Pinnacle -Lock please-

[DRdoctorlady]

occ; flashback. She's recounting the events from the starting of the scourge leading up to now, being ambushed with Coon in a dark wal-mart warehouse ^-^
I shall continue soonm but currently my computer is finding it entertaining to periodically shut itself down.

[kingdomheartsluvr]

Wow, I love this so far can't wait to see more!

[DRdoctorlady]

Thanks everyone ^^ I'm going to post some more later once I'm done checking all of my other posts :D

[DRdoctorlady]

Chapter .5d
-------->Continuation

At first, we decided it would be good enough to just plug the crack up with some blankets and grass and whatnot, but when we came back the next day, the plug was pulled out and the fruit suddenly gone again. By then I was convinced it wasn't a racoon that was stealing the stuff, but Grasswhistle said she'd seen even wilier racoons before, and was going to get this one just like all the others.
So Grasswhistle started setting up traps to catch the racoon, which, at the time looked really good. But later, when I blundered out of the house early in the morning to check on both the traps and the progress of the fruit-drying, I not only didn't see a Racoon dangling from its hindpaw in some cleverly constructed trap, but I managed to crash into one I didn't remember being set up, and get so helplessly caught that I couldn't get out until Grasswhistle woke up and spent the next half hour extricating me from all the wires and clasps and such. When we checked the van, we noticed one entire rack of grapes-turning-into-raisins gone. With that, Grasswhistle fumed off mumbling something about vermin and extreme torture methods.
Since that didn't work, my very violent buddy personally made sure that nothing was stolen. She sat in front of the van the entire night, and I'm pleased to say that nothing went missing that night, though I can't say I got any sleep. Grasswhistle apparently saw something move in the grass and had leapt up, cursing and yelling and the like, figuring it was a large predator of some sort. Which is semi reasonable, since not only is this place far out from the empty husk that was once called Jacksonville and close to the woods, but since the demise of most humans, animals like deer and bears and such started moving into the abandoned streets, raiding the stores for food and basically making me more jumpy and quicker to throw knives.
But the problem here is not only was that it was only a frightened goat that Grasswhistle scared away (that we could have easily eaten or kept), but that all the shouting and cursing and goats bleating woke me up. Now, you don't know me. When I get woken up in the middle of the night, I don't just shout "Be quiet!" and go back to bed. No, I have to go out there to see what the heck is going on, and nearly get stampeded to death by that goat and Grasswhistle storming after it.
As you can see I wasn't pleased.
I took it upon myself to gaurd the van that night, armed with nothing but my fists against a racoon bent on making my life miserable.
Now, in the middle of the night, hunkered in the grass beneath the van so the Racoon won't see me (so I can strangle it do death and dump it on Grasswhistle's head while she's sleeping), things get a bit boring, and you start to get sleepy, especially since yesterday night you got no sleep and you couldn't take the time off for a nap in the day. I was just about to drift off and have a nice nap when I hear someone coming through the woods. I expected it's just another harmless deer or something, but the noise still wakes me up a little and keeps me alert.
I get a pretty big shock when I see a ragged looking 7 year old, both emaciated and smelling like old laundry, slip out of the brush around the woods and start making his way towards your food. Since I'm pretty angry now at this kid for not only getting me stuck in a trap, but getting me trampled by a goat, and stay awake for 40 hours straight, I get ready to strangle him, and dump him on a sleeping Grasswhistle.
Staying silent, I hold my breath and brace myself for a fight and wait for that theif to get closer. Right when he stops in front of the van to slide/wrestle the rusted door open, I reach out and grab his ankle very quickly, dragging myself out from under the thing at the same time.
