RolePlayGateway

[Darkpriest]

(ooc thread http://www.roleplaygateway.com/the-road-ooc-thread-t36262.html)
(role players wanted thread http://www.roleplaygateway.com/the-road-role-players-wanted-survival-horror-t36384.html)

[Darkpriest]

Vik woke up, it was still early, the sky was turning from black to grey along the horizon. He missed dawn, in the old days dawn had been full of colour, yellows and reds, now it was just grey. Like the rest of the world covered in grey.

He sat up, a thin layer of ash had fallen over him during the night, the fire next to him had died and it was cold, he started moving around, relighting the fire, he needed to get into a city or town to sleep tonight as it was probably going to snow. The layer of ash on the road showed that no one had passed yet this morning.

He packed up ready to leave and sat on the ground watching his breakfast warm up on the fire. A tin of beans. He tried not to think about food, it had been weeks since he had last had fresh meat, and even that wasn’t fresh it was a salted ham he had found hanging in a barn, it must have been hanging for years but under the dry and hardened outer layer the inside was still good. Plus he was hungry, he hadn’t cared.

Once the beans were hot he took them in his hands are started to eat them as he walked, his bag on his back, he looked around as he got to the road, he had slept out of side behind a hill, where the fire couldn’t be seen.

The area around him was filled with dead tress, he wasn’t sure where he was, and the compass told him he had heading south which was enough. The area was full of trees, everywhere trees and between the trees small towns, empty towns. This had been the road that everyone had taken going south, it was the most direct, and if you were slow you would freeze. But it meant that every town had been looted, every looter was more desperate then the last which meant nothing was left unless it looked so dangerous to eat that it wasn’t worth it.

As he came to the top of a hill he saw a town in the distance, it looked dead, like all towns. He would have to spend the night, maybe he could find a few more cans. He checked behind him, from the hill he could see for miles, but there was still nothing and no one. He started to wonder if he was the only one left, but that would be to lucky, no there were others but like him they hid from strangers.

[Aufeis]

Log, Day 185, year 9x.

That little community that I've been telling you about? The one that might have actually had a chance to start up again off of scavenged food and supplies? Gone. The water purifier that was at least good for clearing the ash out of the water? Gone. All the people? Gone. All of it. Sometime during the night, raiders set fire to our encampment. If not for the burning people, I would have thanked them for their gift of warmth. If not for the beatings and stabbings, I would have run away. But something told me to grab Sierra and Carlos and hide under the purifier. We waited there for hours. The raiders feasted, eating the meat of my burned comrades and drinking the blood that had been boiled in their veins. We lay there, cold and afraid. I held Carlos' hand as he shivered with my right, and Sierra's with my left. I thought about shooting at them, but I only had twelve bullets left. And even if I managed to hit every single slug dead on, there would still be plenty more, waiting to pull us out, kicking and screaming. Carlos began to cry as he saw his friends being eaten. He's only ten, now, he shouldn't have to see this shit.

Finally, the raiders left. We crawled out from under the crawlspace and looked around. Everyone was dead. I managed to find a shotgun, but there are no shells for it. Maybe if I could find some gunpowder, I could load it like a musket with a makeshift shell. Worth a try, I suppose. I did, however, manage to find some more slugs to my revolver. I have eighteen in total now. That's enough for me to kill fifteen people and then off Sierra, Carlos, and myself. God forbid it should ever come to that. I fear that my sanity may be slipping a little. Sierra told me I have flecks of gray in my hair now that weren't there yesterday. I don't doubt it.

------------------------------------------------

Present Day:

Jake sat back against the wall. He had been awake for the past two hours, but he was simply to tired to move. It had been ages since he had slept well enough. Probably not since Sierra...since Sierra stole his revolver and put a slug into her brain. He was all alone out here. He couldn't trust anything, not even that damned demon revolver at his side. Speaking of which... He pulled the revolver out of his holster and flicked the slug into the chamber, and then gave it a good spin. Where to today? The right temple sounded good. He pulled the trigger.

*click*

He put the pistol down, sighing, "Fuck me." He got up and stepped over the body of the religious zealot he had been eating the night (or was it day?) before.

'God will protect me by striking you down, heathen!'

