• Published 8th Sep 2013
  • 20,963 Views, 1,607 Comments

Lazarus: The Rise of Man - Immortan Joe



When the Cataclysm struck, Earth was plunged into an eternal darkness and Mankind was assumed to be extinct, left in the forgotten books of history. But what if they never truly died out? What if they're asleep? And what if they woke up?

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Chapter 4: Johnny Conway

Lieutenant Shaun Bell leaned forward and scratched the bottom of his chin before speaking. “I was by my bed about an hour before we launched, okay. I’m cleaning my lovely M4 like a boy cleaning his first car; I’m singing to her and rubbing my bare hands against her barrel.” Shaun smiled as he spoke. Stacey, on the other hand, was shaking her head in disappointment as Lieutenant Michael chuckled.

“Oh I know what you–” Michael began, but Shaun quickly silenced him by a shush.

“Quiet Junior, daddy’s speaking,” he teased. “Anyways, I’m cleaning her and a knock comes from my bedroom door. Not wanting to be rude I opened it, only to find an engineer pushing this large ass cart into my room. He didn’t even bother saying ‘excuse me, Lieutenant’ or ‘precious cargo coming through.’ No, the fucker snapped at me and told me to watch where I was standing!” Shaun’s tone quickly turned sour as he continued his rant. “I was like; ‘Wow. How rude of you, mister!’ And the engineer just looked at me and shook his head; clearly I could already tell the boy was already in a sour mood, but that wasn’t even what angered me.”

“What was it then?” Asked Doug.

“This is what pissed me off!” Shaun grabbed hold of one of the Russian AK-12s that was strapped to the gun rack and held it up, shaking it.

“What’s wrong with it?” Stacey glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with it? It’s not my gun! That’s what’s wrong with it! I want my M4 back,” Shaun complained. “I see nothing wrong with going down there with my rifle.”

“Right!” William who had just happened to hear the last of Shaun’s sentence agreed, he stretched his arms out and popped his neck.

Shaun’s hands shot out towards William. “Thank you, Commander! At least one person here understands!”

“Speaking of the AKs,” William began, “I think that same engineer came into my room earlier, too.” William said as he repositioned himself and popped his neck. Looking to his left, he saw Dr. Hassel. With his head slung over the back of his seat, the doctor was clearly out cold. The old man’s book lay open on his lap.

“Young, snarky asshole with blonde hair?”

“Yep,” Will clarified, nodding his head.

“Did you guys know that he just works here?” Michael decided to chip in.

“Shut up Michael.” Will continued, “I don’t know what’s up with that boy, but somebody needs to smack some respect into him. Out of all of my years in the service, I have never been treated with such disrespect. Well, discounting boot, am I right?” At that, all of the soldiers present shared a good natured laugh. Then, the drop ship shook and everyone’s gaze shot upwards. Hassel snorted himself awake and he gazed around the room, a confused look on his face as if he didn’t know where he was.

“Vee… Vee must have already entered zee atmosphere,” Hassel mumbled, his accent sounding thicker than usual as he was slowly shaken awake.

The dozen men and women in the ship sat there in silence for a few moments before Shaun resumed his tangent. “Anyways, I told the asshole that I don’t need to swap weapons because my M4 was in perfect working condition. The fucker then looks at me, right, like straight into my eyes, not moving a single inch. I swear if that was supposed to be some kind of staring contest, I would have definitely lost.” Shaun rested his hands on his lap while leaning back in his seat. He took a deep breath and continued, “What he said next made me come this close to smacking the bitch.” Shaun held up his fingers to show how close he had come to knocking some sense into the engineer. “’I’m just doing my job, sir,’” Shaun mocked in a childish voice, “Oh Jesus! I wanted to smack the shit out of him! I grabbed my gear, and next thing I know he’s taking the cart and walking out the door. But then he stopped and chuckled, I looked at him and said, ‘Boy, what do you think is so funny?’ When I looked at him I saw he was eyeing my M4 and the AK. The fucker pointed at both of them and said, ‘Consider it an upgrade, sir’”

Shaun grunted angrily and pounded his fist on his knee pad. “Oh if we weren’t the last of humanity I would’ve fucking ripped his throat out!”

