RULE #24

Death is everywhere. Accept it and move on.

~ The Scavenger’s Handbook

The light slowly fades as thick dark clouds blanket the horizon. Soon it would be too dark to make out the surrounding buildings, despite it being only noon. But that was how the local weather patterns worked in the Sectors. Sure, there was some consistency when it came to seasons, with temperatures fluctuating from freezing to scorching hot, but overall, it all depended on nature’s whims. Thunderstorms, flash blizzards, and deadly cold snaps could occur at any given time, without warning and without mercy. On the other hand, one could tell when to expect pyroclastic clouds and inferno waves based on the severity and noise of the earthquakes which shook the mega-city’s very bones. Or listen for the telling shriek of a coming gale, which was a hard thing to miss with the lack of natural wind under the domes covering the Sectors.

As a result, Grey wasn’t surprised by the sudden change in the weather for the worst, rather, he was frustrated that it happened now. Well, a small part of him was also glad, because he could use the coming storm as a good excuse for taking a long wrest. Not that the remaining tourists needed much convincing. Although almost unhurt, the brats were clearly in shock from witnessing their friends die in such a horrible way. It could also be because this was the first time they were in an actual firefight with other people. Either way, the cause made little difference to Grey, it was the end result that was important.

One out of ten people would seclude themselves in their minds for weeks, before returning back to one of the communities and forgetting all about becoming Scavengers. Two out of ten would deal with the trauma by drinking or abusing some of the meds they found, and accept that this was how life was out in the ruins. Usually, those ended up dead within a year or two. As for the others, they dealt with it in time. However, there was a rare occasion when, a person would develop, what Grey referred to as unhealthy habits, after experiencing such mental trauma. In reality, such people would become rabid monsters that should be put down as soon as possible. In reality, no one really cared and simply shrugged with the universal excuse that those who couldn’t accept death as part of everyday life should’ve never become Scavengers in the first place. The only reason Grey was interested in the topic was because of Cake.

He run his fingers through her hair while she gently dozed in his lap. She looked so innocent, almost like the little girl he had found in Sector 15. It made him wonder when was the last time the two of them had spent some time like this. Not fighting, not arguing, just enjoying the moment and taking in the tranquillity of the ruined mega-city. A deceptive tranquillity it might be, but it was the best they could hope for out here. Grey thought to himself that this moment would be perfect if not for the trio of restless Axion brats roaming the improvised shelter. Calling the stripped shop, a shelter was pushing a little too far, even by Scavenger standards. At the very least it would protect them from the coming rain and more importantly from curious eyes.

It was only a matter of time for this moment of peace to end. Grey hoped that it could last a few more minutes. Actually, he had hoped that the conversation with Joshua would’ve happened before they reached the shelter. Sadly, the pretend-soldier was too stunned to string more than two words together. That was apparently no longer the case considering the youth was glaring at the experienced Scavenger with murder in his eyes. Gently, he removed Cake’s head from his lap and stood up. With a grunt, he shook off the stiffness in his shoulders and winced at the irritating pain which blossomed when he flexed his right wrist. Thankfully it was only because of the wound the shrimp-hound left and not something else, despite that, he would be taking a course of antibiotics every night just to be sure that there would be no chance for an infection to set in.

“You get one free hit because Oats was my problem,” Grey stated flatly as he stood in front of the young man.

Like it or not, he had to accept some responsibility for the situation that had unfolded. The thing was, that he wasn’t delusional to think that things would have played any different if he wasn’t around. Either way, Oats would’ve hunted the tourists. Grey might have known him only briefly, but it was enough to comprehend what kind of a man the old bastard was. A self-serving, greedy, amoral murderous ass, if he wanted to put it lightly.

“Is that all you have to say?” Joshua hissed through clenched teeth.

“It’s more than most folks would offer down here,” Grey shrugged while keeping a close eye on the kid’s movements. He was very doubtful that the Axion brat would actually take a swing at him, however, if he did, it wouldn’t be the one.

“Those people were after you! Etien, Mesut and Olivia are dead because of you!” The Master Sergeant stepped closer squaring his shoulder. “Not only that, but we are behind schedule because of you…”

“You and the others are alive because of me and Cake,” Grey cut him off without raising his voice. The way he saw it, meeting Oats out here wasn’t something he had even dreamed of, let alone something he could’ve predicted. “It doesn’t matter if I knew the people who attacked us or not. Crossing during the day meant that we would’ve been ambushed sooner or later. And if you so much as utter the word crashed transport, I’ll beat you senseless.”

