The Wastelands (DISCONTINUED)

Chapter Five: L'Manburg

-Wilbur's Point of View-

Lately I've been thinking about the past. And thinking about the past has been making me sad. I can't stand to get into my old routine. I just miss everyone. I miss logging into the Dream SMP to bother everyone. I miss our role plays. I miss Tommy calling me everyday. I miss all of it.

I fixed my dark grey beanie on my head, attempting to focus on the task at hand. I wore one of my old jumpers that now has patches covering the elbows and other places. I accidentally fucked it up while running from zombies. I wore simple jeans since I'm working on the perimeter today. My leather boots crunched in the gravel surrounding the fencing. I've lived in a small "town" since the apocalypse started. Basically, I was able to band together with a group of people and set this place up. And I somehow convinced everyone to let me name it L'Manburg. Lucky for me, when this whole thing started, Phil and Techno were actually visiting me in Britain. We were planning to make a surprise volg. It would have been a lot of fun. Anyways, Phil, Techno, and I ran the settlement despite Techno's distaste for government. L'Manburg had come a pretty long way since the beginning. While we still had a lot of work to do, we are getting somewhere.

Anyways, back to my job for today.

Today, I have to fix up the fence. The fence is a work-in-progress if I'm being honest. As of now, the fence is just some chain link fence from nearby schools and hardware stores. We basically stole as much as we could get and set up a perimeter. In the future, I want to put barbed wire on the top of the fencing. Just to be safe. I kicked the fence, checking for any places that would need to be patched. I kick it because if the section gives way after I kick it, I know that it needs to be repaired. After a while of fence kicking and fixing, someone started talking over the walkie-talkie. "Ey Wil," Phil's crackly voice said, "can you come to the town center?" I sighed, taking the walkie-talkie off my belt.

"On my way." I mumbled into the walkie-talkie. I tucked my few tools away and moved back into the town. As of now, the "town" is a bunch of tents and make-shift shelters. I finally found my way into the very center of town. In the center is just this random concrete amphitheater that was in the woods. I assume it was used as some sort of Boy Scout or Girl Scout thing.

"Wil," said Techno's monotone voice, "we're discussing plans for food today." I nodded and followed him. I saw Phil standing with a few other survivors. There are few people who volunteer to go outside of the fence.

"Hey Wil." Said Phil as I stood in the awkward circle. I looked around to see adults and even teens who were willing to go outside of the fence.

I looked to my two friends, who would usually have cheery faces and demeanors. However, Phil had dark circles under his eyes and Techno's mischievous sparkling eyes were replaced by dull, even sad, eyes. Phil wore a black jacket that had fur outlining the hood. He wore dusty jeans and thick boots. Along with his outfit was a strap that went from his shoulder to his hip. On the back of it was a rifle he had stolen from an abandoned house. He always carried it with him. Techno wore a slightly tattered hoodie and jeans with rips on the knees. His black combat boots matched the gun holster that held two hand guns on his left and right hips. Weapons wise, all I have is a hunting knife tucked in one of my boots and a pistol fastened in a strap around my thigh.

I put a hand on my hip and decided to speak up. "So what's the plan?" I asked, looking at Phil who usually told us what to do. His eyes flicked to me before looking back at our group.

"We're not running out of food," (somehow we haven't run out, even though we're in week three of the apocalypse)Phil clarified before telling his plan, "but I don't want to have to do any last minute runs." He said, looking around the group. A few people nodded and a few gave a "yeah" of agreement. "So, I was thinking we set up food scavenging parties and hunting parties, just to cover all our bases."