"I give 'God' the opportunity to every morning for the past four years. If he had wanted me dead, he'd have done it a long time ago. But just to test your theory, lets see." He flipped the cylinder open, flicked the slug in, and then spun it back into place. He looked at the zealot, putting the barrel to his left temple, "One out of six." He pulled the trigger.

*click*

He put the gun under his chin, "One out of five."

*click*

To his forehead, "One out of four."

*click*

Right between the eyes, "One out of three."

*click*

He almost laughed at the man's astonished look, "Are you happy? I gave him four, not two, not three, but four separate opportunities." He raised the crowbar over his head and brought it down twice. The zealot would be meeting his "Lord" in person now. Presently, the zealot was missing his arm and half of his leg. Jake rubbed the blood away from his face and sighed. He took out his jar of olives, his book, and a pen and began to write, popping an olive into his mouth.

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Log, Day How the fuck should I know, Year 15x

Beat a religious zealot to death last night. At him for dinner, about to begin breakfast. It's just as cold as ever. Balls feel like their turning into raisins, just like usual. Revolver failed again. I'm beginning to think I'm never going to die. Based on my present sanity, I suppose that's left to be determined. Maybe I'm dead already and this is my personal hell. Who knows, and who gives a rats ass.

--------------------------------------------------------

He stared at the page long and hard. No point in delaying the inevitable. He put the book away, popped another olive into his mouth and took out his machete, cutting of a piece of the man's meat. He threw it on the little metal pan and struck his flint over some pieces of the zealot's clothing. It caught fire easily enough, and he watched the smoke rise up into the sky, mingling with the ashes already there. He didn't care if he concealed his smoke trail or not.

"Come on, you fuckers! I DARE YOU! Come take me on! Jake Barents is waiting for you!" He yelled over the horizon to nobody in particular. He laughed, a soulless, heartless laugh. It was a hollow laugh. He fell down next to the fire and simply laid there in the ash/snow. At this point, he'd lick it off the ground and make a snowman out of it, using his own pecker as the nose. What the hell did it matter anymore? He sighed, staring up at the ever empty sky, "Why do you two keep me here? Don't you want me up there with you? Why does this damn thing never WORK?!" He yelled throwing the revolver down. It bounced and landed near his left foot. He just kind of stared at it. As if he had been expecting it to ironically go off. That was how these stories worked, didn't they? The downtrodden man always losses his one chance of escape? Of course, all you had to do was sit in one spot for too long and go to sleep and you'd never wake up. Hell, all he really had to do was strip naked and run through the city streets, screaming at the top of his lungs. Lord only knew he was crazy enough to do it. But for some reason, it had to be this revolver, and this bullet. Otherwise, he couldn't bring himself to die. That's why it was called roulette.

[Darkpriest]

Vik stood on the edge of town, he had been walking for a few hours already, was it mid day or mid morning, the sky was always the same grey, except at night, then it was black, so black, night was never black before, but now the sky blocks all the stars and the moon. In the old days it wasn’t so bad as there were lights in the distance, other travellers with their camp fires, but that’s gone now, even if they are out their no one has a fire in the open where it can be seen. So if you wake up in the night its hard to tell if you’ve gone blind or not.

Vik walked a few steps forward across the threshold into the town. He expected a trap, no point avoiding it, if anyone was here waiting they would have seen him coming from miles away. But there was nothing, that was sometimes worse then activating a trap, at least then he saw another human. Well he saw a human now, but it wasn’t very talkative.

Behind some cover produced by a pair of rusting cars was a body, there was a hole in the head, but the body itself was dry and rotting, didn’t look human at all anymore, just like a pile of dried leaves. There was another dried human across the street from him, obviously there had been a shoot out, along time ago. But no hope of weapons or supplies, the bodies had been stripped by those who had come before. Vik sighed and walked on.

He didn’t bother going into the supermarket, from the outside he knew there was nothing. At this point you had to try and think about places others wouldn’t looks. First stop supermarkets, then the nicest house near by, but everyone knew those two so being clever they tried the houses on either side of the biggest house thinking those would have been ignored by disheartened looters. Vik sighed, shut his eyes stick his arm out and spin for a few seconds then stopped and opened his eyes, his hand was pointing at a house opposite the supermarket. Well that was as good a place as any.

