> Walking > by A Space Cephalopod > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Prologue: To Earth > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- How first I enter’d it I scarce can say, Such sleepy dullness in that instant weigh’d my senses down, when the true path I left; But when a Mountain’s foot I reach’d, where closed the valley that had pierced my heart with dread, Lo! I look’d aloft, and saw his shoulders broad already vested with that planet’s beam, who leads all wanderers safe through every way. Excerpt from The Divine Comedy, Canto I. Twilight sighed as she closed the door to her room, the walls of stone a stark contrast to the library she had resided prior. It had been four months since she had ascended to immortality, gained her literal and metaphorical wings and crowned a Princess of Equestria. It had been four months of Court intrigue, politics and research into an obscure subject, those known as the Shade amongst the Zebra Witchdoctors. Her mentor, Princess Celestia, had given her tome upon tome of literature, biographies and research documents on the subject, testing her in Twilight’s humble opinion, by asking her to find a cure for a supposed incurable affliction. She had records stating the symptoms; weakness of body, deathly high fever and in the end, death. She had tomes on how one contracted the affliction; a bite, a scratch, skin contact with infected body fluids such as blood and saliva. She had biographies of those who strove to end the blight; the method preferred being destruction of the Medulla, severance of the spinal cord or decapitation of the afflicted. She even had one documented case of a survivor; the victim of the assault having severed their own limb. However, for her now endlessly long life, Twilight could find no way to cure those infected. It seemed as if this disease was a death sentence to all who contracted it, though this was still a slight number in relation of the population of Equestria and its allies. Twilight knew that past records stated this blight traveled fast, fast enough that if it was not ended swiftly at its beginning it could consume nations, but she was only one pony! Nopony could find a cure for the blight that did not involve the death of the infected, which by her figures and records were already dead, and if they could not do it with full cooperative collaboration or research and observations over thousands of years, how was she supposed to in a matter of months before Celestia would have to send military force to eradicate the infection. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, slamming closed the massive tome before her. “It’s hard enough to read these in this cryptic language, but now they are writing in Rhyme and Prose?” She huffed exaggeratedly, planting her face on the cover of the book with force. She winced through closed eyes as pain shot through her muzzle, lifting her face and touching a foreleg to her nose to find a self-induced nosebleed. “Great…” Twilight stood from her cushion, hobbling on three legs to the door and knocking twice on the oak planks. It opened, revealing a royal guard clad in golden armor. “Yes Princess,” the guard asked in a deep voice. Twilight chuckled nervously, removing her hoof from her face and presenting her nosebleed to the pegasus. “Yeah, funny thing,” she began. “I was reading, became flustered and gave myself a nosebleed. Could you fetch me a napkin please?” The guard bowed once, turning and muttering something to his partner. The unicorn looked back briefly, nodding and closing his eyes. In a moment, a napkin from the kitchen appeared before her, twilight taking the cloth with her magic. “Thank you,” she said, wiping her muzzle clean as the guards shut the door. She held the cloth against her nose with magic as she walked back to her book, casting it aside and reaching for the next volume. She was surprised to; Lo and behold, meet the stone floor. She looked toward the area a pile had once occupied, finding nothing but dust and some sand. “Great…” … Twilight climbed the stairs of the observation tower, preferring to hoof it rather than fly, her last attempt at flight involving a headlong collision with the castle walls. As she neared the top, she began to pant from the effort the seven thousand steps demanded of her. She stood still on the landing, facing the door with a hoof raised, wavering slightly as she regained her stamina. Once her moment was over, she knocked once on the door, going for a second strike but finding the hard door replaced with something firm yet squishy. “Twilight,” a voice said from before and above her. “Dost thou wish to parley at this late hour?” Twilight lifted her eyes from the floor to the face of Luna, a smile across her