Wrangler 8 -TUA [S1]

07: This Much

Apocalypse

Five travels through the ruins of broken transports, and fire under the raining burnt ashes. He pulls the wagon filled with supplies and liabilities and a mannequin at the back.

He held up a flask and drank when a gurgling croak echoes above him. He squints his eyes up to the sky and saw the familiar silhouette of a bird, he groaned, "you again?"

The bird landed at the back of his wagon from his peripheral vision, he shrugged, "fine, just whatever takes to make you stop annoying me." The bird dropped a can opener to the wagon, he heard the solid thud at the back but chose not to look at it.

As years passed, Five stirred through the heavy blizzard carrying the same mannequin at his pull-on wagon with more stuff, and the same bird sitting on the mannequin's head.

"It's Summer-Summer, Kwaak." The bird croaked flying above him, as he rides the fixer-upper bike pulling the same-like trolley.

He arrived at a half-broken building site, he came out and licked his fingers and peered at the mannequin flirtatiously, "Do you remember that, uh..." he began. "Little mansions at the city limits. Where we--" he paused, "yeah," and made a nervous laugh holding a cup in both of his hands.

The same bird landed on the small table beside where the mannequin is set. It lays down a cockroach on the table from its beak, almost forming a large pile.

"Yeah, well, it turns out the wine cellar was untouched. Picked up a few cases of your favorite Bordeaux." He chugs on the glass.

The bird protrudes its head at him and made a high-pitched croak.

"What're you looking at, punk?" He babbled.

It flapped its wings.

"Were you eavesdropping on us? Huh?" He took a sip again, "you know, my sister told me that animals have mating seasons. I don't think you could find any other birds to do the thing here, eh?" He chuckled.

Five gapes at the mannequin, and said, "ah, that's an exaggeration, I don't drink too much." He glanced at the bird, "at least not until I think a bird could speak."

"You know, I work hard all day. Why would you say that?" Five was just in time to hear rubbles falling, swiped up his firearm, and points it straight at the source.

The bird croaked loudly almost like a scream. A grey-haired woman stood waving her hand at him.

Now

Diego roughly steered the wheel as it let out a screech below them, and coming to a total stop in an empty parking lot. He stomps out and bashes his foot to the car with a groan and ruffles his head in frustration.

"Diego..." Joan called, going out of the car to come near him, she reached her hand on his shoulder, "hey."

Diego pulls himself away, "don't touch me..." He growled.

Joan sighed, she spoke pantingly, "look, I understand you're in shock right now, but please just calm down for a second. We could--"

"There's-no-we, Joan," he declared, "n-n-now l-leave me alone!"

"That's not what I'm trying to say, please for once just listen!" She pleads.

Diego's grunts and groans were only heard as he stood five-feet away from Joan facing his back to her.

"The pigeons..." she murmured staring down, "they must've led you to me for a reason."

Diego made no reply.