DYSTOPIA [hs] |Complete|

i - The Beginning of the END.

     I stopped the recording, tossing the recorder into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. It bears no weight, to which I find to my advantage. I'm able to run faster and be stealthier when it comes to pass others.

     The last walker I came across had a road sign pole through its stomach, laying midair whilst groaning. It wasn't a pretty sight, skin hanging off its face and one eye missing. I read its name tag, the thing was once named Geoff and he used to work at a service station. That was about as far as I got with any contact before driving a blade through its skull. Three kilometres later and I am yet to find a service station, instead I am isolated in the middle of a forest. An ideal place to stay, away from humanity.

     "How'd it go?" An unfamiliar voice sounded and out of reflex I pulled the Rifle from my shoulder and held it to my chest. There was nowhere to hide except in the bushes or behind tree trunks.

     "Emptied the whole servo, left nothing but the rats and dust behind. This shit should last us months," another voice said. His voice was slightly higher than the other.

     "And gas?"

     "Only a tank full was left. This asshole swallowed a little when he tried to siphon it. Dumbass."

     "Oi, fuck you."

     I listened in on their little bickering but didn't move an inch until I knew they were completely gone. I couldn't risk exposing myself after only seconds of hearing their conversation. Turns out there was a service station, and these people raided the place until there wasn't a speck left. My own plan diminished as I had once concluded that would be the place of my hiding out until I was ready to leave again.

     "All right then, let's get inside before you idiots make any more noise."

     "Hey Lark, is lunch making you feel a little gassy?"

     "Shut up." It was silent for a moment before a soft thud was heard and a groan from somebody else, assuming that this Lark had hit the annoying one.

     I didn't have to wait long until a door was shut, making it clear that this was their camp. I was in their territory and if they were to see me then they wouldn't hesitate to shoot me. The world had succumb to this, where it wasn't walker against human but also human against human. It's a wonder how desperate people become when resources are limited, and it's only a matter of time before food will almost limit (or further than it already has). Of course I've only been living off on nature's gifts such as berries and other fruits I've found, but I've come to the point where I'd do anything for a hot meal by the fire.

     Once the coast was clear I made the decision to find some shelter, tonight I would be staying here. I've grown enough of waking up with spiders or snakes on me, if walkers won't be the death of me then it would be creepy crawlies. Sticks and bark were in my hair, which was surely completely dirty now. My bangs are officially overgrown, just slightly covering my eyes and I knew that if I weren't to deal with the issue then it could potentially cause me my life.

     Their place was almost like a large cabin. It was in a secluded area, and packed pretty tight. Windows were sealed off and any signs of vacancy were unclear. This place looked as deserted as anything.

     Without hesitation I crouched over and ran until I reached the cabin. The Rifle was fully loaded and my hatchet was in reach, just in case. Although I wished it were unnecessary for anybody to be killed, if I were shot at then I would definitely defend myself to whatever extent. There was another shack close to the cabin, I don't know what was inside but I hoped it was empty.

     There was a single car inside the shack, it was only then I realised it was used as a garage. But since it had now become dark I was sure that nobody would come inside. It was a large Land Rover, taking most of the space in this confined shed. I grabbed the door handle and pulled, and out of sheer dumb luck the door swung open. Whichever idiot was left to lock up obviously didn't fulfil their job. I pressed up on the light on the roof so I was able to see what remnants were in the car, and I've obviously been gifted by God or something because there were packets and packets of food.

     Sweet, savoury, drinks. Meat. Cans. Everything.

     The servo must've been loaded, and I didn't know it but I was laughing. There was so much variety that I wasn't picky at all. I picked a few random cans, a packet of crisps, and a water bottle. I would obviously stock up before I left in the morning, but for now this was enough.

-

     I felt the cold wind and shivered as goosebumps rose on my arms and legs, even underneath my clothing. I lightly groaned, rubbing my eyes and slowly opening them so I was able to adjust with being conscious. The floor had not been comfortable at all and my bum was completely numb, but this beats sleeping in the woods by a long shot.

     The first thing I realised once I was aware of my surroundings was a gun barrel being pointed straight at my head. I moved to grab my weapon only to realise that it wasn't there.

     "Get up!" His voice shouted, emitting authority that I dared not objectify his order. His foreign accent was recognisable from yesterday's encounter. I almost tumbled but quickly regained my balance and stood straight, my chin pointed up and back straight. I refuse to show any weakness. "What's your name?"

     "What's yours?" I asked him, not being able to see him clearly as my focus was at the two-end barrel pointing right at me.

     "I asked you first."

     I took a deep breath and shut my eyes before answering the stranger. "Jordyn."

     "Full name."

     "Jordyn Fisher," I replied although seeing no point in revealing my surname.

     "How did you get in here?" He asked, and I almost laughed at how convenient and valid his question was. A simple step like forgetting to lock a place that holds valuable items such as food is a foolish move and I laugh at whoever was held responsible for that mistake.

     "Place was unlocked. As was the car. Not a smart lot you are."

     "Don't be an asshole," he retorted.

     "You're the one pointing the gun at me."

     "She got you there, Styles," another voice spoke, yet this one was familiar too, and if I presume correctly he was the one who drank the gas he had tried to siphon.

     The barrel lowered and a breath of relief escaped my parted lips. I was more than relieved and felt the pace of my heart steady to a normal rate. Moisture was still felt on my forehead and upper lip, but I made no move to wipe it away with my sleeve.

     "Bring her inside and tie her up, boys. We're gonna have a little chat."

~

longer chapters coming ahead.