He walk in, the front door had been kicked open years ago. As he stood looking in he heard a sound "Come on, you fuckers! I DARE YOU! Come take me on! Jake Barents is waiting for you!", he turned it sounded like it had come from behind, from the road, probably another psycho, he walked into the house with added caution, he needed to find a nice place to camp, this house wasn’t it, to close to the road, he didn’t want to be woken up in the night by a knife at his throat.

The house was empty as he had expected, the kitchen was mess, but no food. He looked around upstairs, the blankets were gone, all the clothes, this house was a shell. He sighed and walked deeper into town, away from the road, looking for another house to try.

[Aufeis]

Present Day:

Jake wiped off his face and kicked the door open. It fell free of it's hinges and began to fall down the stairs noisily. He watched it go with each step, taking his own thundering footsteps in as he did. The apartment building was beyond disrepair. Whole walls crumbled. The stairs barely worked, and creaked with each step, as though they would simply collapse from his weight. He sighed as took the final step, his boot coming to rest in the ash. He lifted it up and looked at the print he had left, and watched as it almost immediately disappeared. Dust and ash floated around him and he thanked the lord for his mask, which was situated snugly on his face. He looked around the deserted road. He wanted to deviate from it so badly, to simply just walk off and never go back to its desolate nothingness. There was never anything to eat, there was never anything to drink, and there was never anything worth bringing with. Besides, what was the point to going south anyway. Who gave a damn if off the road was slower. It may be more difficult, but there was probably more supplies off the beaten paths anyway. He thought about it for a moment and debated whether he truly cared or not. Maybe if he had a reason to survive he might actually veer off this road of insanity. Of course, now that he'd had something to eat and a little time to relax, he was at least some semblance of himself again. For now, he had to simply go instead of killing and eating the next person he met, he'd actually try to make an ally. Perhaps it would make him less crazy. Perhaps it would make him more. He didn't really know, but he didn't really care, one way or the other.

Log, Day 242, year 9x.

Carlos and I were out scouting a small town while Sierra rested. For a boy, he is exceptionally perceptive. If not for him, I would have walked right through a trip wire and gotten a good harpoon to the gut. Avoiding the trap, I was able to find a baseball cap that fit his head. It was a little beat up, but he loved it. He put it on as soon as I gave it to him, and he hasn't taken it off, even when he slept. Growing up must be shit for him, and it certainly nothing like I can understand. But he's strong. He is a strong boy. He will be a strong man one day, for what it's worth.

Present Day:

Jake stepped out into the road. Footprints. Not his. He looked out over the land, but all he could see was desolation. He shook his head and decided to follow them to whomever had made them. There was only one set of footprints, so with any luck, there might be someone as desperate and maybe even as crazy as he was. He laughed a little. Crazy as him; that was funny.

[Darkpriest]

Vik walked past a library, the knowledge that had been within its walls had rotted or burned, either way libraries had nothing of value. Years ago Vik had considered libraries to be places of great power, with knowledge they would rebuild, but to rebuild you need people, for people you need food, for food you need a green world, and to get a green world, well he didn’t know how to get one of those, although he knew a few things about losing one and with it losing everything.

Vik kept walking, he found himself outside another house, looking to his left he could see the road, the way he had just come, he sighed and walked into another house hoping to find something. This house had obviously been visited, there were empty cans on the ground, the bins had been emptied and cupboards were open, one the table was a single can. Now Vik as suspicious, how ever had visited this house and put this can on the table and looked at it, had thought about it, now so did Vik. Early it had been that in houses you found things that other survivors hadn’t had room for, or simply didn’t like, but now if you found food their was a reason, it was hidden or you were taking it from a body who had frozen or been shot, anything, but taking food that anyone could take, that took thought. He looked over the can and soon realised why it had been left, rust. Rust could mean the food is off, you eat it, get sick, die, that’s risk.