muzzle as she waited a response. “To be honest, I was hoping to find Celestia here.” Luna’s expression became slightly downtrodden to find the reason for her late visitor. “It’s about the disease she has me researching. But since you spend more time up here, maybe you could help?” Luna smiled at the mention of being useful, letting Twilight in before shutting the door. “What is it thou wishes to find?”Luna asked, following Twilight into the rows of bookshelves that cluttered the observatory. Twilight looked over her shoulder at her, slightly fazed by the usage of the royal verse. “Sorry fair Twilight,” Luna replied, her voice becoming quiet and uneasy. “My lack of visitors diminishes my familiarity with the modern verse.” Twilight smiled and nodded understandingly. “What can I help you find?” Luna asked, Twilight turning toward the books and observing the subjects on the shelves. “I need a way to observe this disease first hand,” she said. “However, if I do, I risk infection. I can’t have that happen; AJ and Rainbow Dash would kill me if I did.” Luna trotted up to her side, levitating a few scrolls over to her, along with a long wooden box. “Then I think I have what you need,” she said. “Back when we were first threatened by this sickness Tia sought to end the cause without the need for the violence the Zebra tribes had used before. She used these scrolls and the stones in this box to observe other worlds for any semblance to ours.” Twilight perked up at the mention of new worlds. “Did she find any,” Twilight asked, following Luna as she trotted to the large telescope in the center of the room. “Only one with life,” Luna replied, arraying the stones before the telescope and following the instructions from a scroll to adjust the telescope as needed. “Take a look,” she said, stepping aside and allowing her to gaze upon the blue planet. Twilight was amazed by how much the green and blue orb was like their own. The only difference was a large blackened scar over the western coast of a medium sized continent. “By using the stones she was able to transfer her consciousness to the planet. She told me that the spell gave her a body that would serve as a disguise, allowed her to know how to use the different form, and taught her everything she needed to know about the world so she could interact with the sapient inhabitants.” Luna fell silent for a moment, causing Twilight to remove her eyes from the viewing port and look at her. She was reading the scrolls, a scowl etched across her face. “Oh dear…” “What,” Twilight asked, worried something was wrong. “It seems that the world is not just another planet,” she lowered the scroll and read another. “It’s in another reality. Time apparently moves differently there than it does here. She wrote that she spent a year there when she was only supposed to have spent a week.” She fell silent as she scanned another scroll. “Ah… Well that is only a minor setback I suppose. Turns out it was only a week in our reality.” “So was this world suffering from the disease as well,” Twilight asked, Luna lowering the scrolls and nodding once. “Yes, however they had resorted to the same methods of control as the Zebras,” Luna lowered all of the scrolls save for one, nudging Twilight aside before gazing through the glass reflectors. “Interesting,” she said, switching her view between the telescope and the scroll. “That scar on the land was not there before according to this.” She brought the remaining scrolls to her as she finished her mental debate with herself. “Time returned to normal once the year was over, in which she had watched the night side of the world fill with golden lights over the thousand years I was away. They had advanced technologically to the point of sending their kind to their moon on technology in the stead of magic. Oh, well they don’t have any. Interesting.” “Can we use it,” Twilight asked, breaking Luna’s involvement with the scrolls. “I mean, Celestia is giving me a month to find a cure before she is forced to send military force to deal with the infection, and I’ve already read through all of the material that can be compiled on how to deal with the disease. I need hooves on experience with this matter.” “I think that would be a well made decision,” A new voice said from behind her, Twilight starting in fright before turning to face her mentor. “You’ve taken the initiative to find a solution. This is a good choice for a princess, don’t you agree Sister?” She walked up to Twilight, nuzzling her cheek softly. “You mean you’re okay with this,” Twilight asked, receiving a dignified nod in return. “That I am. The spell used to transfer one’s mind to the planet has a failsafe so that if you meet a mortal end there, you will be returned to your body here