Kyto was the name he remembered being called by his nanna. He sat huddled under a blanket in the old farmhouse he had made his current home. When his ocular display flashed up, wishing him a 'happy birthday', he had just turned 20.
His earliest memory was the face of an old, wizened woman who used to tell him stories about the past and how things had changed over the years. He used to be entranced by her stories and would sit listening to them for hours. His parents died during a Wild One attack when he was just a baby, and Nanna and the others in the group had raised him as their own since that time.
The Scavvies were scavengers. They made the most of what they could with anything they found. Many were skilled free thinkers and had developed specialisms across varying skill trees like physics and engineering. Some had focussed heavily on biology and became pretty decent medics.
Scavvies were not fighters; their lifestyle made them well-balanced in acrobatics and endurance. They were nomadic and travelled around abandoned towns and cities looking for the next best source of merchandise until they came upon the few viable townships that survived the world's apocalyptic hellscape.
It was within these few townships where they could sell their wares. Many sought books to help re-educate people on how things worked with no internet available to gain insight on agriculture, mechanical repair and medicine, things that once had little to no value, now were more precious than diamonds. Kyto and the Scavvies had only been a small band of around thirty and had lived in isolation, a peaceful existence. That was until the day a raiding group had hit and pillaged them.
They had been staying on a farm on the outskirts of an area called Washington, D.C., when the group came under attack. It had been early morning, and Kyto remembered waking up to the blood-curdling screams of the raiders as they attacked the settlement.
Raiders were renowned for violence, and many a settlement he had visited over the years since had their own horror stories of the suffering caused by them. By trait, they didn’t care for anyone apart from themselves, and a raider's life existed around murder, rape, slavery, theft and drugs.
Old films depicted a reality where certain items held value above all others. During their stay at the farm, they had been searching the outskirts for copper wires, for the demand for the resource in the larger townships had surged. The trade of wire had increased since the resurgence of electrical engineering. As they returned, several renowned free thinkers specialised in the discipline and various specialist areas of engineering.
Society was still decades behind where it had been before the Falling but was quickly progressing again with regular technological discoveries. Thankfully, many of the ancient texts had survived, and the knowledge they contained supported this progress.
Kyto vividly remembered watching one such film where they had found an old screen and a machine that had played small circular discs. That was one of his favourite memories of the month they had spent at an old warehouse district. Kyto, along with the other Scavvies, found a generator and a small supply of fuel, and it had been a highlight for the entire group to sit and watch some old discs. He could not remember the film's title, but it seemed like their lives now. All he could remember was that name… Max.
Raiding parties' sole purpose was gain, and they didn’t care who they hurt. Kyto had only been 11 at the time of the raid and was too young to do anything to help or stop the bloodshed. He watched from his hiding place inside a barn as the raiders systematically rounded up all the other Scavvies within their group. Various depraved and horrific means had been used to execute most of the males and older. That which scared him the most was seeing the leader of their group, a man called Jasper, being tied between two vehicles, his body slowly ripped apart as the screams of tormented agony carried over the sound of the vehicle engines and applauding cheer and laughter from the raiders.
Jasper had become a surrogate father to Kyto, a bear of a man who was also gentle and loved by the entire group. He had always accommodated Kyto, even as a young child, when he used to interrupt him and jump on his knee for attention. When he closed his eyes, he could still vividly see Jasper’s entrails drawn across the yard. At witnessing Jasper's downfall, two group members immediately swore allegiance to the raiders to save themselves from a similar fate. Loyalty was a word spoken but rarely lived out. Whoever had the bigger stick normally had the larger following.
The women of childbearing age were bound along with any children who could provide potential worth in the future. Both are viewed as a resource and asset rather than a human life. As the raiders plundered what little supplies were left, they considered it a reward for a successful raid. He rarely thought about his past because Kyto dreaded the thoughts of what had potentially happened to them. Kyto knew that Raiders would often sell slaves at some of the larger townships, never mind the stories of brutality that occurred.
Kyto had only moved from the safety of the barn after a long while, wanting to ensure the Raiders had left as he clearly remembered crying for hours while he held onto the old woman he had known as ‘Nanna’. Even at his then-young age, he had spent several days attempting to bury them as best he could during daylight and hiding in the barn every night. Listening to the sounds of the Wild Ones before eventually collecting what he could and abandoning the area. He had aimlessly wandered, not knowing what to do or where to go. He sometimes wished he had succumbed to the same fate as the others.
