Post by Admin on Jun 14, 2015 19:38:21 GMT
As you can tell from slowed down posts, I took a lot of the summer off and will hopefully be less lazy when softmore year begins. Hopefully.
A narrative change to Leon at the end.
In the unlikely case that your memory failed you, we're starting in the middle of the Nixon encounter just to bring you up to date. In the unlikely case that your memory failed you.
“What do you want?” I hollered at him, trying to catch his attention, make his violent outburst on Leon stop, anything!
His eyes once again turned to me. And he said, “I like the way things are now. I’m alone. I can shoot up as many people as I want. Everyone reveres me as the solo, top dog around here; rats, cultists, soldiers, they all know to treat me well and especially not to interrupt or piss me off. Especially not the likes of you fugees.”
Fugees? Is that short for refugees? Nixon’s hard gaze fell right back to Leon who seemed conscious but wasn’t making any moves to get up or even look at the towering man above him. Nixon suddenly seemed as if he wasn’t even talking to us directly anymore, “I knew her. Yeah. I knew Myra. Before I went off to the damned US military, I lived here. Though ‘s not quite the same place I remember.”
He gestured around him sweepingly and then spit at the ground for some reason, letting his disgusting glob of saliva smack the broken up pavement.
“After the factions dealt with my men and any hope of rescue disappeared, I started looking for the people I used to know. Obviously, almost no one remained from my neighborhood. Except Myra – gee, of anyone to live through this, it would be Myra…no fricking way. So then, I ended up following her to your house. I watched you all in my spare time. She seemed in pretty good hands. Until tonight, of course. I haven’t seen such a sorry way of losing to the Hoods. If I hadn’t been following you for fun, you wouldn’t even be here anymore,” Nixon explained. We said nothing. The air was stiff with my fear and memory…He was the one watching us that night, across the street. It had to have been.
He shrugged as if the whole series of events were folly to him and then stepped over to me again. As if sharing a secret with me, he leaned down. He was close. He could do anything to me. I could smell his rancid breath as he spoke barely above a whisper, “You watch Myra. And I keep my hands free for more important things. Clear, Ryker? That’s your name, I’ll remember. And I never forget names or the people they match with.”
Then he walked away. He just walked away.
For a second more, I lay there, waiting for the fist of the crazy man to plummet onto my temple. But there was nothing else. I lifted my head off the ground and looked in the direction he had stepped away but I couldn’t even see him anymore. He was gone.
My muscles went kind of slack. I groaned. Leon was just holding his head in both hands on the ground, radiating pure anger and something else a lot more frightening. Fear. Leon was afraid.
What…was that?
Not only did a malicious gang of Hoods try to kill us, but now we had gained one very dangerous, bipolar stalker. We had gone from low, to beaten up, to…lower than before.
“…Leon…he’s gone…they’re all gone now,” I spoke, my ribs’ pain hitting me in harsh waves, my left hand pulsing painfully. He didn’t speak but he was still moving. Lower than ever before.
Many painful and quiet minutes passed. I got up. Leon got up. But something told me that he wasn’t quite the same confident brother I’d had before our two pathetic defeats. Something also told me not to offer anything in condolence.
I tried to pick up Myra myself, but fell short of the feat. Leon stumbled over and stooped to carry the still unconscious form. I guess she had a knack for sleeping in these kinds of situations.
Leon looked nothing but terrible. He’d ripped a cloth off his sleeve and covered his bright red nose with it. He was able to walk and carry Myra too with a noticeable limp. But he still looked like crap.
“Leon… I think we-“
“Keep walking,” he muttered with a voice that was completely new to me. “We’re close.”
We didn’t say anything else to each other, and I didn’t even attempt to argue with him. I spotted something useful on the ground. One of the gang members had dropped his pipe, so I grabbed it and used it as a walking stick. It helped take some painful pressure off my ribs. Although our bad sprains and cuts were better than gunshot wounds, we weren’t exactly grateful. What would’ve happened if one of them had fired point blank at us? If Nixon hadn’t came…
Never think what if. Advice I thought back on a lot. But I can never stop thinking what if.
We continued, despite all this. Something told us that we couldn’t go back, not now.