with no ill effects. To prevent errors in the imitation of the spell, however, I will administer the effects to you.” Twilight looked at her mentor; worry at the mention of death evident on her face. “Do not worry Twilight,” She said, nuzzling her again for comfort. “I will watch over you every step of the way. However, the transfer will force you to forget everything about this world until you return or something sparks the memories. Are you certain you wish to go through with this?” Twilight nodded once, a determined expression on her face. “Very well then, step into the circle and I will begin the process.” … She opened her eyes, shutting them promptly as her gaze was met with the light of the rising sun. “What happened,” she thought, lifting a hand to her head and massaging her temple. She thought about the last night, trying to remember what had happened. She caught bits and pieces of her past; her name, her parents, her friends, memories of a few current events. She settled with the knowledge she had at hand, something telling her to get up and move, a nagging feeling in the base of her skull urging her to move forward. “Alright Twyla, get up and get going.” She rose from the ground, patting the dust from her bare skin before looking around. She found herself in a wood, a hollow between two mountains, a stream winding its way east before turning south. She decided to use the stream as a path, conserving her energy this way as opposed to pushing through the dense undergrowth of the woods around her. An hour passed and she had made progress through the stream, her feet and ankles wet from walking in the water. She had stopped below a creeping wisteria bush, the trunk of the plant hanging down from a ledge above her as she sat on a dry rock. She closed her eyes as she rested, enjoying the smell of the flowers above her. Her eyes opened as a new smell reached her nose, however, this one strange, different and almost decaying. She looked around for the source of rot, trying to find the dead animal or decaying log. Her eyes switched to her left when a strangled sounding hiss reached her ears, finding a man in a business suit stumbling through the small clearing beyond her natural and flowered cage. The man was gray, his eyes milky and his lips missing, revealing damaged and yellowed teeth. He chattered in an animalistic way, hissing, snarling and sniffing as she stumbled closer to the wisteria that hid Twyla from view. Soon three more figures emerged from the trees beyond the clearing, some differing in clothes and genders, but all exhibiting the same grotesque features. Twyla bit her lip, suppressing an instinctual urge to scream for help, staying her feet from forcing her to flee. A gunshot rang in the distance, causing her to squeak in fright. The man stopped in his tracks, turning his gaze toward her, staring directly at her through the vines around her. “Oh no,” she muttered, the man snarling and crashing into the thick tendrils of the bush, reaching through, clawing toward her with his fingers outstretched. Twyla backed up to the ledge behind her, putting as much distance between herself and the creature as possible. “Help! Someone,” she screamed as the other three closed on the bush. > Canto I > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now was the day departing, and the air, Imbrown’d with shadows, From their toils released, All animals on earth; and I alone prepared myself the conflict to sustain, Both of sad pity, and that perilous road... Excerpt from The Divine Comedy, Canto II. “Winter is moving out,” a man, five feet eleven inches tall, pale, gaunt, wispy brown hair hanging loosely on his head and blowing in the firm wind from the south. He held an M1 Garand in his gloved hands, dressed in black snow gear from shoulders to feet, his black combat boots coated in white powder from the week old snow that littered the ground around him. Another nodded once, silent as he watched the horizon. “Seems like it,” the man, five ten, muscular, ebony with long dreadlocks flecked with gray hanging down his chest and shoulders. He was gaunt in the face, as were all of the residents of the town, but he had fared better than most in the first winter. He reached up, breaking a thinning ice sickle from the eaves of a single story building, the spike falling to pieces in his hand. “It’s getting warmer, but you can never tell in these mountains.” The former nodded at the man’s statement, his hair bouncing as he did. “Damn straight,” the pale man said. “Before, it would get warm and then throw a cold spat at you. What’s to say it won’t do the same now?” “The fact that all the global warming has nearly stopped for one,” a new voice said. The two turned around to see their visitor. The