P Bad Luck? Or Maybe Good?

[Universe]

Imported post - written by glein​

Day 54 since Collapse

The pounding of boots on muddied concrete echoed through the small town. It wasn't quite abandoned, as evidenced by the occasional gunshot that cracked into echoing over those, muffled though by the ongoing downpour of rain. But for the figure in heavy clothing that was running, they were focused more on the barking and baying of the trio of hounds chasing after him. All three dogs looked like they hadn't had a decently filling meal in some time, the bones on their ribs beginning to show.


The figure slipped on a particularly wet patch of sidewalk, grunting as they impacted the ground, but quickly scrambling to get to their feet as they resumed running, having lost too much ground from that fall. Spotting a fence, the figure changed course and ran for it, jumping up as high as they could, and began to scramble up, hissing in pain as they tried to push the barbed wire down enough so that they could swing up and over, even as the trio of canines jumped and barked, one beginning to dig beneath.


Crying out in pain as they finally got over, but landing with a thud just on the other side of the fence, getting a pained yelp from the dog that'd been digging, but that only encouraged all three now to dig as the figure pushed themselves back to their feet and run once more further into the construction yard for what looked to be a nice multi-story building that's been left to never be finished after the whole world turned for the worse and collapsed.


The abandoned construction yard had seemed like a good idea at the time, offering cover from the rain, even if the open air structure didn’t do much for warmth. Being dry was good enough for right now, as the man searched his pack to take another accounting of the bag’s contents. He had been about ready to set up camp under the concrete when he heard the barking. Flipping the flap back over and doing the clasp with his free hand, his pistol was drawn with the other. Hefting the bag, the robed figure could be seen running past through the yard of the construction area, barking and metallic rustling coming from where he had appeared from.


Keeping low, he followed them only slightly, keeping close to the pillars of the structure as to not be seen. They seemed harmless enough, but could never be sure, so he would wait to see what followed him. It sounded like dogs, but some of the things heard in the recent nights left imagination for other frightening possibilities. So with his weapon gripped and ready to take aim at what came, Ivanoff waited.


Douglas grunted as they tripped yet again, splashing into a deep pile of mud. Fighting to pull himself out of the pile, he was left continuing to fight his way out of it, then he couldn't help but cry out in pain as one of the dogs finally caught up and clamped down on his ankle.


"FUCK!!!" Douglas yelled, soon using his other leg to kick the dog in the head, hitting it repeatedly before yet another of the trio of dogs grabbed ahold of him, beginning to pull him out of the mud, growling and shaking, trying to break something important so they could better chow down.


Now he was left trying to hit them with his hands, trying desperately to free himself now.


One of the dogs had been dropped with a growling pop of the pistol, but the man had not been expecting there to be three of them. He was adjusting as the other two were pouncing on the robed figure, the trigger squeezed, then aim adjusted left before the next trigger pull. If they had not been so close, blinded by hunger during their hunt, perhaps they might have reacted more to the gunfire. Coming out of the skeleton of the would have been building, Ivanoff cautiously walked out from the shade, approaching the figure now laying between the pair of dead mongrels. A glimpse at their slightly raising torso, made it seem like they were alive at least, despite not willing to get close just yet.


“You still kicking? Get up slowly if you can, and keep your hands where I can see them.”, he commanded firmly, aim trained on the stranger as he slowly approached. He heard nothing else coming, or saw any other persurers, but he didn’t want to stay here after sending off three loud signals of their presence here. The rain might muffle it, but he wasn’t taking the chance this close to a town.


Douglas was trying to get his breathing back into some semblance of control, but it was hard since there were now two dead dogs with bullet holes in their head, and the man who shot them now standing over him, pointing a pistol at him.


"I... okay, okay..." He mutters, trying to push himself to his feet, but groaning in pain as his shins cried out, telling him to stop with how well the dogs had worried upon them. But he pushes himself up, swaying in pain as he fought to ignore the pain, and not doing a very good job. But he was also raising his hands, his heavy clothing obscuring any real details about him. Even his hands were clothed heavily. Of course, all of this was coated in a very hefty layer of mud.


Ivanoff reached for something from his belt, coming back with a zip tie he kept for these rare situations. “Alright, hands behind your head so I can bind them. Then I'm going to pat search you. Not that I'm expecting honesty, but declaring any weapons before I do would go a long way for your situation.” He kept the gun ready, stepping up behind before guiding them gently to their knees, then binding their wrists. After, he patted the figure down limb by limb, then across the rest of their body. There was a pause though as one of his passes came back with a smear of blood, then again once he got to a couple of other areas.


“Well at least i’m not the only one having a rough day it seems.”, Ivanoff said to himself quietly, but still enough to be heard in his somewhat sarcastic tone.


Douglas was grateful to be off his feet, even if it meant he was pushed to his knees. He couldn't exactly fight back right now, and the only thing even passing as a weapon was a pretty well worn down folding knife. Not even a gun or ammo on him. There were some food bars, and a half empty bottle of water, but that was it.


While being patted down, Douglas couldn't help himself, as he soon began to have a ugly coughing fit, the sound painful and unpleasant. "Sorry... I think I caught, uhh, fuck, uhh, pnumonia? Or whatever a really ugly cold is called." He said, since he couldn't think of anything that'd cause similar symptoms. Then again, sickness wasn't something he knew. He was just a guy who worked in fast food for fucks sake, or did, before everything went to shit.


The knife was a simple if disappointing find, the rest making it clear that this guy was so very sadly unprepared. The bottle was topped off, only being a quarter out of his own canteen, before everything save for the knife was put back where it was found. “Alright, get up, we need to get out of the open. Follow me to that structure over there, and hurry, I don’t like standing out in the rain longer then needed.”


