“She’s burning up at a fever 103,” shouted the medic, wiping Bessie’s forehead with a cold rag.

Her blond hair was draped in a bucket of water lay on the floor underneath her head on the couch. “I wish I had an ice crystal for super cooling right now,” he finished, wringing the towel

“Hey Charles, leave the medic alone and please help me explore the basement for just a second. It will save us an hour with two,” pleaded Ricky, whilst trying to load a revolver and accidently dropping a bullet that rolled away.

“Watch where you're pointing that thing dude.. You're going down there to that basement that's for sure orders,” interjected Charles, stamping his foot.

“Hey I think I’ll wait with you for the rest of the guys actually,” said Ricky, slipping a leather jacket full of skull emblems and cumbersome service medals over two revolver holsters.

“You're going down there because you can’t be trusted around any sleeping beauties like the one on the couch mate, you can’t ride a horse nether, or shoot much worth a damn with your cataracts these days. Useless extra mouth we are feeding if you ask me,” warned the knight, cracking his knuckles.

“Old, I'm only 33 years old for farc sake not useless, blah already forgot I was the one that saved everyone by shooting that crazed veteran before he could get us with his contraption,”..

“Ancient for the job, and average life expectancy is 39," said the medic.

Charles laughed. “Yeah and that was a dime a dozen even the medics saved us from being attacked by things he revived that attacked,”.

“Those things overdose on crystal and went crazy for brains vs a veteran war machine designer who tried to engineer a doomsday machine to smoke us back on the streets Pimply,” said Ricky, aiming one of his guns at the hall towards the basement.

“Look I’ll give you in that case the rocket-prepared wheelchaired was scary for a split second the first time we saw it flying at us, but that guy was too out of his mind to ever engineer something truly lethal. You shot him flying for the sun. He was going to burn up anyway without the intervention,” said Charles.

Ricky began to protest more, but it went ignored. His face lit up in disgust as he walked away down the halfway.

“I'm the guardian of the house here, that's orders,” replied the knight sitting at the nearby bar in the living room.

Charles began whistling intune confidently after changing into full armor except his helmet. He sat on a stool in front facing his stern square jaw that was soon covered by a book he had found on crystallography. Jed remained wiggling about under heavy chains near the roaring stone fireplace.

“Don’t make me use you as a punching bag prisoner,” Clarence scolded, looking up angrily to be distracted from learning.

Jed stopped resisting arrest for now.

“Man I should have retired like I planned instead of doing an extra year for money. I get no respect,” Ricky groaned, whilst creaking away the floorboards under foot.

He dreaded heading away from the warmth and light on route to the darkest coldest part of the building. The basement door moaned as it opened without any lube. He held it open peering down the creepy steps with his light. The stone steps were lined with various shelfs full of every kind of pickled thing including eggs, beats, sausages, pigs feet and snouts. The non-perishable foodstuffs floated around preserved in vinegar solutions of salt dill, garlic and sliced jalapenos.

Rick slowly crept down the basement steps groaning and complaining with every step of the journey.

In the basement the last step creaked as Ricky stepped off it. He shone his light at dusty jars, wooden barrels, and packed peanuts. He stopped in his tracks hearing something move. There was a gust of cold wind blowing down here? With no other option he crept forward; it had to have been another mouse or something.

He turned the corner around a divider as metal banging conditioned. There were ropes and rusted chains dangling all over the ceiling swaying. He stepped onto a thin covering of snow that increased in depth as he got closer to the basement bulkhead. The door was cracked open and the wind kept blowing it back and forth making noise.

“Phew,” said Ricky, whipping off his sweaty forehead.

He crept forward towards the exit to close it. It continued to bang at a steady interval while his heartbeat got faster and faster towards oblivion. He flinched too slowly to draw on the draw as something pounced from outside hugging him by wrapping around his face.

“Ahhh” cried Ricky, falling backwards from the surprise attack.

He slammed on the snow over the concrete and was momentarily stunned until he tried to breath and couldn’t anymore airway constricted. He panicked in the dark grabbing at his head until he pulled something slimy off and threw it away.

“Blagaha,” he groaned in between gasping for breaths.

“Phew,” he said, really rubbing off the sweat.

The enemy had been a plastic trash bag blowing in the wind until he got in its way smothering his face. Ricky climbed to his feat and dusted himself off. His body hurt all over, and his blood pressure was clouding his vision. He unzipped his coat, popped open holsters, and drew duel wielding weapons as he crept back towards where he had fallen for another round of action.

“I’m getting too old for this shit,” he said, climbing the first of three steps.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The wind whistled fiercely outdoors, shaking the ramshackle farmhouse above. He slowly stuck his head out to look for threats. The hot ashes of the barn and two moons cast just enough light to confirm the coast was clear.

Meanwhile others had gone out into the night to bring back enough fuel for the vehicles to then travel over and fill the rest of the way to capacity.

They rode the horses through the scorched grounds with guns on hand and mounted lights that wobbled .The wind blew the bitter cold snow storm into a frenzy. The nearby smoldering craters sizzled, melting away the fleeting flakes on contact.

The man galloping into the middle of the pack followed the rapid bob of his tac light through the trees. He thought he saw something instantly dart away from vision. It was probably just another small animal. Man oh man why was it so important to go out tonight when daylight was only a few hours away.

