Book 1: Ch 4

I woke up groggily just as the first rays of the sun had just peeked over the horizon, my eyes felt gritty, my body felt sore, my bladder so full I think it could just burst from the pressure, and on top of all that, I never felt so hungry. I stretched, or at least tried my best inside the cabin of Nick’s truck. I checked out Nick on the driver’s seat and saw that he is still out cold and wrapped in a space blanket like a burrito, the bandage on the top of his shoulder had a little red spot of blood that managed to seep out, but that’s just normal for such a wound. The problem is having it getting infected.

I dropped my hand and it instinctually found its way to my weapon, a perfect marriage of steel and polymer, designed for maximum accuracy without sacrificing much of its reliability. Its matte black finish topped with a high powered scope and the night vision device made it look sexier as it leaned there on the backseat. Like a big cat sitting atop a rock content on just having to warm itself by the sun.

I got out and noticed a tarp, laid on the right side of the truck, I guess to cover up the broken windows of the tuck and not waste the heat inside. I guess Ron did that sometime during last night, thank god for good friends huh?

The three bodies were still scattered around near Ron’s truck and Nick’s was surrounded with the wolves’ of last night. I could see some smoke on the other side of Ron’s truck and found him there cooking up a batch of bacon and reconstituted eggs. “Good morning” I greeted “did you know you have three dead bodies on the other side of this truck?”

“Well I hope they aren’t as hungry as I am because we might have to kill them a second time if they do, I don’t have enough bacon and eggs to go around.” He said, not bothering to take his eyes off the pan and the brown strips of delicious meat sizzling within. He had his rifle leaning up against the front tire of his truck, well within his reach, it had a suppressor attached to his Scar-17 extending its already long barrel another six inches, along with a top dollar scope and the Gen 4 night vision device attached on the top rail and a bipod attached on the front end. All in all, it looked like a space gun, ready to shoot lasers.

“What do you think we should do now?” I asked as I sat down on one of the prepared canvass chairs.

Ron didn’t look up from what he was doing, as if he didn’t hear the question, “Have you ever tried looking at the bodies?” he asked.

‘I didn’t, I never had a chance. Nor would I even want to.’ I was about to say but knew that it was more of a suggestion rather than a question. I got up and went around the truck, I never really wanted to look at the bodies, and I never really wanted to look at the results of what I’ve done. But I guess this is something I really have to see for myself and take the accountability, as I have just took another life last night, three of them actually.

The bodies were there, lying on the dirt, cold and stiff, and just on the early process of decomposition. Their weapons are still where they were dropped, and we never touched them. I stood there, gazing at the bodies and taking it all in, this is me, this is what I’ve done, I’m responsible of this. I tried looking straight at those blank stares when I finally noticed something; tusks coming out of their open mouths, short pug noses and thick forehead all around. What I thought of them wearing masks was actually their faces.

I mustered my courage and approached the bodies, taking a closer look of them. I poked around the bodies and discovered that they have natural green skin, under that are well developed muscles fit for any Olympic weightlifter. They also had weirdly shaped ears and black colored eyes. Something just screams from behind my mind that these aren’t human beings, and I’m starting to think that this small voice behind my head was right.

I went back around where Ron was and dropped on the seat in front of him, I sighed and ran my hand down my face, “I might come off as being crazy but I need to ask you this; do you think those three, the ones I shot, the ones lying on the dirt on the other side of this truck, are not human beings?”

Ron turned off the camping stove, he had already cooked more than enough food for three men. He then finally looked up at me and looked me directly in the eye, I could see the weariness in them, loneliness, and grief. He then nodded “Yes, I do think so….. Last night, I was looking at the stars when I noticed that I cannot make up anything from it; no constellations, no North Star, no satellites, no nothing.” He paused, looking at the ground he whispered “I don’t think were in planet earth anymore.”

I was stunned, I was expecting something like us discovering a family of cannibal inbred hillbillies or something, not ‘were not in earth anymore’ revelation only fitting for fiction. I guess that explains why Ron looked so… lost. Gone was the old confident Ron, the energetic Ron, the ‘I’m rich and you can go fuck yourself’ Ron.