Groaning as he struggled to his feet, he stumbled after the man who saved him... if it wasn't likely he was now a prisoner of the very same man. "Fuck..." Douglas muttered, lowering his head as he walked, before dropping to his butt once he was pointed to a pillar to sit at. "So.. what now? You kill me, take my stuff?" He asked, confused why the man had refilled his bottle if he planned to kill him.


“Would have been pointless to do if I was just giving it back. Besides, it would have been less trouble to shoot you and leave you in the mud, or even just let the dogs have you and find some place else to camp.” Ivanoff’s answer was rather blunt, even as he set his pack back down where it had been earlier, then stepping over and collecting his spent casings. Taking a seat across from his prisoner, the man started to get a look at these injuries, the dogs, and something else had left from the glimpse he had gotten.


With a tad bit of manhandling, he looked at the ankle first, being the lighter one thanks to their shoes, “This will be fine with just some neosporin and a bandage.” was all he said on it. Then getting a bit closer, looking closer at the other two, the bite being a little ugly but not terrible. The cuts on the other arm were a bit more significant, and perhaps a bit more attention was needed. Looking idly at the blood on his hand, and the tiny trail that had been left on the way in from these wounds, he couldn’t very well be taking him along without taking care of them. “Alright, so this is how this is going to go. I’m going to treat these, but you are sticking with me for the night. Tomorrow when the rain has passed, we will go on our way, even. Understood?”


"Yeah... yeah. Fine." Douglas said, wincing as his limbs were treated. "Fuck, how do you know all this? Were you military?" He asked, grateful to be patched up, at least a little bit. Of course, another wracking cough soon made its way through him. "Fuck... why is it only when I'm not fucking running for my life that I cough?" He quietly mutters, once the coughing fit was over. Thankfully he was wearing enough layers around his head that there was little chance of Henry catching anything, but still.


"Sorry... Sorry." He said, gasping and leaning back against the pillar.


“Shit, maybe I was doing the dogs a favor with a cough like that. You’re not going to… like die on me are you, would suck having a patient croak after working on them.” Ivanoff gave a small smirk, clearly being a smartass, even if being a bit morbid in doing so. Depositing everything back into the bag, along with the casings, he stepped over to where rain was water falling off the levels above them. “Guard to answer your question, so not quite, but was training enough it seemed.”, was all he would say as he used the falling water to wash his hands as he gave the answer.


Once done and his hands were dried off on his jeans, he took a seat next to his bag, before pulling out a bit of hand sanitizer from a small bottle and rubbing it in. “Seeing as the rain is only getting heavier now, I doubt we’re going anywhere, so we’ll have to risk camping here for the night. Think you can move for just a bit longer?”


Douglas nodded. "I think so..." He said, shaking his arm to get the sleeve back down. HIs skin had been extremely pale, but one could probably explain it considering how much clothing he was wearing. Same with his leg. But Henry might have noticed some extremely dark patches, not much more than a nail's head in size, but they were there. Once that was done, he pushed himself up, and, used the pillar behind him as a brace to do so. Taking a step, he couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped him as he did so.


"Yeah... Yeah I think so." He said, nodding. "You, uhhh, know a building we can go to?" He asked, not realizing what Henry was meaning by 'camping'.


The guardian simply pointed a finger up, “we’re just going up the next couple of floors. If we can find a room to block off, or with at the very least, only one way in. We can make it safe for the night, or as much as possible in a world like this. Don’t worry, I’ll try to avoid any obvious closets.” With his own sigh, Ivanoff got up, shouldering his back before coming over, giving the robed figure a hand. With the help, the steps were slow going, but they were not in any rush and it was at least somewhat easier this way.


Once they were on the third floor, as bare as the others for the most part, save for construction supplies and half done framework. He pointed to a room that had three small windows along one wall, was on the opposite side the rain was hitting, and looked to have only one door. Stepping in, he could have only guessed what the intended purpose would have been, but it mattered not now other then fitting their needs. Helping his companion down against the wall, the bag was set down before walking out of the room for a few moments, then returning with two pallets of material on a pallet jack. Ivanoff backs it into the doorway, blocking it as well as it even could, before pulling a roll of tarp from where he left it on the stack, before hanging it from a pipe a bit high over the doorway.


“Good news… It will keep dogs out, not so sure about everything else though. Will give us plenty of warning though.”, was all the raven haired man would say, before taking his own seat nearby and starting to unpack some things.


With a breath of exhaustion, Douglas just let himself slump fully in the room. "I still keep hoping that I'll wake up and this will all prove to be a bad dream... Then I could go back to playing games, and listening to my collection of music while doing so..." He mutters, relaxing as much as he could, considering his hands were still bound, and his life was up to the whims of this apparent savior. "But since it doesn't seem that's gonna happen... I just... I just suppose I'll have to keep trying to find something to help... But the stores are getting pretty threadbare now..." He says, sighing.


“Dunno whether I should be flattered to be in someone’s dreams, or disappointed I’m not the protagonist of my own.”, Ivanoff commented with a dry chuckle, as he set up a small gas burner stove he attached to a small fuel canister. As he pulled other things that looked like part of a mess kit for camping, he humored additional conversation. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can find one of those chargers for phones that uses batteries. Or even a solar one if you’re lucky. There’s also the option of downgrading, but I can’t guarantee any decent selection of music.”


Douglas shook his head. "Yeah, I think everyone else had the same idea... I've been unable to find any... And food that isn't expired is getting harder to find in the stores." He pointed out. "Fuck, I wish I'd had a chance... no, I wouldn't have thrown it away to game more... or get more hours at that damned fast food job I worked..." He muttered, sighing in defeat. "Now look at me, barely surviving."