Though the aftermath of the struggle was a bitch for sure and our appearances were severely worse.
And with miles under our tattered shoes, Leon and I stumbled down the abandoned streets, amazingly alone and alive. The rest of the walk didn’t take too much longer. A half hour at most.
The next thing I heard Leon whisper hoarsely was, “Ryker, we’re here.”
I lifted my head from the concrete and saw a terrifying and relieving thing, the destination. A makeshift fence, slightly higher than my head, made of layers of wood, permanently parked cars, and other material wrapped around a brick building that stood tall and alone on its defiant street block. We were standing yards away from the only gap in the fence and a barely intact sign that read: N rthv ew Ch st an Chu ch. Some of the letters were missing, but it was clear. Northview.
What’s more, spray painted over the broken sign was an update. A message to anyone who didn’t wish to step any nearer. Anyone with sense.
UNDERGROUND SALVATION
And below that, may god guide our guns.
Good alliteration. Stupid saying though.
I looked to Leon who was now staring deeply at the seemingly unscathed building looming above the open parking lot, the tight fence, and just about anything else beyond it. The building was staring us down.
I don’t know what Leon thought in those brief moments of standing before that place, but the word unwelcome came to my mind.
“Leon, we shouldn’t-“
“I know what you’re going to say. But you’re staying outside, behind this fence. I’m going alone,” he suddenly spoke, over me. “If I don’t come back. If there are shots. If you hear anything that means I’m gone, you grab Myra if you can and run back the way-“
I cut him off as well, “Wait, what the-? You need me there, remember? If you go alone-“
“I could die immediately in there. And you would with me. That’s why you’re staying behind this fence and not getting involved, damn it,” he whispered through gritted teeth, bending down in the darkness to set Myra down who was still out cold. Leon and I were taking turns interrupting each other. “There’s been a change of plans. We didn’t expect a fricking army of Hoods and a War Trivia Obsessed Ex-General to attack us halfway here-”
“Then I’ll keep a glock trained on them from here. I’ll cover you-“
“Sentries on the roof and windows are no doubt looking out for that. Any movement, a gun peering around or over the fence. They’ll see, they’ll know. There’s no way to cover me,” he refuted simply. “It’s best this way. Now shut up. Sit down.”
His last choppy sentences and direct words slapped me, trying to convince me once again that he had it all in control. His dim but still sharp eyes staring at me, the same do it attitude as before, but with many more physical and emotional wounds now. He was demanding, but also pleading me in this moment. Definitely pleading.
I shifted uncomfortably on my walking pipe and hesitated for a second. Then I drew myself down to a crouching position, then slowly into a sitting position. My ribs throbbed…or was it my heart? Leon stared at me a bit longer, shrunk a hair in a feeling that I guessed was relief, and stepped back. I couldn’t make out his expression at all; I didn’t want to see it.
Then he took another step and began to turn away from me. No words left. There was nothing left between us but crushing hope.
But a childlike voice inside me couldn’t allow me to let him go yet, and I blurted out, “Wait, Leon… Be careful. Please don’t…”
“…Likewise…”
And then he turned. Took two small items out of his pocket and dropped the rest of his pack and its supplies to the ground. Stepped out into the parking lot entrance. Now it was up to those Christian f—kers whether he kept his life or not.
I tried to listen, but all I could hear was distant conflict. There was no way to see through the compact fence. Although there were cars in various states of disrepair making up parts of the wall, it was too damn dark to see through any of their windows into the lot beyond.
Leon had stepped out of the only barrier between the worship center and the street. And now it was time for these church mice to choose between survival instinct (shoot him on the spot) and their religion (let him live long enough to explain why he was here).
The lot was devoid of any cars or things that could be used as cover for fire fights between Underground Salvation and potential attackers. Above the main entrance ahead, Leon could see a painting of four multicolored horses which looked like something between an insignia and graffiti. As he slowly approached the building, he held up a dirty white handkerchief in his right hand and the pill bottle in his left. Sign of peace and offering.
From time to time, Leon had witnessed people who had tried to show submission to others by raising something white. The commonly used surrender color of the past. Sometimes it had worked for those people, other times more unmerciful groups shot them dead on the spot.
