Post by MSS Productions on Jun 12, 2020 1:00:03 GMT
PA Announcement: “Paging doctor Alexander to the ICU. Doctor Alexander to the ICU.”
M.S.S. Presents…
The scene opens to the bright fluorescence of hospital hallways bustling with people. Nurses in various color scrubs, doctors in their scrubs and white coats and parents of a range of all ages all walking through one hallway or another.
The camera shifts down one of the hallways focused on the floor following a pair of comfortable looking shoes. It slowly comes up the body to the legs revealing a pair of scrub bottoms and then to the upper torso revealing a scrub top. The faintest hints of yellow blonde hair appear as people mill around the figure.
The camera comes around to reveal the face of Madison Chaney, minus the usual amount of make up she seemed to wear in the world nowadays. She had a special type of beauty about her, an innocence that couldn’t help but make people smile.
The shot follows Madison around a corner to a square counter sitting in the middle of the room. Two women in blue scrubs stood behind the counter, one around the same age as Madison and the other in her late forties. The younger of the two looks up and smiles a big happy smile at the woman standing on the other side.
Young Nurse: “Madison! You’re back early!”
Madison Chaney: “Yeah, they recalled everyone who works in this ward.”
Madison walks around the nurses station and looks over the older woman’s shoulder down at the patient list.
Madison Chaney: “What’s going on?”
Older Nurse: “We’re happy to have you. It’s been 12 hours of weird.”
Madison Chaney: “Define “weird,” Rosa.”
Older Nurse: “Patients in rooms 28, 19, 37 and 117 have been….twitching.”
Madison Chaney: “Twitching? They recalled us all for twit….”
Madison suddenly stops and slowly her head turns to look over at the older woman.
Madison Chaney: “Did you say 37?”
Young Nurse: “She did.”
Madison Chaney: “Mr. Pearson is in room 37. Mr. Pearson hasn’t moved, to twitch or otherwise, in five years, Rosa. He’s in a vegatative state….”
Older Nurse: “ As true as that is Madison, he’s twitching.”
Madison scoffs and turns, walking back around the nurses station. She gets as far as the end of the counter when the screaming starts. It came from the stairs leading to the first floor, screams both male and female. Madison and the other nurses turn and sprint toward the windows to look down at the parking lot.
Below them were dozens of people who seem to be...attacking other people. Wielding iron bars ripped from the building or sharpened/jagged pieces of furniture. A small figure, perhaps a teenage girl, jumps on an old man’s back and begins to drive the jagged edge of a chair leg into the back of his head, stabbing repeatedly as he falls.
Another scream breaks the silence inside the second floor of the hospital. The door of room 117 bursts open and a young woman in scrubs and a white coat comes running from the room. She only makes it a half a dozen steps before an elderly man bolts from the door at a sprint behind her. He slams into her back driving her into the wall at tremendous force and begins to bring the metal stand of the IV bag down onto her head, the impact making wet crunching sounds.
The doors of rooms 28, 19 and finally thirty seven open violently and three figures run from them, snarling like feral animals. All of them wielding makeshift weapons, all ripped or torn from one part of their hospital room or another.
The four of them descend on the nurses and other patients without remorse or hesitation. A man in a security outfit suddenly bursts past Madison and the other three shocked nurses and draws a sidearm from his belt, firing at the man who had come from room 37. The bullets strike him square in the side and chest as he turns, blood exploding from the impact spots but he doesn’t so much as slow down.
Two of them hit the security guard, one of them bringing the steel bar of a bed frame down into his face, the flesh exploding into a wet mushy puddle. Madison screams when another of them slams into Rosa, driving her into the window with such force it cracks.
Behind them the doors to the first floor stairs burst open and figures sprint into the hallway, all of them completely nude and wearing toe tags from the morgue. One of the naked men hits the other nurse beside Madison and begins to rip into her with his bare hands, blood exploding over the pale flesh of his chest and arms as she screams in agony, reaching up for Madison.
Madison turns, barely avoiding the sprinting creatures as they pounce on anything and everything they find. By sheer luck an elevator opens and Madison is able to slip into it just as the doors close.