“Well you aren’t dead, that’s a plus. Not really sure what else I can say beyond that bud.” With it all setup, Ivan began sorting through the various foods he had managed to salvage. Generally he went through whatever was given a shorter shelf life, so anything fresh -ish, or canned. He had a pair of apples, as well as a few tins of food, opting to save his dried and survival rations for last. Holding two cans up, both clearly for some kind of meat each, save for their faded labels making what kind unclear. “Pick one, and don’t worry, they aren’t old. Labels got worn from sitting in the pack from hiking everywhere.”, he offered in explanation.


Looking between the two cans, Douglas ended up picking the one on the left. "Yeah well, living sure hasn't felt good so far. Got this damned cough, which only seems to be most common after a surge of adrenaline, and I've not had a good bite to eat in... god, over a month." He said, huffing like it was some kind of insult for his life turning the way it had thus far. "Sorry. I don't mean to offend." He says, raising his hands in a placating manner, even if entirely unneeded.


“Meh.”, was all Ivanoff gave in reply before starting to open the cans, curious at who got what. “Apple cooked, or raw? I tend to cook mine just to be safe.”, he added before finally getting the cans open. Seems Douglas had gotten lucky and gotten the canned chicken, while Ivan had gotten the canned turkey. They were both heated on the burner, so as at the least, they weren’t eating cold cans of meat. Once done, he would cook his apple, adding the contents of his can with it, simplifying the meal to one dish.


"I guess cooked? I mean, with how everything else has gone, I've been trying to avoid things that were straight raw... even I know that much." He said, nodding.


“Mixed, or unmixed? Yeah and before you say it’s weird, ancient tradition used to eat strange dishes. Like apples and cabbage, with meat, or carrots instead. And with the way things are… yeah, get used to weird dishes, because hot meals are rare.” Ivanoff knew it was a small tangent, but it was something he’d grown accustomed to in his studies on prepping. This guy knew nothing, and squat, so hopefully some of it was at least helpful.


Douglas shrugged. "Whichever's easier? I mean, I'm gonna be trying to figure out how to eat with my hands zip-tied together." He pointed out, though doubted anything would come of it beyond this guy getting laugh at his expense. "Oh, I'm Douglas... Just so, ya know, we don't have to go 'hey you'..."


Once the apple was cooked, he mixed in the chicken, just to make it easier. At the same time he mulled over being freely offered their name, and the difficulties of eating with bound hands. He was really starting to question his own sanity by trusting this person, but he had to be honest, they were going to die without him. After their meals were now both ready, Ivanoff stood with a sigh, before stepping over and flipping out their own knife. “Hands please. And the name is Henry.”


"Thanks Henry." Douglas said, offering his hands towards the guy who was clearly prepped for this whole mess. Once his hands were free, he took the offered can and plastic fork. "So, what now?" He asked, carefully blowing on the chunks of food he forked out of the can.


Retaking his place, Henry lifted his tin of food with a hot pad, enjoying the heat the meal gave off. “Now we eat, rest, then sleep. Going to want to move away from this town tomorrow, and see if the next town is any better, or at least able to point to someplace where more supplies can be scavenged.” It was the most solid plan he had right now, and honestly, the only bit of one he had in general. With the collapse, you never knew where it was safe anymore, for any number of new reasons, whether it be unnatural, environmental, or even just people showing their worst sides. Digging into the meal, he savored the strange yet satisfying flavors of hot food, involuntarily giving a hum as he did without thinking.


Douglas just nodded, quietly eating his food. It wasn't like he knew what else to talk to Henry about. It sure seemed like they came from very different 'worlds' of society. What was there to talk about in this situation? For all Douglas knew, Henry didn't even like video games.


Something else was handed to Douglas, an empty canteen, with a canvas cover over the body. It was the same size as the other one he had pulled out before to refill his bottle, and was what looked like painted green, over what used to be a pink camo pattern where it could be seen in tiny slivers. “Take that, your bottle is likely to wear out easily, or break. That also holds almost four times as much, so it will last you longer.”, Henry added in brief explanation before getting back to his food.


"Oh, uhhh, thanks?" Douglas said, raising an eyebrow at the hint of pink on the canteen. Still, he figured he'd just do what he could. Maybe it'd hold up longer and better than the bottle he had... It was the seventh one he'd had to grab after the previous ones basically failed. But as it was, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. This guy was helping him significantly, just with these little moments of kindness being offered.


“Take good care of it, they’re not easy to get, and it belonged to my wife. Now on a less stern note, granola, or nuts?” Henry had finished eating and was already wiping down his tin, and mess kit before stashing it back into the bag. Careful in making sure to pack it all carefully, and as efficiently as it had been before, not really adding much to that slight bomb he dropped about the canteen.


Douglas smiled, not that it was visible in his clothing. "I'll just have one of mine... I think I got the blueberry still..." He says, fishing in his pockets to pull out one of the food bars he had, really, just healthy snacks in most cases, but they were certainly better to go to than most other stuff that could last just as long. "Oh, guess I already ate the blueberry... Apparently I'll have the strawberry one then." He said, putting away the other ones and beginning to unwrap the packaging.


Trying to avoid going through more protein then needed, Henry opted for the granola bar, crunching into it. Munching into it, the taste reminded him of when days were calmer, and hiking was a hobby, not a survival strategy. “No offense due, but you are a mess. You must have some stupidity good dumb luck, or one hell of a guardian angel, to have survived even this long.”, he commented before sipping some water from his remaining canteen, perhaps coming off a bit blunt with his comment.