“I know what you mean,” Michael scratched the back of his neck.

“Why are the engineers manufacturing these goddamn weapons?” Shaun asked no one in particular. “Aren’t the Russians all dead? Why the hell are we still making their shit?”

“Isn’t DeSilva Russian?” Stacey leaned over and whispered into Michael’s ear.

“He’s Ukrainian,” Michael replied, continuing to watch Shaun wave his hands about himself while ranting away like a mad man. On the other side of the ship, both Commander William and Dr. Hassel, were watching the crazed soldier, chuckling at his stupidity. “But I think he did mention something about his father serving in the Russian military.”

“Must have been rough for him,” Stacey replied, gazing towards the cockpit door with a concerned expression on her face.

“Nah, I doubt that. DeSilva is a tough nut to crack,” Michael followed Stacey’s eyes towards the door in front of them. “Strange, I will admit. But he knows how to take loss.” A few moments passed and Michael’s eyes drifted back towards Shaun, who had finally simmered down, and who was now having an amusing chat with the Commander.

“I took the nearest rock and chucked it over the fence, okay,” Shaun explained while imitating the motions. “When the rock smacked against the side of the cooling tower, all the Sleepers in a half mile radius turned their heads right towards it at the same time” He was chuckling as the image played through his head. “And I’m talking perfect unison here, man, all in sync; it’s like they'd been practicing or something. What makes it even funnier is that they all went to go check on it, so imagine this: an entire army of brainless zombies walking towards one small location. Again I’m talking hundreds here, sir, literally all we had to do is fire Jackson’s RPG in the center and they were all blown to chunky bits.”

William snorted and shook his head. “It amazes me that they’re that fucking stupid.”

“What amazes me, sir, is that we fucking lost to them!” Shaun exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide.

“Says the one who nearly got killed by one,” Michael snorted.

“Can it, Junior!” Shaun whirled around and glared at the Junior Lieutenant, who was smiling deviously at his superior. “It caught me off guard, that was all!”

“Not to mention,” Stacey piped up, “They managed to take control of the entire 7th fleet, obliterate our forces in the Pacific, and shelled the shit out of San Francisco. Yeah, they sound pretty fucking stupid to me.”

“Why are you defending them?!” Shaun asked, completely dumbfounded.

“I’m not defending them, I just like pulling your leg.” Stacey rolled her eyes and turned away. “Overreacting much? Damn, you’re like my nephew,” she muttered on her way around.

“Besides, the Pacific crisis wasn’t that bad,” Shaun said. “We did manage to wipe out a large portion of their ships.” Shaun smiled and cracked his knuckles; he looked to his commanding officer with hopeful eyes. “Didn’t we, Commander?”

William laughed and proceeded to shoot the poor lad down. “We sure did, after I dragged your blubbering ass out of the Kitty Hawk.”

Shaun’s face fell at the sound of his laughing squad mates. Dr. Hassel rolled his eyes, “All right, Villiam, I sink you teased zee boy enough.” The old man shifted in his seat trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Alright, alright,” William chuckled, “but you have to admit the boy does set himself up–”

“Enough vis zees childish acts, Commander. It’s only a matter of time bevore vee land. Now is not zee time to put each ozer down.” Dr. Hassel advised, while looking at William like a disappointed father.

“Well, the boy has to toughen up at some point,” William smirked, clearing his throat he sat back in his seat. “Alright everyone, ready up! DeSilva will be giving the green light any moment now!”

:[-]:

Johnny Conway sat back in his couch, remote in hand and a freshly opened Coke in the other. He loaded up yet another episode of Gordon Ramsey’s Kitchen Nightmares and kicked back for another Friday afternoon. John slowly sipped his Coke, chuckling at the sight of the red faced chef as he screamed at another stubborn restaurant owner. Again. “God, some people… It’s almost like a cartoon,” he chuckled. The clock just below the T.V. caught his eye.

3:00 P.M.

