The Dead World Ch. 02

The twinge of smoldering wood tickled her nostrils. She drew in a slow, stinging breath of it, coughing in desperation to clear her lungs of the smoke from the burning oak branches as it choked her. Her eyes snapped open, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she writhed in pain. She had hit the ground, hard, and her head felt as if someone had very literally tried to crack it in two.

Dark, thick lashes fluttered as she tried to focus her vision. Her eyelids were heavy, a cheek pressed hard to red clay, bits of gravel biting into her flesh. As the woman stirred, she felt the throb of her head rocket into piercing pain, racing through her body from the tender point of origin at her temple.

A quiet whimper swelled in her throat, instinct driving her to shift her hands to aid her in standing, only to realize immediately how impossible that would be. Her hands had been secured firmly behind her back, and judging by the numb tingling sensation in her slender fingers, she had been like this for some time.

The strength of whatever they had tied her with wouldn't allow her to wriggle her wrists free. As she made a valid attempt, the thin bit of plastic material bit into her wrists. She wasn't getting out of this without a blade of some sort. Calm down... Her thoughts urged her. Calm down—d-don't panic... you.. you have to think...

She felt tears welling in her eyes as she began to struggle, another soft whimper smothered between her lips as she heard heavy steps and the stir of voices. Laughter. She squeezed her eyes shut as they came closer, praying they noticed nothing out of sorts. She fell still... deathly still.

"Scrawny 'lil shit, ain't he?"

"Probably why they left him behind. He's big enough to fire off, if he needs to... pequeño was packing some serious punch in that Prius. You check him good?" Diablo stopped just before their presumed captive, and stooped down to get a better look at the wound on his head, dabbing at it gently with a wet cloth. It was everything Charlotte had not to wince too visibly, choking down a pained breath. "Psh, sure as fuck clocked him good... don't think it was necessary, ese. He's just a lil' guy."

"He ain't have nothin' but a blade at his ankle, a taser in his back pocket and a machete on his back. Mousy lil' fuck ain't cuttin' through nothin' livin', thats for sure. I ain't want him lettin' all his buddies know we were camped out on the other side of the pond... eh, he'll live. I ain't hit him in the jaw neither, so he can talk when he comes to."

"Maybe... if he's by himself we should drag him to Raleigh... he don't look too well fed. Lil' skinny thing like him could be good for getting into places we can't fit in, too, on the way. Good for supply sweeps. Maybe his boys ran into some trouble, never came back?"

"He'll tell us what he knows, soon enough." The mellow tones of their second in command mused, an edge of irritation still lacing his deep voice as he walked passed and glanced down to their captive, hands shifting to rest on the bullet-laced belt around his waist. His eyes shot to Ricky. "He looks really young. Where there's boys, there's the dear women who bore them... if we're lucky."

"Luck is there'll be more than one. I don't like to share." Slash stated dryly and grabbed the back of Dog's hooded jacket as he passed, a wild grin spreading across the youth's lips. The younger male stumbled back and slid his lanky arms from the jacket rapidly in order to free himself from falling or being pulled in too closely. He drew out his hunting knife as he spun to face Slash, and raised his chin defiantly as if to challenge him before flicking the rugged older man off, eliciting an uproarious laugh from the mechanic and their medic.

"No woman's gonna wanna touch your crazy ass anyways!" Lorenzo's bemused words turned into a full on laugh as he watched his companions around the fire. Dog took a swing at the older man with the blade in hand, who stepped back, and easily caught his fist in his own palm before the youngster dropped his knife to his free hand to tuck it into the breast pocket of his jacket good-naturedly.

He once again brandished a bony middle finger square in the scarred face of his mentor with a roguish grin, and Ricky tossed the youngster's leather jacket toward him, only for Dog to swat it away. He didn't pay much mind as it dropped over Charlotte's head, disturbing her beanie and goggles and causing her to grit her teeth hard and curse inwardly... but all the same, she realized very quickly she had been handed a golden opportunity.

"For a lil' shit with no tongue you sure as fuck cuss me out all the time—where ya put the smokes, boy?"