Vik moved on to look around the rest of the house, as usual it was empty. Vik moved on.
He didn’t walk far this time, just next door, he would find something in one of these houses. This one had been raided but with less obviousness, that inspired hope, maybe people had looked around it, twice maybe three times before, but no one had stayed in it, maybe no one had searched it really well. Vik planned to change that. The cupboards were bare, that was to be expected, but that wasn’t were you found food, he checked around upstairs, found a pair of blankets, his was starting to smell so it was a good find. He checked the attic but someone had been there before, nothing of value. One final stop the basement. He ripped up his old blanket, wrapped it in a small amount of fuel from his stove and with a chair leg, you have a torch. He grew more excited when he walked down the stairs into the basement, the door was locked, nothing is locked without a reason, although nothing is locked if it can be unlocked. Some one had tried with a pin and failed scratching up the door, the door itself was metal, a metal door, that is odd, but it explained why it hadn’t been opened, it was attached to a metal frame as well.

Vik left the basement, and sat down inside to think, there must be something inside, but how would you get inside without a cutting torch, he defiantly didn’t have a cutting torch. Shotgun the lock? That might do nothing, it might work, but it would probably do nothing. He considered the pin approach, but he had no experience, he sat and thought.

[Aufeis]

Jake walked for a long time. How far, he wasn't certain. He passed by a desolate library. He felt a strange urge to go inside and sift through the ashes. He kicked open the doors, even though the walls were almost completely gone anyway. He made his way through the shelves and the overturned tables that crumbled if you even took a step near them. It was like he had been to the library before. He made it to his destination quickly. A ruined bookshelf. He moved through the burned books, until finally he found one that was in good condition: Bloody Sun Rise, by Jake Barents. His best seller. Ironic. He stuffed it into his backpack went out the doors. He wasn't sure what had made him stop to get the book, but he had it now.

Finally, the footprints went inside a house, then came out, and went into another house. He entered with caution, holding his machete in his right hand, watching every corner, "Hello? Is anyone in here?"

[Darkpriest]

Vik continued to sit and think, every plan had a problem, all of which involved the lack of anything he had. Melt the lock with acid, where do you get acid? Cut the lock out with a wielding torch, where do you get a wielding torch? Burn the house down then you might find a weak point, or what if I don’t and just attract every crazy for 5 miles? This could and would have continued for hours, and probably had happened before every time someone found this house.
But Vik was disturbed before he had condemned the situation to being hopeless, which was true of his continued survival in general.

He heard foot steps, but he hadn’t really noticed then, a lot of things in a ruined town make noise, the wind in the rotting buildings, a roof falling in, the dripping of water.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?"

He stood up and grabbed his shotgun, a voice, things in rotting towns didn’t usually talk, he had eaten today, so hearing voices wasn’t to be expected. That means it was a person, a human, a hungry human, like all humans in the world today. If this human was here, he might be armed, he might be more that one. Vik was nervous, he held his shot gun close, even if it didn’t have a lot of ammo, it meant safety to him and would still long after it was useless, if he lived long enough to use the remaining shells, although it was most likely that he last shell would be used on him.

‘Yeah, someone’s here, why are you there?’ Vik yelled around the corner, his own voice surprised him, it was rough, its hard to describe, but it sounded rusty, which it was, he didn’t talk to himself, he knew that took you down bad roads, so he didn’t talk was the result.

[Aufeis]

Jake laughed. Why was he here? It was a funny question, or at least, it was in his own fucked up mind, "Because I have lost so much, I'm just a ghost. Because someone needs to chronicle this living hell for something in the future. Because I'm really good at god damned roulette. Pick a reason, and I'm sure it will fit. Mostly, because I can't bring myself to die and join my son and wife in Heaven." He laughed again. Was he insane? Perhaps. His laughter turned into crying. Heavy sobs that left trails of clean down his face. The black tears that fell from his face froze on their way down. They hit the ground like marbles, "Or do you perhaps mean, why am I here specifically. Because I'm damned tired of being alone. Because I saw footprints in the ash, and followed them here. Because I figured I'd find the resolution to one of my two problems. My loneliness or my life." He honestly didn't care whether this guy came at him with a knife. Would he fight back? Possibly, but it would be out of habit, and not out of will.

He tossed the book he had just picked up from the library at whomever was around the corner, "I'm Jake. Jake Barents, author of the best seller Bloody Sunrise. You probably heard me not long ago, screaming like a loon. I hadn't eaten in a few days, and the insanity was coming in on me, I have to admit. You can keep the book, by the way, I know the damn words by heart." His face was that of a man remembering days long passed, "I never thought I'd be living my own god damned book."

----------------------------------------------------

Log, Day 54, 12x.