"If I have a guardian angel, they sure picked a strange time to decide to actually do anything." Douglas grumbled, pausing a moment in his slow nibbling of his bar. "If it's good dumb luck, it's picky as fuck because I've had all sorts of things just go wrong..." He said, sighing. "First nearly getting into a car accident when the whole thing started... Then coated in some kind of ash as I fled my home...." He muttered, remembering that first two weeks of everything going wrong.


“Well you aren’t dead… Also strange ash is probably the reason you have those marks showing up. Best keep an eye on it, could be some form of radiological infection, or biochemical compound.” Henry rubbed his lightly bearded chin, thinking about that, but having not really said much on it until now. He wasn’t too concerned, knowing full well, if it was contagious that he’d have seen more people with the same signs, or already had it. “I don’t think it’s killing you anyways, at least not right now, given you can still run like a bat out of hell.”, the man added before taking another crunchy bite of his granola.


"Yeah well, running a lot over the last few weeks helped... Of course, after every one I've done, I've been left in a coughing fit... And on occasion, not even then... Hence why I think it's like pneumonia." Douglas replied, pointedly ignoring the comment about the marks on his body.


“Guess it’s good you keep your mouth covered then, I don't want that shit, but that being said. Something tells me it isn’t that, because Pneumonia is fluid in the lungs, and your coughs haven’t sounded wet, or complained about coughing anything up. So I don’t know.” It was an easy assumption, but so far sounded something like a lung infection, or at the least irritation to Henry. He had some light training as a corpsman, but never got to finish due to the collapse, otherwise he likely could be more helpful on the matter.


Douglas shrugged. "I suppose. I'm not a doctor. Just a guy." He said, sighing as he settled back against the wall he was laying against. "But I'll trust the prepper. Since you've clearly been doing well with all this hell." He mused with a sad chuckle.


“If this looks like doing well, something really has gone wrong in your case. I’m barely scraping by.”, the other man answered with a sigh, wondering if all unprepared nerds were this jaded. With his bar finished, Henry set the wrapper aside, before closing up his bag and adjusting it into the corner to lay against. Laying on his side, he rested his head on the rough bag, “Certainly isn’t cozy camping.”


"Considering near as I know, I'm the only guy from my group of friends to survive this long, couldn't tell you if this is 'wrong' or 'right'." Douglas mused. "So we've got very different ideas of what 'well' looks like." He pointed out.


Taking a moment, he raised a hand and rubbed the front of his neck, as though it was a little sore. Considering the roughness of those coughs, it wouldn't be too surprising.


“That much is very clear, as here, take these.”, Henry said in agreement before pulling a small bag of what looked like hard candies out. Before tossing them over to Douglas, then settling in fully for sleeping. “Cough drops, so the cough doesn’t give us away.”, he added in explanation as he pulled his hood down just a tad more, and began trying to sleep.


Nodding, he took one of the wrapped hard candies, and grimaced at the lemon flavor as he popped one in to start sucking on it, grateful for at least a little relief from the pain from all the coughing he'd been doing. Of course, seeing what Henry was doing, Douglas settled in to try and get some sleep himself. He wasn't sure how well he'd sleep, but then again, this was nicer than some of the places he'd slept since the collapse.


The rain would fall heavily through the night, even some light thunder and lighting at occasion, but for the most part nothing seemed to disturb the site. As much as he would have liked to have had watches, with only two, and one of them being a bit incompetent. Well, Henry opted to just sleep, putting faith in their half janked form of defense in the doorway. Thankfully the pair would not be disturbed, Henry waking as he felt the wistful son bleed through the window that sat open in the wall.


Grumbling with a few stretches, before doing a few more thoroughly, he stepped over and rustled Douglas. “Hey, time to get up Dug, it’s time to go.”, was all he’d say as he woke him as firmly as safely as possible, before walking back over and collecting his own pack.


With a start, Douglas awoke as he was shaken awake. Shooting straight up suddenly, he groaned and clutched his head as the blood rushed to it from the action. "Oooooggh.." He grumped out, not used to this despite the near 2 months of jolting awake in similar fashion. Looking around, he expected things to be going horribly.... But instead was greeted with the rain having stopped, though it was still heavily overcast, and Henry busying packing things up. Pushing himself up, Douglas stretch, feeling his muscles painfully complain about the absolutely unforgiving concrete floor he'd slept on, but better that he feel that pain than never wake again.


"So, what now?" He asked, taking the time to pop another of the lemon cough drops while he was at it.


“That’s only a question you can answer. Although it is a bit earlier then intended, I did say we would go our separate ways. So what do you want to do?”, Henry answered as he stood with his pack on once more, looking at Douglas expectantly for his answer. Some part of him wanted the guy to follow him like the puppy he was expecting, and figured that’s what he would be asked if it was okay to, but the man also wanted to bail on him. His instincts said he was okay, but his survival knowledge said he was too great of a risk, for such a liability. To put it bluntly, his survivor and human mindsets were at odds, and he hoped Douglas’s answer would give closure to at least one of them.


Douglas looked around, and considered that. On one hand, he should stick with this guy. He knew a lot, clearly, and was more practically minded than he himself could claim to be currently... But he also didn't want to be a drain. Which, with his lack of knowledge and experience, he clearly was.


"I'm not sure. Eventually, I mean, inevitably, someone's gonna hafta start actually setting up places to live again... And as nice as these houses are... They're too obvious. Too blatant, and frankly, not as useful as they might have been before now." He muttered, looking around out the windows, and leaned on the sill itself. Was his voice softer? Maybe the cough drops were helping a fair bit. "Especially with their utilities being nil. Fuck. I know how to put a settlement together in the abstract, but that's useless!" He railed, punching the wall next to him, only to cry out in pain and shake his hand with a whimper at his stupid act.


