» Sun Oct 17, 2010 5:05 am Chapter one
Welcoming
The water rippled as the boat toar through it. What lurked in those waters I did not know, but it always made me think. If the things on the surface were terrible as it was, maybe what was in the water could be so much worse. But if it were bad, then why hadn't they attacked the boat? It was always speculation and questions to myself. I could always just jump in the water and take a look for myself, but I knew that would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do. What with all the radiation and possible dead bodies floating in there I could get heavily sick, and eventually die. I don't think I would have even bothered putting the tip of my index finger in the water. I don't think so.
Sitting on the crude bench on the top of the barely-holding steamship, I could barely see the land that I was about to embark on. What I wasn't fond of was that it would just be me going on there, not any of my other friends or other explorers like myself. The fact I was going there to take samples of every dead thing I could find while very light-equipped made me nervous. The question to why I didn't get a partner was never answered, but maybe it was for the greater good. For all I knew.
Exploring a potentially dangerous, unknown land with a Chinese pistol, a light sniper rifle, a kitchen knife, and a rusting Kalashnikov would make me weak at one point. At the same time it would make for better agility. If I were to get in a bad situation, such as a howling beast charging at me with an axe, I could run away much more quickly because I wouldn't have much on me. Saying I had something like a missile launcher, it would heavily fatigue me, and probably end with me on the ground. Other than weapons, the only thing I had for protective armor was a radiation-resistant leather jumpsuit with a overcoat on top, and a very old gasmask. Luckily, the gasmask didn't require changing filters. And in the post-apocalyptic world, there were little to no filters left, mainly because everyone had gasmasks that didn't need the changing of a filter. The people that used ones that needed changing were out of luck.
The sailor running the boat started ringing the loud bell at his side, signaling that we were landing. The boat slowed down momentarily, then finally came to a halt. I pulled myself from the seat and trotted down to the main deck. Opening my long coat, I fiddled through the pockets inside and found my mask. I carefully slid it over my head and started breathing. While cleaning the lenses, a friend of mine, Randolph, approached me and smiled.
"Hey, good luck out there. I know you probably dread this moment, but, to make it better, take this." Randolph said, tossing me a small burlap bag, tied around the top. I turned to him and nodded.
"Thanks. See you in a week, then?" I commented, shoving the bag in my pocket.
"Right. Bye."
I crossed the plank that connected the boardwalk with the boat. It appeared to be rotting and about to snap. Even as I crossed it, it loudly creaked and moaned. I took one last look at the Red Grant, and finally walked into the misty, unknown, mysterious area that had been known to now, as Point Lookout. Soon, very soon, I would learn that around here, you would have to be reliant on your visuals. You had to be quick. And if you weren't any of these, you'd be dead.
The carnival area that had greeted me after the Red Grant had sailed off proved to be an eerie, depressing, and quite empty place. The large wheel that served as the main attraction was a home to several birds, vermin, and insects. There was not a living human in sight, only rats and seagulls. As I entered one part, it seemed that a shop used to be ran in the area. I went behind the counter and to the locker that had been busted up, and opened it. There was a dead family of possums and rotting Salisbury Steak infested with maggots, and a few random bullets laying around, but it seemed like it had already been raided of any possible goods. The cash register had nothing left in it but a lone bottle cap and an American dollar, torn and worn from the years passed. I took both and kept them in the same pocket I put the sack in.
After leaving the carnival area, I took to the swamps. From what I had heard from other people I worked with before coming here, the swamps of Point Lookout were haven to things waiting to be sampled, and was a gold mine of places to loot. But, with every good thing, there is always a downside, a catch, if you will. As the bogs were a heavily overflowing paradise for a person such as myself, there were things. Things guarding the treasures. Radiation-poisoned, mutated, deformed, cannibalistic humans. Roving gangs of smugglers who were completely hostile. And of course, the Ghouls. But these enemies were everywhere, and I didn't think I could make it with only the weapons I had. It seemed to me like it would be stealth, nothing else.