I took a drink form one of the water bottles lying around, man I need something a lot stronger than this, preferably something that will take the edge off or at least knock me off my feet. Ron must’ve already seen this in advance as he threw a silver flask my way. I opened it up and took a swig, it was strong, and smooth, burning down as it moved down your throat and settling down at your stomach. “I guess that somehow explains the lack of cellphone signal, GPS, and the huge ass wolves.” I said, then settling down on my seat “But what I’d like to know is that, why us? If this is somehow related to chance, there are about 7 billion of us in the world, the chance of the three of us getting singled out would be miniscule, and so it had to be deliberate.”

“Or maybe were just in the wrong place in the wrong time, lighting victims don’t get hit because they lived a life of sin or some shit, it’s just that they were unlucky enough to get hit by one.”

“So we have two theories” I said “That still begs the question doesn’t it? What the fuck should we do now?”If Ron was right we being in another world, that would mean that no cops would come and take the scene, no morgue to take away the bodies, no hospital for Nick, it would mean that we are all on our own in this strange new land. And judging by the welcoming party, I’m not so excited about what it’s got in store.

“That’s the question isn’t it? Now we know how fucked up we are, what should we do now?” Ron said picking up three paper plates and put a generous amount of food in them. “For now I think we should eat first. We have a lot of problems to address and I’d like to handle them with a good breakfast, at least that will solve one of our problems, although temporarily.”

I picked one of the plates and had a bite off one the strips of bacon, the taste of it taking me away from the future problem and dragging me to the now. “Mmm, good plan.” I said then walked off, carrying two plates of food towards Nick’s truck. The smell of fresh food atop my already hungry state was heavenly. I opened the door and served the plate up so his nose would catch a whiff of the stuff, and it worked, almost like a vial of ammonia, Nick stirred from his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. “Rise and shine Nick, you aren’t dead yet so you’re going to be stuck with us for a while, whether you like it or not.”

“Mmm. Breakfast in bed, I guess all you need to do to is get shot to have good customer service around here” he said, smiling weakly.

I laid the plate on the hood, “Well, don’t expect me to feed your ass. You only got shot on one shoulder, and you got two working legs. Get yourself fed and well take you to the hospital bro.” I said, lying. It would be cruel to just drop the bomb on him just as he got woken up.

Nick slowly got out of the truck and gave an understanding smile “I don’t think there would be any hospital for me” he said, picking up one of the strips with his left hand and munching it down.

I gave Nick a sideways glance and saw that he still had his same demeanor, does he already know? “What do you mean by that?” I asked, picking up my own strip to eat.

“I mean, I’ve seen things from that drive that doesn’t make sense for any modern man.” He sighed, “Things that are only reserved for fantasy.” He looked at me, “You also saw it and I could see it in your eyes. That means you also must’ve lead yourself to the same conclusion, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I already know it.”

“Who shot you then?” Ron asked, followed by the heavy footsteps of him coming. He had his rifle slung on his shoulder and his breakfast on his hands. “We might want to know who the hell shot you and peppered you truck.” He said, laying his food on the hood. “But of course before that, breakfast.” He smiled.

After breakfast, I was replacing Nick’s bandages as he recounted the events of his night, “I would’ve never though a night could be as dark as that, I had my truck on its high beam and ran straight without seeing anything for miles, then I saw a cart on side blocking the road. I recognized is as a horse drawn cart, but who would use something like that? Its twenty-first century for Chrissakes. It was on its side, and I could see wooden barrels and crates littered on the side, some were broken and others were just looking old. It was suspicious as hell but I still had to get myself moving so I drove closer, hoping that the light would attract the attention of the carts owners. It fucking did, the forest around me them lit up with gunfire, peppering my truck. Good thing they were shit shots since I managed to stop the truck and do a reverse, making a three point turn and ran back.”

He pointed at his shoulder wound. “This here is a lucky shot as I took it on the way back, the bullet went through the back window and through me, and lodging itself on my car stereo. Talk about bad luck huh? I knew it was a flesh wound since I was still able to move my arm, so I parked up a ways and patched it up with a quick clot bandage and kept on trucking. So what about you guys?”

I told him what happened since he passed out, me patching him up and the big bad wolves, I left out some things that shouldn’t be told of course, but other than that I told him everything.

