“That is a lot of blood.” Nowak observed.
It really was. They were clearing the homes around the longhouse. Each they’d come across was marred with black stains on the floors and walls. Every so often they came across bones that looked vaguely humanoid. One such example was actually pinned to the wall beside them with a knife.
There were more than a few homes like that, mostly they’d found remains of people that looked like they’d torn each other apart.
“Maybe the town wasn’t abandoned so much as wiped off the face of the earth.” Cortez noted.
“By some other group, you think?” Adams asked. He was gathering wood from a nearby fireplace. The longhouse was thankfully empty, and they were looking forward to using the firepit inside.
“If it was, they did a shit job of looting the place.” Cortez said. She was right, they might not know much about these people, but they did know that when a house had been looted, you’ll know the difference. Most of the homes they’d checked still had some expensive, albeit useless odds and ends lying around. They had, of course, stuffed what they could into the Humvee under Asle’s instruction as to what was “nice”.
“Check this out.” Cortez called over. She was holding a longsword up to the light. By the stains on the blade, and the corpse at Cortez’s feet, Summers could imagine where she’d found it. Well it wasn’t like the dead guy would mind. The sword itself was in great shape even despite its origins, with subtle curves that bled into the hilt.
Cortez gave it a few test swings, the material flexing as the edge caught against a nearby table. It sank into the wood with little resistance.
“Shit.” Cortez started, pulling the blade free from the wood. “My bad.”
“You done playing with that thing?” Summers asked.
“Yeah. It’s pretty, but not my type.” Cortez said as she tossed the sword on the table.
Nowak considered the sword, then picked it up and stepped on the flat of the blade, testing his weight against it. “Gives me an idea, though.”
“I got something.” Adams called over. He had a huge piece of leather in his hands. “I think it’s a map.”
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The “map” was more symbolic than anything else. It reminded Summers of a scavenger hunt he’d participated in as a kid. Apparently, cartography wasn’t high on the priority list in this world. The good news was it showed the road south of the town lead to a city of some sort. Or at least a bigger town.
The red marks at the side of said road could only be interpreted one way.
“Means monster.” Asle said, pointing to the red territory to the right. “Big one.”
“Yeah I sort of figured.” Summers noted.
The map was useful in that it at least gave them landmarks they could match to. And let them know of a few roads that should exist in one state or another.
Summers left the others to look over the map and instead moved towards the fire, god was it nice to have a fire. The longhouse wasn’t in great condition, he could feel the cool night air leaking in through the cracks in the wall, but it still beat standing in the cold.
A loud, metallic groan caught Summers’ attention. He looked over to see Nowak bending the sword they’d found into a type of “r” shape. He had the hilt in hand while the blade was jammed in some bricks near the far wall.
“Sarge what in the hell are you doing?” Summers asked.
“Making our friend a replacement leg.” Nowak answered, still trying to bend the sword. He was surprised it didn’t just break outright.
“Like a running blade?”
Nowak grunted as he stood on top of the blade, needing to grab a handhold and push himself down. The blade protested, but eventually gave just a little more.
“Hey, it bends. And it can probably hold his weight. I think we can rig together something to secure it to the leg, would you mind getting him? I want to get the height right.”
“If you say so.” Summers he had his doubts it would work but it gave the man something to look forward to. He headed outside and found Logan on the roof of the longhouse, Asle asleep beside him. He was looking through the scope of a rifle at something in the distance.
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“All clear up there?” Summers called up, the last thing you wanted to do was surprise someone with a finger near their trigger. He almost regretted it as he saw Asle stir, well he was probably going to wake her up trying to get up there anyway.
“Yeah, just some fog, looks sort of weird though.” Logan said in response.
Summers made an awkward attempt to crawl up the nearly vertical roof. As he made it up, he saw what Logan was talking about. Fog was starting to roll in from the distance. A sheer wall of it in every direction.
“Yeah, that is a little weird.” Summers saw Asle quirk her head at him.
“Fawg?” Asle asked.
“Fog.” Summers pointed to the distant clouds that were rolling in. “You know fog?”
“Fog?!” Asle yelled, now fully awake. “Yeft! No. Um.” She paused, thinking. “Poison!” She said, pointing at the incoming fog.
“Excuse me?” Was all Summers could manage.
“Death!” She said, still pointing at the huge mass of fog coming at them.
Okay...
