August 24
th
Year 1 A.Z.
morning
Waking up alone in the bed that I had been, until the last few days at least, sharing with Apocalypse Girl was not a sensation I was really wanting to experience very often. This morning was the worst so far, as I rolled over, expecting to be looking right into both of her eyes as I did so. I don't really like starting my days angry.
My team awaited me outside the Casino-Palace, Tiny and Machete, Scout and Apprentice, Viking and Valkyrie, Deathwish, The Twin, even little Jester. Apocalypse Dog barked at them as we approached. Butler hurried out, telling me that there was a slight change of plans. They knew who had let the dingoes into the city, he told me, they had him.
I wondered what that had to do with me, until he told me that as Sheriff, I was expected to be The Queen's Hand of Justice, or some such bollocks. The Queen herself awaited me with a gentle smile, saying that without me, without Justice, her city would fall to chaos and anarchy within a week. Her former Sheriff had taught her that, she told me, keeping a hand on my arm as we walked to the square in the middle of the city, where the condemned awaited.
Butler read out a list of charges, mostly endangering the city and people of Adelaide, the condemned had apparently left a gate open and an entire pack of dingoes had gotten in. This, I felt, was unlikely, considering the fact that fences and walls had been knocked down by the infernal beasts. They brought him out, wearing a hood. Reaching out, Butler whipped the hood away. There before me stood Elder, smiling broadly as usual.
Butler asked him if he had any final words. Elder said that indeed he did, but that they were for my ears alone. If I felt that the city of Adelaide needed to know what he had to tell me, he said, that was up to me. So, we were given about as much privacy as we were able; everybody took a couple of steps back.
“I saw this in a dream, mate, it'll be alright. I didn't let the dingoes in, but I did lead the pack here. I saw your missus, saw what
she
was going to put her through.” He jerked his head in the direction of The Queen. “Besides, you know me well enough... Strike me down and I'll become more powerful than you can imagine, mate! Don't worry, it's all going to be fine. Goodbye for now, good friend. You'll see me again one day.”
Then, without saying anything further, I drew my katana. Elder nodded once,
do it
, before kneeling and placing his head on the block. His head fell into the bucket below before I even registered the fact that I had swung my sword, then his body, head and all, seemed to vanish in a puff of steam. All that remained was his white robe, now stained red with Elder's blood, and his thongs, graven with the image of Elder's gnarled feet.
noon
We walked. For hours, now we had been walking, after taking the western exit from Adelaide, we walked until my leg could cope no more, then we sat until it could cope again. Then, we walked. Viking bitched about it the entire way, saying that The Queen had to own every vehicle that came into the city, otherwise we could have been driving. His complaints brought a few Dead down upon us, but nothing that we couldn't handle.
Where these occasional Dead sprang from I couldn't say, but The Queen had seemed certain that every single one of them had been dealt with, at least in the immediate area. Then again, she didn't go out on these runs. She had told me that she'd wait for me once again, though I told her not to. Some part of her, deep down in the depths of her soul, knew that I would not be coming back.
After a while, it began to rain, and still we walked. The Twin pulled out handy raincoats for everyone, Jester suggesting that he'd be warmer if he could simply share hers. She withered him with a glance and he took the proffered piece of plastic. We were onto the final stretch by now, trudging mainly through muck and mud now. Eventually, the rain let up.
Abruptly, a warning shot rang out. This was followed by a voice over a megaphone telling us that if we were the expected party from The Queen to raise our hands up and continue onwards. Deathwish assured me that he recognised the voice as one of The Master's cronies and that we were perfectly safe. I told him that perfectly safe didn't happen anymore, raised my hands in the air and walked forward.
evening
Apocalypse Girl, sporting a rather fashionable shiny black eye-patch, ran into me and greeted me with a hug that nearly knocked the breath right out of me. She practically squealed with delight seeing Viking and Valkyrie, wrapping her arms around the pair as well. The Master had come out personally, leaving his family behind, bringing with him several heavily armed men.
We ate a hearty meal together, Deathwish adding to the Meat-Beast steaks with several cans of baked beans. “Toxic gasses don't work against the Dead, dude,” he was told by one of The Master's thugs. A moment later, the same thug spoke once more. “How many cans can you fit in that fucker, anyway?”
Deathwish smiled. “I don't know, really.” He passed the bag to the thug, who reached inside. He was surprised to find that his hand met nothing but more empty bag. When the thug handed the bag back to Deathwish, he reached inside and pulled out another can of baked beans. “I don't know how it works, it's only with this particular bag, too. I just reach in, fossick around a bit and
boom!
Instant baked beans!”
Apocalypse Girl, in my arms once more at last, told me in a whisper that if she put her patch over her good eye, she could see people. She didn't know if what was happening was real or if she was simply going insane or what, but it was odd. Then she said that she wanted to speak with Elder about it. I told her that might be difficult. “I didn't think he'd die that easily,” she mused when I told her what had happened. “He always seemed to me to be, I don't know, above death, or something. If he's gone, then who's left to help me with this?” She tapped her eye-patch. “Do you think, maybe, that I'm seeing another dimension with the eye that Bitch Queen took?” Her voice faded until she was snoring gently in my arms.
August 25
th
Year 1 A.Z.
morning
The Master had his men clear out the Dead from the carpark, several dozen of the things still wandered about there. Jester told us that when the former Sheriff had gone in with his ill-fated group that there had been a great deal more of them, though greatly slowed by the snow and cold of the Winter. At least we were done with that shit.