Willing himself to calmness, Leon thought, it’s the only way. I’m ready. I’m ready. Ryker is out of the way. That’s the best thing out of all of this. No matter what happens tonight… he still has a chance at--
At that moment, a beacon of light shone on Leon from the roof above. Unseen guards catching him in headlights. He only stopped, raising his hands still higher, suddenly aware of just how shitty he must’ve looked to them. Blood on his dirty, unshaven face, painful limp to his stride, nothing to his name except some precious antidote and his clothes that could all be easily stolen from him.
This plan really did turn out terrible for me. No back up whatsoever. And…how did they get the power for this light?
For several seconds more, there was near complete silence, save the background sound of the ever besieged city. Leon was almost about to speak, thinking that this might be his only chance given by the sentries, when the sound of someone familiar laughing stopped him. Laughing? Of all the things to hear?
The door to the church had opened and multiple sets of feet clomped onto the pavement ahead of Leon. He couldn’t see them well in the glaring light of the beacon still focused on him; just human forms approaching him.
The low, guttural laughing slowed and soon, its voice greeted him, “It’s been a long time, Leon. I almost forgot who you were; lucky for you, I didn’t.”
Krauser. He and the others, undoubtedly his personal guards, stopped a few feet away from him. After all this time, Krauser was still alive, still in charge of his little pocket of government.
Leon swallowed dryly and replied as straight forward as he could, “Hello Krauser. I came to make a bargain with you-“
“I can see that. But don’t bother, my boy Leon,” Krauser spoke in a tone that was only half reassuring. “I’ve been expecting you. You and that brother of yours, Ryker, along with a girl named Myra. At least, I was led to believe they would be with you.”
Leon’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t speak for a moment. How did he…?
Krauser then stepped closer into the bright light and Leon could finally see him face to face. Buzz cut blonde hair, semi-short but well-built stature, sharp blue eyes looking in mild amusement at Leon who was trying to mask his emotions.
“Apologies, dear Leon, for leaving you hanging in suspense, but I think this’ll explain it all,” he said rather pleasantly, extending his hand to Leon. In it, he held a small piece of paper with a hastily written note. “And please, take your hands down from the moon. I think we can make a good deal without holding a gun to your head.”
Leon slowly lowered his hands, dropped the handkerchief, and took the note from Krauser. He could barely focus on what the intimidating man was saying because of how ‘well’ this was going. As Leon’s eyes skimmed the scribbly text, Krauser continued talking, “He arrived less than fifteen minutes ago and delivered this to us. He left promptly after. He is one of the only outsiders we allow hang around here. In fact, we’ve helped each other out on multiple occasions, so I think this time I can…err, respect his judgment about you people this time.”
Leon’s eyes practically fell out of their sockets when he read through the note:
Mr. Krauser and the Salvationists,
I recently met three rather interesting citizens. A guy in his early 20’s called Leon, his little brother Ryker, and a girl I once knew more personally - Myra. Apparently, they left their old home to try and get in with you people, planning on arriving on your doorstep before dawn. They’re finally wising up after so many months, attempting to become part of an actual group. Anyway, get this, they’re bringing something to the table for you. Antidote for the recent spikes of the coughing plague this city has been experiencing. I don’t know why, but I’m throwing in a good word for these chaps. They have stuff and skills and the Ryker one has some humor and I like them, so don’t go blasting them to bits when they show up.
Sincerely,
Commander Nixon
Looking up from the scrap of paper, Leon saw Krauser smiling slightly.
“Was Nixon correct about you? You wish to join? You brought antidote?” he checked, gesturing towards the bottle in Leon’s left hand.
“Yes, everything is true, sir,” Leon replied like a recording. He felt like crying from everything that was flooding at him at once.
That sly stalking, two faced, friendly, tyrannical top dog, crazy commander Nixon. Thank god for him and damn him to hell.
“Good, if your other two companions are somewhere waiting for your all clear to come out, now would be the time. There’s still much for you to do before you officially become initiated; if you don’t mind, we’re a bit short staffed, so let’s get indoors to begin,” he invited. Then, in a more formal tone and with an even more pleasant smile, “Leon…welcome to Underground Salvation.”
