A N T O N I O
"Stupid fucking leaches," words so soft they could hardly be counted as real words. The young man was cursing under his breath as boot-clad feet crunched over dry dirt. Particles floated into the dry, hot air, from the soft thump of his steps as he moved in a lazy manner through the hot sun. Quite frankly Antonio didn't give a damn about how bad the higher ups wanted him and when. He'd get there when he damn well got there and not a second before or later. It was too hot to be rushing around like a fucking moron anyhow. Besides, he was wearing all black and his mood wasn't really cut out to deal with this harsh heat, scouting bullshit. He only put up with the Greaser life because it was people. There were real, living, breathing people. It beat being in those weird ass Safety Shelters that made promises they couldn't keep and don't even get him started on being a loner. That was downright laughable.
Perhaps there was a small chance that he really enjoyed what he did here but you see there's this thing called pride. It's a hell of a drugs and well...let's say Antonio might just be addicted. There were plenty of things the asian male didn't do because of pride. Even on hot ass days like today he wouldn't decline the position of sniper up on that high post where there was little wind and even less shade. He'd swelter in the high heat because damnit, this job was important and he was damn good at it.
Another forlorn sigh left the adult as he inched closer and closer towards the promising shade of the compound they'd claimed as their own. It was in his state of heat induced daze, that made it possible for that annoying (adorable) runt to play his damn dirty (fucking hilarious) tricks. A body crashed into his, Antonio's eyes going wide as his steps faltered, arms wrapping around the form tackling his own on instinct.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" his voice broke out, low, rough, and very surprised. Brown irises, like warm chocolate, found the dirtied face of a certain eight year old that had a seriously annoying (endearing) knack at finding the older of the two (the
wayy older of the two). Antonio groaned, eyes turning from shocked to annoyed as he stopped, holding the kid on his hip with a frown etching on dry lips. "The fuck do you want kid?" He huffed, his usual tone of pure annoyance warping all of his words as he stared at the boy who happily wrapped himself around him.
"Don't you have shit to do? Shit that doesn't involve me?" He grumbled, setting the much younger male down and continuing on his way towards the compound. Although he'd never admit it, like not even in a thousand years, that damn kid was rather cool. Like an annoying, seriously he's fucking annoying, little brother that Antonio never wanted. Still, he was here and had certainly wormed his foul mouthed, hyperactive, ass into Antonio's daily life whenever he could find the chance.
Like seriously, who the fuck watched this kid cus that was not in Antonio's job description. G H O S T
Faint sounds of gunshots rolled through the sheets, a soft crackle that could easily be mistaken as thunder. Emotionless eyes lifted from the small fire flickering before her, keeping a petite body warm in the coldness of the night that pressed in on her from all sides. Lips pursed in a thin wash of mild intrigue. She wouldn't go pursue the noises. Whoever was out there, that was there business. Hers was here, with her fire and her supplies, although.... "They would have heard," she muttered to herself as she stood and stretched tired muscles. Ghost sighed to herself as she kicked dirt, quickly smoldering the fire that had been crackling before her just moments before.
"Stupid dickhead," she cursed whoever was out there firing this way and that recklessly.
Some of us out here are actually smart and being quiet, Ghost hissed mentally as she began to pack up her small camp. Everything was placed strategically back into an old backpack that she slung over her shoulders. Years of training made it feel like an extension of her body. Old words, laced in a deep voice, one that seemed wise and knowing at the time, steady and strong and reliable, wormed its way into her mind. Her father's voice, his old idioms filtering through her mind before she instantly put a cap on that. Ghost knew better than that now. He was just as cowardly as the rest of them, all of them. All so afraid of dying, of eating, of being better, being in charge. Stupid things that didn't matter anymore.
It was scary, when someone stopped caring. They were empty, walking around, going through the motions. Ghost survived because she could. It was what she was born and raised to do. Ever since she could remember, she had worked to survive. Death wasn't scary anymore. There was no one to be around for, nothing to be around for either. If it wasn't controlled by the government or the Greasers, it was empty and barren and blank. There was nothing left of the world that only half of the population left even properly remembered. School, friends, libraries, movies, parks, happiness. Despite the shit ravaging the world, that politics, the economics, day to day wasn't so mad if you had laughter.
"Tch," Ghost scoffed as her feet moved through the steadily dying forest. The hot day time heat sweltered and wilted the foliage that was left. Water didn't flow fast enough to quench the thirst of the lands any more. Humans made sure of that, damn sure. When they hadn't been trashing it with landfills and pollution, they tore it down for mega mansions that could, quite literally, house a small village happily, for two people just to have it. Plenty of times Ghost wondered if this is what they deserved for what they'd done to their home.
Alone with just her thoughts, things like this often crept up. They were the only things that kept her company, the only things she wanted as company. Attachments were fatal, and although she had no real attachment to being alive, death wasn't something she was just rushing off to jump in to either. It was just a thing, something inevitable that would come one way or another. Something inescapable be it starvation, lurkers, humans, animals. This weird infection and the severe lack of resources didn't change that.
"Please stop getting so damn philosophical," Ghost grumbled to herself as she broke through the forest she had been roaming through. She hadn't even noticed that green had given way to brown, the number of trees still standing dwindling drastically, and just because they stood did
not mean they were alive. Her steps paused as watchful eyes moved around the barren land she found herself in. Her gaze landed on a pile of bodies toppled over into an entrance.
Now, from where Ghost was standing, there was no way to discern who was in that bunker, dead or alive, and even if, beneath that pile of waste, one of those damn bastards was still alive and waiting for their next easy meal. Lips pursed, gaze flickering back towards the dying forest, to the way she had wandered in from, no destination, no origin. Attention turned back towards the bodies, steps dragging her closer. This could either really pay off or be really stupid...but if it did pay off...
Decision made, Ghost moved closer. Practiced steps were silent as she crept forwards out of sight of the entrance. If anyone actually was still alive in this weird little thing, they wouldn't see her coming. Fingers drew an arrow from the side of her pack, stringing it easily. In one smooth motion, she stood, whirling in on the entrance. No words, no hesitation, the arrow flew straight, the wet thunk of it hitting her target earning just the faintest flicker of a smile before her expressionless face returned.
"Hey," voice monotonous, bored even, as she stared down at the man she'd just shot in the thigh. "I'm taking your food," she declared before shoving dead bodies out of the way with soft grunts as she made her way down. Sure, she hunted not too long ago, but meat was finite. It had an expiration date. Canned foods though, like those found in bunkers like this, like her fathers, those...now those lasted forever.
Member
Izurich