man was tall, the tallest in the town, reaching six seven, weighing in at an even two hundred pounds of lean muscle, constantly tanned skin and dark hair. He held an AR-15 in his hands, a Beretta 9mm on his thigh. “Keith,” he said, nodding to the pale man. “Lamar,” he nodded to the dark man. The two nodded in kind, returning to their watch. “How’s the line looking?” “It’s quiet Aedan,” Lamar said, his voice a deeper sort of baritone and his brown eyes slightly glazed over. “The last one I saw was before the snow moved in. I’ve seen some movement behind those trees, but it’s more than likely just a deer or a coyote.” The newer presence, Aedan, nodded, lifting a pair of binoculars to his eyes and scanning the trees. “What do you think, we gonna have us some fresh meat tonight?” Aedan let his head wobble back and forth, lowering the scopes with a shake of his head. “Not unless I can get another two to go out with me to find it,” he said, placing the binoculars in a pouch on his belt. “How’s your wife holding up Keith?” the man in question nodded. “She’s good. Made it through the winter at least. More than I can say for John’s kid, may he rest in pieces.” Aedan nodded sadly, remembering the sight of the teenager being torn apart. “How about you? I hear you’re in the market for a woman now.” “I’m better off without her,” Aedan said with a chuckle. “We stayed together over the winter to keep warm. The sex was just a bonus.” Lamar and Keith laughed slightly at his remark. “How about you Lamar?” “Kids are fine,” he said quietly. “Joseph’s getting close with a girl from across the town, Jerry’s as wild as ever and Latonia’s still sittin inside, reading those books of hers.” He sighed, taking a seat on a frozen tree stump. “Really missin Charlene though. At least she passed before all this came around and ruined everything.” He looked up at Aedan, the man laughing in his slightly higher baritone. “What’s so funny?” “That you think this is all ruined,” he said, still laughing. “Did the world halt when the plague rolled through Europe? Hell no!” Aedan cocked his leg to turn around. “Humanity is a persistent SOB if anything. I’m sure we will survive this and keep growing. I'm gonna go check the north face of the hill; see how it is on the warmer side of town.” … Aedan walked down the road that had been carved into the mountain, the busier side of the sprawling town bustling with activity. People on horseback patrolled the narrow streets between the long three story houses and shops, rifles raised and scanning the horizon as their mounts followed their learned paths. In the distance a wall could be seen, guards pacing the top day and night, armed to the teeth. All was good in the town, except the screams that issued from the door of a house. Fleeing the home was 78 year old Shellie Jackson, her 80 year old husband who had been ill with the flu all winter chasing close behind. He was snarling, groaning and growling as his skeletal seeming hands reached for her. Kevin sighed as he watched the scene unfold, raising his rifle and delivering two rounds to the man’s head. He held his rifle with the barrel skyward as he walked the distance to the woman’s side, kneeling and helping her to her feet as the guards hurried over to them. “This is why we separate our sick from our healthy,” Aedan said loudly as people appeared in the doors of their houses. “We have no idea when someone is going to die, and when they do they turn. If one of your relatives is sick, take them to the medical station in the center of the town. If I wasn’t nearby this time, Miss Jackson would have been bitten today.” He patted her on the shoulder, the woman crying and kneeling beside her twice-dead husband. Aedan continued on his way, ignoring the guards that lifted the body and carried it toward the edge of town for burial. He was intent on reaching the wall, the only accessible entry to the town. He reached the structure, climbing the ladder quickly to be met with nods from the guards. “It’s all quiet up here,” one said. “We haven’t seen a geek in weeks.” Aedan nodded, patting the man on the shoulder before continuing on his way. Mid-way on the wall, a man was sitting in a folding chair, reading a long outdated porn magazine. “What are you doing,” he asked as he neared the man, lifting an M110 from the rails beside him and shouldering the weapon. He used the high-powered scope on the silenced rifle to observe the perimeter, finding nothing but frosted pine trees and white blankets. “Reading Aedan,” the aging man said, turning the page. “You should try it some time, you might like it.” Aedan scoffed, laying the rifle back down and taking the magazine from the gray haired man and looking over the centerfold. It was a woman that looked like