A narrative change to Leon at the end.
In the unlikely case that your memory failed you, we're starting in the middle of the Nixon encounter just to bring you up to date. In the unlikely case that your memory failed you.
“What do you want?” I hollered at him, trying to catch his attention, make his violent outburst on Leon stop, anything!
His eyes once again turned to me. And he said, “I like the way things are now. I’m alone. I can shoot up as many people as I want. Everyone reveres me as the solo, top dog around here; rats, cultists, soldiers, they all know to treat me well and especially not to interrupt or piss me off. Especially not the likes of you fugees.”
Fugees? Is that short for refugees? Nixon’s hard gaze fell right back to Leon who seemed conscious but wasn’t making any moves to get up or even look at the towering man above him. Nixon suddenly seemed as if he wasn’t even talking to us directly anymore, “I knew her. Yeah. I knew Myra. Before I went off to the damned US military, I lived here. Though ‘s not quite the same place I remember.”
He gestured around him sweepingly and then spit at the ground for some reason, letting his disgusting glob of saliva smack the broken up pavement.
“After the factions dealt with my men and any hope of rescue disappeared, I started looking for the people I used to know. Obviously, almost no one remained from my neighborhood. Except Myra – gee, of anyone to live through this, it would be Myra…no fricking way. So then, I ended up following her to your house. I watched you all in my spare time. She seemed in pretty good hands. Until tonight, of course. I haven’t seen such a sorry way of losing to the Hoods. If I hadn’t been following you for fun, you wouldn’t even be here anymore,” Nixon explained. We said nothing. The air was stiff with my fear and memory…He was the one watching us that night, across the street. It had to have been.
He shrugged as if the whole series of events were folly to him and then stepped over to me again. As if sharing a secret with me, he leaned down. He was close. He could do anything to me. I could smell his rancid breath as he spoke barely above a whisper, “You watch Myra. And I keep my hands free for more important things. Clear, Ryker? That’s your name, I’ll remember. And I never forget names or the people they match with.”
Then he walked away. He just walked away.
For a second more, I lay there, waiting for the fist of the crazy man to plummet onto my temple. But there was nothing else. I lifted my head off the ground and looked in the direction he had stepped away but I couldn’t even see him anymore. He was gone.
My muscles went kind of slack. I groaned. Leon was just holding his head in both hands on the ground, radiating pure anger and something else a lot more frightening. Fear. Leon was afraid.
What…was that?
Not only did a malicious gang of Hoods try to kill us, but now we had gained one very dangerous, bipolar stalker. We had gone from low, to beaten up, to…lower than before.
“…Leon…he’s gone…they’re all gone now,” I spoke, my ribs’ pain hitting me in harsh waves, my left hand pulsing painfully. He didn’t speak but he was still moving. Lower than ever before.
Many painful and quiet minutes passed. I got up. Leon got up. But something told me that he wasn’t quite the same confident brother I’d had before our two pathetic defeats. Something also told me not to offer anything in condolence.
I tried to pick up Myra myself, but fell short of the feat. Leon stumbled over and stooped to carry the still unconscious form. I guess she had a knack for sleeping in these kinds of situations.
Leon looked nothing but terrible. He’d ripped a cloth off his sleeve and covered his bright red nose with it. He was able to walk and carry Myra too with a noticeable limp. But he still looked like crap.
“Leon… I think we-“
“Keep walking,” he muttered with a voice that was completely new to me. “We’re close.”
We didn’t say anything else to each other, and I didn’t even attempt to argue with him. I spotted something useful on the ground. One of the gang members had dropped his pipe, so I grabbed it and used it as a walking stick. It helped take some painful pressure off my ribs. Although our bad sprains and cuts were better than gunshot wounds, we weren’t exactly grateful. What would’ve happened if one of them had fired point blank at us? If Nixon hadn’t came…
Never think what if. Advice I thought back on a lot. But I can never stop thinking what if.
We continued, despite all this. Something told us that we couldn’t go back, not now.
Though the aftermath of the struggle was a bitch for sure and our appearances were severely worse.