I'd written a lot of book in my time, but Bloody Sunrise was my best, the peak of my writing genius, the reviews said. If I had only known that it would one day be a reflection of my life, I would have burned the manuscript right then and there. During the night, the generator died, and the space heater went out. Carlos froze to death. I was awakened by a gunshot. Sierra had stolen our revolver from my waistband and put a slug in her brain. It was exactly like the beginning of Chapter Seven. Except, instead of being able to have a normal funeral, like Tanner could, I had to leave them there. I had to leave my child, and my wife, to be raided. I only took two things from them. Sierra's locket, and that fucking cap I got Carlos. I still haven't cried. I haven't put that last bullet in my brain either. I thought about it. In fact, I even tried. Spun the chamber once and put the gun to my head. It's my new daily ritual. I figure that one day, I'll get lucky. A game of roulette where losing means you get to live in hell, and winning sends you to something better. A match made in Heaven.

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[Darkpriest]

Vik nervously waited for a reply, and was shocked to hear the reply. He man laughed. Vik was sat holding a shotgun and the guy around the corner was laughing at the question ‘why are you here.’

"Because I have lost so much, I'm just a ghost. Because someone needs to chronicle this living hell for something in the future. Because I'm really good at god damned roulette. Pick a reason, and I'm sure it will fit. Mostly, because I can't bring myself to die and join my son and wife in Heaven." He laughed again. His laughter turned into crying.

Vik waited, maybe the question was relatively funny, it was a question he avoided asking himself, no that’s not true the real question was ,why aren’t they here, that was the real question to ask. The man continued to talk, crying a little still, like so much in the world, every moment of joy shattered and the bleak world shone through.

"Or do you perhaps mean, why am I here specifically. Because I'm damned tired of being alone. Because I saw footprints in the ash, and followed them here. Because I figured I'd find the resolution to one of my two problems. My loneliness or my life. I'm Jake. Jake Barents, author of the best seller Bloody Sunrise. You probably heard me not long ago, screaming like a loon. I hadn't eaten in a few days, and the insanity was coming in on me, I have to admit. You can keep the book, by the way, I know the damn words by heart. I never thought I'd be living my own god damned book."

Now Vik laughed, this was funny. ‘‘Damn, not that I hate to read but just to save me a few hours, how did your character make it out of this in the end?’’ Vik Burst out laughing again ‘‘I’m afraid I never finished reading it, their might still be a copy up north in my house, the book mark still halfway through it’’ Vik paused, he stopped laughing ‘’In those days I sat alone at night reading in the fire light, it had already happened , that damn book, I read it and laughed, in those days it had only just started, that damn book, I laughed at it, I said it would never happen, I said this was a momentary lapse of reason, soon we would be back on our feet, you cant keep mankind down, that damn book, it was already over, like a chicken without a head we kept twitching, we are the convolutions of a dead body.’’

Vik stopped and picked up the book. ‘I didn’t write a book. I’m called Vik, its not my name, but my name means nothing now, I almost pity you, if I had any pity to give, you’ve still got a name, and a constant reminder of it, me, I’m nobody, and as nobody, I’ve lost nobody, since I never had anybody, which is better then being somebody and losing somebody. Enough of that emotional crap for the moment.’

Vik still held the shotgun, he was enjoying the conversation, how messed up is that. ‘Ok, I’m guessing your alone, I’m guessing your armed, well I’m armed to, so nice and slow lets both put our guns down, then come sit down.’

Vik got out a pack of cards from his poked, they were old and dirty, made of several packs, he had lost so many that none were from the original pack, but at least it was a full pack, often he would be force to stop due to snow or rain, so he would wait, play some cards. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know anyway to get through a steel door?’

[Aufeis]

How did his character make it out in the end. Another funny question, but Jake was too tired to laugh anymore, "I haven't made it that far yet. With any luck, it will be a bullet in the brain from a revolver with only one slug." He said, throwing down his revolver. It really didn't matter, this ordeal would either end in an ally or his death, and he honestly wished the guy would just shoot him. It would have been a blessing just to see their smiling faces again, "Yeah, trust me, I never imagined the words I was writing in the book to become true either. And if I did, I would have made sure my family and I had been killed in the explosions." Whether this was true or not was hard to say, but it seemed true enough to his broken mind.