A languid shrug was his response, and he gestured with a lazy wave to the still Charlotte on the ground, suggesting the other youngster in the group had confiscated them. Ricky laughed, glancing down for a second before back up to see the Dog offering him a set of the stale cancer sticks with a comical, sweeping bow.

"Yeah sure, blame the new kid... ya ain't shit, gone—git!"

Danny reached down to swipe his jacket from atop the other boy, looking down at the youngster's face almost sympathetically, but only for a split second.. He quickly reached down and tugged the other youngster's hat down firmly so that his little ears weren't met with the cool night air before lazily stalking off into the darkness with disturbingly quiet steps of his own. He was entirely oblivious that his hunting knife was now missing.

"And for yer information, ess-eyy, I probably had more ass in a week than ya have in yer entire life."

"Family members don't count—ouch—cabron! Chupa mi pinga—ahahaha, fucker!" The mechanic flung an empty glass bottle at Diablo, who ran off toward the Humvee, the soft drumming of old-school rock radiating quietly from it. Just beyond was the rest of the caravan—the black RV that the brothers shared and the old Yukon truck Ruthless had acquired along the way. The little green Prius their unwilling guest had tried to sneak off with in the night was nestled with all of its boon in the center of the caravan, in the event that their little captive happened to get loose and tried to make a dash for it.

As the men cleared away from her, Charlie opened her eyes. The fire wasn't too far off, and the knife had been eased just beneath her once she wrestled it from the leather confines, safely out of sight. Getting it back around to her hands and getting her binds cut was the real struggle, and she had precious time to accomplish the feat. Before she could begin sawing away at the bindings however, back one of them came, and she snapped her eyes shut once again.

Her head was still pounding. Everything sounded a little off. She wanted to know who had returned, and as the steps stopped, she could feel the presence lurking over her. A set of hands grasped the edge of her jacket, lifting her gently, and shifting her onto her back.

The fingers dipped just beneath her body, poking and prodding a bit before shifting to the zipper of her jacket, and tugging it down quickly. From there nimble digits gently probed the inner workings of the leather coat and then, just as quickly as they were there, they were gone. They reappeared to check her jean pockets, so subtle she might have barely noticed it... and they disappeared once more.

Cold fingertips teased her calf and ankle, the tops of her boots, and then there was nothing. No sound, no breath. Within moments she heard footsteps darting off, back into the darkness of the forest along the shore of the canal.

Her fingertips tightened around the knife as she struggled to her side and began to press it against the solid plastic digging against her skin. She gritted her teeth and drew in a deep breath, wriggling her digits as much as possible in an attempt to saw at the material. It was hell. Her fingers were numb and her wrists stung with every rough motion.

Adrenaline began to pump through her bloodstream, making Charlie feel ever so slightly queasy, her heart racing in her ears and as she tried to keep herself focused. All the while her breath quickened, and she felt the blade sharply kiss her flesh twice now, hardly noticing the soft treading of boots returning.

She was brought to her own feet quite suddenly by the forearms, biting her tongue sharply to hold in the soft gasp of surprise. She found herself being pressed forward and away from the campfire. A bright light flooded the darkness just up ahead and she could vaguely make out a dark gray and black door, which swung open to a dimly lit modern lounge of the RV camper.

The knife held deathly tight in her hands was grasped by the young man who had whisked her off through the darkness, carefully slicing through the binds before disappearing into the breast pocket of Danny's jacket once more. Charlie turned her head ever so slightly to glance back at him, observing his smirk and the playful wink of his hazel eyes before he shoved her roughly toward the lounge sofa. As her own honey brown eyes shot back at him venomously, he grinned, dark hair haphazard before his gaze as he mouthed the word with a firm jab of his pointer finger. 'Sit.'

"Who the fuck are you people?!" Charlie snapped with her best attempts at turning a silky soft voice into that of a youngster in his teens, faltering with the slight lilt that laced her desperate demand. Danny stared at her for a moment before his shoulders rose and fell, and he briskly turned and exited the RV, leaving Charlotte to rub her wrists tenderly.

The light in the RV was motion sensored, so after perhaps three hours of sitting in the camper waiting for ...something... to happen, Charlie found herself awakened by sudden bright lights. She almost forgot what artificial lights looked like. She kept the lights off and removed bulbs in her suite to conserve energy.