John cursed himself as he used the chair’s armrests to propel himself up, “Dammit, almost forgot!” Stumbling around for his shoes, John hastily yanked them onto his feet while reaching for his light jacket at the same time. Shoving the front door open, John ran down the front steps and out towards the curb right as a yellow school bus came to a slow, screeching stop.

Followed by other parents, Johnny watched as the school bus’s doors swung open and unleashed a tsunami of children. Raising a hand to shield eyes from the sun, John scanned the crowd of grade schoolers. A few moments passed and the crowd kids soon dispersed, taken home by their parents. This left Johnny standing there, his daughter nowhere in sight. “Amy?” Johnny called aloud as he swiveled his head back and forth, beginning to worry. “Oh sweet Jesus, Amy?!” He ran towards the bus, stopping the doors from closing by holding them apart with his hands; he looked up at the driver.

“Jesus Christ, mister! What can I do for you?” The fat old man glared sternly down at the worried father.

“Excuse me Mr. . . .” Johnny examined the driver for any signs of identification.

“Mr. Stanley. Or, at least, that’s what the kids call me,” Stanley said. “What can I do for you, sir? Did you lose your child or something?” he asked, irritated.

Way to be blunt, prick.

“Actually, I have,” Johnny swallowed and raised his hand a few feet off the ground. “Have you seen a girl about this tall, brown hair, blue eyes like mine?” Johnny quickly asked, his hands shaking as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

Stanley sighed, a frown forming on his face. Furrowing his brow in thought, he replied; “Mister, do you know how many girls I’ve had on this bus that have brown hair and blue eyes? Do you happen to recall what she was wearing?”

“Uh…” Shit, why did I have to be in bed this morning? Maybe Stacey will know. “Do you mind if I dial up my wife?”

The bus driver rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry, mister. Just give me her name and I’ll make sure to tell dispatch.”

“What if she fell asleep? Can you just call her name, w-with the intercom thing you guys use?” John pointed towards the handheld mounted beside the driver.

“What’s her name?” he asked, clearly frustrated. They had been talking for nearly two minutes, after all.

“A–” Johnny began, but was cut off by his jazz ringtone coming from his phone. Instinctively he checked who it was; Amy’s school was calling him. “Hello?”

“Mr. Conway,” a female’s voice sounded from the device, “we regret to inform you that your daughter, Amy Conway, got into a fight today at lunch. We are sorry we weren’t able to notify you earlier of this ins–” Hanging up the phone, John apologized to the driver and sprinted towards his car.

:[-]:

Johnny drove like a madman towards the school, furious yet relieved at the same time. He pulled into the school parking lot several minutes later, his frantic driving getting him there in half the time it usually took. Opening the door to the principal’s office, Johnny was greeted by a large meaty finger pointing directly between his eyes.

“You, sir need to keep your daughter under fu–!”

“Mr. Steinberg!” A woman in a tight red suit stood up, her glasses falling onto the bridge of her nose. Her eyebrows were carving deep crevices in her forehead and her hand snapped towards the nearest chair. “You will sit down immediately! I’ll not have any more violence in this school after today!”

Mr. Steinberg, a large bald man that seemed to be made entirely out of muscle, stepped back from Johnny, who wasn’t intimidated in the slightest, and sat himself in the nearest chair. Taking his eyes off 'roid rage', Johnny noticed his daughter sitting solemnly in a chair right beside the boy she apparently had a fight with. Both were seated in the center of the room right in front of the principal’s desk.

The woman sat back down behind her desk and rested her elbows on the table her fingers lacing together. “Mr. Conway, as you know, before you rudely hung up on me–”

“Sorry, it was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” He accidentally interrupted her again.

The principal rolled her eyes, “As I was saying, Amy, here was involved in a physical fight with Bradley.” John’s eyes drifted towards the boy who looked to be holding back his sobs, his right eye was badly bruised and he could see a trail of dried blood leading out of his right nostril. Johnny couldn’t resist a small smirk.

That’s my girl.

“–despite what happened, Mr. Conway, are you listening to me?”

Johnny snapped back to reality and his eyes met with the principal’s. “Yeah, punishment will be distributed equally.”

The principal gave him a disappointed look, “Actually that’s what I was about to get to.”

