Ask almost anyone in the wasteland and they'd tell you hunting was the worst part of surviving out here, but Amari had never been bothered by it. It would only be a mild exaggeration to say she loved it. The thrill of cornering a wild animal, both the animal and herself fighting for their right to survive. As a child she lived every second sheltered from danger, at the beck and call of her parents.
This newfound freedom was exhilarating.
Amari hauled a large wooden cart, overflowing with the supplies she'd scavenged that day; torn rags, bones, twigs, dinner, and tech she couldn't put a name to. Weary, and longing for water, she stopped pulling the cart and took a swig from her small rusty canteen. The water was a murky brown swill of salty water and dust. Any sane person would refuse to drink liquid grime, but in the desperation of wasteland travel, sacrifices had to be made. She fitted the canteen to the back of the cart, and looked to the scorching desert sun.
"Almost home," she murmured weakly through the dirty rags that muffled her breathing and forged her way on through the wasteland.
She approached a small town and cautiously pushed inside, hoping to find it abandoned. There was a disconcerting silence over the town. In Amari's experience, it was only truly silent before the roughest of storms. The figure of a woman slipped out from between the shadows, Amari's only warning before a flash of the sky passed her eyes. Thin long fingers pressed themselves into Amari's neck as she was forced to the ground. The stranger tightened her grip, stopping any air from getting to Amari's lungs. As she choked, the woman's long face became lighter in the sunlight, revealing thick scars along her hollow cheeks.
"Stay down. Your hard-earned supplies are ours now," the haughty woman whispered, her expression contorting into a nasty smile as she pressed harder on Amari's neck.
Perhaps a couple years ago, Amari would've been frozen in fear, but her time in the wasteland had left Amari numb to this level of pain and intimidation. She sized up the woman with a chilly glance, taking note of a small cut on the woman's left arm which hadn't been properly treated. Tensing her hand, she tore her fingers directly into the cut, reopening the wound, and gorged out a large chunk of the woman's arm as a tidal wave of red blood came pouring down, dripping onto Amari's unperturbed face. The woman screamed like a demon crying out from hell, pulling back in shock and terror. Amari had forced an opening.
Before the wind itself could catch its breath, Amari was back on her feet. The woman let out a few pained grunts as she attempted to suppress the wound on her arm. Holding the injury with her right arm left her face unguarded as Amari's heel collided with her jawbone. The woman's spine met the earth with a thick crunch, leaving her sprawled painfully across the ground. With a menacing air Amari drew the sharp pocket blade from her jacket, brandishing it as a weapon. The woman made a desperate attempt to tackle Amari, but was met only with a sharp penetration in her left side. Amari elbowed the woman in the back of the head, forcing her to the floor once more. Before the woman could even beg for mercy, Amari slashed her neck open, the pulsating gash killing her in a matter of seconds.
The woman's eyes grew dim, her defeated corpse lying still on the road, the only sign of movement being the trickle of blood that once flowed through her veins. Amari's expression showed no hint of emotion. No pain. No sorrow. She stared at the body much as one would stare at a hunted animal. She won. That was her only thought.
A howl erupted from the shadows behind her, Amari twisted in response, but was too slow. The fist of a burly man collided with her torso, forcing her back a few meters, the knife disconnecting from her hand and digging into the dirt. Amari cursed her foolishness. Wolves always hunt in packs.
Amari scanned her surroundings, but she'd lost track of her knife in the collision. Her heart nearly stopped as she heard a familiar metallic click from the man's hand. The cocking of a gun, pointed directly at her head.
"On your knees... NOW!" The man choked through streams of tears, his hands shaking like a bomb ready to explode.
Amari got down on her knees carefully. Sudden movements would only encourage the man to shoot her. She played every possible escape and attack in her mind, taking mental notes of the gun and the man's physical state.
Unfortunately, this human didn't have an untreated wound on his left arm waiting to be gouged out.
The man stepped closer, until the gun's muzzle rested between her eyes. The man ripped off Amari's hood and rags that hid her face, revealing her pale skin and distant eyes. He moved his sight away from Amari in disgust. "You're a fucking Freak!" He yelled. "Of course you are! Only a Freak could murder with such disrespect for life."
Amari had met plenty of humans who fit that description.
One was standing in front of her.
He looked back with hate and anger festering in his eyes, but his body seemed to be unsure how to respond. The man clearly wasn't used to brutal violence like Amari was. That made him vulnerable.
"That girl on the road, that was my damn wife! Oh... My Angel..." he cried, now staring at the woman's corpse spread out on the road.
With the man's gaze distracted, Amari took advantage of the few seconds she had. She reached up and grasped onto the man's gun, before swiftly facing it back at the man's head. The erupting sound of the bullet piercing through the man's cranium was so fast he didn't even have the time to change his expression. He fell to the road and all light faded from his eyes.
He's with his wife now. In hell.
They'll probably have it easier there.
Amari, still holding onto the gun, jumped to her feet and surveyed the nearby area for any other attackers. It seemed they were alone, giving Amari a chance to breathe. Her shoulders relaxed and she lowered the pistol. It was just the two, trying to survive together in this harsh world. Amari gazed over at their bodies, their souls damned and already forgotten. She let out a small laugh as she thought about the idea of surviving with someone you loved - not the same love as you would feel for a sibling or parent, but for someone more.
Covering her face with the hood once more, she decided it'd be a horrible mistake.
You'd be signing your soul to the devil himself.
Amari examined the pistol for a quick moment, before tucking it into one of her pockets. It was a good gun, it was just being used by the wrong person. As she walked back over to her cart, Amari's sight drifted to a small animal lying dead on the road. For a brief moment, her mind drifted to the thought of roasting it above the campfire. It made her mouth water, it'd been a while since she'd eaten some decent meat.
Excited, she hurried over to its dead body. As she grew closer, it became clearer that it was a rabbit, but not one she could eat. It's fur was stained red, and large radiation burns travelled across its skin. And unlike normal burns, those wouldn't cook the meat. Most animals these days were much like that rabbit - Not dead, but something far worse. Amari was ready to turn around, but froze in place when she noticed the body of a girl behind cover. Amari reached for the pistol and pulled it out.
A trap. It has to be.
She crouched down and looked around once again. She stayed there for a good few minutes, watching the girl intently and waiting for her to move... But she didn't.
Amari cautiously walked closer to the body to get a better look. The girl was dressed in a dirty white and blue gown. Her hair was a chestnut brown, short but messy. Her skin had a golden glow that simmered in the sun, but was smeared with slime and blood. Black blood. Amari stared down at the girl's leg in shock.
How could someone bleed black blood?
She examined the rabbit beside the girl and pieced together what had happened. She bent down and checked the girl's pulse-faint, but still alive.
"How the hell are you still alive?" she asked aloud.
She shook her head and stared at the poor girl's face. A part of her knew she should've left the girl alone, but for once, she felt pity for a stranger. Her drawn face looked lost, hurt and confused. It reminded Amari of what she used to be. After a few short moments, Amari made her decision. She dragged the girl across the sand and lifted her up onto her cart. She wrapped the leg wound with a thin bandage, with the intent to stop the bleeding.
"What a day," Amari sighed and pulled the cart along the road.
Of all the mistakes Amari would make in her life, this was the largest.