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Summers vaulted over the barricade they’d made at the longhouse door. “Sarge, do we have gas masks?!”
“What?” Nowak asked, understandably more than a little confused.
Summers pointed at the door, “Giant cloud of poison heading our way. Masks?”
“Yeah I saw them. I don’t know if we have enough though.” Cortez said.
“Get them, now!” He watched Cortez bolt out the door, “Sarge I’m not sure what’s going on myself but there’s some fog rolling in and Asle says it will kill us. And there’s a lot of it.”
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Cortez was digging through the top of the Humvee. “Motherfucker of course they’re at the bottom.”
“Why are they at the bottom?!” Summers yelled.
“Because I didn’t think we’d need them!” Cortez answered.
“Anyone remember seeing a basement?” Nowak asked.
“If there was somewhere to hide, I don’t think this place would be abandoned!” Summers called back.
Nowak considered that for a second, then rushed to the Humvee with Summers. “Why are they at the bottom?!” It had occurred to him to be on the lookout for something that could kill a town full of people. They had likely found it.
Cortez reached under a rack of M4’s, she could see the box she’d stored the masks away in, but it was too far back to reach. “Asle we need you over here!” She hoped the girl could open the box without having to move the mountain of crap on top of it.
“Poison!” Asle said, pointing at the fog again.
“We know!” Summers barked back. And then he realized he was yelling at a, likely terrified, child who was just trying to warn them about her world’s fucked up ecosystem. “Come here we need help!” He said, gesturing to the Humvee.
Asle ran over, Cortez pointed in the gap she was holding open, “Open the green box towards the back!”
Asle understood immediately, she dove into the opening. Summers looked at the approaching fog, it was closer now, towering over the small town at least 10 stories high.
“Sarge what if these don’t work?” Adams was staring in a mix of terror and confusion.
“I know I’m thinking!” Nowak looked around frantically.
Summers noticed the fog only reached a few stories up, if there weren’t any airtight rooms in the longhouse, maybe they could get on the roof. “We need to get to some high ground.”
Nowak nodded, “Roof, then try and get into the tree.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Logan asked, he was propping himself up on his good leg.
“Try!” Nowak yelled back.
Asle returned a moment later with a gas mask in hand, Cortez took it and she headed back into the opening.
“Summers!” Cortez called over, he grabbed the offered mask, quickly securing it to his head. Almost immediately Asle came out with another that Nowak handed up to Logan.
“I got it, get clear!” Summers called out, grabbing the edge of the crate Cortez was holding up. She took the next mask for herself while Summers held the bulk of the crap they’d piled on the Humvee.
Asle made two more trips before she came out for a final time, empty handed. “It’s stuck!”
He could see the mask snagged on the butt of a rifle through the opening.
Summers looked at the fog, it was seconds away from the gates and Asle was the only one without a mask on. Son of a bitch.
He tore off his mask and jammed it on Asle’s head with probably a little more force than he needed to. “I’ll get it, get on the roof!”
She was already running when he reached into the opening. He pulled with all his weight, and the gas mask came free with a tear. Screw it these things had more than enough straps as it was. He pulled it on his head making sure it was tight enough before he started climbing up the side of the longhouse, after the others.
Then the fog hit them, it silently slammed into the town’s gates, pooling into the streets below. Like a tide it began flowing over the walls and through the gaps of the crudely built homes. Summers was already on the roof, but it was rising faster than he would have expected.
Cortez was helping Logan to a higher branch, he looked to see Asle contemplating the jump. For Christ sake they’d left the kid to try and clear the distance on her own. He sprinted across the roof, grabbing her by the waistband and jumped. He landed awkwardly, Asle in one arm and the other wrapped for dear life around the largest branch he could find. He hefted the girl up to the higher branches of the tree. She took off like only someone in a state of panic could. He followed suit, climbing as if his life depended on it, which it likely did. At a quick glance he saw Asle was already almost halfway up, damn that kid could move.
He reached for the next branch and felt a cool wetness on his leg, the fog was already up to his waist by the time he noticed it. He moved a little faster, hoping against hope the mask did its job.
Then the fog overtook him, and he realized the mistake he’d made. Reaching a hand up to his head he understood it wasn’t a strap that he’d torn, it was the filter.
“Oh.”
He could taste the change in the air. Almost immediately he felt something in his body seize, and his grip on the branch loosened.
As Summers fell, there was only one thought in his head.
“This is such a stupid way to die.”