“So, you want to be a homesteader, and a survivalist, well you’ve got a long way to go. Rule number one, should definitely be dont punch walls in your case.” A small snicker of a chuckle left Henry at the man’s own foolishness, before patting him on the shoulder. He started to move the stacks out of the way though, adding as he did, “I can teach you how, and whatever else you need to know to not get yourself offed. But I need a definitive answer, Dug, because I can’t promise an easy path, but I can promise one that can get you on your own feet as a survivor. And who knows, maybe a couple of guys in the shit like us, can make something of all this bullshit someday.”


"Yeah, but what good's the abstract if I don't know how to actually make it happen? It's not like a game where I can click a unit and tell them to do a thing." Douglas muttered, sighing as he walked over and began to help 'open' their little hole in the building to let them out. "And I know I'm just gonna be a waste and a drain on you no less. Especially if you have to keep dragging me out of my stupid messes." He pointed out aloud for both of them.


“Then I won’t drag you out unless absolutely necessary, you can work on foraging, and setting up more of a camp when I do runs. Now are you going to answer, or what, because we really can’t stay here too long with the racket we made yesterday.” Henry was starting to get impatient, he needed an answer with confidence, not a loop around of uncertainty. They were at risk, and every minute was life in this hell hole.


"Fine. Fuck. Fine. I'll come with you. If only because I'm not sure I'll be lucky enough to find another person to save my ass if I get jumped by something nastier than a pack of wild dogs." Douglas said, wishing he hadn't lost his backpack when he had to run. It had far more than he had on him now... But he wasn't even sure where it was in relation to them now.


“Alright, cool. So before we leave, we need to gather a few sheets of this tarp, and some cord, or rope. Should be a decent bit of it around this site, and can use it to make a couple of simple tents. Just bundle it with some rope, or cord, and you can carry it like a pack.” As if by example, once he had taken the sheet of tarp down from the pipe, began rolling it up before handing it to Douglas. They may not have tents yet, but this would definitely be a good start to something comparable. “Also is there anything you stashed, because we might as well get it now with how light your packing”.


Douglas shrugged. "I had a pack with some more food, and a few odds and ends. One of which is kind of sentimental, but pretty useless. I just don't know where it is from here. I wasn't exactly watching where I was running." He said, gathering up the things. "I'd been running about... I dunno, ten, fifteen minutes when you saved me?"


Given the direction he had come from, and that time frame of running, he knew Dug had been in town at least when he dropped it. “Any other details you can think of? Specific kind of building, store, or landmark? I’ve been to this town before, so I have a chance of finding it for you if I know where to look roughly”.


Douglas thought about it. "Uhhh, it was near a park. There was a strip mall nearby. And a bunch of houses. Most were a kind of beige, with one being an off red? Maybe pink?" Douglas said, trying to recollect what had been around him. "I had been grabbing a few things to try and make a better frame for my pack, not that I know how to do so, but hell, was worth a shot."


Henry figured he knew where that area was, and could probably find it as long as it hadn’t been looted yet. The dogs were likely living around there, which would have hopefully deterred any prior, and just hoped none had moved in already with them gone. “Alright, look after my pack for a bit, and I’ll run into town and find it if it's still there. Give me about an hour at the most, and I’ll come back if I don’t find it before then.”, he said before handing his pack over to the man too, to look after for a bit.


Douglas nodded, taking the pack and settling in to wait. He wasn't sure where to go, and as much as he was tempted to peek through the contents of the bag... It was probably better he not. Mostly cause he didn't want to piss off the guy after all. But it'd be nice to get the heavy machete he had with his stuff... He just hadn't had time to pull it out before the dogs were nearly on top of him.


As said, Henry was gone for nearly an hour, the only sign of activity at some point being two distant gunshots. But as the hour approached, a grumbling Henry would reappear, “I swear, clear out one pest, and another moves in. No one found the bag, but a couple of dirty scavvers were already starting to prowl with the dogs gone. If you got the tarp and stuff, let’s get the fuck out of here in case there’s more.”


With that, the man traded bags, shouldering his once again. Grabbing another roll of tarp on their way out and fastening it to his pack like a bedroll, the two would be off. Henry, as they traveled, directed Douglas, pointing out that roads were the best guides to travel, but that he should always stay a ways into the tree line to avoid being spotted. Never cross open fields unless necessary, and never linger anywhere you’ve made a lot of racket.


Trying to absorb all this information, even as he wasn't quite as capable as Henry, Douglas was definitely at the "I'm an Idiot" stage of survival, but he wasn't "I'm an idiot who thinks they know shit." That basically meant he would get killed early. He was trying to learn, trying to adjust, trying to actually take what was being offered by the survivalist.


He would occasionally scratch at the bandages, but was often chastised by Henry for making it take longer to heal by doing such, even if he never took off the bandages or clothing to scratch at the injuries.


“You’re going to irritate it, and that will cause blisters. Which A. open your skin to further infection, and B. spread it in the fluids they release when scratch open. So stahp it damnit!”, Henry growled at Douglas for itching at them. He grumbled at it, even though he knew most people never bothered to learn that kind of stuff anyways. Maybe this is what being a dad felt like, something he sadly never got to experience with his late wife before her passing.


They trekked through the woodlands for a bit once they got closer to a smaller village, one that was a small smattering of buildings around a T section main street. The area was also hilly on one side, a large field off to one side of the branching road, while the other was dominated by a pond and trees. It was a decent location for now, and wouldn’t see much foot traffic, other then in passing.


Douglas sighed yet again at Henry's pointing out why he should stop scratching, but damn it, they itched more than any other time he'd gotten scratched in a similar level of pain! Still, they soon were looking over the town, and Douglas wondered if there was anything worthwhile... Maybe some food in the general store he could see down there? Oh, or maybe some better cold weather clothes?