She stands panting, a look of confusion and sheer blind terror on her face as the screaming echoed in the building all around her. The scene fades to black and the green image appears on the screen.
Afterlife
Episode 2
“Debts”
Starring
Bethany Kenyon as Abigail Ryder
Lilith Meadows as Madison Chaney
Dean Matthews As Jackson Mawl
Samantha Hamilton As Jema Delacriox
Nathaniel Cartwright As Miles Wright
The credits appear on the screen as the shot follows a small pick up truck and two motorcycles coming around a corner of a hill. The road was lined with cars, SUV’s and abandoned motor-homes on each shoulder. Some were even down in the ditches. All of them seemed to be pushed from the road to clear it.
As the three pass the cameras, a handful of figures appear, sprinting from the shoulders of the road following behind the trio, but unable to catch them. The camera shifts again, and like before as the three come around a bend, 6 of the creatures sprint into the road just after they pass and turn to follow, only to stop sprinting when they are out of sight.
The shot follows the trio into a small suburb and to the gates of what appears to be a storage facility. The facility is locked inside a chain link fence topped in razor wire. The fence's interior had been reinforced with steel plates and heavy concrete barricades on the inside to keep it from getting reached through or pushed back. The main gate was a rolling fence reinforced by the same steel plate with concrete barricades, two deep lining each side of the outside and two wooden man-made towers on the inside, each manned by multiple figures.
When they see the truck the gate is pulled open allowing the trio to slip inside. The gate closes behind them just as the creatures they had been unable to shake come into view, all sprinting at the fence line. They all hit the fence, clawing and slashing to get in only to be met by poles, spears and other objects coming through the holes in the steel plate and into their necks.
The camera follows the creatures all falling and the gates opening once again, letting the teams out to clean up the bodies before shifting to the inside once again as Jema climbed out of her truck and the women pulled up behind it.
Abigail, still sitting on her bike, looks back at the now opened fence as five men cart away the bodies of the dead runners.
Abigail: “You guys have gotten efficient at that.”
Before Jema could answer a male voice calls out from behind the group.
Voice: “I learned what he taught me well.”
Abigail, Madison and Jema all turn to find a man walking from the office building of the storage facility. He wears a leather jacket over a blue faded t-shirt, a pair of black jeans and black cowboy boots. Long blonde hair is pulled up into a bun at the back of his head and he sports a well trimmed blonde beard.
Abigail: “Jackson.”
There is no happiness in her voice as she greets the man walking toward them. Only uneasiness and annoyance. Madison, on the other hand, smiles wide and runs over to the big, towering male figure. Jackson returns the hug with a smile and turns his eyes to Jema.
Jema: “You wanted a couple of Scavs?”
Jackson: “And you bring me Abigail and Madison?”
Madison: “Well, truth be told, Jax? We just happened to be at Iron Lake when she came looking.”
Abigail: “Why are we here?”
Jackson: “Come inside.”
Jackson turns and starts toward the storage office again but Abigail crosses her arms over her chest and doesn't so much as rise from her bike.
Abigail: “Why. Are. We. Here?”
Jackson stops at the door, with one arm extended and his hand on the door’s edge. He blows out a deep exasperated breath and runs his other hand through the neatly trimmed beard, then looks back at the woman seated on the bike.
Jackson: “I need a favor. And you owe me Ryder.”
Before she can respond, he turns and walks into the office proper. Abigail, on the other hand, shoots off her bike, her eyes so wide they are nearly popping out of her head. Madison reaches out to grab the back of the Kutte but she is already out of reach, storming toward the door he had just let close behind him.
Jema comes in behind Abigail as she throws the door open. The door opens into a lobby filled with plants, all growing in the light of the windows, tomatoes, cucumbers and other vegetables, all growing in square boxes stacked near the windows. The lobby leads to a counter, behind which had been the staff office, which has been converted into a living area. The area is fenced off with decorated metal sheets with a door carved into one of them. When Abigail reaches for the spiked baton sized bat hanging from her belt, the tall blonde woman grabs her arm, stopping her. Abigail throws her arm forward out of Jema’s grip, staring at Jackson’s back as he walks through the door in the makeshift wall.