This caught Joshua off-guard as it most likely disrupted the entire speech he must have created and rehearsed in his head. There was one more thing that really bothered Grey. Clearly, the tourists were trained to be Axion’s enforcers or soldiers or whatever term they used in that damned floating city. Despite that, their actions, and more importantly reactions, were all over the place. Overconfidence and underestimating the ruins was something the experienced Scavenger attributed to them being infuriatingly stupid. But after facing the skins and surviving the shrimp-hounds in the tunnels, they should’ve wised up. Instead, Joshua and the others were behaving more erratic than before. They were ignoring basic survival rules, worse, they were ignoring their own training by the looks of it. Not that he could say that with any certainty, as much as note the difference from when they left Véi Dron and the precent moment.

Actually, now that he had some time to think it over, Grey found it odd that Joshua wasn’t in a complete mental break.

“How many times did I warn you that the ruins are dangerous? And how many times did you listen to me?” The Scavenger took the initiative, seeing that the brat was still struggling to form words. “Tell me, Master Sergeant, what are you angrier about? Losing your friends, or being late?”

It was an unfair question. Grey realised it as soon as the words left his mouth. Sure, it was what he wanted to learn, but there were better ways going around asking such a thing. Still, it was too late to turn back, so he accepted that he would have to add another thing to eventually apologize for if Joshua survived the journey.

“Our lives are expandable,” the youth stated bluntly and without hesitation and Grey could see the boy’s training kick in into gear.

The Master Sergeant stood at attention and fixed his eyes on the distance just above the Scavenger’s head. The very picture of a proper parody of a soldier. Clearly, the young man had memorised the expression without actually understanding its meaning, otherwise, he wouldn’t have made such a simple mistake.

This was pretty much what the middle-aged man expected. Sadly, it didn’t answer his question in any meaningful way. All the statement did was reinforce Grey’s conviction that the sooner he was rid of Axion’s pretend-soldiers, the better. At the very least there were fewer of them now, which made the three survivors a lot more manageable.

“One way or another, you will take us to Sector 7 on time.” At that Joshua placed his finger on the trigger of his rifle.

That alone would have been the end of the conversation. There was one slight problem the youth hadn’t realised yet – the weapon wasn’t charging. From where he stood, Grey could see the power indicator remain dormant. He had spent enough time observing the teens to have caught on to what the different lamps and flashing LED lights meant. Emboldened by this, or because he was done playing babysitter, the Scavenger made up his mind and leaned closer, close enough to be able to press the filter of his gas mask, against Joshua’s nose. A broad grin split his face as he half-growled, half-whispered.

“Expendable, are you? So be it.” Grey then looked at the other two idiots who were pretending not to be interested in their little exchange. “Eat and get some rest. We’ll be running all night.”

If all the obnoxious tourists were concerned with was reaching their destination on time, he wasn’t going to go easy on them. Not anymore. So far, the veteran Scavenger had chosen their route, so that it would be more easy to traverse while being a relatively safe one. Crossing the Mall’s area was always going to be the most dangerous part and there was no going around it, not while working such a tight schedule. Actually, what Grey had in mind was a concern for him since accepting the request – he had to make a choice. There were several paths which lead to number 7, with most being too long and too out of the way, only two viable options remained. Follow the streets or go under them. If he was alone, Grey knew which one he would take, either of those was a terrible idea and both were routes he would only take if in a hurry. The problem with going through the mega-city’s expansive subway system was that there was no telling what could happen. It was in this strange limbo of being both safe and extremely hazardous at the same time. However, if a person wished to cross long distances fast, it was the only available option. Well, as long as they didn’t go deeper than the third layer of crisscrossing tunnels, they should be able to exit with all limbs still attached.

Although Grey disliked to admit it, he loved exploring the seemingly endless network of tunnels, subterranean highways and walkways. Mostly because few, even among the Scavenger, dared to spend too much time underground, and for a good reason. Boiled down, the risk wasn’t worth it. Sure, there were plenty of meds, food and surprisingly clean water to be found, and it got better the deeper he dared to go, but there were things there that made his blood turn to ice. If not for the education Ash and Neige had insisted on beating into his head, Grey would be inclined to believe that the subway system was haunted by the angry ghosts of the dead. Actually, spirits and ghouls would be preferable to the truth. Sure, the knowledge his parents were so adamant about passing on to their only child had saved his life more times than he could count, however, it made the world a truly terrifying place.

“Perhaps that’s why I’ve been so reluctant to be a father to you,” Grey whispered as he sat next to Cake, erasing the Axion brats’ presence from his mind.

It made sense, now that he thought about it. Of course, he had tried to teach her as much as he could about surviving without going into as much detail as his parents. In his own way, Grey wished for her to have the childhood he never got to enjoy. Alas, as time had proven it, this wasn’t meant to be. A part of him had known from the very moment he found the little girl, that she would never find joy in life amongst normal people. And because of him, Cake could never go back to whatever existence mutants had to offer. He was reluctant to call it society, despite the fact that Grey knew of at least three mutant settlements which co-existed alongside humans. Well, in all honesty, that was stretching the term a bit, but it didn’t change the strenuous relationship those communities shared all that much.