she was sick, too thin and too pale. He grimaced, handing the magazine back. “No thanks, if what we have stockpiled is more of that, I never want to read another book in my life.” “Suit yourself,” the old man said, returning to his porn without hesitation. Aedan shook his head, retiring from the wall and toward the top of the hill. … Three months had passed from winter, and spring was in full swing. Animals were in rut and heat, trees and flowers were blooming and shedding pollen, and every member of the small town was miserable with sinus problems. This was no different for Aedan, the half Native American man lying awake in his bed at three AM. He held a scrap of cloth in one hand, breathing through his mouth as his sinuses remained congested. He huffed, sitting upright and allowing his feet to feel the worn floorboards of his father’s family home. With a sigh he rose, grasping his leather jacket and sliding it on, ignoring the thin shirt beside it. He rummaged under his bed for his Beretta, finding it and slipping it under the waistband of his pants, the comfortable presence in the small of his back relieving his paranoia. They had seen several crushes and Melees this month, the Geeks having thawed out over the winter and grouped together to find food. This did nothing to aid the townsfolk’s nervousness of the coming year, instead causing two late riots and several meetings with the town leader, his father. Aedan left the jacket open as he stepped out onto the second story balcony that encompassed the thirty foot wide by one hundred foot long house, picking up the AR-15 that leaned against the wall before closing the door. One of the few comforts he could take in the world was that he still had his father, though for how long he was uncertain. Even with the comforts of Electricity, Food and Medicine, the man was reaching his natural end, being eighty-four and all tended to be a death sentence from Father Time himself. The night was still, as it had been since The Fall nearly a year ago. The sound of traffic on US 119 had ceased completely; the mechanical echoes that he had grown to the age of twenty-one with were missed, even though he always complained about them in his younger years. With a sigh, Aedan hopped onto the railing, catching the wooden supports and easing his way down them, hand over hand to the ground. The breeze that wafted from the south smelled clean, meaning the north wall needed an extra guard. Sleeplessness confirmed whom the gun would be, Aedan making his way down from the peak of the mountain to the wall. As he walked, he listened to the melodic creaking of the water wheel, the quiet whirring of the generators inside pumping their luxury to the town free of charge. The brook that powered their small village babbled quietly, the calming sound turning into a dull roar as he neared the wheel and the short falls that turned it. Passing this was the town proper, the more industrious side of the mountain having grown because of the closeness to the fields that fed their populace. He reached the wall after ten minutes of walking down the tiered road, ascending the ladder and finding a gap in the guards on shift before settling in for the watch. … Dawn brought with it a more eerie glow than it had prior to The Fall, the sense of fear fueled by the fact that Geeks would be able to see more clearly in their never-ending quest for food. It was this time of day that things were most tense, the testament to the fact presenting itself as every guard left their houses and headed for their watch points, the ones already stationed tightening their grip on their rifles, fingers hovering over the triggers. Aedan was no different, having stood from his seat and observing the area through the magnified EOTech holographic sight mounted on his rifle. He watched silently behind the blinds set up before the wall as the Geeks emerged from the trees, stumbling on their feet toward the wall aimlessly. Some sniffed, others stood still, presumably listening and watching for anything edible. All the guards knew the protocol for engagement, snipers fire first, and riflemen only if they pass the line. There were three lines in fact, the first was where you paid attention to them, the second was the quiet fire line, and the third was the murder line. This was where everyone opened fire on the Geeks. The lines had been established after the town was overrun in its early days, the noise caused by the gunfire drew more in, and it all went to hell. A geek stepped across the second like, the putt of the M110 firing was followed by a crumpling body. The putts continued as the silenced sniper rifle continued to fire, the light sound ending momentarily before continuing, the man reloading in the span. “Looks