Abigail: “I don’t owe you a fucking thing...traitor.”
Jackson freezes halfway in the door leading to his room. His fingertips drum on the metal briefly before he lets out a deep sigh. He speaks without turning around as Madison enters the room behind the two women.
Jackson: “Abigail...you know what I did. You know that you and James wouldn’t have made it out of Shermon if it wasn’t for me.”
Abigail stares a hole through his back, her jaw clenched and her fingers dancing on the end of the baton.
Jackson: “You owe me Ryder.”
Abigail: “I. Don’t. Owe. You. Shit. Traitor.”
Jema: “We’ll pay you!”
Jema shouts, the panic creeping into her voice at the tension now in the room. There was something she didn’t know but she wasn’t about to let that ruin what they had called these two women here for. Madison lays a hand on her friend's arm and turns her attention to Jema.
Madison: “How much is the bounty?”
Jema: “Name your price.”
Madison: “Abigail….”
Abigail: “I do not owe him.”
Madison: “It isn’t a favor if they are paying us Abbi. It’s a job.”
Abigail looks back at Madison and then to Jema before finally looking back at the man standing with his back to the girls. Jackson never so much as moves, the muscles of his back so tense they are visible through the jacket.
Abigail: “What’s the job?”
Jackson doesn’t speak for a moment. He stands with his hand closed around the edge of the metal wall so hard his knuckles are white. A full ten seconds passes before he finally releases his grip and turns to face them, looking first at Jema in annoyance before shifting his gaze to Abigail.
Jackson: “We got reports of something strange happening up past Richards Bluff. The Ferals acting oddly so we paid a trio of Scavs two weeks rations, up front, to go and check it out.”
Madison: “Two weeks? Paid up front? You must have really wanted answers.”
Jackson: “I’ve got a hundred people living here Madison. If the Ferals are acting oddly? I wanna know why and if that is a danger to us.”
Abigail: “What does this have to do with us?”
Jackson’s jaw clenches as he turns his gaze back to Abigail. Jema lets out a disgruntled sigh and answers for him.
Jema: “They were supposed to be back five days ago. No updates, no word, just….poof. These were experienced Scavs Abigail, but we don’t know if they were laylaid by poachers on the road or the Ferals….”
Madison: “And you want us to check on your team?”
Abigail: “Let me get this straight.”
Abigail crosses the lobby to where the counter opens into the makeshift room that Jackson had created for himself and crosses her arms over her chest.
Abigail: “You want Madison and I to go out where five fully-geared, rationed and armed Scavs disappeared?”
Jema: “That’s the long and short of it….yes.”
Abigail: “Fuel. Whenever we’re here, for the next year.”
The titan of a man standing only feet from her now, wheels around fully and throws his arms into the air in outrage.
Jackson: “You’re out of your mind.”
Abigail leans forward, leaning up on her tiptoes to look up into his eyes and growls.
Abigail: “Then you’re outta fucking luck. Madison….”
Abigail turns and motions with her head and Madison turns without a word. It was clear the two were going to leave without another word. Jackson stands there, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched but Jema watches it all with wide eyes. Before they can get to the door, Jema shouts.
Jema: “Eight months! Fuel at no cost whenever you are here for eight months!”
Jackson: “JEMA!”
The blonde woman holds a hand out to the hulking figure and keeps her gaze on Abigail and Madison.
Jema: “Well?!”
Abigail looks to the side at her friend. Madison bites her lip, the wheels in her head obviously turning. She knew how dangerous this was going to be, but they had enough on Abigail’s bike to barter for the supplies they needed so she gave the faintest of nods. Abigail then turns to face Jema.
Abigail: “We’ll stay here tonight and leave tomorrow. Can we stay here or shall we camp outside the fence?”
Jema wasn’t about to overstep her bounds again and looks to Jackson who jerks a nod. She looks back at the women and thumbs her right hand over her shoulder.