He leaned against the wall and frowned. Should he give up his melee weapons as well, or should he simply not mention them, in case this guy was pulling a trick. As for steel doors, there was a great multitude of things authors learned through vigorous research and making friends with retired demolition experts. He smiled at the though of old Danny, his retired military buddy. He knew how to make explosives alright. Napalm, plastic explosives, you name it. Of course, these materials tended to come in rather short supply in an apocalypse situation, but you never know, "Depends. I don't have a cutting torch, if that's what you mean, but I do know my way around explosives. I'm sure we could blow the door if we had the right shit. And I do mean shit."

[Darkpriest]

Vik smiled, ‘Well there is shit and there is shit, if you can make an explosive using ash, ash and the freezing cold, then maybe we could get somewhere. But hey you’re the expert if you think you can do it, we could go blow up some shit.’

Vik dealt the cards, ‘you wouldn’t happen to play poker?, it sounded like you were gambolling man, playing for high stakes with that revolver of yours. Only a 1 is 6 chance of winning.’ Vik had done a similar thing for a while, although it a bit more difficult with a shot gun. Basically it involved flipping a coin, heads, gun to your head, tails, get back on the trail. He still had the coin, every day for a week he got tails in the morning. He wasn’t really a religious man, I had some vague idea that death was gonna be better than life, what better meant could be nothingness; he hoped it was a heaven of some kind. But he had learned that what ever had run the world had giving up being fair, every one had had a chance to die, those of us still alive had picked to live, so we were stuck with that, a nothing would let us have an easy way out. His friends that had killed the selves, well the hadn’t answered the question yet, they still had a breaking point. But picking survival over anything, that meant being on of the cursed to survive.

Vik looked up from the cards, talking to someone was different to being alone, he didn’t trust the man, he wasn’t that insane yet, but it was nice having someone around. He might even get around to finish reading that book. ‘Oh yeah the steel door, if you look round corner into the other room there is a steel door blocking the basement. I figure there is something work having down there, and since you will need help finding anything in this ruin of the a town, how about you tell me what you need, we go looking, get the doors open, and split what’s inside, who knows it might be filled with booze, steaks and a pair of attractive women who have been sealed down there alone for far to long. Or it might be empty. But hey what else we got to do all day?’

[Aufeis]

Jake shook his head, stepping around the corner and picking up his revolver, "I've been 'lucky' every day for the past-" he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger:

*Click*

"- three years. If that isn't someone's idea of a joke, then I don't know what is. I'd up the odds if I could find some more slugs for the damn gun, but until that time comes, I have to play with the hand "God" deals me. Regardless, yeah if there is a door like that, more than likely it's to protect something. But if you don't mind, I'll gather up the resources myself. They're things nobody would want anyway. Manure is a key ingredient, I'll tell you that much. Other than that, I'm not letting you in on the trade just yet." He said with a gruff laugh, "It should only take me ten minutes to build once I have all the supplies. If you want, you can look for a case of some sort. Something the size of a milk jug, but more like a bucket. Something big."

And he set off in search of bomb supplies. As if this was normal behavior for him. He would find everything he needed in a supermarket, even if it had been raided for everything someone else might deem useful. He loved the god damn non-existent army.

[Darkpriest]

Vik had been surprised by the active display of this mans suicidal resolve. But the chamber was empty, must always have been empty. But suicidal or not Jake knew his stuff and was all business once he had something placed in front of him to do. Vik was given a task, he followed.
He stood outside in the house, Jake was walking towards the inside of town, it was a walk Vik hadn’t seen for along time, a walk he thought he would never see again, it had energy, hope, belief. Vik was used to walked and expecting nothing, usually those expectations were met.
He walked in the garden. The shed had been ruined, but it had a bucket, with a hole in. Vik swore aloud. He found things of use, a half bottle of oil which had been hidden behind some paint cans. A few garden tools that could be useful weapons. What is a large buckets? Vik cursed himself for not asking Jake more questions, about size.

He took a sledge hammer from the shed and walked back into the house, it might be strange to think such a powerful weapon wasn’t taken, but in the end there were more weapons then people to wield them.

He went into the bathroom and started removing the bath, that’s a large bucket.