like he’s on the ball this morning,” Lamar said, climbing up the ladder and observing the carnage beyond the blinds. Aedan nodded, not taking his gaze off the trees as more continued Geeks continued to pour out of the trees. “Shit. It’s a damned herd.” Aedan nodded again, twitching his aim down as a geek came close to the murder line. His finger hovered over the trigger, moving away as the biter fell, its skull blown open by a well-placed shot. “I’m running out of bullets guys,” the sniper called out, Geeks turning toward the wall as his voice carried out farther than it should have. “Best get ready to go loud.” Lamar swore and lifted his handgun taking aim near the wall to save ammo. “Alright, let er rip!” Aedan pulled the trigger, dropping a Geek on the second line. The Biters turned toward them, ambling toward them. they all waited for one to get near the second line, ensuring hits. Aedan’s attention was torn from the line as a scream issued from the trees, the Geeks turning their attention to the foliage again. “Shit…” he mumbled. “We got a live one out there!” He pushed open his blind, lowering a ladder on the wall to the outside. “Clear em out! Check you targets!” The guards opened fire, mowing down the crush quickly before reloading their carbines. “Going down,” Aedan called out, getting various responses before sliding down the ladder. “Pull it up,” he ordered, Lamar pulling the ladder back up as Aedan turned and crouched low. He ran low across the five hundred meter clearing, entering the trees and following the sound of the screams. They were constant now, mixing with the snarls and hisses of the geeks. He wove his way past pines and poplars, dodging oaks and ducking under the dangling tendrils of willows. The screams lead him to a small stream, Geeks covering a gnarled wisteria that was blooming. The smell of the flowers was overpowered by the rot of the walking corpses and… “Lilacs?” Aedan stumbled slightly at the unfamiliar smell, the scent unusually powerful compared to an actual Lilac. His attention was drawn again to the screams, the geeks obviously trying to get at their live prey past the flowering bush vine. “Are you alright,” He yelled, raising his rifle and taking aim at the closest one. “Help me!” the reply came, the female voice terrified and wavering. Aedan slung the rifle across his back, drawing a knife and the Beretta, closing in and lashing out at the Biters. He sunk the blade into the first, second and third before the last one noticed, lurching at him with outstretched arms. He let go of the knife, the creatures teeth closing fractions of a inch from his exposed hand. He lifted the pistol, firing and dropping the geek with practiced ease. He took the blade from the dead monster’s skull, the trapped woman rushing out and hugging him tightly around his neck. “Thank you thank you thank you,” she exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek before letting him go. “Don’t thank me ye…” he stopped as he turned and faced her, blushing madly as he noticed her nude form. She was well proportioned, lightly tanned skin, slim waist and slightly wider chest and hips. She was defined by lean muscle; abs, small but definite biceps, legs that seemed to go for miles. “Are you alright,” she asked, Aedan shaking his head clear of the thoughts that had formed. “Yeah, just umm…” he took off his coat, slipping out of his nylon pants and handing them too her. “Put these on.” “Oh…” she mumbled, dressing quickly before having the knife trust into her hands. “What? No! I don’t want this!” “Take it,” he ordered quietly, closing her fingers around the blade. “That gunshot is gonna bring every freak from a mile away to this spot.” He grabbed her right arm, pulling her along the route back to the town. “Come on, we gotta get to the town before they show up.” The woman nodded, letting him lead her along. They reached the edge of the trees, the walls five hundred meters away and the clearing filled with biters. He let her go, holding a finger up to his lips before ducking around the tree. He emptied his magazine into the geeks, grabbing her after reloading and pulling her from cover. “Check your fire!” Lamar yelled as Aedan emerged from the woods in his knit thermal pants, a woman clothed in what he had been wearing. He fired into the crush, clearing every biter in their way as they ran through the field. “Two coming up!” Lamar yelled as he pushed the blinds open, lowering the ladder. He fired on the geeks as they followed the two, lifting the ladder as they mounted the wall. “About time you got back,” he said between shots, Aedan sighing and pushing a plunger on the wall. In an instant, five gouts of flame shot into the air, liquid fire falling on the walkers. He lowered