Jema: “Follow me.”
Jema leads the girls through the lobby and around the side of the makeshift room Jackson had created to a door in the left most corner. Madison follows behind Abigail, unable to stop herself from noticing the death stares both she, Abigail, and Jackson were shooting at one another.
The door leads to an enclosed hallway with multiple offshoots. In all directions are steel downward rolling doors of storage units, some of them closed with music or faint conversations inside while others are open revealing beds, chairs and other furnishings of living quarters. They had converted the storage units into sealable homes for the residents.
Jema leads them down the leftmost hallway to the unit marked 197 and pulls the door up with a loud metallic clatter. The room has two twin beds, one on each side of the unit with a table sitting in the middle with an oil lamp sitting in the center of the table.
Jema: “It’s not much, but it’s comfortable and safe.”
Madison: “Thanks Jema”
Jema wishes the two goodnight and turns, heading back down the hallway again. When she reaches the office again she walks directly to the metal door and pushes back the blanket serving to block the view of the inside. The inside of the room holds a full queen-sized bed covered in black sheets and a thick black comforter. A night stand sits beside the bed and a dresser beside that with a large mirror sitting atop it.
Jackson was now shirtless and standing facing the door, but his head was turned to look behind him. In the mirror above the dresser was a reflection of his back, the entire length of it covered in one great scar and he was running his fingers over the edge of it.
The blanket falls back into place and the two lock eyes in the mirror. Jema comes forward and reaches around him, her fingertips touching the scarred flesh in a touch that was tender, affectionate even.
Jema: “Does this have something to do….with whatever that was, Jax?”
Jackson turned his gaze from the mirror to the face of the beautiful blonde woman standing beside him then without a word leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead and laid his hand on her hip.
Jackson: “Another life, Jem. And one that isn’t really something you need to worry about.”
Jema: “I worry, Jax. It’s what I do. You wanted me to be the head of security and now...well, let’s just say I’m very concerned about your safety.”
Jackson: “She wouldn’t have hurt me, Jem….”
Jema: “She reached, Jax. When you said she owed you? She reached.”
Jackson: “She wouldn’t have done it.”
Jema: “How can you be so sure? What the hell happened, Jax?”
Jackson draws in a deep breath and turns away from the woman giving her a clear view of the scars and she notices for the first time, even if it wasn’t the first time seeing them, that it wasn’t across his whole back. It was the center, the top and the bottom near the belt line with gaps between. He crosses the room to the bed and drops down, running his hands over his beard.
Jackson: “Her husband and I had history. When all of this broke out? I was leaving the state with my sister, her husband and his father when we found them. James, her husband….he was hurt. He’s fallen getting her out of the house and been impaled on a fence post outside the bedroom window. He was losing blood fast and could barely stand. He told her he didn’t wanna be touched by a traitor before passing out…”
Jema: “Traitor? Did you two know each other?”
Jackson: “....After he’d passed out she wouldn’t let me near him. Until he was turning a nasty ash color...then she let me cauterize the wound. I sealed it up as deep as I could into the wound from both sides…”
Jema: “You weren’t worried about infection?!”
Jackson smiles a sad, nearly amused grin and reaches over his shoulder to touch the scar on the top of his back.
Jackson: “Infection? No. There had been more than enough antibiotics in my house before we left to ensure I could head off anything before it got too bad. I was going to give him the courtesy they didn...After we got the wound sealed we were going to lay low and let him recover but...the Ferals arrived. Dozens of them, coming from all around us. They got my sister's husband and his dad before we even knew what was happening. Abigail refused to leave him and...I wouldn’t leave her….”
Jema’s eyes narrow on his face at the way he says this and she crouches down at his feet looking up into his eyes.
Jema: “You had feelings for her?”
Jackson laughs and shakes his head.
Jackson: “No. I couldn’t let another wife….I carried James myself. Even after one of them got me in the leg...I still carried him. For two straight days, with no sleep I carried him. We got to a wood supply depot and he regained consciousness...enraged that Abigail hadn’t listened to him. The next morning? They were gone.”
