A man sat with his back against the wall. He was quite young, couldn’t be older than nineteen. He seemed to be no more than six feet tall with dark brown, shaggy hair and light blue eyes. He was wearing dark blue military fatigues, the jacket on the ground beside him. Strapped across his chest was a pair of bandoliers in an X-fashion. The front was filled with different magazine clips, from 9mm to 12 gauge shell clips. He had on two under-arm holsters that each contained a Desert Eagle. On his back were three sheathes, well, more like two sheathes and a large holster. The large holster was diagonal on his back and tilted over his left shoulder so he could reach over and draw the 12 gauge AA-Warhammer Automatic Shotgun with one hand. The other two sheathes were sideways slanted down slightly on his lower back. They each contained a short sword, roughly the size of a Wakizashi, with which he was steadily gaining more experience using in combat.
He was writing in a journal that seemed well used and was more than half way through it when he started his current entry.
Day 47,
Our group has set up another safehouse for the survivors. I think we have finally succeeded in evacuating all the survivors in a fifteen mile radius and brought them all here. We have also been leaving notes around to point any new survivors that find their way here in the right direction.
Now that we have all of the survivors in the immediate area, we will start training the able-bodied ones. We’ll have to start with speed and endurance, so they can outrun them with more ease, but include some parkour should they still get cornered. After that, I guess we will begin the small arms and swords training. We won’t bother with unarmed combat as it is all but useless against the dead.
I’ll have to ask Rusty to make more of those laser sights for the new people; I swear that girl is like MacGyver’s descendant or something! Thankfully, we won’t have to go on another full-day gun run, it seems most of the new survivors had guns of their own and a couple of them even had their own swords! Wait, we have new survivors so… Ah, crap! We’ll have to go through the whole “New Names” thing all over again. That’s never fun.
Entry Over, Raven Smite
The now-named Raven sighed as he put his journal away, and then froze for a moment when he heard the sounds of footsteps slowly approaching from behind him. In a flash, he was up on his feet with both of his blades drawn and swinging horizontal to where the neck and waist usually are.
A loud clang sounded out as Raven’s Wakizashis made contact with the newcomer’s own blade. The blade itself was nearly equal in length to its wielder’s height. Raven’s eyes widened slightly at seeing that it wasn’t one of the Walkers, and then smirked when he saw who it actually was. “I thought I told you to stop trying to sneak up on me… Silver-nii.”
Silverwing the Adamant, or Silverwing Strong to anyone who didn’t really know him, was about 6’ in height with a build that was a bit above medium. He was wearing dark grey pants which were held on by a white belt and ankle wraps. His chest was bare, showing off his muscles, but it was adorned with some tattoos including a large flaming skull wearing sunglasses on his back. He was wearing the same dark sunglasses as the skull on his back, on his face. He had a sheath on his belt and was even wearing a cape that mirrored the tattoo on his back. Silver huffed and sheathed his sword with a pout. “I told you to call me Kamina! Why won’t you do that, Little Bro?”
Raven chuckled, “Nii-san, if I called you Kamina, that would make me Simon. Now besides the fact that I’m sure that breaks at least three international copyright laws, there is also the fact that it leaves Shadow to be Yoko…”
They both paused for a moment and then shuddered simultaneously. Silver laughed, “I did NOT need that mental image, Bro!”
There was a dull thwump next to them and they turned, blades drawn. “I didn’t need the picture either, thank you very much.” A new voice sounded out.
The owner of the voice stepped forward, revealing a smirking man. He was about 6’2” with shaggy black hair and light brown eyes. He was wearing combat style, military steel-toed boots and faded jeans. Attached to his shins there were two sheathes for swords. The swords in question were a pair of Iberian Falcata, which he claimed were a family heirloom, and had a small amount of training with them. On his belt at either side was an UMP .45 pistol with some magazine cartridges in quick-release slots on the rest of the belt, except for the space which held a walkie-talkie. He had on a red shirt and over it all a black trench coat. On his back, under the trench coat, was a custom-fitted holster for an RPK with extended ammunition magazines and a deployable bipod.
“Well talk about your rude welcoming.” The man pouted.
With a sigh, Raven and Silver both sheathed their weapons and Raven spoke up. “Why must you always do that, Shadow?! I know you are essentially a ninja but do you always have to act the part?”