“Well I was wondering on what’s the story on those” he said, nodding toward the huge corpses. “They must’ve make a very nice rug.” Then winced, “So what do we do now? I’m not really in goodworking order so us doing something that wouldn’t involve getting shot would be nice.”

“We move, you said something about a fork down the road. Well take the other route and well see it from there, anyone got any objections?” No one did, we didn’t really have a lot of options here since it’s either that or go to a place where we know well get shot. And since were really not that eager to be, well just take the other route.

With that shitty plan and with nothing else to go wrong, we would drive our own trucks after retrieving everything that is of any value. We frisked the tree dead dudes and got around 50 rounds out of them, including knives, and some coins mainly made of copper and silver. Looks like money is still used even in here. Their rifles looked in good working order and we took them too. We even tried retrieving the steel plates we scattered on the desert but they weren’t just there, besides, I wouldn’t value them so high that I’d walk to get them.

We also ‘fixed’ the radiator leak on Nick’s truck and found no other problems except fuel and opted, with Nick’s grudging approval, that Nick would only ride his truck as far as the gas on his tank would let him as we couldn’t afford to support three trucks with the meager amount of gas we had on our jerry cans. With everything all packed and squared away, we parked our trucks facing the direction with me in front. Thinking that I should say something for the occasion; I pressed the send button on the radio “Let’s get the fuck outta here.” I declared as I shifted my gears and drove away, followed by Nick and finally, Ron.

The forest was silent as we drove through the dirt road and it gives the impression that we really are alone. Actually, it would be generous to even call the road we are traveling on a road, for it is just two lines of packed dirt running parallel with overgrown grass in between. Well, at least it should lead to somewhere right?

It did, and it was not a sight that I am sure we all wanted to see. I was coming up on a curve on the road going around an enormous tree when I saw it. I immediately slammed the brakes, almost causing Nick to hit me from behind. “Back up, back up.” I said through the radio.

We backed up a hundred yards until we came up upon a clearing to which we did a three point turn and stopped when we found a nice hiding spot around a mile away from the roadblock. I got out and so did Nick and Ron, who approached me immediately. Nick was wearing his old 5.11 pants and a new shirt along with an improvised sling to take off the weight off his shoulders. His pistol was hanging off a shoulder holster on his left side but Nick being right handed, I was dubious that he’d be able to use the thing with the wound on his shoulder.

Nick was coming right behind Ron who is wearing a set of camouflaged hunting outfit colored for the wrong season. He was carrying his SCAR-17 without the NVD but the rifle looked as sexy as ever.

“I was coming around the corner there when I saw an overturned car on the middle of the road.” I nodded to Nick “I thought you said the roadblock was on the road to the right and not on the left.” I said.

“I did.” He responded, his face deadpan telegraphing the fact that he’s not in the mood, “I also said that I traveled the road for a couple of hours where we just traveled around one. Unless we managed to loop around, which is very unlikely, this is a different spot.”

I nodded then pulled up a piece of paper and scrawled up a rough sketch of the road along with the roadblock up ahead. It was rough and ugly, but it’ll serve its purpose well enough. I passed it on to Nick who immediately caught to what it’s for and gave his own two cents. What came up is that we are caught in between two roadblocks. One is hostile, while the other is a probable.

Well shit, we might get ourselves another chance to get shot at. No words were exchanged after that, we didn’t need to, because we already know what to do. We are now in a dangerous place and we need to rise up to the occasion as to not fall victim. No one will save us here, no police, no government, no rule of law, just us and what is out there.

We all went to our trucks and came back wearing plate carrier vests with level 4 armor plate inserts designed to withstand powerful rifle calibers. Its heavy as hell, but that is the price to be paid when safety is a main concern, that and the pricetag of course. Nick was looking comfortable in his vest so I guess his wound isn’t interfering with it, he isn’t carrying his rifle though, and I am fine with that. I was carrying my AR-15 on a sling, with my pouches full of magazines. Ron was carrying the same, but is fitted with more lightweight and expensive furniture.

It was just about noon and we have some light to spare, so the three of us decided that Ron and I would scout out the roadblock up ahead while Nick would stay and watch the trucks. He has a radio with him and would holler if someone unwelcome does find the trucks. With the roles sorted out, Ron and I set out to a flanking route to the roadblock.

Authors Note: Don't forget to write your comments, thoughts, criticisms, and suggestions down below.