Jema: “....Why would she deny you did that?”
Jackson lifts his head as if he was going to answer but instead he just reached down and grasps the woman by the sides, lifting her up like she weighted nothing. Jema ends up straddled on his lap and lets out a deep happy groan as his lips press into her own. Jackson’s hands were quick with her assistance, pulling her shirt off and soon she is bare- backed to the camera with her hands loosening the long blonde hair from the bun.
The scene shifts from them to Abigail and Madison, changed into something to sleep in and slipping into the makeshift beds in the storage unit. Back to Jackson and Jema, now covered at the waist by a sheet and lost in a passionate kiss, her back arches and his hands get lost in her blonde hair. Back to Abigail and Madison as Ryder leans out and blows out the oil lamp leaving them in darkness.
The scene shifts back into the bedroom of Jackson Mawl, two bodies on the bed lost in the throes of passion reflected in the mirror and the faintest light of two burning candles on the nightstand.
The final shift sends the shot to the outside of the storage facility and the ferals sprinting back and forth around the chain link fence and finding no way in before disappearing into the darkness.
**
The morning sun is already well into the sky when a figure on a patchwork bike approaches the gates of the H & L storage facility in Hessberg. The bike is mostly grey with a white suspension fork in the front, black fenders and an engine made of three different color parts. It doesn’t look pretty, but it rides straight. Dependable.
The man on the bike is no better than the bike itself, wearing a sleeveless black vest over a black shirt and a pair of loose fitting black jeans over a pair of boots with the laces undone. He sports a beard and short, well-kept brown hair. He has the look of a man that, while not exactly needing a bath, is always dirty. No doubt from always being in the shit.
The bike rolls up to the gate at a slow pace and those at the gate immediately open it without so much as a greeting. The bike passes the threshold with the gate closing behind it and the man kicks the stand down and climbs off. He has what appears to be a mass of gears and strings on his back that resemble most a crescent moon with the string attached. A .357 Mag sits smugly on each hip and an inclined machete is strapped to his thigh.
He crosses the compound proper, never breaking stride as he slips between people milling around. As he passes by another bearded man working on an engine near the fence line, he pulls a small cloth back from inside the vest and tosses it to him.
Man in the vest: “For tightening the chain for me.”
The bearded man reaches into the bag and pulls out freshly picked leaf tobacco and grins.
Bearded man: “Thanks Miles!”
Miles walks backwards a few steps, grinning before swinging around and making for the office. As he nears the door, it bangs open revealing the head of H & L security and fellow Scav, Abigail Ryder. The two pass without ever really seeing Miles, but his eyes linger on Abigail and a mischievous grin appears on his mouth.
Passing into the office, he finds Jackson leaning forward on the office counter where he was speaking to a woman with yellow blonde hair wearing a pair of low rider jeans and a shirt. The way she was leaning however exposes a part of the small of her back. Miles comes up suddenly and plops himself onto the counter beside her, putting his face in his hand as he lets out a deep, needing sigh . All over-exaggerated, of course.
Miles: “Where have you been all my life, Madison Chaney?”
Madison can’t stop the giggle as she hears the voice she knew so well. She turns her attention to him, arching a pert brow.
Madison: “Avoiding men like you.”
Miles puts his free hand to his heart and lets out a loud gasp.
Miles: “You wound me! Jax, you see how she wounds me?”
Jackson’s brow lifts without warning and he lets out a deep throaty laugh, shaking his head the whole time.
Jackson: “Something tells me you’ll be fine, Wright.”
Madison lets out another giggle and leans over, wrapping her arms around the tattooed man’s shoulders in a warm, happy hug. After, she leans back and takes her place back on the counter once again.
Madison: “What are you doing here Miles?”
Miles: “Heading up into the pass to do a run for Cold Creek.”
Madison looks shocked and a little unhappy, disappointed even but Jackson’s eyes narrow and he pushes himself off the counter up to his full six foot six height.
Jackson: “Since when do you run for Vanessa?”
Miles: “There is a specific mineral that is up there she needs a few times a year and pays like a rescue mission for it. The last time I did this run I got this baby in return….”