Shadow laughed, “Maybe not, but what would be the fun of that, Bro?”
Raven walked up to him and smacked him on the back of the head. “Shut up. Let’s go meet the new survivors…”
************************
A crowd of about four hundred people were standing in an area that they had designated for meetings, at the front was a stage set up with a microphone on it. Off to the side, Silver, Shadow, and Raven were standing and sizing up the crowd. Shadow gave a low whistle, “Damn, that’s a crowd… Well, good luck Raven!”
He turned to his brothers, “Why do I have to do it again?”
Because you are the leader, you know the speech by heart, you were the most prepared among all of us for this, and you’re the only one out of all of us that ever took an Oral Communications class in high school.” Silver replied, counting off his fingers as he went.
“Yeah, but I’m also the only one with a crippling fear of speaking to large crowds!” Raven objected.
“Then what better way to get over your fear than to face it?”
Raven paused for a moment, his mouth open, ready to form a counter-argument. Then he slowly shut it, “… Ugh, damn you and your logic. Fine, let’s go.”
The crowd fell silent in a wave as the three walked on to the stage. Raven approached the microphone.
“Hello everyone,” he started, “My name is now Raven Smite and these are my honorary brothers, Silverwing the Adamant and Shadow Breeze. We are basically the leaders of this group, though we don’t really have a name. The reason we were chosen as the leaders is because we always knew something like this would happen; so we planned; we trained; we prepared, and when it happened, we were ready. Now, as you came here, you probably saw the wall? Well, we set that up, it surrounds us and it is probably about two and a half miles in diameter. We use that to keep the undead out, so we can sleep safely at night.
“Now, we have certain Classes set up here to keep this place running smoothly. We have Snipers set up along the wall to keep the dead back by about a block or two, and we have some Ground Patrols in case a few somehow make it past them. We have Medics to help heal anything from scrapped knees to broken bones. We also have anyone with a background in Chemistry working on finding out whatever it is that causes the dead to rise. We have those with experience in weaponry training any who wish to help. Every week or so, a group of Scouts head out to find any useable or salvageable items. This brings me to one of our rules here. There are no drugs or alcohol allowed here. If you want to get high, join the Scouts and get high on adrenaline.
“If you are good with physics, I recommend being a Sniper. Nurses, doctors, interns and the like; please head to the Medic tent if you wish to help there. If you can go fast and stay fast, look for some small arms training so you can help out the scouts. Also, one more thing; the old world has ended. This is the beginning of the start – the Beta run if you will – of a new world, a new chance. As such, if you are 16 years or older, you can change your name if you so wish. It can be whatever you want it to be, but we recommend you choose it as something unique and special to you. If you want to change your name, simply register with it as so, and put in your new name. Are there any questions not related to Class jobs?”
One person raised their hand, “What about our children’s educations?”
Raven smiled, “Ah, thank you. I had almost forgotten about that. If you are or ever were a teacher, I would really wish you to help on this. We do have some schools within this area and anyone under 16 will need to attend them. Once you reach 16 years, you have the option to join one of the Classes. You will then spend the following two years as an Apprentice to one of the people in those Classes. After two years, you will then be considered an Independent Master of that specific Class. Once you have spent six months as an Independent Master, you will be required to take on at least one Apprentice for two years and then you will go back to being an Independent Master; which you may stay as, or take another Apprentice when the time comes around.
“How the actual schooling will work is children will be allowed to start at six years old and most of the school courses will focus on the things you’ll need regardless of what Class you want to go into. The basic education will go on until they complete the fifth grade, then the schooling will start to deviate a bit. From sixth grade onward, they can choose their selected courses from the general areas of Nursing/Medicinal; Physics; Physical Conditioning; Chemistry; Agriculture/Carpentry; and other courses that will help with whichever Class they choose once they get out of school.”
Another voice called out, “How do we know that this won’t turn in to some sort of a cult or that you won’t go mad with power or something like that?”
Raven just chuckled and pointed behind him at Shadow and Silver. “My brothers. If I – or either one of them – become a bit mad with the power we have, then they will always have the other two around to give him a well-needed whack on the back of the head until he stops being stupid. This is also how we choose our second-in-commands. We have a list of certain criteria generated by experience we have in the general chain of power and research from some social experiments that we will use to find and train our choices for the next leaders of this community.