“You could stay here with us. With me. Not only you, the little sweetheart too.” Milk’s voice echoed in his mind, and Grey closed his eyes in an attempt to push back the bittersweet memory. Regardless, it didn’t want to comply, bringing with it the feeling of the pretty girl’s arms wrapping around his neck and shoulder as she whispered temptations in his ear. He could see her golden hair with a hint of red, brush against his face, while Milk purred in his lap. The mischief in her bright almond eyes while she gave him one of her coy smiles, knowing very well how uncomfortable it made him feel. And Grey tightened his jaw, at how the sun reflected from that one chipped tooth, that Copper had fixed with a pinch of melted aluminium. His heart skipped a beat at the memory of the large blue and yellow bruise Oats had left on the left side of her chin, for some stupid reason.

The hardened veteran of the ruins grabbed at the edges of his gas mask ready to tear the damn thing off if it would mean that the apparition would leave him alone. It never would, that much he was certain. That image of beauty, which his foolish younger self had found too intimidating, shifted into one of immense hurt and pain, as he remembered Milk’s face when he told her that he was taking Cake and leaving. She had begged him then and there. Clawed at his leg as she grovelled on the cold snow-covered ground trying to stop him. The tears streaming from her eyes, burning his soul worse than fire, when he had wiped them with his shaking hands.

She had hurt him too, though Grey had never told her. Not that she meant to, it was a result of her honesty. From the moment they first met, Milk had stated that she was seeing Three-Scars and then she dared to admit that she also had feelings for Grey. In the end, she had tried to use this too to make him stay. That she would love him and him alone. That Grey shouldn’t need to fear Three-Scars, because the Scavenger was the one who had stolen her heart. A laughable suggestion, considering Grey had killed more people in the few months he had spent with Milk, than the entire Carnival of Rust combined. Not even for a moment had he thought the man scary, despite Three-Scars being twice as large as him back then. And yet, he had found that charming skinny bundle of joy and energy terrifying.

It tore his heart to shreds to push Milk away, to hear her curse the day she met him. The memory of her crying face was torturing him in a similar way now. Actually, the pain and suffering Grey was feeling at this very moment were much worse, knowing that Milk was dead. He should’ve insisted that she came with him, a thought his youthful mind had considered idiotic because of the dangers they… she would have to face. As if bringing a somewhat experienced Scavenger along was that more foolish than dragging along a naïve little girl such as Cake.

This revelation had broken Grey mentally for weeks. But by the time it had come, it had been too late to turn back. He had met Barracuda and Cantina at that point and they were feverishly building Véi Dron into a proper Safe Zone. With that came other regrets and images Grey wished he could erase. And despite his memory taking him on a tour through some of the most tormenting moments of his life, Milk’s sorrowful expression remained in his mind. Her once smiling eyes, looked at him with accusation and sadness.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered as his hands pulled at the back of his head. His voice barely a whisper came out no different than a child’s sob.

Something warm coiled around him and spoke softly in his ear. “It’s not your fault.” It took Grey a moment to realise that Cake had woken up and was trying to comfort him.

“I should’ve been more careful…”

“No, you did fine, Cake,” Grey cut her off and ruffled her hair earning himself a pout.

“Don’t do that!” She moved away and winced when she put her weight on her injured arm. “Ouch! Son of a b…”

“This time, I’ll allow it,” he smiled behind his gas mask and took hold of her by wrapping his right arm around her waist. “Do you know where we are? Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeh, yeh, yeh. Sheesh! I just bumped my head, no need to treat me like a child,” she pouted again while moving closer to him.

“You suffered a concussion, sweety,” Grey shook his head and pushed her away. “Those can be really dangerous, remember?”

Grabbing her by the chin with his left arm, he proceeded to lift her eyelids one at a time with his right. Usually, with any normal person, he would be looking for pupil dilation or anything that might indicate something wrong. However, looking at her mutant eyes so close, made Grey’s skin crawl and it took all of his restraint not to turn his head to the side. He had to force himself to look into each black pit, examining the white irises and trying to guess if the thin orange lines, which passed for pupils were any different.

“I’m fine. Just have a bitch of a headache,” the teenage girl tried to push away, but he held her chin firmly.

“Hold still. Try following my finger with your eyes.”

Slowly, he moved the index finger of his right hand left and right. The white circles shifted ever so slightly inside the abyss black sclera. This was getting him nowhere since he hadn’t the faintest idea if that was normal or not. He really should’ve taken Missy’s offer to go over Cake’s file when he was at Véi Dron.