his rifle, looking at the pair. “Like I said, about time.” … “You reek of burnt meat,” a woman said as Aedan walked into the room, ignoring her and taking his place beside the shadowed figure at the head of the table. He stood, as he always had, standing guard against the jackals lining the table. Each of the council was a respected member of the town, having experience in their fields of expertise outclassing others, however many of them were also power hungry, waiting until his father kicked the bucket so they could seat themselves in his position. “Leave him be Rachelle,” a bass voice with heavy growl said from the shadow. “He spent the time it took for all of you to gather assisting the guards remove the bodies from the field so that the stench would not be sustained.” The pale woman averted her gaze as the speaker paused, spinning her thumbs in her lap. “Now that we are all present, I would like to know why it is that my son had to risk his life to rescue a defenseless survivor.” He paused, leaning into the light of the overhead lamp. The man was old, wrinkled with time. His piercing blue eyes shifted from one face to the other, hovering over them until they shifted in their seats. His silver hair hung to his shoulders, wispy and waving in the light breeze that the overhead circulation fans provided. “Alone.” No one moved to speak, some shrinking into their seats, others bowing their heads. “Each of you are responsible for this failure to follow the safety protocols,” he said. “You children, and their children, look to you to tell them what is to be done in any instance that a survivor is found near our walls. Aedan did as he was supposed to do. He was the first off the line, so he did not worry to check if anyone had followed him to watch his back. That is not the responsibility of the first to act. The nearest guard, which was Lamar if the report is correct, is to follow them down and cover them as they saved the survivor. Now why is it that he did not Anisha?” everyone looked at the woman in the far corner of the table, though not directly save for the one questioning her. “I failed to inform him when the orders were passed, Kagel,” she said quietly, fearing the man. “That is correct,” Kagel said. “You failed to inform him. He will not be reprimanded for this lapse in knowledge.” Kagel leaned back into his chair, withdrawing from the light. “Now that that is taken care of I believe we are done here. I want all of you to go home and call a line meeting. Make sure every single one of your children are present before telling them the information.” He looked across the table, watching as no one moved to exit. “Leave.” He said, the members of the council hurriedly vacating the room. Aedan stood by his father until the last sound of the council exiting the building was heard, Kagel sighing and holding his hand off the arm of his chair slightly. Aedan took his father by the forearm, helping him to stand until the aging man located his hickory cane. “Thank you son,” he said in an exhausted tone. “Is it still giving you pain dad,” Aedan asked. “I could make you some of the last of the Blue Lotus if you want.” Kagel waved his hand, taking a few shaky steps before finding his legs again. “No, no that won’t be necessary,” he said, Aedan nodding and moving toward the door, opening it for his father. “These days it’s less the pain in my leg and more the stress I receive from the council to make life more modern,” he scoffed at the word, shaking his head before limping through the door. “Wasn’t it the modern world that created this mess,” Aedan asked, closing the door behind them and catching up with him. “All the advanced medicine causing this sickness to be so vicious?” Kagel nodded, gratefully thanking Aedan as he helped him up the stairs to the third floor. “Yes, yes it was,” Kagel stopped near the wall, leaning against it and breathing from the strain on his age-old injury. “We had no defense against the disease because it circumvented all of our Antibiotics, Antiviral and Retroviral medications.” He stood back up, limping to a recliner in the center of the room and slowly seating himself. “At least that was what I heard on the news before it all ended.” He sighed, extending the footrest and pushing the back down. “So, tell me about this girl. Is she pretty?” Aedan chuckled, seating himself on an old milk crate and laying his rifle across his knees. “You could say that,” he said. “She was naked when I found her.” Kagel looked down his chest at him, eyebrows raised. “That’s what I thought too.” “What does she look like,” Kagel asked, getting a surprised expression from his son. “You found a naked woman in the woods, son. You can’t tell me you didn’t stop to stare for a moment.” “Alright, alright,” Aedan