“Now, if there are no other questions… If you wish to change your name, please walk over to that table and give them your new name, or – if you do not wish to change it – give them your current name. And may I just give you all a warm welcome here!”
The crowd started applauding and a few even cheered as Raven, Silver, and Shadow walked off the stage. Silver laughed and ruffled Raven’s hair, “Told you that you could do it, Bro! What did we tell you? Always listen to your older Brothers!”
Raven growled and swatted at the hand that dared try to ruin his hair. Silver just laughed again as Raven jumped at him and they started trying to pin each other on the ground. Shadow just sighed and shook his head, then he grinned; the world had ended, and Silver and Raven were still able to just goof off like nothing had changed.
“Alright you two.” He spoke up, “If you’re so eager to fight, then go spar instead.”
The two brothers stopped and looked at the third. A mischievous grin spread across their faces. Shadow saw the grins his brothers wore and groaned, “I’ll go get a stand-by Medic…”
************************
The sparring area was nothing particularly special. When they had started building the area, there had been a high school near it with a basement fitness center. In it, there had been a large, fenced-off circle that had exercise machines and weights for lifting. They had moved the machines to outside the circle and decided to use it as a sparring area. This they had lovingly designated “The Pit.”
Raven made his way to The Pit while Silver went to get combat ready. When he arrived, he saw someone sitting at one of the bench presses, working on it with a wrench. “Hey, Rusty!” Raven called out.
The person turned, hearing his name. Rusty was the Lead Mechanic of his Class. He was also one of Raven’s oldest friends, prior to the apocalypse. Rusty stood up to greet them. He was about Raven’s height at 6’1”, with dark hazel eyes and shock-orange hair. He wore a black shirt with a graphic on it of a glass pyramid-shaped prism that had light going in through one end and a rainbow coming out the other, and a pair of grease-stained pants. On his arms, going halfway to the elbow, were a myriad of arm bands. From “A Cure for Breast Cancer” to “Heavy Metal”, Rusty never wore the same combination of bracelets two days in a row. He was a genius with machines, he was a great friend, and – as Raven had just found out – he had a mean uppercut.
“Owww…” Raven groaned from the floor, “Why am I now looking at the ceiling?”
“Because I’ve told you time and again that my name is Curtis! Stop calling me Rusty just because I’m Lead Mechanic! Or, if you absolutely insist on giving me a new name, at least give me something that isn’t so obviously cliché!”
Silver shook his head as he entered The Pit. He had changed into proper combat attire for the spar. It consisted of a black trench coat with a Barret .50 caliber sniper rifle slung over his shoulder. He had on a silver shirt with black pants, and he had goggles on his forehead so blood wouldn’t get into his eyes when he fought the Hordes. On his left hand was a single red, fingerless glove, with an emblem of a golden shield with a silver feather stitched on to the back of it. He had two leather straps across his chest which held two Makarov .9 millimeter pistols low on his sides and five extra clips for each gun higher on the straps for quick reloading. The trench coat itself was armored and weighed about 150 lbs, so he gained quite the speed boost when he shed it in battle. He wore a pair of black boots that had easily detachable weights on the soles to either provide extra defense, or extra speed. In each boot was a long, serrated-edged dagger that he usually used if he didn’t have the room to fight with his sword, holding them in a reverse-grip.
Silver laughed at his brother’s misfortune. “Are you alright, Bro? That knock to your head make you unable to spar?”
Raven glared at his older brother’s mocking and simply growled out, “Cage, spar, now!”
Silver grinned at Raven as they made their way into the cage, “Ah, that blow to the skull did affect you! See, you aren’t even able to speak in complete sentences!”
Raven just growled again and unsheathed his wakizashis. Silver’s grin widened and even took on a slightly feral look as he took out his own o-katana. Raven looked to Curtis, who nodded, understanding what his friend and leader wanted.
“Ready?” Curtis started, “This spar will be full contact, and swords are the only weapons allowed. The use of hand-to-hand is permitted. Good? HAJIME!”
“Ikuzo!” Raven roared, dashing forward.
“Bring it on, Little Brother!” Silver taunted, getting into a defensive stance.
“STOP!!” a familiar voice yelled out.
END OF CHAPTER ONE