At 11, fending for himself, life had become much worse. It took him several weeks before he gained the fortitude necessary to endure the hardship during this period. Kyto had nearly starved to death before he had come upon a small township where he had stolen some food. He eventually resolved to seek retribution against those who had attacked them.
Over the first few years, he survived mainly by theft. Once he had located a new township, he would spend time carefully scouting before procuring food from those who had left their homes unattended. Kyto had remained on his own. The first day, his display triggered his coming of age; it scared him half to death as he did not know what to expect. He had initially thought he had gone mad before remembering conversations he had overheard as a child about what it meant. The light green outline of a body on his retina and the many available options were overwhelming. He could select various areas by thought alone, and several tabs then opened, informing him of different development options. Each skill tree had a huge list of subcategories and specialisms. At first, all the options appeared greyed out. The four major categories listed were humanities, natural, formal, and applied sciences. It had taken him weeks to work through the lists, and with nothing better to do than focus on his growth, he had started down his chosen path.
He hadn’t realised how much basic knowledge he had learned from watching community members until he started doing things himself. Initially, things were tough, and he had almost killed himself on more than one occasion by picking the wrong type of food to eat. The stomach cramps he had ended up with and sickness had been nothing to sniff at, and he had learned the hard way what he could and could not eat safely.
It was the first day he had seen his ocular display change colour and turn yellow instead of green. It was then that he realised that the display confirmed his current health status, and as he had become better, it had returned to its original light green. With his initial focus as a freethinker, he had spent days, if not weeks, searching for books, packaging, and anything else he could read to develop his knowledge of applied sciences. Many were worthless fantasy novels, with romance and biographies to spare.
At the beginning of the chaotic realignment of life, small campfires needed to be started, and many people, with little thought, utilised whatever paper products were nearby. Many people caused a significant loss of knowledge by burning books with educational value without consideration towards society's and life's future.
He had also triggered his natural sciences tree, where the subcategory biology sat and then the specialisation of toxicology. This had been accidental, as it became active after his most critical bout of sickness when he had poisoned himself to create a new food dish. His display had flashed red, and it had taken him days to recover. He did not realise that by mixing some of the various berries that now grew, they were toxic when combined. Through trial and error, he then enhanced this specialisation. He opened the subcategory medicine, and alternative and traditional medicine were triggered, as he found certain plants would help remove sickness.
He spent his time nomadically, moving from one area to another and, instead of stealing, beginning to scavenge. He eventually gained the confidence to trade with various settlements when he came upon them. With no interaction with townships, he had only used them previously as sources to pillage. This had made him self-sufficient but insular. He had always feared getting close or settling down because of his constant fear of raiders. Over the years, he had several close run-ins with raiders but had always avoided capture or conflict.
He thought he was average in most ways, although very fit compared to many he had met on his travels. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body, not just because the food was scarce when out on his own and after spending years living it rough but more because of the hours he had spent climbing and searching through the old, dilapidated remains of buildings; it kept him in shape. He wore cargo trousers, which he loved because of all their pockets, owning three pairs and a selection of t-shirts, his favourite being one with a picture on the front of an eye. His most prized possession was a webbing vest containing his multi-tool, which he had stolen several months back from a raider’s vehicle.
The raider had been unconscious, high on Radstims or drunk on nectar; he wasn’t sure which, but he had sneaked right up to the vehicle and swiped the vest from the bonnet. The raider hadn’t made a sound, and Kyto's years spent stealing food and possessions he could not afford had served him well. It all came down to survival and his long-term goal of seeking retribution against those who had harmed his group. As no laws or regulations existed, many townships developed their own rules. Some were similar, particularly concerning theft, and if caught, an individual could find their hands at the end of a machete.
He had witnessed this in one township after a woman stole medical supplies, and they had made a show of dragging her into the town square before chopping one of her hands off. Seeing the woman’s stump sealed with a hot iron had made Kyto physically sick, and it had been a deciding factor for him to move towards trade rather than continuing with the light-fingered approach he had used in the past. He knew he could always fall back on if he needed to, but as he was now an adult and had gained confidence, this had become less appealing, and he enjoyed having two hands.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Vehicles were plentiful throughout the land, scattered everywhere as remnants of the past. The issue had been the ability to fuel them. As the old fuel supplies dwindled, so did most vehicle use. Only raiders, the rich, or some larger settlements had any vehicles. They had discovered that some of the new plants that had emerged could be distilled, and through the process, they created a powerful but highly flammable fuel.
