Status: Life is happening right now, but I will try to post.
Theophany
Chapter 1: RAIN
Rain was six when the last bomb fell, effectively eradicating her childhood along with the world of relative comfort that she knew. Now, as part of the Blood Raiders, a small gang on the outskirts of Neo Mesa, life could not be more different. In this desert wasteland, you slept with one eye open and one hand on a gun. Tonight though, her team needed to scavenge the irradiated city for anything useful. For this, you needed attention to detail, a strong stomach, be light on your feet and a rad mask. Along with two others, she was ideal for the tedious job.
“Ayy, you ready?” Scope, a scrawny, quick-witted, pre-teen asked, “Sun's down. We should go now.” He was young, but he was also the most accurate shot in the whole gang.
The three Blood Raider members: Rain, Scope and the crazy team leader Loon, were hidden behind a sand dune. The two motorcycles they had ridden to the edge of the city were camouflaged with sand colored tarp, making it hard to spot unless you were about 50 meters away.
“Rain, we movin' to that highway. Seems to be a pile up of cars. Look for anythin' … juicy inside,” Loon directed, as he licked his lips and looked at her. He reminded Rain of a snake. A slithery, dirty, perverted snake. But dangit, he was sharp. “Watch for them damn nighties. Scope, you stay hidden and watch us. Shoot anythin' bad comin' at us. Don't miss. Let's go.”
At a silent run, they got to the abandoned highway and started looking for anything useful both inside, outside the cars, and around the wreckage. After some time spent in silence, the satchel beside her was halfway full of metal pieces, old paper, a couple packets of cigs, and other things.
As Rain scooted under a truck, her deft hands already feeling for anything she could dismantle, a loud gun shot was heard. Cursing silently, she could only hope that brat hit whatever it was. Hopefully, not a nighty, since they don't travel alone. One hand on her gun, she slid out from under the truck and another gun shot fired. This time, closer. The inhuman scream from a humanoid form rose from a pile of blood spattered flesh. Scope, you brat, you missed it's head. Instead of a quick kill, the nighty would attract as much attention as it could before its death.
She immediately started sprinting in Scope's direction, shooting the nighty silent as she passed, an eye out for other threats. Loon was already jumping over to Scope's area. Angry shrieks could be heard from behind her, as the rest of the disfigured creatures discovered their dead. From what she heard, three more nighties had shown up. She could already see Scope and Loon's silhouettes silently disappearing into the shadows. They would not help her, but leave to save themselves, as was the rule of this forsaken wasteland. If there was a threat to your safety by helping someone, then you save yourself. No room for heroes. A rule she had often exercised in the past, leaving comrades to die, but now, with the uneven gait of nighties behind her, she realized that she hated that rule.
She slid over the hood of a car, turned and fired, fully aware that she only had six bullets left in that hand gun. The first couple shots hit their mark, felling a lithe nighty that was jumping on car hoods towards her, about 10 feet away. The other one was humanoid, with proportional limbs. But as it hissed, its jaw unhinged to reveal the grin of razor sharp teeth with bits of rotten flesh dangling from them. “Oh you ugly son of a bitch,” she breathed, as she fired at the nighty whose wounds didn't seem to slow him down. “Die!” she cried desperately, as she emptied her clip. After two shots to the head, the nighty finally crumpled, collapsing on the very hood of the car she was making her stand on.
A creak of metal behind her suddenly let her know several things. The third nighty had flanked her, she had no bullets left, and it was very very close. Turning slowly, the inhuman scream rose from a disfigured form's gaping mouth. She could smell the rot of it, as it made her ears ring. This is it, then. What a horrible death, she thought.
“Ayy, you ready?” Scope, a scrawny, quick-witted, pre-teen asked, “Sun's down. We should go now.” He was young, but he was also the most accurate shot in the whole gang.
The three Blood Raider members: Rain, Scope and the crazy team leader Loon, were hidden behind a sand dune. The two motorcycles they had ridden to the edge of the city were camouflaged with sand colored tarp, making it hard to spot unless you were about 50 meters away.
“Rain, we movin' to that highway. Seems to be a pile up of cars. Look for anythin' … juicy inside,” Loon directed, as he licked his lips and looked at her. He reminded Rain of a snake. A slithery, dirty, perverted snake. But dangit, he was sharp. “Watch for them damn nighties. Scope, you stay hidden and watch us. Shoot anythin' bad comin' at us. Don't miss. Let's go.”
At a silent run, they got to the abandoned highway and started looking for anything useful both inside, outside the cars, and around the wreckage. After some time spent in silence, the satchel beside her was halfway full of metal pieces, old paper, a couple packets of cigs, and other things.
As Rain scooted under a truck, her deft hands already feeling for anything she could dismantle, a loud gun shot was heard. Cursing silently, she could only hope that brat hit whatever it was. Hopefully, not a nighty, since they don't travel alone. One hand on her gun, she slid out from under the truck and another gun shot fired. This time, closer. The inhuman scream from a humanoid form rose from a pile of blood spattered flesh. Scope, you brat, you missed it's head. Instead of a quick kill, the nighty would attract as much attention as it could before its death.
She immediately started sprinting in Scope's direction, shooting the nighty silent as she passed, an eye out for other threats. Loon was already jumping over to Scope's area. Angry shrieks could be heard from behind her, as the rest of the disfigured creatures discovered their dead. From what she heard, three more nighties had shown up. She could already see Scope and Loon's silhouettes silently disappearing into the shadows. They would not help her, but leave to save themselves, as was the rule of this forsaken wasteland. If there was a threat to your safety by helping someone, then you save yourself. No room for heroes. A rule she had often exercised in the past, leaving comrades to die, but now, with the uneven gait of nighties behind her, she realized that she hated that rule.
She slid over the hood of a car, turned and fired, fully aware that she only had six bullets left in that hand gun. The first couple shots hit their mark, felling a lithe nighty that was jumping on car hoods towards her, about 10 feet away. The other one was humanoid, with proportional limbs. But as it hissed, its jaw unhinged to reveal the grin of razor sharp teeth with bits of rotten flesh dangling from them. “Oh you ugly son of a bitch,” she breathed, as she fired at the nighty whose wounds didn't seem to slow him down. “Die!” she cried desperately, as she emptied her clip. After two shots to the head, the nighty finally crumpled, collapsing on the very hood of the car she was making her stand on.
A creak of metal behind her suddenly let her know several things. The third nighty had flanked her, she had no bullets left, and it was very very close. Turning slowly, the inhuman scream rose from a disfigured form's gaping mouth. She could smell the rot of it, as it made her ears ring. This is it, then. What a horrible death, she thought.