhere) decided to go with a different concept. He's been on vacation but is back, so I'm going to post the IntChk for the new idea this afternoon, in case anyone is interested.

"Pulse" (a story of the apocalypse)

Kimberly Jones -- Organic Farmer, east of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
(continues from here.)

The past 3 days had been the scariest of Kimmie's life: the Pulse had destroyed anything and everything that worked off electricity, meaning no truck, no cell, no lights, no furnace. It was getting cold at night, and the only thing keeping Kimmie warm was the wood stove in the kitchen and fireplace in the living room, both of which she'd kept burning since.

The airliner crash at the property line had been a total disaster with no survivors. People had come from every direction in response to the fireball, authorities and civilians both. Kimmie wasn't sure what she'd expected: an investigation or simply the removal of the bodies? Neither happened, though. Yellow tape was put up around the site, everyone left before nightfall, and no one had returned. Had this been the same at the two-dozen other plane crashes Kimmie had seen within a minute or so in every direction of her farm?

Twelve hands had been on the farm when this all began: three year-round residential hands; three seasonal workers from nearby Monroeville; and six from WWOOF, World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farmers, two from Washington DC and four from France. The residential hands had initially remained, while the seasonals had left for their own homes. The WWOOF members from DC had also left, while their French counterparts -- with no way to travel -- had remained behind.

Ignoring the whole end of the world part, things had initially been pretty calm on the farm. The mayhem seeming to be taking place in all directions stayed at a distance. Then, the second night, armed men showed up, trying to force their way into the house. Kimmie was no stranger to guns and wasn't about to let thugs take what was hers.

She blew one of them away with a shotgun blast to his chest, causing the other four or five of them to scatter into the darkness. Out at the cabins, one of Kimmie's men -- a former Army Sergeant with experience in Northeast Syria -- had also opened fire using the Beretta pistol he'd kept hidden away. He put bullet holes through three more men before the shooting ended.

The next morning, when they got a chance to survey the damage, they would find two dead bodies on the property and -- at the end of a blood trail -- one out by the perimeter fence line. They would count more than 100 bullet holes in the exteriors of the home and cabins, with most of the windows blown out as well.

There was an exodus from the farm that morning. One of the three residential hands packed his stuff and hurried away. The Frenchies -- despite having no way of getting back to their home country -- also packed and left. They said they would head north, toward Quebec, where one of them had relatives who would take them in until they could find a way back to Paris. Kimmie doubted very much that they would make it to Quebec, let alone France, but she wished them well.

With just three of them left -- Kimmie, her ex-Army man Cliff Reed, and her food preservation guru, Stella Abrams -- they went to work boarding up the buildings and planning security measures for future attacks. They put up signs warning in English and Spanish, Trespassers will be shot first and questioned later. Trip wires were run all about the property, hooked up to noise makers that, hopefully, would alert them to anyone coming close to the buildings.

They hadn't experienced any more attacks after that. They'd seen strangers coming up the gravel road toward the farm on three occasions, but a shot into the sky had caused them to quickly turn and hurry away. After that, they left one person watching the property's sole entry road while the other two worked. Kimmie and Cliff split the work harvesting by hand, while Stella concentrated on preserving what they delivered to her.

Yesterday morning brought them some good news for a change. Initially, as they saw more than a dozen people heading up the drive, it looked like there was going to be more trouble. They were carrying a white flag, and after Kimmie allowed them to get closer, she began recognizing faces. Two of them were the seasonal workers who'd left after the shooting, and two others were their family members, people who'd visited the farm on occasion.

Kimmie went to the gate, met them, and learned they were looking for a safe place to stay. She welcomed them in with the understanding that one and all -- even the children -- had to earn their keep through work. There was no argument, only appreciation. Since then, then adults had split their time between harvesting, planting, and protecting the property and its residents, while the children split their time between tending to the stock animals, various easier chores, and continuing their education, seeing how the school year had just begun.