Nate Spit led the charge on horseback carrying his huge flashlight one step below a floodlight. His gun was holstered while his men remained jumpy. He had to confirm as soon as possible if the hidden storage of fuel was even still usable. They could stay here another week, but if the liquid crystal was gone they were going to have to somehow scout out more way further out. He needed as much time and information as possible to stay planning in order to keep anyone more in his posse from dying.

“There’s the old fencing that I'm talking about,” he said, pointing.

Nate had halted his horse and jogged it back to the others.

“We need to look for the next landmark that the dying old criminal confessed which is an overgrown road hidden between mounds of gravel that look like boobs with two pointy nips on both tops he put to remember,” He dismounted tying the horse to a rusting skiff trailer with tires that had been flat so long they were mostly moss. “Then to the ultimate hiding spot of the underground fuel tank hidden where he was dumping rocky sand over to get finer stuff below. That's the mission, let's split up and look for clues,” said Nate.

“Yes sir,” said the other two with as much gungho performance as they could muster.

The others had gone left and right while he had gone straight ahead. Nate was the only one who had to tie his animal in order to traverse across a rickety rope bridge not looking down. On the other end he charged up a washed out narrow road going deeper into the gravel pit. He kept pushing forward by jumping over rocks stacked in piles and dodging holes that could lodge legs as he climbed higher into an ancient quarry.

There were three big levels to the pits and he found himself in the middle facing a high wall of slippery sand cut out from the ground. It looked like something was staring at him from the top part behind a row of rocks. Now it is gone, what is going on? He continued walking along the wall of sand before heading down a steep slope back down eventually leading through a hidden path through two mounds of dirt overgrown with blackberry barbs.

There were only three of sheriff Nate Spit’s crew occupying the building at the moment and one had been confined to living in the basement. If Jed was going to break free then now was a chance to run without the horses. He tried wiggling around again as much as he could without drawing the attention of a guard or medic. His bonds were way too much and even if he got out he wasn’t outrunning anyone even if he dumped Bessie. Well that would actually be the correct move since they seemed to suggest she was innocent. Of course that could be a trick, but why bother to lie with both of them so injured. Oh bother he remained stuck as ever.

“It’s too hot in here. I need help transporting her upstairs,” said the medic, looking concerned.

“As long as you think the boss will be cool with it, but I’ll have to stay down here to watch him and unlock the door when they return,” replied Charles, putting down the book to stand.

They each grabbed one end of Bessie and began carrying her up the steps.The old man groaned in pain as they snuck her into the room. The medic had already made up a beat in the corner of pillows and old musty blankets from a nearby trunk.

No longer under supervision Jed thrashed as hard as he could to break free. This was the best chance of escaping he was probably ever going to get. The tapping on the window scared him a bit, but he remembered it was just a tree branch. Jed rolled away from the scorching fireplace until his blood ran cold. It sounded like scratching behind the same window, but it was barricaded so you couldn’t see.

In the basement Ricky had dropped one of his weapons back into the holster for his light. He crept forward while the chains on the ceiling rattled parting around his body. With the door shut the air had become musty as fuck. It felt like an occasional water drop fell from the ceiling on the back of his neck.

He had already passed back by the stairs. He was only going to do one more quick sweep just to make sure there wasn’t any legendary loot sitting out in the open that would make him look like a fool to miss. The flashlight passed stacks of barrels and boxes to focus in on a locked door at the back wall of the other end.

“Now what the farc is that?” said Ricky, slowly approaching a padlock.

He put away his remaining equipped gun in order to better see the combination. He picked it up and held it close. The numbers already there were bunk so he tried 102.

“Click,” it unlocked.

“Haha I’m a genius,” Ricky yelled, throwing the lock away with a loud clang.

“Smash!”

The breaking glass behind him returned his attention before he had a chance to push open the door. Something was dragging itself through broken glass while otherwise quiet.

“Who’s there?” Ricky said, reaching for his weapon.

His light lit up a zombie looking right at him. It was a stitched together leprechaun crawling across the floor pulling strands of rotten stuffing in its wake. Its eyes were feral while its mouth was foaming for brains.

“Grrr,” growled Ratom, lurching forward to pounce out of the shadows.

“Bang,Bang,Bang,”.

Jed was deafened by the gunshots right below him. The knight came flying down the stairs right to him.

“Ricky are you alright?” called Clarence, down the hall to the open basement door.

There was no response. He threw Jed on his back and carried him upstairs swiftly like a beast.

“Watch them all , I'll go check on Ricky,” Clarence told the medic, drawing a side piece and handing it to him.

The medic thanked him, stuffing the weapon in behind his belt. Jed was chained up right next to the old man. Clarence left holding his primary weapon whilst the medic was focused on healing Bessie in the other corner.

“I found your stuff hidden in the barrel in the closet. In secret I cloned the jungle juice recipe and further improved the formula by filtering it 12 times through the last of the precious crystals I borrowed to pay the bills from work thirty years ago,I did it all for Bessie and figured you never notice by the time you get back and hit the road to continue on drifting. You have to protect her now,” he wheezed.

“I’m gonna try to save both of you,” said Jed.

The old man chuckled. His face was black and blue and flaring up with crystal mutations while he struggled for every breath.

He then groaned trying with all that remained of his strength to rip the radiator out of the floor but it wouldn't budge. “My gosh darn habit of using 100 screws on everything done really got the best of me again, Sigh well I was smart enough to load up the moonshining mobile with enough cases of the stuff to live modestly for a long while if yous can escape,” he whispered in Jed’s ear.

They heard footsteps shambling outside.