"So, what's the plan?" He asked, glancing over at Henry who had pulled out a pair of binoculars and was scanning the horizon, not the town. Henry had been given Douglas some pointers on the machete he carried. But was told as soon as they could find a newbies pistol, he'd be getting that. The... 'training' tool for him handling such a thing had been less than stellar, by both men's accounts.


Of course, he'd gotten the tips and help on building a proper frame to help hold his backpack, so it wasn't digging quite as much into his shoulders now at least. And with the tarps rolled up on it, it made it look more like a walking supply crate than a framed pack.


“Small places like that, nah, likely picked clean entirely. It will be very scarce. But it does have a well, which is sealed with a pump. That’s a much safer bet of a water supply we can make a short hike to, compared to what might be in any slow creaks here.” Henry never stopped scanning the tree lines, looking for any sign of deer stands, or even a trail. Any sort of sign other then the now dying farm field, of things that could be of interest, whether for good or worse. Any of those were prime interests for hunters, and while being this far from anywhere significant meant less people, hunters were still a concern.


“We can search it later once we have a camp setup, I’m just worried about who might possibly come to the area. Outside of the rare traveler passing through to bigger scavenging sources, we might get hunters every so often.” Spotting one, he handed the binos to Douglas, and pointed to a roughly very specific spot in the treeline. After a few minutes grumbling and adjusting, the other man would see the deer stand made of wood and log.


After getting the binocular's set correctly, Douglas saw what Henry was talking about. "Any way to tell if it's occupied currently? And doesn't the pump need electricity?" He asked, watching the stand for several moments but seeing no movement from it, not that he was sure he'd notice it even with him seeing it outright. Weren't they designed to make it hard for hunters to be spotted while in it?


"And I'm not sure if trying to take over a place like this is a good idea, at least for a camp. Seems to be a bit, well, much for two people to hold. Maybe if there were more of us, sure..." Douglas muttered, handing the binos back.


“Because the town isn’t the goal, it’s our landmark. And pumps have been around since before electricity was invented. It’s a pneumatic pump, using the pressure of the pump by hand, to pull water up.” Taking the binos back, they were packed into the pack before looking over the town from their slight vantage. “Only way is to creep up on it, but the risk is not worth the lack of reward, so we leave it be.”, Henry added before looking deeper into the trees behind them, and up the hill. Their best bet would be to follow the hill up and then look around for a decent patch to start their makeshift tents. He patted Douglas on the shoulder to follow, before starting to make his way up the hill into the trees once more.


Douglas tried to 'roll around' as Henry did without sticking out too much, but sadly, being how he was, couldn't help but push himself up a bit above the lip of the hill they'd been hiding at. It was only by the sheerest margin of luck that the hiss of the bullet passing overhead happened just after Douglas had finished the movement. "SHIT! Did someone seriously just shoot at us?!" Douglas hiss-yelled as Henry had been working with him on, scurrying down the hill as fast as he could without getting on his hands and knees, or even to his feet to do so.


The crack had been heard a moment later from the shot, Henry not expecting it, but figuring the deer stand had just made the decision for them in its case. Thankfully downhill was much faster then uphill, and bolt action hunting rifles being slow in non militarily trained hands. Another whiz as they were half way down the slope, having come through the gap in the trees, and narrowly missing as it clipped a branch. By the time another round was cycled, they were just coming up on the houses, the round this time clipping the mortar of a house and ricocheting against Henry’s arm.


He cursed from the sting as he pulled Douglas against the side of the house. “Shit!”, he hissed as he examined the tear in his jacket sleeve, and the bit of blood that was starting to moisten the leather, as well as fabric underneath. “At least he’s a hunter and not a sniper, because those likely wouldn’t have missed.”


"There's a difference!?" Douglas asked, reaching for Henry's pack to grab the medical kit that he had strapped onto the bag, and getting out the bandage and some of the alcohol carefully applied onto the fabric, before applying it onto his arm so that Henry could wrap it properly.


There was another snap of mortar breaking as whoever was shooting at them tried to push them out of their cover. Douglas couldn't help but wince as the impact occurred, not sure if he should duck down or bolt out. But he also remembered Henry telling him that solid cover was invaluable. And he was starting to see just why. There was a fifth shot, and Douglas expected to hear yet another shot at the same 'cadence' previously... but it was taking longer and longer... Almost a full minute later came that sixth shot Douglas had been expecting.


"What was that gap in the shots?"


Mulling it over as Douglas patched his arm, the long break likely signaled a reload, and five shots being to be the indicated capacity. “Good, they reloaded, and they’re an amateur. Five shot clips, and as long as the reloaded took, likely mag and not internal. Dug… This is not going to be fun, but they might have just made the trouble worth it.”, he finally said as they waited, debating whether to risk moving up or wait their ammo out. There was no telling how much that was, and waiting gave the shooter time to either flee, or move into a new position. “Gonna bound in three… two…. One..”


At the end of the count after another shot hitting the brick, Henry made a mad dash to the house on the other side of the street. The next round was a bit more frantic, hitting the shingles above a window on the side of the house he now took cover behind. “Dug, wait for the hit, then run on the next bolt. Move to my house after I move to the next.”, Henry called over.


Douglas nodded, wincing as the next round hit, and began running, diving behind a car in the middle of the road, covering his head as he did so, with a bullet pinging off the front of it, as though they expected it to go through. Not that Doug was aware that the engine block was the safest place to hide behind on a car if it was unarmored. With that, he scrambled back to his knees, and waited for Henry to move forward.