The process of making the fuel was dangerous by nature, and the expertise needed in bioengineering, which allowed for its creation, was rare. Kyto understood that the skill was highly specialised and a very high-ranking skill to attain. Throughout Kyto’s travels, he had only been aware of three or four people with that level of expertise. He hoped he could learn the skill but knew that his biology skill tree was lacking in comparison. Even if he could create the fuel, he was not sure he could adapt a vehicle to use it. Never mind, operate one.
The one thing that Kyto had on his side, beyond anything else, was his ability to tinker with things. He had got a dab hand at stripping items down and making himself amazing contraptions. His engineering specialisation flourished because of this, and not long after coming of age, he triggered both his electrical and mechanical engineering skill trees. He loved tinkering with old items, and every time he came across something new, he would dismantle it and see how things worked.
He remembered Nanna had told him that his mother had been an amazing engineer and his father a brilliant biologist, and their combined skills had been a substantial source of support for their group. His engineering specialisation, particularly mechanical engineering, had frequently helped him when visiting townships. Even if he had nothing to trade, he could usually scrape some food and drink due to providing repairs to their machinery.
The raiders, poisoned plants, radioactive signatures remaining throughout the world, and the complete and utter collapse of all things within society weren’t the only things that threatened his existence. The Wild Ones were the remnants of the animal kingdom.
As the human population had died, so had most of the animal population. While some humans were immune to the radiation sickness, the surviving animals weren’t. The few humans who hunted instantly killed off the easier species which roamed in the open. However, on the far edges of suburbia, in the mountains and deep within the forests, there were problems to deal with. There were few people to hunt the predators, and within their natural habitat, the predators killed off the weaker species with ease and quickness. The perfect storm of events produced what led to the creation of a multitude of mutated cross-species. The worst of these new species he knew of was the Wild One, a Spylore, which ranged between six and eight feet and resembled a close bloodline related to a Panthera.
Spylore had claws like any predator, but what set them apart were their huge, razor-sharp, retractable fangs that protruded from both the top and the bottom of their jaw. Their fur varied in colour from reds to blacks with a mottled pattern, and they were stocky and powerful. Their jaws could open to 200 degrees, and when they bit down the pressure they created with their fangs being as strong as steel, they would go right through most objects, including armour.
He had seen some raiders once succumb to a Spylore attack, and even though it was horrific, he was fascinated to witness it. Kyto was scavenging in an abandoned township when a raider's vehicle arrived and drove through its centre. He assumed the raiders had been scouting and stopped to search the township. The vehicle's approach gave away their arrival as he could hear the engine's noise echo throughout the city as it drew closer. Kyto had hidden himself inside one of the multi-storey buildings, watching the raider's activities. As dusk had fallen on the township, the raiders had lit a fire to warn off the night and started drinking what he guessed was nectar, a common drink of the new era.
From his perch, he watched the two raiders clearly and, while watching them, noticed a movement out of the corner of his vision. When he had focussed on the area, he had seen the Spylore stalking its’ prey with expert stealth. It was making its way towards the raiders using the shadows of the surrounding buildings and the overgrown flora and fauna as concealment. Before launching its attack, it had got within approximately 30 feet. It had pounced on the back of one raider, immediately sinking its fangs straight through the raider's helmet-covered head. Kyto could still clearly remember the crunching sound it made as the raider's head exploded. It was like squeezing a ripe berry, creating a red mist and mass of gore. The second raider had tried to grab his weapon that was resting by the vehicle but had been too slow, and the Spylore had charged and swiped the raider across its chest with its huge razor-sharp claws, opening large red gashes visible from the distance that Kyto maintained.
In under twenty seconds, it had slaughtered both its targets. He then sat transfixed, watching it tear up and devour their remains. Captivated by the events, it wasn’t until after the Spylore had finished devouring its meal that Kyto decided it was probably best to depart the area quickly and quietly, not wanting to be the Spylore's next chosen target.