relented. “She’s young, around my age in fact. She has… purple hair…” He said the statement with a questioning voice. “She is proportioned very well.” He fell silent for a moment, polishing his palms as he directed his gaze to a mouse hole in the detailing of the wall. “She had a tattoo of a star on her thigh too.” “A wiccan?” Kagel asked. “No,” Aedan said blankly. “It was six pointed and a deep pink or reddish purple. I think it has something to do with her past.” Kagel nodded. “Probably best no to pry the subject of the ink.” Aedan nodded his agreement, the room falling into silence. Minutes passed before the elder spoke. “I want you to take her into town and get her some clothes tailored. She needn’t walk around naked, and I doubt your clothes fit her very well.” “Yeah,” Aedan said, standing and letting his rifle hang from his shoulder. “I’ll go do that now.” Kagel nodded, asking his son to give him a blanket before he left. … Aedan closed the door to his room, leaning his rifle against his desk before pulling his shirt off. For mid-spring, it was unusually hot. He walked over to the thermometer on his wall, tapping the glass as it read ninety-eight degrees. He watched as his fingerprint fogged over, knowing instantly why it was stifling hot in the room. “Hello,” A cheery voice said behind him. He turned around, observing the towel encased woman that walked across the room, braiding her long navy colored hair. “Afternoon,” he said, noting it was now half past twelve. “Enjoy you shower?” The woman nodded, smiling to herself as she finished her braid by tying a lavender ribbon around the end. Aedan swallowed his anger at the use of the ribbon, the scrap of cloth having belonged to his mother. ‘It isn’t being used, might as well let her.’ They fell into a silence as he milled about the room, organizing boxes and picking up loose clothes that were scattered around the room, making his place of rest more presentable for mixed company. “I'm sorry,” The woman said, turning and facing him. Aedan straightened upright, holding a box in his hands. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Twyla,” She held out a hand, withdrawing it as she noticed the box in his hands. Aedan nodded, walking across the room and stacking the box with some others in a corner. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name,” she asked after a moment of silence, Aedan stopping in the center of the room and sighing. “No, I'm not,” He picked up his rifle from the side of the desk he had placed it against, releasing the magazine from the receiver and ejecting the loaded round from the chamber. “Why not,” Twyla asked, watching him pull the weapon apart and lay the pieces on a white towel. Aedan shrugged, disassembling his Beretta and segregating the weapons on the towel. “Because I don’t know how long you will live,” he said emotionlessly, cleaning the pistol, oiling it and piecing it back together. “If you make it a month and a half then I will introduce myself.” He loaded a magazine into the receiver of the pistol and racked the action, the noise causing Twyla to flinch. “Until then, just call me whatever you want.” He set upon the rifle now, cleaning it from its use over the past week. Twyla seated herself on a milk crate in a corner, pondering the man and what to call him. She considered aspects of his physical appearance, his attitude, his demeanor. None of these subjects brought anything to the front of her mind. She looked around the room, nibbling on the ends of her ponytail as she observed his belongings. Her eyes fell on a book by her side after he had loaded the now whole rifle. “Virgil,” she mumbled, getting his attention. “I think I’ll call you Virgil.” Aedan looked at her with a questioning expression, racking the action on the rifle and loading the chamber before flipping it to safe. “Why are you naming me for Dante’s guide through Hell and Purgatory,” he asked, sitting on his bed and rubbing his palms together. Twyla laid his book down, looking him over as the sun beat down on his back. “Lo! I looked aloft, and saw his shoulders broad, already vested with that planet’s beam, who leads all wanderers safe through every way,” She recited the verse word for word, having just read the introduction of the first chapter. “I remembered how you looked when you saved me from those things, the morning sun cloaking your shoulders and shading your view from me under the wisteria.” Aedan shook his head, shrugging and standing. “I suppose that will do,” he said, opening a wardrobe and taking out a shirt and a pair of women’s jeans. “Here,” he said, tossing his ex-infatuation’s clothes to her. “See if you can get into these. Dad wants me to take you out to get you some clothes of your own.”