“I don't really know where the fuck they keep coming from,” The Master told us as we ate our breakfast, watching his men make short work of the Dead. “I wake up every day thinking that by now we should have killed them all off, but still they keep on coming.” I shrugged around a mouthful of hot baked beans. “The worst part is a lot seem fairly fresh, too, if you know what I mean.” I did.
After about twenty minutes, the men came back, deeming the area safe enough for now. The front, at least. We still had to find some way into the main complex itself, preferably without smashing any windows or otherwise creating an entrance that any old shambler could amble through.
I spotted a window high up on a wall, low enough to reach but too high up and too small for Apocalypse Girl to use. I suggested that Jester and Deathwish hop inside and take a quick look around. The smaller of the pair gave me a look that could have killed a Dingo General, then Deathwish simply hoisted Jester up and into the window, following a few seconds later.
They called out that it was clear in there, they were going to see about another entrance. Past the fence, along the same wall, I could just barely see the outline of a doorway and called it out to them. Deathwish replied that they'd check it out and a few moments later the door opened and Jester ran out heading towards the fence. A couple of Dead followed him, though they were far slower than the usual corpses we had seen.
Jester reached the fence, The Master pulled out a pair of tin snips and began cutting a hole for him. “Where's Deathwish?” Apocalypse Girl wanted to know. Jester simply shrugged, saying that he had been right beside him to begin with, then they had seen the Dead. More than the two that had covered more than half of the distance. When asked how many more, Jester simply began panicking and demanding that we hurry up with the hole, he wasn't that small, dammit!
When he had come through, I ducked into the opening, drawing my sword as I did so. The Master followed me through, stopping me momentarily as I was about to swing at the first one. “Just watch for a minute first, mate.” He told me. “I think they might be starving.” Another Dead crawled out of the door. I saw a fourth just lying there, propping the door open with its frail looking torso. “I wonder how long ago their last meal was?”
The rest of our group had come through by that point and I rammed the point of my katana into the thing's head, then performed the same service for the other three before heading inside to search for Deathwish. He seemed at some times only a kid, though there was more upstairs than many other people his age. Idly I wondered just how old he really was, anyway.
noon
It wasn't hard to find his trail, we simply followed the trail of corpses. The Master ordered his men to patrol outside, testing a pair of kids walkie-talkies that had to have been manufactured at least a couple of decades ago. They worked well enough. At least our two groups would be able to call one another for assistance, if it were necessary.
Eventually the trail of corpses led to the site of a massacre. Somebody had made a final stand right here in International Arrivals, slaying an awesome number of Dead. Deathwish knelt over one of the corpses. “This is him, this is the Sheriff.” he told me as I approached. Tiny and The Twin kept a close eye on all of the corpses, lest any start to move. The Sheriff's corpse still held tight to a revolver, shining silver in the light of the sun that broke through a rather large hole in the ceiling. His head had a tiny hole in the right temple, but the entire left side of his head had been obliterated.
“Somebody needs to tell The Queen.” Jester mused. “But I am royally fucked if it is going to be me!” I wholeheartedly seconded that. The Master nodded, saying that he would make certain that word gets back to her about it. Jester continued. “In any case, if even half of these are his kills, the man died a fucking hero's death.”
Deathwish reached down and patted the former Sheriff's clothing, reaching into one pocket and retrieving a set of keys and a Zippo lighter proudly emblazoned with the American flag. “Yeah, the guy was a Yank. Didn't mean much after the shit hit the fan, of course, just that we all gave him shit about the way he talked.” Then, reverently, he retrieved the revolver. “And, I'm keeping this little beauty. I told him I wanted it one day. He told me 'Over my dead body!' and here we are!”
“Some of us gave him grief about his accent.” Jester said, gravely. “I was way more afraid of this character than The Queen, and you've all seen how that bitch makes me dress.” He seemed distinctly uncomfortable, as if the former Sheriff's brainless carcass would suddenly get up and attack him. “Besides, everyone already knows you're a fucking loony!” He and Deathwish shared a quick grin.
evening
My leg felt as if it were on fire. After Viking and Valkyrie volunteered for dead Dead cleanup duties, gathering up all of the corpses, smashing in the few skulls that still wanted to nibble on people, we decided on finding somewhere to hole up for the night, maybe with a door that we could barricade fairly easily. I suggested the security office, as The Sheriff had the keys for it in his pocket and may just have left something there we could use.
At least there was comfortable seating in the security office. Not really enough room for all of us, though we didn't mind that much. Apocalypse Girl checked my leg, unwrapping the bandages was a more than painful process. She turned to Apprentice, who seemed concerned. “I there anything you can do for this” Apocalypse Girl asked her.
“Not really...” Apprentice replied. “If I'd been the first to treat it, then yeah, but Queen Bitch-Head had her doctor deal with it already. I'd end up healing flesh over stitches, that'd only make things worse for him.” I fucking hate it when people talk about you as if you're not there.
“This needs to be cleaned. Shit. I don't suppose anyone has any...” Her words trailed off as her eye alighted on a first aid kit, hanging on the wall, unopened. She scurried for it, tearing it open and finding a bottle of something nasty that hurt a fuck-ton. As I screamed in agonising pain, she simply told me that it was for my own good. “It looks like you've got a mild infection here,” she said. “All I can really do for you now is wrap it back up in fresh bandages, but we should really find a chemists or something, get you some antibiotics.”