“Your hand’s trembling,” his adopted doughter chewed the words out while trying to keep her jaw from moving too much. Her expression turned from slightly annoyed to sullen as she did so.

“That’s because it hurts from the shrimp-hound’s bite,” Grey lied without giving it a second thought. “I’m going to do the light test, please try to keep your eyes open.”

“I’m talking about the left one,” Cake insisted, her face becoming an emotionless void. “Last time you looked this long at my eyes, you didn’t talk to me for four days.”

Aiming the LED flashlight at her eyes proved to be a waste of time. All it confirmed was that they didn’t behave as those of a normal person. Instead of the pupils reacting, it was her irises that contracted and not in a way Grey had expected. Expanding when the light was on and shrinking when it was off. He was clueless about what to make of it, but it gave him a few seconds to come up with a plausible excuse.

“It was because you were behaving like a brat, not because of your eyes,” he stated flatly as he returned the flashlight to the left lower pocket of his cargo pants. “Anyway, you appear to be fine,” he lied once more making a mental note to keep a close eye on her in the next few hours.

“No shit! I told you, I was fine.”

“Okay, new rule,” he forcefully pushed her chin away and jabbed his right index finger in her chest. “From now on, every time you swear or curse, I’ll slap you. Am I clear?”

“Fine. Yes. I’ll try to watch my language. Jeez!” Cake tried to cross her arms over her chest, only to hiss in pain as she hit her injured arm with her right one.

“Good. You can put your glasses back on now,” he added softly, fixing her t-shirt before her shoulder slipped out of it.

“Uhm… About that…” Cake lowered her head, avoiding looking at him, the way she usually did when she had done something wrong. “That is… I lost them… But it’s not my fault! I had them, but then the building… exploded and all that and…”

“I get it,” he stopped her before she could make even less sense by trying to feel guilty about losing the sunglasses.

“No! I should go back and search for them! You gave them to me and told me to take care of them…”

He placed his fingers on her lips. “Don’t worry, we’ll find you new ones. Besides, those old things were meant for kids and were getting too small for you.”

“Movement! Seven o’clock!” The extra in the trio of tourists exclaimed, putting an end to their conversation.

“Hide!” Grey hissed while thinking to himself that he really should try to learn the kid’s name, now that there were only three of them.

Without wasting time, or making a sound, Cake dropped to the ground and began to crawl towards the far wall. The Scavenger was glad to see that the pretend-soldiers followed his command, hugging the broken outer wall with backs pressed against it tightly. Crouching and using his left for support, Grey half-jumped, half hobbled towards them, laying on the cement floor of the shop when he was close enough to take a peek through the gaps where the windows should’ve been.

“Mutant horde?” Maité whispered unsure of herself.

"Are those... Zombies?!" The extra tried to keep his shaking voice low, hoping that by doing so, it would hide the horror in that single word.

"Shut your mouth, kid! We do not use that word in these here parts. The correct term is former people. Not zombies and definitely not mutants." Cake snapped at them while backing away from the wall.

"What?" All three tourists exclaimed in unison.

"You heard her, now get behind that wall and keep quiet," Grey growled at them, observing the shambling mass of decrepit bodies, before adding quietly. "But yes, they’re fucking zombies."

Technically, that wasn’t true. Just as it was false to call them mutants. He didn’t have the time to explain to them that the Lime Worm didn’t kill its hosts. On the contrary, the bight-green parasite made sure that they would remain alive for as long as possible while it searched for a proper toxic pond in which it could lay its larvae. As a result, those infected by it could sustain injuries that would kill a person, shrug off missing limbs and survives in otherwise poisonous environments for an extended period of time. Overall, it was considered one of the more horrible ways to die. There was just one slight issue. The Lime Worm lived in the deeper levels of the subway.

Judging the direction, the horde was slowly advancing from, it was safe to assume that they had come from one of the gargantuan Malls across the massive parking. Most likely some idiots had thought it a good idea to poke inside the sealed-off tunnels and stations under the Malls. Bringing contaminated water to whichever community had the bright idea to settle inside those death traps. It was the only way to explain why there were a hundred or so people making up the entirety of the horde. Grey didn’t need to be clairvoyant to guess where they were headed, and that was the more pressing problem since the nearest metro station was his destination as well. Usually, those poor souls were docile and quite slow, making it easy to avoid them, however, if the Worms inside them felt threatened or if the host was starving, they would become very aggressive and very, very fast. And Grey didn’t fancy his chances of survival inside the confined tunnels with so many infected hosts shambling in front of him.

“Change of plans,” he kept his voice low as he looked back at the opened ration packs in the middle of the room. “Forget the food. We’re moving out. Now!”