Miles withdraws the strange mass of metal and strings from his back by the center of it and, with a hard flick of his wrist, the whole thing instantly extends into a full-sized compound bow. Jackson whistles and Madison stares at it in awe.
Madison: “Never seen one break down so….small….before.”
Miles: “It’s a prototype made by one of the citizens of Cold Creek. Can damn near put an arrow through a feral’s head at a hundred yards.”
Jackson: “Can’t deny it’s pretty, but it’s not worth working with that psycho bitch.”
Madison: “I have to agree…”
Miles: “Who isn’t a little crazy anymore? Other than Snow White here.”
Miles folds the bow back up and slips it back into the snaps to secure it to his back while Madison shoots him a look, laughs and shakes her head. Behind the group the door opens and Abigail reappears holding a small duffle bag in her right hand. When she sees Miles leaning on the counter, she snorts and tosses the bag to Madison.
Abigail: “Do you give off like a scent or something?!”
Madison catches the bag and giggles, shooting a quick look at Miles who lifts a suggestive brow which only gets her laughing harder. Abigail lifts a hand to her shoulder to suggest they get going when Jackson appears at the counter between Madison and Miles.
Jackson: “We gonna talk about what happened?”
Abigail turns her eyes from Madison to the blonde man behind the storage counter while Miles does his best to appear smaller and fade into the background. There was something cold and vicious about Abigail’s stare but Madison’s expression keeps her from lashing out.
Abigail: “No. We aren’t Jackson.”
Jackson: “Abbi look…”
Abigail is in mid turn when the words leave his mouth and he spins around leveling a finger at his face, the outrage flashing in her eyes.
Abigail: “Don’t call me that! You don’t have the right!”
Jackson: “Abigail then!”
The big man’s patience is very quickly wearing thin. The bearded face wears a scowl and his eyebrows are pulled down.
Jackson: “Don’t you think this has gone on about long enough? What happened was before you even knew him Abigail.”
Abigail: “You betray James Jackson? You betray me.”
Jackson: “I didn’t….”
The big man draws in a deep shaking breath and his gaze moves to the window. The shot follows it to show Jema standing near a Humvee speaking with a young woman who was working under the hood. He stares for a few long moments then brings his eyes back to Abigail. This time there is no anger on his face.
Jackson: “It wasn’t what you think it was Abigail.”
Abigail: “I don’t care.”
Jackson: “Just let me….”
Abigail: “I. Don’t. Care.”
Without even waiting for him to answer again, she turns back to Madison.
Abigail: “Let’s roll out. It’s a long way up to Richard’s Bluff.”
Miles glances back when he hears their destination and pushes off the counter to follow behind Madison as she begins out after Abigail.
Miles: “You two mind if I tag along? It’s a long ride up to the pass and I’m heading up that direction myself.”
Abigail glances over at Madison who gives a shrug. It is clear she knows how Miles feels about her and knows he doesn't mean any harm. The denim clad woman snorts and waves a hand after them as she passes through the door. Miles falls in line beside Madison and takes the bag from her to carry it for her. Madison smiles and slows her strides to stay in step beside him.
Madison: “You are seriously doing runs for Vanessa now Miles?”
Miles offers a shrug and keeps his eyes on Abigail, careful to make sure she can’t hear them. He knows all too well how she feels about Vanessa.
Miles: “She pays better than just about anyone Maddie and gets very few drifters out that way. So those of us who make the trip and risk crossing into her territory and catching her on a bad day? She rewards them liberally.”
Madison: “And tends to string them up on the days she’s feeling crabby.”
Miles: “Yeah….I heard about you two barely escaping the last time you were up that way.”
Madison: “The crazy bitch wanted to crucify Abbi. Wouldn’t even let her past the gate.”
Miles snorts and shakes his head, clearly completely unsurprising by this. Around them people continued to mill about going about their daily tasks. A young woman working under the hood of a Humvee happened to look up and flashed Madison a smile. Maddie grinned and wiggled her fingers at the girl as they passed.