“Y-yeah,” He smiled sheepishly, out of the corner of his eye he could see Mr. Muscles cracking his knuckles. “So what are we talking here, detention, and community service–?”

“Expulsion, Mr. Conway” She deadpanned.

Both Johnny and Hercules’s eyes widened in fear, “What?!” they gasped simultaneously.

“Gentlemen, we at Margate Academy expect more out of our students, and we are very strict when it comes to our punishments. Had this just been a simple verbal argument; these students would have only spent a few days in suspension or even detention. But when fists start flying and this–” she gestured with a hand towards the brutally beaten boy. “– much damage happens to one of our students; no matter who started it, the people involved will be expelled. I’m sorry gentlemen, but that’s just how things work here, starting next week I’ll have you and your daughter, Mr. Conway, come and collect her things.”

“What about us?” Muscle boy asked, he seemed to still be suffering from shock. “My boys have been coming here for years…”

The principal glanced at Johnny. “You can go now.” She mouthed.

Johnny nodded begrudgingly and tapped his hand on Amy’s right shoulder. “Come on, kiddo.”

:[-]:

The car ride had been quiet and slow for the first half of the trip home. Turning the next corner Johnny finally got the nerve to ask, “What happened in Lunch?”

“A fight,” Amy grumbled, she placed the ice pack that the nurse handed them on the way out over the new sore spot on her head.

“Why? What happened, did he hit you? Call you a name? Did he–”

“He slapped my ass–”

Slamming on the brakes, the car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. Johnny quickly put the car into park and turned off the key, letting silence envelop them. Through the mirror he could see Amy cringing in the back.

Oh that mother fucker!, Johnny’s thoughts raged.

“He… he what?” Johnny asked, his voice barely a whisper. He needed to clarify.

“I-I s-said he slapped my ass…” Amy stammered, John couldn’t see it but he could tell she was scared. “I-It wasn’t th-the first time this had happened, a-at first I thought it was weird but funny. But then he wouldn’t stop, every day whenever I passed him in the hall he’d hit me, over time it, it got h-har–”

“Enough!” Johnny nearly shouted, he wasn’t trying to sound angry, at least not at her. But the fact that this had been going on for several days now and she hadn’t told him was infuriating, but he wouldn’t punish her, she’d already suffered enough. He turned around in his seat to face her, “When your mother gets home I want you to tell her what happened.”

“What about you? What are you going to do?” She asked, small tears forming around the corners of her eyes.

“I need to call your Uncle Arin, he knows a guy that can hook us up with a lawyer.” He put the car into drive and began driving down the road much faster than before.

“Daddy, please don’t–”

“Enough, Amy. What you’ve gone through isn’t right and no woman should ever, ever! Have to go through what happened to you.” He looked into the rearview mirror and his eyes met with his daughter. “I promise you that I will never ever let anyone touch you like that again.”

:[-]:

Johnny woke with a start, his forehead beading with sweat. Confused and not knowing where he was, John’s eyes wandered around the central control room. Sighing with relief that it was all just a horrible nightmare, he rested his head back on the desk.

“Well I’ll be damned, what do we have here?” A familiar voice cackled from behind, Johnny raised his head up off the circular desk that rounded the hologlobe’s projector. Tiredly turning his head around to see who’d disturbed him. Johnny smiled when he saw a tall man in a NATO soldier outfit tossing him a small salute. He then noticed a tray of food in his other hand. “Sleeping on the job, sir?” The soldier came up beside him and pulled up a chair while Johnny watched him place the tray in front of him and lean forward to rest his elbows on the desk. He gazed up at the T.V. monitors that acted as windows. Johnny could see that the screens revealed the darkened side of Earth. Just past a few storm clouds on the planet’s surface Johnny could see…

What continent is that? Asia, I think… He couldn’t really tell through the clouds, let alone his clouded thoughts from just waking up. “I…” He yawned, “I wouldn’t say sleeping, Sergeant Conway, just resting my eyes that’s all.” Johnny ran a hand across the back of his stiff neck.

The Sergeant snorted, “What did I tell you about calling me by my title when we're alone, Officer Conway?” He smiled and patted him on the back, “Come on, John,” Sergeant Conway slid the tray over to him. “You’re missing dinner; I can’t have you starving up here.”