And with miles under our tattered shoes, Leon and I stumbled down the abandoned streets, amazingly alone and alive. The rest of the walk didn’t take too much longer. A half hour at most.
The next thing I heard Leon whisper hoarsely was, “Ryker, we’re here.”
I lifted my head from the concrete and saw a terrifying and relieving thing, the destination. A makeshift fence, slightly higher than my head, made of layers of wood, permanently parked cars, and other material wrapped around a brick building that stood tall and alone on its defiant street block. We were standing yards away from the only gap in the fence and a barely intact sign that read: N rthv ew Ch st an Chu ch. Some of the letters were missing, but it was clear. Northview.
What’s more, spray painted over the broken sign was an update. A message to anyone who didn’t wish to step any nearer. Anyone with sense.
UNDERGROUND SALVATION
And below that, may god guide our guns.
Good alliteration. Stupid saying though.
I looked to Leon who was now staring deeply at the seemingly unscathed building looming above the open parking lot, the tight fence, and just about anything else beyond it. The building was staring us down.
I don’t know what Leon thought in those brief moments of standing before that place, but the word unwelcome came to my mind.
“Leon, we shouldn’t-“
“I know what you’re going to say. But you’re staying outside, behind this fence. I’m going alone,” he suddenly spoke, over me. “If I don’t come back. If there are shots. If you hear anything that means I’m gone, you grab Myra if you can and run back the way-“
I cut him off as well, “Wait, what the-? You need me there, remember? If you go alone-“
“I could die immediately in there. And you would with me. That’s why you’re staying behind this fence and not getting involved, damn it,” he whispered through gritted teeth, bending down in the darkness to set Myra down who was still out cold. Leon and I were taking turns interrupting each other. “There’s been a change of plans. We didn’t expect a fricking army of Hoods and a War Trivia Obsessed Ex-General to attack us halfway here-”
“Then I’ll keep a glock trained on them from here. I’ll cover you-“
“Sentries on the roof and windows are no doubt looking out for that. Any movement, a gun peering around or over the fence. They’ll see, they’ll know. There’s no way to cover me,” he refuted simply. “It’s best this way. Now shut up. Sit down.”
His last choppy sentences and direct words slapped me, trying to convince me once again that he had it all in control. His dim but still sharp eyes staring at me, the same do it attitude as before, but with many more physical and emotional wounds now. He was demanding, but also pleading me in this moment. Definitely pleading.
I shifted uncomfortably on my walking pipe and hesitated for a second. Then I drew myself down to a crouching position, then slowly into a sitting position. My ribs throbbed…or was it my heart? Leon stared at me a bit longer, shrunk a hair in a feeling that I guessed was relief, and stepped back. I couldn’t make out his expression at all; I didn’t want to see it.
Then he took another step and began to turn away from me. No words left. There was nothing left between us but crushing hope.
But a childlike voice inside me couldn’t allow me to let him go yet, and I blurted out, “Wait, Leon… Be careful. Please don’t…”
“…Likewise…”
And then he turned. Took two small items out of his pocket and dropped the rest of his pack and its supplies to the ground. Stepped out into the parking lot entrance. Now it was up to those Christian f—kers whether he kept his life or not.
I tried to listen, but all I could hear was distant conflict. There was no way to see through the compact fence. Although there were cars in various states of disrepair making up parts of the wall, it was too damn dark to see through any of their windows into the lot beyond.
Leon had stepped out of the only barrier between the worship center and the street. And now it was time for these church mice to choose between survival instinct (shoot him on the spot) and their religion (let him live long enough to explain why he was here).
The lot was devoid of any cars or things that could be used as cover for fire fights between Underground Salvation and potential attackers. Above the main entrance ahead, Leon could see a painting of four multicolored horses which looked like something between an insignia and graffiti. As he slowly approached the building, he held up a dirty white handkerchief in his right hand and the pill bottle in his left. Sign of peace and offering.
From time to time, Leon had witnessed people who had tried to show submission to others by raising something white. The commonly used surrender color of the past. Sometimes it had worked for those people, other times more unmerciful groups shot them dead on the spot.
