Naught and the Circle

Chapter 1 - The train a comin'

"The mighty men, and every bondman,
and every free man, hid themselves in the dens
and in the rocks of the mountains;
And said to the mountains and rocks, Fall on us,
and hide us from the face of him that sitteth on the throne,
and from the wrath of the Lamb:
For the great day of his wrath is come;
and who shall be able to stand?"


- Revelation 6:15-17 -

A shooting star dashed across the sky as a train separated the desert in two. In front of it lay an endless track of steel and wood, and in its wake; a thick cloud of smoke. The colossus roared through the night, battered but still mighty, adorned in heavy metal plates which were crudely welded on in fortification from both man, and beast.

Inside, a posse of 6 guarded its cargo: barrels of oil, clean water, and crates of vegetables for the citizens of the outskirts. The gunmen peered out of the few windows still left open. Gripping their weapons, and scanning the horizon for any signs of the enemy.

The only man who was not, a scruffy, middle-aged fellow by the name of Mark Shelby, sat upright in the corner. His head tilted forward as he slept in one of the many broken seats onboard. The train and its interior had long stopped serving the passengers of old, and rust and decay had taken over.

Shelby awoke with a gasp and sprung his eyes open in terror. Where were they? How long had he been out?

The familiar noise of the cars chugging along eased him out of his groggy state and back to reality. He exhaled and ran his fingers through his greasy gray hair.

Just a nightmare, Shelby, just a nightmare.

Across from him, and separated by a rotting table, she sat. A short, sturdy, teenage girl with red dreadlocks, heavy black eye make-up, and an amused expression on her face. Her name was Strawberries, and she was an ever-loving thorn in his backside.

Long ago, when he rescued her—Rescue being a horrible fairytale-kind-of-word to the whole affair—he had asked the child for her name. Strawberries was the only word she spoke for the next 2 weeks.

After their meeting, he took her in as his partner-in-crime, though of course there were no crimes to be had anymore. For that, you would need the law, and in the barren wasteland, the only justice one could hope for went through the Ghede family.

Strawberries and Shelby survived as guns-for-hire. And everything had gone swimmingly until the family, or more precisely; the Baron himself caught wind of their operations, and requested Shelby come work for them instead.

He had seen no other option but to shake the hand and sell his soul to the devil. Figuratively, although, in this day and age, you could be forgiven for taking that statement at face value.

The Baron had put Shelby and most of his men on tedious logistics duties. Strawberries loved it. Watching his crew haul crates around, and then spending the rest of the day gazing out of train windows. She called it easy money; staying out of trouble and collecting a decent wage. He, however, despised the ordeal.

"What you looking at?" He asked.

"What's the matter, Shelb?" She replied. "Nightmares again?"

She crossed her arms and pretended to mope. In the old-world, people would call her neglected. She was dirty and tough, wearing battered clothes, ending in a pair of oversized boots. Years of living in the desert had taken its toll on her skin. But this wasn't the old-world. Here everyone had gone through the wringer, Shelby included.

"Not that you can relate," he said. "But I need my beauty sleep."

She let out a defiant sneer, staring at him as he turned his head, pretending not to notice her.