Abigail: “Jesus Christ, how is that thing still running?”
Madison and Miles both look up to find Abigail sitting on her bike and staring at the patchwork monster sitting across the roadway. Miles grins and sets the bag down on Madison’s seat so she can work on getting it attached to the seat behind where she rides.
Miles: “Leave her alone. She’s gotten me through more than a few tough scrapes.”
Abigail: “She’s gonna end up leaving you on the side of the road one of these days.”
Miles: “Blasphemy!”
Abigail: “And I am gonna ride by laughing when it happens.”
Abigail kicks the bike to life with Madison doing the same after her, doing her best to hold in her laughter as she does. Miles smirks a bit himself and kicks his own to life and the three of them roll out of the gate, turning in the opposite direction that the girls and Jema had come. The camera shifts in the direction they turn and catches the rest of the city in the distance with a mountain rising up far behind it in the distance.
The shot shifts to a shot of the other side of the city as the guitars of ‘Outcast” by Shinedown begin to play. The sun reflects off the glass of windows of the skyscrapers and handfuls of paper debris floats across the empty road as the roaring of engines grew louder. After a few moments, as the tempo of the music picks up, the three Scavengers on their bikes appear one by one out of the shadow of one of the larger buildings.
They come at the camera full speed and pass it one after another after another with it turning to follow behind them as they speed through the final part of the city and into the open road again. The shot shifts again to a little further down the road where two trucks and a firetruck had collided blocking the street, but the three never so much as slow down as they veer off the road onto a dirt path and down the hill. They disappear from the spot for a moment only to appear on the other side, all of them leaving the ground a few inches and landing perfectly as they continue on.
The camera comes in on Miles as he rides beside Madison and reaches out one hand, smacking her on the thigh and motions with his head off to his right. The camera follows her gaze to find a family of deer way off the road, all of them standing still with their heads up watching the trip pass.
Madison smiles in awe as Miles pushes the throttle and bolts up past her and Abigail as the three come around a curve leading upwards toward the mountain looming above them. As he passes Abigail, his hand comes off the grip and he gives her the finger and takes off. Abigail’s voice can be heard in the camera, amused.
Abigail: “Cheeky fucker.”
Madison, five yards behind Abigail, can’t help but grin as she hears Abigail’s bike rev and she bolts off after him. Madison hangs back, clearly comfortable on her bike but not nearly as comfortable as these two. The shot shifts rapidly as the song continues as Miles weaves in and out of the abandoned cars and keeps a full car length ahead of the woman in denim.
Abigail suddenly veers off the road to the side and down a dirt trail. When Miles looks back all he sees is Madison and grins. When he looks back all he sees is the back fender of Abigail’s bike coming down in front of him from the dirt road beside the asphalt road. Her left hand leaves the grip as she gives him the same one finger salute seconds before her bike bolts forward.
As the music begins to slow, the group nears a fork in the road, one leading down and the other up into the bluffs. Abigail motions with a hand to the right fork leading down and Miles honks once as he and the girls part ways with him heading down the left path heading further up the mountain.
The camera stays at a distance watching the three heading in opposite directions until Miles has disappeared from view up the mountain and the girls down it. The shot shifts to watch the two women come around a corner, a bit slower and more careful than they had made the trip out of the city. They roll down a hill, the wind howling and the faintest hints of frost chilling off the mountain above.
They roll into an empty parking area with a sign giving rules about camping in the area. The parking area is completely deserted and the girls park near a set of wooden carved benches that also serve as a barricade to keep cars from heading into the incline. Abigail climbs off first, securing her thigh holsters as she does. Madison does the same, but decides to look through the bag sitting on the back of her bike. Inside she finds cans of food, a small handful of water bottles, a box of strikeable matches and two coats of fur. Pulling on one she hands the other off to Abigail.
Madison: “No extra ammo huh?
Abigail: “You should know better than to even ask me that.”
Abigail answers with a laugh as she replaces the glock on her left thigh with a long bladed tactical knife. Once the knife is in place, she slips her arms into the fur lined coat, though unlike Madison, she doesn’t zip hers, showing the faintest hint of Sgt-At-Arms on the right breast of the Kutte she wore.