Seeing as its pretty freaky to have your leg grabbed by a hand coming from the dark space under a rusted out van near a forest at midnight in the apocalypse, the little thief did the natural thing and let loose a blood-curdling shriek mixed with colorful words, nearly shredding my eardrums. I hear some bleary muttering coming from the house before I finally get myself out from under the hippie van and tackle the kid and force him into the ground.
For someone whose 5 years younger than me, thin as a stick, and probably scared out of his wits, he put up a good fight. We tussled for a good minute or so before I managed to plant my foot on his chest and hold him on the ground. He kept up a steady stream of curses the entire time, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his spirit. Of course, this only infuriated him. He was glaring at me in an eeriely vicious manner, which normally would've made me start rolling on the floor, laughing my head off, but seeing the recent life events that have happened (namely the end of life as we know it), I'm a bit more solemn, and I managed to control myself until Grasswhistle came out, grumbling and rubbing her eyes.
"Hey, I got the thief," I said smugly, happy at both being right that it wasn't a racoon stealing from us, and having caught the stealer with my own hands the first time while she failed at catching him for two nights. Grasswhistle, too sleepy to care probably, growled something unitelligible and shook her head, possibly trying to wake up. I gestured for her to take over, seeing as even though she was less coordinated than a drunk monkey at the moment, I could always tackle him before he got too far. When Grasswhistle came over and put the 'racoon' in a headlock, I paced around him. He had stopped shouting as soon as Grasswhistle came out, and was merely muttering obscenities under his breath, pausing to glare at me every so often with smoldering eyes
After I was done checking him over, I bent forward and picked up a little scrap of paper that had fallen during our scuffle. When I turned it over, I noticed immediatley how the boy stiffened up and stopped cursing, and his gaze dropped. I looked at him for a minute, still in a head lock, and looked at the peice of paper.
It was torn up and ragged, but what the picture was of was unmistakable. Two adults were there, side by side in the sepia toned picture, smiling and waving. They were apparently the boy's parents, and were obviously dead. There was no mistaking it.
Frowning, I looked at it, and then looked back up at him. Then I sighed.
"Grasswhistle, let him go," I said. She didn't seem to register what I had said at first, then looked a little shocked.
"Let the little Racoon go? I think not," She scoffed, seeming to wake up a little more. I grunted at the older girl and pried her sleepy arms off of the boy. He glared at me for a moment, but didn't make a break for it as I guessed he would.
I handed him back the picture. He took it, then stuffed it in his pocket with one hand, using the other to rub the back of his neck a little nervously.
"Hey, I'm not going to chase you off or attack you again you know," I said. I guess I wanted this kid, to add some variety to the three faces I normally saw- Grasswhistle, and the two chickens. Sorta sad. Or maybe just to let him have a home.
Something along the lines of kindness I guess.
He nodded, then cracked a grin.
"Does that mean I get to stay?" He said with enthusiasm, completely different (and much much more cheerier) than before.
"No," Grasswhistle intoned dryly.
"Yes, he can. I found this house, I found you, therefore, it is my house, and you are under my roof, and my rules, so he get's to stay," I corrected her.
And so he was inducted into the clan. Grasswhistle kept on calling him a Racoon though, no matter how many times he told her his name was Terrence or something like that, until finally he accepted his fate and became COON!
Of course, he's only the third person in the group. Next I believe we met Dagger... Yup it was Dagger.