Henry knew that was another reload if his hunch was right, and booked it full sprint for a house further away this time. He was going to zig zag down the street between houses as they did this, hoping to get the field by the time they spent the last magazine. Signaling for Douglas to hold after his estimate for the reload was up, Henry pretended like he was going to run out again, before hopping back around the corner, rewarded by a wooden thunk against the house followed by a rifle crack.


With that crack, Douglas sprinted for the house Henry had been hiding behind, but there wasn't a shot. Did they not see him? Or were they focused on the guy who clearly knew what he was doing? Douglas didn't bother thinking too long about it. Instead he focused on getting his breathing under control, only to be left in one of those damnable coughing fits.


“Just rest, don’t push yourself. I’ll lead the charge from here.”, Was all Henry would say before preparing something, grabbing some pot next to him before tossing it out. It however, did not bait a shot from the shooter, but he also followed it a second after as he ran low towards the next house. This however, did elicit a shot from the shooter, and was a decent bit more accurate as he got near the field. The round through the window just next to his head before getting all the way behind cover.


Seems they’re getting more choosy with their shots. Either they’ve gotten wiser, or they’re scraping their last magazine. I need to press the advantage now while I can, in the case that it is a pending full reload. Even as the thoughts were crossing his mind, Henry was already sprinting out again, and heading straight for the dead field of crops. As he got to the edge, another shot cracked after the bullet tore through plants, trying to find an obscured target. Thankfully this one was another grazing, scraping his right shoulder with a zip as it cut leather.


Douglas finally got his coughing under control, and looked out, not seeing Henry anymore. He couldn't have just left him here, right? No, the way he had sounded, he was gonna try and charge the person... That couldn't be good though! Not wanting to leave the only person who he could even call a friend in this post-apocolyptic mess to do this all on his own, Douglas ran down the street, frequently ducking behind cars or buildings as he could, always keeping his 'sprints' short. He'd heard the two cracks, and resolved to make this next one count. And did probably the dumbest thing he could.


Which was to run at a full sprint towards the blind, arms pumping and boots slamming one after another on the pavement as he ran blindly forward, feeling the impact long before he heard the crack, causing him to spin and crash into the ground, sliding forward some behind an abandoned truck. Grinding his teeth, Douglas tried very hard not to scream out in pain. He wanted to try oh so very hard to make the hunter, whoever they were, think they'd killed him... It would give Henry an edge, since they were now focused on where Douglas was, probably expecting Henry to come to his aide. Right?


Henry heard the other crack, and knew it wasn’t at him, so he moved forward cautiously as he hoped Dug was okay. The pistol was kept raised as he stayed low, but moved forward quickly, heading straight towards where he saw the blind. After a few moments, he knew he was getting close and began to veer towards the side a bit more. Once he was close enough to peek out the side of the dying plants, and saw the small dirt road that normally ran parallel to fields. He had a rough plan, wishing even as he did it, that he had more time.


Dashing out of the crops, he raised the pistol and fired three quick shots in the direction of the blind as he did, hoping to make them flinch. The shot went wide as it cracked into the tree he neared, echoing the much more immediate crack of the rifle now. This was it, what he needed, now the gamble was all or nothing, and said fuck it to staying in cover. The man sprinted, zig zagging through the trees, sending off a couple more shots now that he could directly keep an eye on the blind. Covering ground in no time, he heard the voice of a woman, cursing them while also frantically clattering with something.


Henry said nothing in return as ran up to the small ladder of the deer blind, only climbing a pair of rungs more, and angled his pistol over the edge of the stand’s floor. He would not listen to the sudden surprised shout of the woman before pulling the trigger twice, followed by a thud as she fell deathly silent. Knowing he had at least one more in the chamber, Henry eased up further, before peaking into the blind. What lay there was a woman in her mid 30s, hands still clutching the rifle, the look of terror only now beginning to relax from her lifeless features.


Climbing the rest of the way in after holstering his sidearm, the first thing he did, was prior the damnable rifle from her hands. The rounds had punched into her throat and roughly around her nose, leaving a not so pretty mess of what probably was an okay face before. Looking around inside, there was a small rucksack, it’s flap open to show the box of ammo she had been desperately trying to get into. Henry simply tossed the three empty mags into the bag, before gathering it up to and starting the climb back down, and heading down the road towards where Douglas should be.


Douglas wasn't sure, but he heard a much more rapid series of cracks... then silence. There hadn't been another loud bang like the rifle had been giving... So maybe Henry did it? For now, Douglas tried to control his breathing, hand clutching at his shoulder where there was plenty of blood pumping from around his fingers, with a lot of screaming pain from the nerves in that area. And since Henry had the medical supplies, well, Douglas figured the old coat he had under the cold weather jacket would help. It hurt like hell trying to grip the material, and tear, such that he not only had no success in the act, but also that his shoulder was telling him to stop because of the injury.


"FUCK!" He growled, thumping his head back against the side of the truck. His luck, for fuck's sake.


Douglas would hear steps on the gravel approaching, before Henry rounded the corner of the vehicle and looked at his shoulder. “Well good news Dug, shooter isn’t a problem anymore, and that isn’t a life threatening wound. Bad news, recovery on that is going to be a bitch and a half.”, he said calmly, resting the rifle against the side of the vehicle in all it’s fancy glory, save for the few flecks of crimson still drying on it’s furnishings. Setting the newly acquired bag down with it, he stepped over and started to take a look at the wound. Finding it being a through and through.


“Additional good news, we won’t have to do surgery to pull out fragments, bad news is you have a hole in ya.”, he commented.


"YA THINK!?" Douglas snapped, wincing as Henry worked on his arm. Henry would notice that Douglas's voice sounded.. Despite the pain and anger, it was softer? Less masculine maybe?