Abigail: “We were lucky to find the scraps we did the last time we were in Hessberg and even then we paid an arm and a damn leg for them.”
Madison: “Any hint of where we go from here?”
Abigail: “Jema just said Richard’s Bluff….”
Madison draws in a deep breath and blows out a stream of white smoke through her nose.
Madison: “Alright then….let’s look around.”
Madison and Abigail cross the parking lot to the pathway leading down to the camp grounds. While there was no snow on the ground yet, the chill of the area was clear by the billows of smoke exiting the pairs’ mouths and the faint frost on the plant life in the area.
The pathway down winds around a corner of the side of the mountain rock face revealing the usually empty campsite but the girls find a group of tents instead of an empty site. The tents are all grouped together near the rock face on the right most side of the fifty meter square clear site. Gear is littered around the entire site. Canteens, food, weapons and clothes are all strewn across the ground. The tents themselves are ripped to tatters with huge holes torn in all sides of the fabric.
While there are no bodies, or even body parts, blood is everywhere. On the ground, on the tents, across the supplies and splattered across the rock face making up the sites right most border. Madison stays beside and a step behind Abigail as they enter the camp grounds, both of their hands on their melee weapons though neither have not pulled them yet.
Madison: “What the hell happened here? Is this the Scav camp or Poachers?”
Abigail: “Jema said they only sent three Scavs Maddy, there are a half a dozen tents and another handful of sleeping bags. This was a poacher camp….”
Abigail crouches near one of the tents and runs her fingertips over the blade of a knife, pulling back dry fingers.
Abigail: “And it’s old….at least a couple of days.”
Madison: “Did the Scav team do this?”
Abigail motions to the supplies scattered around, at least two dozen unopened cans of food, as many bottles of water, an empty ammo box and the broken remains of a half a dozen good steel knives.
Abigail: “No...there are far too many supplies here for a poacher temp camp Maddie. The Poachers got the Scavs….”
Madison: “Then….the Ferals got the poachers?”
Abigail: “Ten or more of them? Armed no less? And proficient enough to take on a three Scav team? No….”
Madison shivers in a way that obviously isn’t about the cold and her eyes begin to scan the rocks above them in concern. Abigail is uneasy and that puts her on edge.
Abigail: “....And where are the bodies?”
Madison: “....Bodies?”
Abigail: “You’ve seen how many people killed by ferals Madison? Hundreds?”
Madison: “...More.”
Abigail: “And how many times did the bodies just….disappear?”
Madison blinks and looks around again as if looking with fresh eyes, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and fear.
Madison: “Where are the bodies?!”
Abigail looks up back the way they had come and then further up the mountain, biting her lip. Madison follows her gaze, but unable to follow her thoughts, she asks.
Madison: “What are you thinking Abbi?”
Abigail: “I’m thinking….maybe we should go and find Miles….”
Madison: “Miles….Abbi…”
Madison sighs unhappily and crosses her arms over her now fur-covered chest.
Madison: “He’s harmless Abbi. He’s not infatuated with me...there’s no need to….”
Abigail shakes her head and looks back at Madison and the look makes the younger girl pause in the middle of her sentence. Abigail wasn’t angry, she was concerned.
Abigail: “Whatever did this….”
She begins and motions to the bloody campground they were standing in.
Abigail: “Could have moved further up….”
Before she can finish her sentence, a bright flash appears on the mountainside above them. A half a second later comes the loud CRACK of a gunshot. Then a second flash and after a pause a second crack, then a third, a fourth and a fifth in rapid succession. Madison stares up at the mountain wide-eyed.
Madison: “Why would he be wasting ammo?!”
Abigail: “Maddi!”
Abigail doesn’t even bother finishing the shout. She just turns and bolts up the path leading up to the parking lot with Madison hot on her heels. The two reach the empty parking lot in no time flat. The bikes roar to life as soon as the girls mount them, tires squealing as they spin around and bolt back the way they had come at dangerously fast speeds.