The cold air is hard to breathe. The snow is hard to walk on. And he barely had a decent night of sleep. He was tired and hungry,trying to sleep. Curled up in a fetal position he was.
"Fox Boy." He heard someone call his nickname.
He opened his eyes to see the face of his superior. A tall and strong man, with a bald head and a thick beard. "Yes, sir?" He stood up from the ground to greet him. Fox Boy doesn't really know his name.
The two are on an abandoned house that they found for shelter. It was warm enough.
"I received the call, the invasion will occur in a few days." He informed him. The man then walked to sit down on a couch
"What are your orders?" Fox Boy asked.
"You will go out and check for a new outpost. Somewhere that can accommodate the rest of us until the invasion." He gave him the orders. "I'll stay here and wait for the rest." He then checked his leg, which was injured.
"Yes sir." Fox Boy replied.
"Good, now go." He told him. "Take this radio." He handed him a radio. "The rest of your masked friends will be here later."
The reason why he was called Fox Boy, was because of a fox mask that he wore. He never wanted this nickname or the mask. But he was so used to it, that he couldn't stop wearing it.
Fox Boy nodded at his order and made his way to the exit. The moment he stepped outside, he wanted to go back inside. The cold was worse than it was yesterday. He started walking in the direction of his objective. Trying to enjoy the piece and quiet while hearing the sound of the cold wind. Because tomorrow, tomorrow there will be very loud noises.
He wasn't aware of the plan. A week ago, this group of bandits told them about this town. Before they knew it, they were planning to take the place over. Like they did all the others. Some were bigger and more equipped, but they fell all the same. The bandits think that they're working together, truth is. They're all probably dead by now. The man back there will die when the others arrived.
As he kept on walking, he checked his equipment. He only had two weapons on him. A handgun and a sword. The handgun was a Walther P38, with only a few extra bullets inside of his coat's pocket. The sword was a broadsword that was strapped on his belt. Limited equipment, for a disposable object.
Fox Boy kept on walking, wondering why no Infected attacked him already. Especially since he was out in the opening.
He could tell that they the walk was going to be long. So he distract himself.
When the low heavy sky weighs like a lid
Upon the spirit aching for the light,
And all the wide horizon's line is hid
By a black day sadder than any night;
When the changed earth is but a dungeon dank
Where batlike Hope goes blindly fluttering
And, striking wall and roof and mouldered plank,
Bruises his tender head and timid wing;
When like grim prison-bars stretch down the thin,
Straight, rigid pillars of the endless rain,
YOU ARE READING
The Fox Boy Chronicles
FanfictionWhen everything seemed to be going well, a new threat presents itself. When a sudden surprise attack destroys their home, Joel and Ellie found themselves in great danger. After being saved by a masked individual, they need to find a new refugee for...