“Oh quick your belly aching, I did say it was more good then bad. At least you didn’t have to fight in the end, as I doubt you handle something like that yet. So see it as a blessing in disguise or something.” Henry was signing as the man was being grouchy at him, then again, he wasn’t the one with the hole in him. Pulling out a few things, he packed the wound with coagulant and packing bandages, before moistening them with alcohol. Once that was done and deemed that Douglas could at least be on the move again, wrapped around his shoulder tightly in gauze. “It’s gonna hurt, but we need to go back into the trees.”


Douglas sighed, and nodded. "Right. Right." He said, grunting as he finally pushed himself to his feet, and looked at the rifle finally. "Jeeze... that's not a small gun..." He said, taking the pack that Henry pushed towards him, and he wasn't sure how to hold it, but it was clear he needed both hands to handle that beast of a thing.


"Anything else of the hunter's we could use, or was the rifle and their pack, it?" He asked, looking around, wishing that they could try and check what few stores were here, but with what just happened, he wasn't sure if they were about to have a lot of unwanted 'guests' showing up soon.


“It’s all in the pack, big box of ammo included, spare mags, and whatever else she had in there.”, Henry said idly before waving Douglas to follow. He started to lead them back through the tiny village, before making a brief stop at the pump to top their canteens off. Lucky for them, it was a fairly nice pump, one with a built in filter which upped its value to them greatly. Once they were done, the journey continued on, right back up the hill and into the woods beyond its peak. There they walked a while into it, before finding a decent space where the trees still hung overhead, but had a decent amount of space between them.


Looking around as he rubbed his chin, an act that made his shoulder ache, before the hand found the bit of blood still weeping from the graze. “This place should do, and ouch, they grazed me good on that last shot.”


Douglas nodded. "Plenty of room, and we can set up stuff here. And if anyone's hunting with aircraft..." He mused, looking up above them at how the tree's branches formed a canopy that could effectively hide them from above, and help defuse any campfire they started. Which would be important for various reasons. Ranging from cooking food, boiling water, and keeping warm.


"Uhhh, so, how do we set things up now?" He asked, looking at Henry, and moving to try and help ease the things off his shoulders without further injuring Henry's arm.


Looking about some more, Henry leaned down before picking up what looked like a mostly straight, yet thick fallen branch from one of the trees. “Find at least 5 more of these, we’ll need them for the backbone of the tents. With the tarps we brought, and the cord, we can fashion two tents side by side, with a tarp laid across the ground under them. While you're doing that, I'm going to look for stones that I can make a fire pit with.” After he had handed off that job, he handed the branch over for something to use as comparison. Once he had, the man would start looking around for decently sized rocks, and start bringing them back in a few arm loads after a bit.


With a nod, Douglas wandered off, and began looking around in the nearby area of woodland for branches similar in size and straightness. After a couple of hours, he finally returned, the bundle of 6 sticks in hand, well, arms, clothes coated in dirt and a few leaves sticking to bits of mud on his coat. "Sorry it took me so long." He said in apology, settling them down near the pit that Henry had set up.


Henry in that time had put together the firepit, and even had arranged a pile of sticks, dried grass, and leaves for burning later. Turning to Douglas, he nodded as he looked at the sticks brought back, “Very good, these will work nicely until we can find better materials to make frames for our tents. Help me lay the tarp out, then we can start digging a few in before fastening the other two to the tops.”


Douglas nodded, setting the sticks down, and looking around for a flat space... No spot was truly flat, but he could see a few spots that were flatter than most. So taking the tarp, he started to lay it out, frequently having to redo sections as it tried to roll back up. After several minutes, they finally had the tarp down. And ready to start digging the holes for the braces needed. "So, how deep do we dig these holes?" He asked, looking over to Henry.


“I’d say three to four inches should do it. Let me get some stones I brought back to weigh these corners down while you get started.”, Henry answered before stepping over to a pile of some additional stones he gathered. The man then began to place them along two of the edges, in intervals to spread the weight. Once he was satisfied that the tarp was secure, started to help Douglas finish sticking their makeshift poles deep into the dirt.


Once that was done, he tied the last two down to them, an end fastened to the top of either end. Afterwards, the other tarps were tented over the pole frames they had made, and stones laid down the middle of the two to further secure the top tarps. Pleased with their work, Henry nodded with a small smile, “I almost think we can qualify to live the high life now. But there are still a few things we can add as we go. One being an underground cooler, which will require more sticks, a hammer, and nails. Or wood boards from pallets, or something else made of them.”


Douglas nodded. "I recall seeing a few pallets over that way," He said, pointing in a direction deeper into the woods. "Near an abandoned off-roader. The tires were gone, so I figure whoever brought them out didn't plan on going back out with them. There was about 3 of them. Would that be enough?" Douglas asked, having only ever seen people take the tires off vehicles when they basically were keeping them in a place long term for some silly reason.


“Perfect, and all we’ll need left is tools to extract the nails, cut the boards down. Then reassemble it into a frame that will fit. Plus a shovel and mylar blanket. Thankfully I have a couple packaged in my bag, even a couple of wool we can use for bedding in our tents.” That was certainly a stroke of good luck, now all they really needed were the tools. The question now was where in the hell to find those, preferably nothing rusted to shit either. Perhaps one of the towns in the region had a hardware store they could loot, which may have more materials to use, and other tools for developing their camp. “Alright, I like this, I feel like we actually have a decent game plan for development starting to form.”


Douglas nodded. "I could probably get started on digging out the holes, and maybe set up an outhouse for us as well, while you find what we need. Division of labor and everything right?" He said, a wry smile on his face, though it was impossible to see. "Plus, you know better what we're looking for in tools and materials. The uhh, off-roader was about 10 minutes in the direction I pointed."