[Aufeis]

It only took Jake thirty-six minutes and forty-five seconds to round up all the materials he needed. Yes, he had been counting the numbers off in his head, but it wasn't like there was much else to do. When he finally got back and dumped his supplies on the floor, he looked around for his new acquaintance. When he finally located him, he saw that the man was removing the bathroom's bathtub. Not exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd said a bucket. He laughed and said, "Perhaps you are crazier than me. If I made a bomb out of that, it would do much, much more than blow down that door. This house would be gone, easy. Now, if you were to remove the sink instead, then we would be in business." He was joking of course, he needed something that he could seal before he could make a bomb out of it, "But seriously, I need something like a pipe or something that I can seal. The most damage comes from the build up of gases inside the air-tight container. Luckily, I stopped at the hardware store on the way back and picked up some plumbing pipes that should do the trick. Give me a few minutes, and your door problem will be solved.

Jake began to get to work, building his explosive lock-smith completely from memory. Though he'd had the know how, he had never actually built a bomb before, "You may want to stand back a bit. I've never done this before, and it could have some serious consequences." His back was to the metal door, so if anything did go wrong, he'd at least take the door with him.

[Darkpriest]

Vik had finished removing the bath and was considering dragging it to the hall when Jake returned.

Jake laughed and said, "Perhaps you are crazier than me. If I made a bomb out of that, it would do much, much more than blow down that door. This house would be gone, easy. Now, if you were to remove the sink instead, then we would be in business. But seriously, I need something like a pipe or something that I can seal. The most damage comes from the build up of gases inside the air-tight container. Luckily, I stopped at the hardware store on the way back and picked up some plumbing pipes that should do the trick. Give me a few minutes, and your door problem will be solved.’’

Vik shrugged ‘you said big bucket, a big bucket isn’t a seal able pipe.’ He stood quietly and watched Jake work, Vik was slightly out of his element here, he cursed himself for not having learned more when he had had the chance, so much he could of learned that would have been useful. Some basic chemistry and physics. If he’d know how to purify water, or to make snares, but when there were animals to catch. But it was to late now, he knew enough to stay alive and keep moving but that was about all he could hope for.

Vik waited around the corner once Jake had finished the bomb. Jake seem to be standing at a suicidal close distance to the thing, probably hoping to die in the blast, that guy had issues. Vik usually was just as suicidal but today he might find something in this basement, at least he didn’t want to due before finding out and more than that he didn’t want some other crazy walking in and finding what was in there. Which might very well be nothing but could be something.

[Aufeis]

Jake shook his head. Vik was right, a pipe wasn't a bucket. Or...was it? Either way, why the hell had he said "bucket"? Because he was insane of course. Regardless, Jake finished his little concoction with a smile, "Alright, let's light this bad boy up and see how he goes, huh?" He said, setting the bomb. There were not enough mechanisms to a working timer, so he would have to light the thing and then book. He struck some stones together and got a spark, which began to trail up the fuse. He had about five seconds, "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" He yelled and dove around the corner. The bomb went off, knocking the door completely off its hinges and down into the basement itself. Jake laughed through his mask and adjusted his bandanna.

"Well, that pretty much did the trick, wouldn't you say? It's almost enough to drive a man sane." He yelled and squinted through the clearing smoke and ash. This goal had actually offered him a bit of sanity, setting his mind straight to work out a "practical" problem with a "practical" solution. (Whether this was entirely practical was probably up to the witness anyway, so who really gave a shit.) He peered down into the basement with quiet curiosity. To begin with, he couldn't have given a shit what was down there, but now it had perked his interest. However, he stepped back and looked at Vik, "Well, you found it first, after you."

[Darkpriest]

Jake yelled to Vik through the smoke and ash."Well, that pretty much did the trick, wouldn't you say? It's almost enough to drive a man sane."
Vik laughed ‘Almost sane, ha, if sanity is blowing up doors I wonder what your insanity is.’
Jake peered into the gloom "Well, you found it first, after you."

Vik looked in, the basement was dark ‘if I scream because some kind of creature is down there, then feel free to come save me.’ Vik used the oil he had found before to make a burning torch and walked down into the dark.

