Javier soaked in the air of the dead forest and stole a sigh of relief. A patch of brass sunlight poured through the bush heads and pine trees, and up ahead, not too far from the colony of greens, Javier could make out the battered silhouette of an outpost tower. It was smacked against the peach skyline, with its cracked windows blinking.
Outposts were sanctuaries in the Outer Lands. They represented shelter, resources, and for some survivors, a home. But Javier knew all too well that these weren't permanent residencies and that the longer he stayed in them the more danger he would be in. You always had to keep one eye open, because if the survivors didn't get you, the Skins would. Screams and shouts severed Javier's head. Gunshots. Shattered windows. Pleas of forgiveness. He would eventually find her, and when he did…
"Are we there yet?" Sverre asked. The fair-haired girl stared at him imploringly. There were bags under her eyes and dots of bugs racing across her tattered gray dress.
"We're close."
"Ok."
"Are you hungry? Would you like some chocolate bars?"
"No."
The girl was eleven. Javier had found her rotting in Wentworth, a two hours walk from Rust City, and about an hours walk from Black Sky, his hometown. Her parents had died from the Skins, just like his parents. One day they were scavenging for some food in the supermarket and then they suddenly got ambushed. For Javier's parents it had happened in their sleep. The Skins were known to be like that. Very sneaky. Very stealthy. And awfully intelligent. Javier clutched on to his dagger as they made their way through another clearing and curved right into the trail path. The path opened into a wide gaping area. And right in the center was the wooden tower. There was a crooked ladder that lead to the head of the tower and Javier knew as soon as he entered that door, he would be in heaven. All the resources he could sink his hands into. And at this very moment he could use all the weapons he can get.
The area was still and awfully quiet. Pin drop quiet. Surrounding the tower were a few crumpled tents with stiff bloody corpses disposed on top of them. Javier grimaced, staring at the bite marks where the Skins had gotten them. Some of them had even managed to eat through the scrotum. A few went to the eyeballs. These guys must've been waiting for a while to get into that tower, but they must've waited too long for the Skins liking. The silver lining was that they had managed to drop a few weapons. Javier crept cautiously and grabbed the bow and quiver as well as the spare pistol that lay beside the bloody hand of the dead black man. Sverre followed closely.
"Stay back! You could get hurt." Javier warned. But the admonishment didn't filter through as several whistles pierced the air. A cacophony of arrows stomped the ground, each one getting closer and closer to Javier's head.
Javier tossed the pistol to Sverre. "Hide! And if you see something unfriendly, shoot!"
Sverre froze, a strange look creeped into her gray eyes. Javier understood. "You remember how to shoot? Did your parents teach you?"
Sverre's eyes quivered but she nodded nonetheless. It wasn't a hard nod though.
"Then there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm right here. Go!"
Sverre scampered behind the bushes, a few yards away from the tower. Javier ran towards the ladder, blasting past a couple of bows that shot towards him. One had managed to slice him across the chest. Javier yelped as he clutched his heart, but he tumbled forward nonetheless. The next bow wouldn't miss. Javier knew very well that the next bow would head straight to the heart. But strangely enough, the target had stopped shooting. He must've sensed his close approach. Javier didn't hold back. He mounted the ladder and kicked the door open. The door shattered to reveal a Mexican man holding a bow and arrow right in front of Javier. His hands were trembling, his face was a blood cake, and his eyes were clawed out.
"I thought you were one of them." He gasped nervously.
"The Skins?"
"No cabrón! One of the guys toughening it out outside."
"They're dead."
The target blinked. He understood. But he didn't lower his bow. "I've been out here for a month before those pendejos showed up. Those-those Skins. They got my wife and kids and they would've had me for lunch had I not found this outpost. Then those guys started to swarm in, and I couldn't just leave! I couldn't! I knew eventually that they would return if they didn't get me first!"
Javier breathed silently. His bow lowered but his hands twitched toward his back-pocket.
"What's your name?" The Mexican man asked.
"Javier," Javier said with cold terseness.
"I'm Gustavo. Javi huh?" The Mexican man played with a smile. "You don't look Hispanic, Mr. Blue Eyes."
"I was raised by a Mexican mom. But I'm half German." Javier didn't blink.
The target's face crumpled up. "Are they still alive? Your parents?"
"No. The Skins got them when I was five."
"What about your family? Your wife and kids?"
Javi squinted and turned his head. The images started flooding back. The moaning. The groaning. The lies. The deceit. "They're out there. With some other guy."
Gustavo laughed cruelly. A bloody tear squirted out of his clawed eye. His teeth were abnormally rotten and yellow and his leg twitched an awful lot. "I see. You're on a revenge mission. Aren't you cabrón?"
"I'm looking for my son. She took my son."
Gustavo's face glinted with pleasure. "Oh, I'm sure she took a whole lot more than that. And you're sure you'll find him in Rust City?"
"That's where he lives."
"Who? Your son?"
"No. John Locust. The man who took my wife and son."
"Well, well, well. You sure know how to spin a tale. I like you Javier, you seem pretty nice but I'm sure you'd rather be getting back to your family."
"I sure would."
"Well, I'm glad we came to the same conclusion."
The arrow shot into the air in the flash of a second, but miraculously, Javier instinctively parried it by diving to the side. He grabbed the pistol from his back pocket and shot the coy Mexican man in the groin. Gustavo stumbled back in surprise and then another bullet rang, this one straight to the head. And just like that, Gustavo fell face-flat onto the wooden floor.
Javier looked around the tower room. There were two rocking chairs. A battered tv with two bullet holes chunked into it, and a wooden workbench with a bat and hammer, spare batteries, a static handheld radio, and a duffel bag. Javier plunged his hands into the bag and discovered wads of hundred dollar bills, photo albums, marijuana, and two AKs. Javier strapped one of the AKs to his back and looked around the cabin tower for any food. But this outpost didn't have any. Eventually him and Sverre would have to hunt. Whether it was Skins, or actually animals, it didn't matter to Javier. Any meat sounded good to him right about now. Javier was about to leave the small cabin to find Sverre when the handheld radio started to cough up a voice.
"Hello? Is someone there?"
Javier remained silent. Unsure of whether to leave the radio unchecked. It could just be a trap.
"Please! I need help! I'm trapped here and I need help! My name is Navi. Is someone there? Can anyone hear me?"
Javier caved in. She sounded desperate and alone. He tentatively picked up the radio and held it to his lips. "Yeah, I can hear you."