Willing himself to calmness, Leon thought, it’s the only way. I’m ready. I’m ready. Ryker is out of the way. That’s the best thing out of all of this. No matter what happens tonight… he still has a chance at--
At that moment, a beacon of light shone on Leon from the roof above. Unseen guards catching him in headlights. He only stopped, raising his hands still higher, suddenly aware of just how shitty he must’ve looked to them. Blood on his dirty, unshaven face, painful limp to his stride, nothing to his name except some precious antidote and his clothes that could all be easily stolen from him.
This plan really did turn out terrible for me. No back up whatsoever. And…how did they get the power for this light?
For several seconds more, there was near complete silence, save the background sound of the ever besieged city. Leon was almost about to speak, thinking that this might be his only chance given by the sentries, when the sound of someone familiar laughing stopped him. Laughing? Of all the things to hear?
The door to the church had opened and multiple sets of feet clomped onto the pavement ahead of Leon. He couldn’t see them well in the glaring light of the beacon still focused on him; just human forms approaching him.
The low, guttural laughing slowed and soon, its voice greeted him, “It’s been a long time, Leon. I almost forgot who you were; lucky for you, I didn’t.”
Krauser. He and the others, undoubtedly his personal guards, stopped a few feet away from him. After all this time, Krauser was still alive, still in charge of his little pocket of government.
Leon swallowed dryly and replied as straight forward as he could, “Hello Krauser. I came to make a bargain with you-“
“I can see that. But don’t bother, my boy Leon,” Krauser spoke in a tone that was only half reassuring. “I’ve been expecting you. You and that brother of yours, Ryker, along with a girl named Myra. At least, I was led to believe they would be with you.”
Leon’s jaw clenched. He couldn’t speak for a moment. How did he…?
Krauser then stepped closer into the bright light and Leon could finally see him face to face. Buzz cut blonde hair, semi-short but well-built stature, sharp blue eyes looking in mild amusement at Leon who was trying to mask his emotions.
“Apologies, dear Leon, for leaving you hanging in suspense, but I think this’ll explain it all,” he said rather pleasantly, extending his hand to Leon. In it, he held a small piece of paper with a hastily written note. “And please, take your hands down from the moon. I think we can make a good deal without holding a gun to your head.”
Leon slowly lowered his hands, dropped the handkerchief, and took the note from Krauser. He could barely focus on what the intimidating man was saying because of how ‘well’ this was going. As Leon’s eyes skimmed the scribbly text, Krauser continued talking, “He arrived less than fifteen minutes ago and delivered this to us. He left promptly after. He is one of the only outsiders we allow hang around here. In fact, we’ve helped each other out on multiple occasions, so I think this time I can…err, respect his judgment about you people this time.”
Leon’s eyes practically fell out of their sockets when he read through the note:
Mr. Krauser and the Salvationists,
I recently met three rather interesting citizens. A guy in his early 20’s called Leon, his little brother Ryker, and a girl I once knew more personally - Myra. Apparently, they left their old home to try and get in with you people, planning on arriving on your doorstep before dawn. They’re finally wising up after so many months, attempting to become part of an actual group. Anyway, get this, they’re bringing something to the table for you. Antidote for the recent spikes of the coughing plague this city has been experiencing. I don’t know why, but I’m throwing in a good word for these chaps. They have stuff and skills and the Ryker one has some humor and I like them, so don’t go blasting them to bits when they show up.
Sincerely,
Commander Nixon
Looking up from the scrap of paper, Leon saw Krauser smiling slightly.
“Was Nixon correct about you? You wish to join? You brought antidote?” he checked, gesturing towards the bottle in Leon’s left hand.
“Yes, everything is true, sir,” Leon replied like a recording. He felt like crying from everything that was flooding at him at once.
That sly stalking, two faced, friendly, tyrannical top dog, crazy commander Nixon. Thank god for him and damn him to hell.
“Good, if your other two companions are somewhere waiting for your all clear to come out, now would be the time. There’s still much for you to do before you officially become initiated; if you don’t mind, we’re a bit short staffed, so let’s get indoors to begin,” he invited. Then, in a more formal tone and with an even more pleasant smile, “Leon…welcome to Underground Salvation.”