Before her now in this very real and threatening reality were a pair of very serious looking men. They were taller than her by a head, easily... one of them was obviously older, quite a bit, and the other perhaps closer to her age. She observed them nervously, slowly, one at a time.

The older of them seemingly more calm and collected in the moment, and the younger amused, and rather impatient. He rested his hand gently at his holstered weapon on his hip, a belt of bullets holding faded well fit Levi jeans in their place. A bandana hung at his neck, a well fitting and cared for black leather jacket with fur lining the hood dressing his torso.

The older of the pair of them was also armed... but not with a firearm, at least not that she saw immediately. A sword hung on his waist. It appeared to be quite formidable even sheathed, with a thick blade and solid polished obsidian stone hilt. His hair was ever so slightly unkempt giving him a rugged appearance and stubble lined his strong jaw, but he wore a gentle non-threatening smile, and his arms hung freely. He clearly meant no harm... and his eyes looked tired.

The younger man with shorter ever so slightly spiked dark hair leaned against the door of the camper slowly, and crossed his arms over his chest, almost as if daring Charlie to try and make a run for it.

"Let me apologize for how my man treated you out there." Oz started, slowly, seeking eye contact with what appeared to be a rather dirty and roughed up youngster.

"It's just... well... you come on out, loaded up in a car with a bunch of stuff inside all dark and secretive, and we can't help but to wonder what you're out there for? Or why didn't you make yourself known when we arrived earlier?"

Oz started slowly, and moved the desk chair away from the desk, keeping a reasonable distance between himself and their guest. Charlie watched him with nervous, wordless apprehension, and he started again with a gentle unassuming tone. "It's well after sundown and you leave a place that looks pretty gnarly from back here. You could've been a suicide bomber for all we knew. He was only taking precautions."

Her eyes shifted slowly to Colton once more despite the slow and almost friendly tone Oz addressed her in, the soft chuckle he threw in to try and lower her defenses. Colton, standing at the door, flashed straight white teeth in a sneer and stared harshly into Charlotte's eyes. "You're not... leaving."

"Hey—listen, nobody's holding you hostage, here... okay? Relax. You'll be able to go on back home, just as soon as you tell us what you were doing... where your family is. We just need to talk to you. We need you to be very, very honest with us. Do you understand?"

Fooling a teenager, or younger man, was easy. But she couldn't quite find her voice at that moment. These were grown, likely intelligent and dangerous men she was dealing with now. She felt numb almost, unable to think, or remember what it was she had to do—realizing very much how royally fucked she now was. How badly she needed Matt here with her.

Her best bet was to hope they believed she was at the resort alone and that she had left the majority of her supplies there, and only took enough to get where she needed to go... nothing more or less.

"...You can just nod, or shake your head if that's easier for you."

She nodded her head with the suggestion perhaps a bit more vigorously than she intended, and stopped on a dime when she realized how nervous she truly was. Her teeth clenched hard, and she settled her eyes on Oz, who easily seemed to be the person she needed to win over. He certainly seemed far less intimidating than Skully, who had yet to tear his fierce blue eyes away from her.

"Now... the resort up there on the hill, how long have you been up there?"

Charlie trained her soft brown eyes nervously on Oz, and uttered in a low voice just above a whisper, trying to wipe any trace of feminine essence as she spoke in a deadpan tone. "Six years."

Colt smothered a chuckle, and Oz shot him a sharp leer, though the disbelief was apparent on his face. "Jesus Christ... just holed up the whole time? I guess that's... actually smart. Probably nothing much left in there though, huh? Where are your friends?"

"I... don't have any friends—"

"Bullshit—"

"Skully." Oz reprimanded him sharply, and in an instant, the RV door swung open and Colton disappeared, slamming it none too gently behind him in a clear expression of his temper. It was more than likely a regular thing... he clashed with Oz more often than not, especially when it came to leadership. The space seemed instantly less tense without the younger man present.

Oz focused again on the now shaken and grave looking 'teenager' who's eyes had sunk to the floor. The boyish youth was tapping his foot nervously. His arms had crossed over his chest, betraying his anxiety and discomfort.

