Silverwind plodded down the cracked and battered surface of a road, winding its' way through the landscape. The blacktop, melted and hardened over and over under the harshness of the elements and battered by years of harsh weather, cracked under his hooves; glass melted into its' surface. Rusting and wrecked vehicles dotted the road; and buildings in various states of decay rose above gardens long returned to their natural wild state.
The horse adjusted the straps of the pack over his shoulders; he was on his way back from a job. He'd carried some medical supplies to a small settlement in the ruins of a town a couple over from his normal stomping grounds. Luckily he hadn't too much trouble; he'd been running the roads long enough to know to look out for bandits and where they were, and he had a few good hiding spots and caches of gear he'd managed to stow around to keep himself out of trouble.
In some ways, he liked this life a lot more than his old one. Sure, there were problems and things he missed; no cable TV, no new movies, no internet and no power worth a damn. Not to mention, not much in the way of running water, or amenities... but it had its' upsides. Before the bombs fell, he was living in the red zone; he'd been about to be evicted and have his electricity and water cut off. He was working a crappy job where his boss gave him hassle, and lived in a crappy part of town.
Now, there was nobody chasing him for money, and his job was useful - he carried things from place to place, and was able to be pretty flexible on when and where he did it. Sure, there were added dangers - monsters, bandits, radiation and terrifying weather were only some of the things to worry about, but with preparation they could be dealt with.
In some ways, yes, this world almost suited him better. Though; he wasn't so keen on some aspects of it.
Taking another pause to sip at water from the canteen on his belt, the equine looked ahead at the city buildings, his ears twitching. That's odd, he thought as he frowned. I'm sure I heard a gunshot just now-
His train of thought was cut off as he heard a sound he'd never expected to hear again. Ears swivelling further, he quickly looked up, scanning the skies from horizon to horizon. Because, unbelievably, he heard the thudding of helicopter rotors, and the whine of engines.
"What the hell?" he uttered as he watched in disbelief. Unmistakably, it was a Blackhawk. He recognized the type from news reports, and seeing them on exercises and manoeuvers before the war. It crossed, low and fast, approaching from the horizon and heading over the city.
Before he could reall register it, it was gone. But the horses' curiousity was peaked. If someone had aircraft, he wanted to know who they were. Was it the government? If not, who was it, and what were they up to?
Making a decision, he headed in the direction the helicopter had been moving in, heading toward the city and its' high-rising buildings. Every so often, he turned his eyes skyward, still trying to work out if maybe he'd imagined it. All the same, he kept moving in the same direction, until the buildings began to rise around him. Grimacing, he began to look around cautiously.
He tried to avoid the big cities; they were hives for the most dangerous creatures and hostile forces. But in this case, going around would be too time-consuming. Instead, he shifted his SMG around on its' sling and began to move forward with it held in both hands, setting each hoof down carefully as he went to avoid making too much noise.
Topic: Desolation 2: Begin again (Read 7897 times)