The only thing that had stopped me from entering the swamps was a bridge. An old car bridge that had several things to loot from on it, but a perfect spot for an ambush. I hadn't seen anyone nearby, but the danger was high. I would have to do it anyway. I slowly crouched down and approached it from the side. When I got on the bridge, I felt a sense of victory, though it wasn't over yet. I scrambled through the shelves on the side of the bridge that held bountiful amounts of medical supplies and ammunition. Storing it all in the satchel slung over my back I made my way out. But before I could leave, I heard voices, getting closer, and closer. I had to hide, quick, but I didn't know where to hide. Before it was too late, I quickly went into a locker and shut it.
I peered through the slits in the locker door to see what, or who was coming. It was two men. They were both hideous, covered in large boils and tumors. One had been as much as seven feet tall, while the other about five to six feet tall. The tall one had a very swollen arm that had puss oozing out of the pores. He was bald and his two stained teeth hung out onto his bottom lip. The other was a bit thinner, but still kind of chubby. His arms and legs looked normal, his stomache was hanging out, and his neck was enormous. It had swollen up all the way to his bottom lip. His eyelids were practically inside-out and his lips badly cracked and bleeding. The taller one had an axe, the shorter one had a rifle. They were now on the bridge.
I could barely make out what they were saying, but it was something about finding someone who had escaped. The short one picked up a half-empty whiskey bottle and downed what was left, while the tall one came to the locker I was in. He said he left his 'stash' in the same locker I was in. This was it, I thought. He would open the locker, see me, and destroy me with his axe. I couldn't even run away. All I could do was prepare my handgun and wait. As he put his 'good' hand on the handle, the door slightly opened. Before it opened all the way, something shot him. It shot him through the head and sprayed brain matter and blood through the cracks and got on my mask.
I could make out who had shot him. The man was wearing goggles, had a respirator, and appeared to be a tribal, with the mohawk and paintings on his body and the cloth draqed over his body. He also had several necklaces around his neck, and strips of cloth tied around the arms and legs. The large mutated man that would have opened the locker shouted in agony, and cursed the man out. He turned around and ran to him, but fell with another shot to the head. Before the other mutated man could even bring up his gun, a bullet zipped through the side of his head. Slowly opening the locker, I came out with my hands up. The tribal still pointed his gun at me.
"Look, I don't want any trouble. Just let me go and I won't do anything, I swear.." I said, loud enough for him to hear. He came closer.
"What are you doing here? If it weren't for me you'd be dead now, on a spit roasting over a fire," he shouted.
"I'm just taking samples for research, that's all." I said. He slowly lowered his rifle and beckoned.
"Come with me, you aren't safe out here."
***
We stood outside stone wall which surrounded a church, as it seemed. The tribal went to the metal gate that had served as the only entrance, and pressed the button on an intercom I hadn't before noticed. The man on the other end talked like he was brain-dead, or drunk. The tribal who had brought me there had responded and the gate opened. He grabbed my arm and pulled me in before the gate shut once more. Outside, there were more tribals sitting around, chewing on strange fruit. The tribal I followed pushed his arms against the wooden doors of the church. I immediately smelled sweat and vomit, which wasn't pleasant for a person wearing a gasmask. Nobody was wearing a gasmask so I assumed the air was safe to breathe. Once I took off the gasmask, the stench grew stronger, and made me sick. But I eventually got used to it.
The tribal took me all the way to the end of the church, where a man was sitting in a chair behind a desk. The two talked for a moment and the man sitting glared at me a few times. He nodded to the tribal and dismissed us. The tribal brought me to a corner where there was a piece of cardboard over an old matress.
"You're going to stay here for the night, the leader insists. You rest and we'll make you food for when you wake up. By the way, my name is Leindel," he said. I sat down on the matress and looked at him.
"Thanks for what happened, and bringing me here. I'm Grady." I replied. Leindel nodded and walked off, before I laid down and went to sleep.