((not end, still more to come ^-^ if you like it, please post! It gives me the inspiration and helps me fill my big ego XD Oh and soon we might actually get to the point I dropped off at, where Jarrah and Coon are in the warehouse and are confronted by the mysterious adults :D))

[AngelInWaiting]

Yay, this one was long ^_^ It's getting more interesting with every post, I can't wait to meet Dagger.

(Does this help fill your ego? xD )

[DRdoctorlady]

XD yup. Thank you so much :D
I'm going to try to post more each time. The reason why the one above is so long is because I had a good 15 minutes to write it all out. I'm hoping on finishing up this chapter soon though ^^ we need to get to the real action.

[DRdoctorlady]

Chapter .5e
--------->Continuation

Well, seeing as Coon just moved in and we (as in me, Grasswhistle, and Coon) could send two people out to get stuff and still have one person at home, I decided that me and Coon would have a giant go-find-some-stuff-for-him day. He already had a smaller ish cuckoo clock (I'm not quite sure how he kept that with him or kept it wound but whatever) that he'd installed in our hide out, but he still needed a matress, blanket and pillows for his bed, his own toothbrush, etc. Plus living in the apocalypse guarantees short lines at the Wal-Mart, and prices slashed to 0$! Perfect oppurtunity for him to get some random crap to stick in his bunk and around the house, like I've already done before I met Grasswhistle.
So here we are, Coon sifting through the stuff in the toy section (I suppose he's still a kid, and might want some fun, especially fun that weights ten pounds and can barely fit in the backpacks, of which I already snagged one for him), me in the hunting section, handily close to aforesaid toy section, and the clothes section. While I normally hate shopping, I now have the liberty to run around the entire store and pick up whatever I want, which makes everything much better. I had already grabbed some clothes for Coon, since he was still wearing the shirt he ran away from home in, and was starting to fill up the backpack with food that would eventually expire but were good now. I had a bow and arrows slung on my back (because I had taken archery classes since I could walk), which, I suppose are useless compared to a gun, but hey, I just wanted bows and arrows, and look, some nice free ones right over there!
I was rifling through the arrow section when Coon jumped out from behind one of the isles, running at me, bouncing up and down with excitement.
"Can I keep it can I keep it can I keep it!" He yelled, bouncing even higher, brandishing something in the air.
"Stop bouncing for pete's sake!" I said, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and forcing him downwards. He showed me what was in his hands.
A very long, very dangerous, very sharp looking knife was sitting across his palms. It had a nice serrated edge near the hilt and an extremely sharp looking point. It had a rubber grip, which I supposed helped add to the infintismally small safety factor.
"Eh, sure why not," I shrugged. Okay, Okay probably not the best idea in the world to give a seven year old a knife like that, especially with such an evil grin on his face, but who cares really?
He smiled and attached it to his side with a little thingy doo and yawned. I patted him on the head and ruffled up the already very shaggy hair on his head, and felt a little happy. Sure the world had ended but I had this kid here that felt like he'd been my friend forever, all the mushy good stuff included.
That's when I heard something shifting in the clothing section and a dull thud. We already had a bad run in with rabid looking dogs on the way to the Wal-mart, and had nearly been bitten in half before I threw my one and only knife at one, and luckily killed it, distracting the others, giving us a little bit of a headstart in fleeing, which ultimately led us up a tree, where we waited until the dogs got bored and ran off.
Anyway,
I dragged Coon over to some abandoned boxes full of bananas already in variying stages of decomposition and shoved him behind the crates. I both sorta felt and heard something flying through the air towards us, and in a split second I had rolled over behind the bananas. Wow. Saved by bananas. I shall never mock them again.
Anyway,Coon being the seven year old he is, popped right back up from behind the shelter, furiously swearing. I tried to drag him back down again before some other unidentified flying object came and smacked him upside the head, but he stood up stubbornly, still keeping up a steady stream of cusswords.
I was going to have to teach this boy some manners some day.
He ducked though when another silver object came hurtling towards him, coming from somewhere in the clothes section.
"What the-" Coon started again, but someone cut him off.
"Who's there?" I heard a male voice say. It didn't sound very old. Definitely another kid. I warily peered in the cracks between the banana boxes. Another kid stood there, three knives/daggers still jangling around his waist, two more in his hands, and a peculiar looking one hanging on a leather thong on his neck. It was vaguely curved, sorta like a sickle, but still a dagger, with the line in the middle distorted, like someone had pulled it left and right and got frustrated halfway through trying to make it straight. The color was off, sort of shiny and discolored.
Of course, all were still very sharp and forbidding.
I just sat there and stared for a while, analyzing him. He didn't look particularily strong, just had a bunch of sharp objects. His hair was definitely long enough to be yanked in a fight, and his fingernails looked fairly harmless. Supposing he didn't have his daggers, I probably could've taken him down right there. But unofortunately, he didn't seem in any danger of losing any of those precious weapons.
So I waited. I didn't take out my bow and arrows. Didn't really want to kill him, just wanted to get out of here.
Then Daggerboy got frustrated and stuck the knives he was holding back into his pockets.