The room stank it was filled with shelving. He found a battery powered lamp and turned it on, illuminating the room. A tear rolled down his face. ‘I found the previous owners.’ There were three bodies, rotten; it looked like the parents had shot the child then themselves. The floor was littered with empty cans, a chemical toilet in the corner had overflowed. ‘I wonder how long they stayed down here.

Vik soon noticed that some of the shelves were still full, ‘they shot themselves before they ran out of food. Why?’ He started gathering what he could find together, he wasn’t going to stay down there any longer then he had to. ‘Jake have a look if you can find the gun they shot each other with and see if there is something to carry all ….’ Vik had paused, he saw something, ‘Well I will be damned’ behind several cans he had hit the jack pot, A full bottle of booze, scotch.

Then Vik started laughing ‘Hey Jake look at this.’ Vik picked a book from the table, ‘it’s your damned book, what are the chances of that.’

[Aufeis]

Jake laughed a bit, "I don't really know anymore. Can a broken mind claim anything is sane or insane? And if something attacks you, I can't say that I'm properly equipped to save you, but I'll definitely try." As he descended behind Vik, he looked over the shelves of food. The smell was disgusting, of rotting flesh and of

Jake stared at the previous owners grimly. He knew what would be on the table, even before Vik called it out, "Yeah, I know. This is like the final chapter. Spending all this time in here. It begins to drive you mad. The monotony, the claustrophobia, and the screams of those less fortunate. Likely they stayed down here for years." He stepped around the chemical toilet and picked up the blood spattered book. Bloody Sunset. Definitely his book. When Vik showed him the alcohol he smiled and said, "Do I really look like I need help being crazy?"

He looked around at the multitude of canned foods and began to gather up the food he liked. Stuff that he had missed. Vegetables, canned fruits, soups, even a few cans of everyone's favorite, canned meat. He brushed a few cans aside and stumbled upon a jackpot of his own, "Hey, look at this. Some ammo. Nothing much, couple shotgun shells and a few slugs. I also happened upon the 9mm that the family had used to off themselves. It's under the table." He said, swiping up the extra four slugs and kneeling down by the table. There were a couple of other guns down there as well, either empty, rusted, or broken beyond repair. A shame, but at least they had something. He slid the clip out of the 9mm and saw that there were five bullets left in the clip, which meant that they had half a clip. One in the chamber and five in reserve. He turned it over in his hands after he flicked on the safety, "Wonder if it still works. It's a waste to shoot it now, but do we want to chance it if one of us has to use it in combat?" It was an interesting dilemma, but for now he was content to tear open a can of peaches, dumping the food down his throat. It was a little musty, but it was much better than anything he had eaten in a very long time.

[Darkpriest]

Jake found a pistol and asked "Wonder if it still works. It's a waste to shoot it now, but do we want to chance it if one of us has to use it in combat?"
Vik looked over don’t test it against your head, that will break it for sure and it would be nice to have a gun with some ammo.

Vik grabbed a few cans then looked around, ‘lets eat up stairs, this place stinks, slightly worse then the rest of the world. If that’s even possible.’ One his way up Vik spotted a few cans under the shelves, ‘well I will be damned, cola, and lemonade, tastes from the past.’ Vik headed up the stairs and set himself up in the kitchen. He had a meal set out, a can of pears to start, while he heated up a can on pork and beans, then a sponge pudding for desert. That was a good lunch.

While the pan heated up Vik looked out the window ‘hey Jake, I doubt there is anyone about, but maybe we should clean it up down there and sleep down there tonight, its going to be dark in a few hours, if one of us sleeps against the door, we can lean the steel door up, it should be safe enough.’ Vik paused and thought for a few minutes ‘Unless you’ve got anywhere else to be, cause I was going hang around for tonight at least, then hit the road again tomorrow.’

Vik started eating the pork and beans, good it had been awhile since he had been able to eat more then 1 can at a meal, or even more then one can a day. He sipped a can of cola and smiled, how far have we fallen he wondered. He saw in this house, even ruined as it was, reminders for the lost world. Magazines faded and rotting, but the covers still showing holidays and foods. There was nothing to eat, no where to go, well except south, there would be something in the south, its warmer, people could survive better. Was that why Vik and Jake hadn’t died, they were needed to rebuild humanity in the south? Or maybe god is a cruel son of a bitch and was enjoying watching this hell.