Kyto sat up on his mattress while he looked out of the window. The sky looked bleak and grey; he knew it might rain soon. He could see off in the distance towards a mountain range, the ominous clouds building up at its peak. Once they hit the valley, they would open and send the rain pouring down and crashing upon the earth. It happened every time he saw the clouds in that formation. He didn’t mind the rain, but since he had lost his jacket a few weeks back, having to run from a previous safe house when others had shown up, he didn’t fancy getting soaked but had to make a trip into the local industrial area as he was running low on supplies.
He had come across the farm a week ago now, and due to it being close to a small township and only a few miles from an old industrial area, he decided he would stay for a while. It was a two-storey building, which had seen better days. Its doors still worked; remarkably, only two windows had missing glass. He had discovered two skeletons in the room upstairs. They were probably the owners in a past life and had either committed suicide or died because of the Falling. He had removed their remains and buried the bones outside. He was used to finding the remains of so many, and virtually every site that he had visited had always had the remains of those unfortunate to have died during the Falling or come foul since.
He had located some old timber outside, covering the downstairs windows and barricading the doorways. If he was staying anywhere, he did not want to be woken up by a Wild One or with a knife at his throat or a gun pointed at his head by some stranger wanting to rob him or kill him. Trust was an issue and was difficult to earn. Only those with skills or able to prove their worth were welcome in many townships. Because of his specialist knowledge, Kyto was accommodated, even though people always frowned upon him because he was a Scavvie. It always took him time to persuade new townships that he could offer support or services if he could not trade. It did not mean they trusted him; he would never stay in a township overnight, always travelling back to a safe location.
He entered and left the farmhouse through a first-floor window he could easily climb up to by the wooden exterior. Using an ancient and filthy mattress, he had set up a sleeping area inside a bedroom for his bed and created a small cooking area. He did not like setting fires very often as the smoke often gave away your location, but with the colour of the sky outside, he decided it may be worth a chance. He moved from under the blanket, stretched off, and lit a fire. The farmhouse had old-style fireplaces, and he had positioned his cooking area so the smoke would go out of the chimney.
On the first day, he lit a fire. He discovered the chimney was blocked and had filled the room with smoke before discovering a family of flying Wild Ones nesting in it. He had to clear the nest by climbing onto the roof. His acrobatic skill made him agile and physically fit to complete the task. He did not know the names of the flying Wild Ones, but they were birds the likes of which he had seen in some old picture books. Kyto had not yet encountered a flying Wild One that presented a danger to him, and he was not worried; he was just startled by the surprise he had discovered. His experience had taught him that though he had not witnessed a flying Wild One that presented a threat to him, it did not mean they did not exist.
He searched through his backpack for what food he had remaining. The last time he had been in a township, he sourced some meat strips that he had traded for a few small lengths of copper wire and cogs. Copper wire was still plentiful in many areas but had mostly degraded over the years, meaning it was unfit. Only rarely did he find materials of a sufficient standard. Although he had traded enough for a few meals, anything was better than starving. He needed to find some decent materials soon as he needed items for his latest invention. He knew many township stores would provide him with an easy, if not potentially pricey, option to get some of them.
He removed a pot from his backpack and cut one of the meat strips into small pieces. He then dropped them into it to fry the meat over the fire while preparing some berries from his pack. Once the meat was browned, he added the chopped berries and a little water to the pot before stirring it. He did not know what type of berries they were, but they had a spicy taste and always seemed to improve the flavour of everything. He may have been addicted to the berry flavour, irrespective of what he cooked with them.
He let the food cook for a few more minutes before removing it from the fire and putting the fire out before he ate. He did not want to create smoke for the sake of it, although the extra warmth had been pleasant while cooking. Once he finished eating, he rinsed out the pot, wiped it down on an old rag he had found in the farmhouse and put everything back away again in his backpack.
One thing he never did was unpack fully after being caught out once several years ago, and he would never make that mistake again. It had taken him weeks to recover enough supplies and items for his scavenger trips. His bag was always packed with everything he needed, including his spare clothes and two blankets. Kyto sat there, contemplating whether to chance the rain and head to the industrial area. He pushed the thought aside, checked over his characteristics, and reminded himself of where he stood in his progression.
image [https://i.imgur.com/D3tqqTz.jpg]
image [https://i.imgur.com/vUgcR7A.jpg]