"Fine see, no knives! God, it's not that hard," He said, throwing up his hands. I nodded to Coon and we both stood up. I for one, was not usually a potty mouth, but just then I let loose a tirade of swear words that would've made even Racoon proud. In fact, he sort of just stared at me, a little surprised at my outburst, while I continued on. At one point he started backing away, either scared or avoiding any spittle. Dagger boy just shrugged and took the verbal beating, looking slightly amused, which set me off even more. He stuffed his hands into his pockets at one point, (not his pants pockets where he stuck the knives, his jacket one) and actually started whistling. I was sort of hoping he'd turn and run and I could take him down. But he just stood there, letting himself be sworn at.
"Who do you think you even are? Throwing knives at us and asking us to freaking show ourselves? How retarded are you?" I started to cool down a bit, and stopped for him to answer, planting my hands on my hips, knowing quite well that I probably looked both deranged and murderous at the moment. He looked a little frightened, possibly questioning my sanity at the moment.
"I believe I asked the first question," He said mildly, brushing hair out of his face.
I fumed for a minute while Coon took over with the swearing and such.
"Fine!" I barked when Coon was done. "Jarrah. It's a pleasure to meet you," I said sarcastically, flipping him off.
He chuckled. "I believe you need to work on some of your manners Jarrah."
"Says the boy who chucked knives at us," I glared at him again. He just shrugged.
"Didn't know you were human. Hard to tell with a face like that," He said. I was practically about to run forward and rip his head off when he tilted his head to the side, as if concentrating really hard.
"Oh. Hmm, I hear a baby crying," He muttered, tapping his head. I glanced at Coon to see if he was buying it. It didn't matter anyway because Daggerboy just started running away.
"You're not getting away that easy!" I snarled, and took off after him.
We chased him out the back doors and into a neighborhood insanely close to the Wal-Mart. He ran harder away from us, but Coon shot ahead of me somehow and managed to get right behind him. I started to hear something on the very edge of my hearing... Crying? Was that weirdo telling the truth?
He swerved away from the main sidewalk and hurtled through the slightly ajar front door. I heard his footsteps slow once he was inside.
I put in an extra burst of speed until I was running up the driveway and was standing in the front door.
Now, its just a good rule not to go into a mysterious house. There could be dogs, there could be bears, there could even be dead bodies bearing the Scourge. Also, the smell is heinous- all full of sewage trapped in the toilets and decomposing food and sour milk and other more nasty things. Never good to go in them.
So of course I walked right on in, Coon following hesitantly behind me.
The stink I had been smelling as soon as I had entered the city immediatley got worse when I walked in, sort of liked getting slapped in the face with it. I plugged my nose and followed the sounds. The crying I may have been hearing had dropped to low whimpers, which could've been anything. Many animals can whimper. Could just be a bunch of puppies and a hormonal mother dog gaurding them.
I walked in until I saw Dagger standing in the archway leading to the kitchen. I trotted slowly in next to him and nearly vomited.
There was a dead body, festering and rotting, disgustingly new, only one or two days old. I saw a line of ants marching up to it, saw how the body's skin had been having its skin picked slowly away, how blood leaked into a dark pool on the floor. How the eyes rolled back in the head, the mouth pulled into an eternal scream. I saw the pain, all the pain, and the way it looked fresh. The body must have been a boy, only 12 at the mots. How terribly young to die.
How terribly sad.
I puked up my lunch right then and there, and had a nasty taste in my mouth as well as a nasty stench in my nose. The boy near me looked distraught, his eyes wide open. He wasn't saying anything.
I crouched down and forbade Coon to come any closer. The body could still have the disease in it, dying off yes, but still there.
A sudden burst of hiccuping startled me. Glancing around, I pinpointed where the noise came from.
I saw a small little girl, 1 or 2 at the max, with little blonde curls, hiccuping in the corner near the body. She looked like death, small and thin and thirsty. She barely sat up. Her dull blue eyes, half closed, had deep black shadows under her eyes, and her cheeks were sunken in, lacking the usual baby fat. Without a second thought, I got up and was about to go and retrieve her, but Dagger reached forward and grabbed my wrist, his face a hard mask. I didn't make him let go.
"What is it Daggerboy?" I said, my tone muted and less vicious than I would've thought.
"She might be sick with the Scourge," He whispered, his voice quiet.
"So? That body is only one days old at the minimum. If she was sick, she would have symptoms by now-she would be twitching and coughing. Does she look like she's twitching and coughing?" I demanded. He shook his head, and before I could go get the girl myself, he had hopped over the body, snatched her up, and came back, holding her carefully.
((more tomorrow! Just can't finish this right now... This chapter will soon be closing up as Coon comes up with an idea later... No more spoilers for you!
Oh and after you've met everyone and I've done another chapter after that, there will be a contest ^-^))

[AngelInWaiting]

Ahhh, this chapter was so good, I want to read more! xD Suspenssssse

[DRdoctorlady]

((heh hehh thanks XD, soz I didn't post yesterday, I twas busy reading five books... I shall update soon, I SWEAR OF IT!))

[DRdoctorlady]

((short update--REALLY SORRY!))
Chapter .5 f
-------->Continuation
He solemnly looked at me, and without a word, we stepped away from the terrible room and started walking out the door. The little girl in his arms didn't stir at all, only pausing for a minute to look at the sky and blink slowly when we exited the house and into the bright sunlight. She looked painfully thin and had deep black shadows under her eyes, which were dull and lifeless. I felt a small wave of sorrow for her.