Johnny glanced down solemnly at the plastic tray. Like most of the time, the main course was hash, with a single serving of instant mash potatoes, green beans, and a glass of water. Johnny sighed, “I’m not really hungry right now Arin…” That was a lie, Johnny felt as if he was going to keel over if he didn’t eat something soon. Yet, he felt as if he couldn’t bring himself to eat, like the lump that was in his throat would stop anything from going down.

Arin Conway looked at his brother with concern, “Is something wrong, John?” he asked already expecting the answer to be a more definite no.

“I-I’m fine, just… had a rough dream that was all.” Johnny said reluctantly picking up the spoon and jamming it into the pile of hash.

“You can’t stop thinking about her can you?” Arin asked, his voice hushed. When Johnny didn’t reply, Arin turned his chair so that he was facing John. Leaning forward he spoke, “John, I know this is hard for you, but you need to move on.” Johnny cringed, “I know it sounds harsh, but it’s the truth. Amy wouldn’t want you to suffer for the rest of your life because you didn’t have the time...” Arin’s voice slid into silence when he saw Johnny’s tear brimmed eyes look up at him.

“I left her alone, Arin!” Johnny’s voice was barely a whisper, “I told her I was going to be right back after I got Stacey…” John shook his head, closing his eyes he rested his head in the palm of his hands, “It’s my fault that I came back too late,” he choked. “And now she’s down there; locked away in that goddamn research facility!” He sniffled.

“Now, now, brother, don’t go tellin’ yourself that.” Arin grasped John’s right shoulder firmly. “You listen to me now, it’s nobody’s fault, even if there was someone to go pointing fingers at, it wouldn’t do any good now. We’re the last of humanity, if you want to do well for her, make sure you survive first...”

“I… I just wish I hadn’t left her, that’s all,” Johnny rubbed his eyes and stared forward at nothing.

“We all wish we hadn’t done a lot of things, Johnny. Now come on and buck up; You’re a soldier now.” Arin gave him one more squeeze before standing up. “We all need you to be thinking clearly so we get this mission right.”

“Fire team, Charlie, report to hangar bay one, I repeat: Fire team, Charlie, report to hangar bay one. Drop ship Oscar will be lifting off in zero one thirty.”

Johnny looked up at the intercom with a perplexed look. “Wh-what’s that all about?”

“That’s right; you’re sleeping on the job. So you didn’t hear.” Arin teased. “Speaking of which I could report–”

“Seriously,” Johnny’s voice grew more serious. “What’s going on?”

A large smile pierced Arin’s lips looking down at his little brother he said, “We're going home.”

Editors’ Notes:

Isaac3924 -

Uuuuum. I'm not sure if we're still doing this or not, but whatever. Watch Dogs. Not as good as I hoped. Like Bioshock Infinite (Gonna get so much hate for that). Good news is dlc for Dark Souls II has been announced, E3 is this week, and I got a job at Ross (so I can spend all of my accumulated salary at Nan Desu Kan). Still more tornadoes in Colorado, so yeah, still got that going.

Aside from that, man, I just want pony-human interaction now, I just can't wait for that to happen! Aside from that, most of this chapter was build up and back-story, which is good, in setting up a story in general, but can be a bit tiresome. Still, I enjoyed it. Let's see where this goes.

Author's Note:

And pony/human interaction is just what you guys are going to be getting, Isaac. The time is upon us people who had read this before the rewrite; will I, Dark Nebula, fuck this up like I did before. Or, will I achieve fruitlyness and write something that will keep this train on its tracks... well seeing that I have about five editors/pre readers.

Who names are,

Isaac3924, Wulf95, Teslaponie(new guy but proved his usefulness), Nuclear Grenade, and Terminal343 SK116.

To slap the shit out of me in case I were to fuck up, also they're here to supply friendly advice. That could possibly change the whole course of this story if I like, and of course. They're you guys, who constantly supply friendly and sometimes not so friendly criticism!

I hope you guys liked this chapter and please, share your thoughts, feelings, and your deepest most personal secre–

*transmission lost*