Brian Steele - 4POCALYPSE - Four Tales of a Dark Future

Sean was too stunned to even laugh.

“No need Ronnie, no need.”

“Ronnie Ray-Gun would do you good, boy!” yelled Hard Dwight.

“Lock them up,” said Anne in self-righteous satisfaction. “While I decide which one to interrogate first.”

DataLog Text-MemxJourn: Doyle, Sienna A. / 24-04-24

Night had already fallen by the time Sienna had awoken, and now the new morning’s light was starting to creep in over the edge of the horizon. They had been thrown into a shed, or maybe a very small garage, already filled with filthy, bug-ridden clothing heaped in a corner. The damp stench was fetid mix of sweat and decay. Gemmel had braved the pild in search of a weapon, or a tool to cut their ropes, only to find a couple of decomposing dogs left under the filth. He was making little headway on his bonds with a piece of broken bone.

Although their hands were tied tightly, they hadn’t been secured in any other way. Sienna was limber enough, and built correctly, to bring her wrists below the apex of her tailbone and along the back of her legs, before righting them in front of herself. She immediately began to help Gemmel, the few nicks he had endured making it harder for him to hold the bone shard with bloody fingers. Sean, in the corner, attempted to duplicate his sister’s feat to repeated fail.

“Shit, Sienna… I’m sorry,” grumbled Gemmel as she sawed at his ropes.

“What the hell for?”

“For gettin’ you in this mess.”

She grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at her. “You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“Couldn’t leave you,” he mumbled, averting his eye from her glare.

“Damn it, you and my brother need to figure out that I can take care of myself.”

“No, it’s not…” he tried as she broke through the ropes.

“What then?” Sienna hissed.

“Um, guys?” Sean called out. “Could you untie me? I think something’s going down in crazy town.”

A racket had picked up down the alley, a cacophony of screams and gunfire. The sound of rushing footsteps and panicked commands. An explosion in the distance rocked the shed faintly off its foundation and the chorus of screams increased.

“Now what?” Sean mused as Sienna got his ropes off.

Peering out the door, they saw Leechers running towards the spot where they had been held before Anne Gimme, while others fled past them. One retreated clutching a sparkling blue wig to his head. Another smaller explosion took a building up in flames.

“We need guns,” said Gemmel.

“We need our Servants,” observed Sean.

“We need to get the fuck out of here,” concluded Sienna as she bolted from the shed.

They kept to the side of the alley, passing two more escaping Leechers. They didn’t have any weapons on them and didn’t even give the formerly captured trio a second glance. Pausing at the corner, Gemmel stuck his head out around the edge, but jumped back. Moments later, a woman came running by, only to be snagged up in his powerful arms.

“Lemme go!” she squealed.

“Stop, just tell us what’s going on!”

“Missy Big-Britches!” she wailed.

“Wait, that’s your name?” asked Sean.

“Nah, Missy Big-Britches took! Ms. Anne taught us to take, and she did!”

“What?”

“She took! And now she’s a’ feedin’!”

Gemmel let her go to scamper off into the morning.

“I think she just said somebody named ‘Missy’ is a Feeder now,” he said.

“Why haven’t they taken her out?” asked Sienna, peeking around the corner.

“Uh, Sienna,” said Sean quietly. “You decimated half their people and most of their weaponry.”

She could only reply with an, “Oh.”

The trio crept out from the alleyway and into the madness. Everyone was either attempting to engage the Feeder or running from it screaming. Sean, Gemmel and Sienna stayed concealed and moved closer to where the makeshift table had fallen over. The battle itself was another block over, but hopefully in the outbreak, no one had thought to swoop by and abscond with any of their Servants.

Sure enough, one still lay face up in the dirt at the side of a broken chair. Sean prowled along the outskirts a bit more and spied the other two at behind. He dashed out, scooped up the first two and was reaching for the third when a howl echoed through the plaza.

“You!”

Anne Gimme stood there, the flames backlighting her like some demonic figure from literature. Her face was pinched in indignatious rage, a single bony finger pointing at them. Blood dribbled down from a wound at her temple.

“Users! Enemies! I’ll see your corpses stink for this injustice! I’ll see you all…”

A single rock flew out of the Sienna’s hand and cracked the Leecher in the face, knocking her unconscious.

Gemmel started to open his mouth but she just held up a hand.

“She was a lunatic. Now can we run?”

Darting up through another alley and then onto a wider road, the trio kept moving in a direction they took to be north. One Leecher popped out of a window, but Gemmel clotheslined him without breaking stride. At one point they hesitated, the highway winding west, but they jumped to a nearby underpass and continued north. With the sun now rising, it was easier to judge. Their running had turned to jogging, only speeding up again when they heard a commotion inside a warehouse close by. Less than an hour later, the steel beam latticework of a bridge rose up in front of them. A few vehicles seemed to be strategically parked on it.

“I’m going to pass out,” Sienna groaned.

“No problem, once we’re across,” said Sean.

They had taken a few steps onto the bridge itself when three distinct shots landed only paces in front of them.

“Hate to be un-neighborly like that,” came a voice. “But we don’t really care for Gimmes here, nor their problems. Best turn ‘bout and go home.”

A man as huge as Gemmel, both in muscle and in gut, materialized from behind a van. A schlock of red hair and an equally bushy red mustache stood out in contrast to his weather-beaten pale skin. He was only slightly less imposing than the Gatling gun he held causally in his hands

“A modified M134 Livermore!” gasped Sean.

“Shut! Up!” Sienna stressed.

“Jackie’s up on high with his long scope, and Jackie don’t miss,” said the ginger giant conversationally. “Now, ‘course, given my distance and this here toy I’m carryin’, don’t likely think I’d miss neither. Be on your ways now.”

“We’re… we’re not with Anne Gimme,” said Sienna.

“Uh-huh.”

“No, we were captured by her!” she exclaimed. “We were coming here, told to come here, we…”

“And jus’ who woulda guided you lost lambs in our direction?”

Sienna took a single step forward, Sean hissing a warning behind her.

“I was told to tell Old Man Mandela that Jean-Baptiste Camus says to ‘remember Shelby Park.’ Camus says remember Shelby Park!”

This gave the massive man wielding a Gatling gun quite a start. He gave second one when an elderly black man strolled out from behind the van next to him and placed his hand carefully on the weapon, lowering it.

“Well then Child, you should have opened with that.”

DataLog Text-LiveJourn: Doyle, Sienna A. / 23-10-24

Pittsburg is pretty much the nightmare I thought it would be, some absurdist concoction of overgrown greenhouse and over-enthusiastic butcher shop. I can sense the Feeders lurking in this blood-soaked jungle, but few wander too near. Those that do, don’t wander anywhere again.

I don’t need backup, but I wish I had some. More for the company than anything else. I’ve thought a lot about Sean these last few days. And Gemmel. Jay Gemmel.