"Again, I apologize. Manners escape my brother when he thinks we're faced with a potential threat. We don't usually make too many, ah... 'friends'.. as we travel these days. Judging by the graffiti, your group's idea of fun—that real fucked up wall of zombies your friends set up to stop visitors from coming in—?"

"That was Matt..."

Charlie swallowed hard and spoke up firmly. She waited for a moment before speaking again, "He messed up the north tower after the people in the settlements around us were murdered... or ran. I guess he meant to keep the people who did it away. I don't really remember my last trip out. Two years ago? Maybe three?"

The quiet voice of the young man was almost... sweet. And yet he could hear so much sorrow beneath it. Oz read this youth, and determined that he was telling him the truth. He was much too frightened or agitated at this point to lie efficiently, and seemed the farthest thing from the hostile offspring of a deranged group of lunatics he was half expecting. He regretted letting his trigger happy team treat him so roughly.

"Right. So, there's one other at least. Who is Matt, to you? The rest of your group, what're their names?"

"There's no one else. It was just us. We were family." Tears began to well within her eyes, her slim fingers balling into small fists against her thighs. "It... It's just me... now." Her voice was low--a growling almost whisper of a thing. She tried to throw some manner of low twist to it, and hoped the man didn't stare too long at her face with her round cheeks, full lips and long eyelashes. Emotion rang raw in her tones, and she quickly moved her gloved hands to rub the tears from her eyes, careful not to push the soil rubbed onto her cheeks into them.

There was silence after that, and the man's deep, dark blue eyes focused on her for a long few moments before he nodded his head very slowly.

"I see..."

Charlie licked her lips after another extended moment of silence and shifted on the soft felt of the couch, uncomfortably, her fingertips drumming now at her thighs as she pushed her thoughts of her lost love to the farthest most places of her mind. The stillness between them was broken finally with a slow and uncertain phrase.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Seems like we all lose these days though, don't we?" Oz stood up, and slid the desk chair back into its place.

"Well, we aren't planning to set up here. Winter is on its way. We're headed up north believe it or not, to the location we were given from a Western community that moved on over to a growing safezone in Raleigh. The cold slows the geeks down, so that's always a plus... you are more than welcome to join us young man, if you're truly alone. It's hard out here in a group. It's almost impossible alone. I hope you won't mind that we've secured some of your supplies, for the cause. I'm sure you understand. It's nothing personal. Raleigh might be the last standing civilization here in America, though... and we have come a very, very long way. We might just be the ones responsible for saving the human race. They will need as many of us as they can."

"T-thank you." Her stuttered words were blurted hastily. She knew better than to argue, to pick a fight with this man--or any of them for that matter. She expected to lose the supplies, but Charlie knew deep down she suffered to lose far more if these men were the sort of men Matthew encountered on his last foraging trips.

"I'll see to something strong, for that, with no dues." Oz gestured to the tender wound upon her head. "You're welcome to bunk in the back room tonight as our guest. Tomorrow... I think I would like for you to give us a tour of the hotel. It actually looks like we might be able to rig something up and enjoy some fancy living for a little while before we head north."

The words were a bit distorted once again, and Charlie found herself staring at the man before her in a groggy haze, the room slowly starting to turn itself upside down. Oz's brow furrowed, and she reached out gently, breath stirring ever so slightly in an incoherent murmur. The man had grasped her forearms to keep her from falling forward and gently tugged her to her feet.

"Hey, whoa... easy—come on. I think you got hit a little harder than you realize."

"N-no.. no I'm... I got it—I can... I..." Her voice trailed off as consciousness slipped away, and Oz easily caught the tumbling Charlie, bringing her into his arms, holding her as he might carry a child. He carried her back into the room and set her gently on the bed before turning and heading back toward the door, glancing back at the wounded youngster and debating for a moment whether or not removing the beanie and goggles and tending that gash was something he wanted to do.

He opted against, and headed on out nevertheless--he would have Diablo check it out, as their resident medic he was far better equipped to handle it than Oz himself. Probably better to have him checked out quickly. Slash might have given the poor boy a concussion, hitting him with the butt of his rifle like that... he didn't know much but he knew that he needed to be brought back to the conscious world quickly.