Day R

Chapter Two - Scarecrow

They were walking through a narrow street of the town towards the main market squarelocated at the square next to the town hall. Small buildings made of imported materialsresembled medieval houses. However, the town streets were clean and tidy. Althoughpeople used medieval techniques and tools because there were few modern ones, manyof them remembered the time before the war and recognized the necessity of cleanliness.Immediately after the first radioactive clouds dissipated, the survivors started building anew age from what was left. Small town-states became the center of the new world,actively trading with each other. Although towns avoided conflicts, the radiation awakenedorganisms in the ruins that forced people to hide behind high walls. The towns weresurrounded by impenetrable walls. The old panel buildings turned into watchtowers, fromwhose roofs guards observed the endless wasteland. The walls could hold mutatedbeasts as well as increasingly aggressive raiders. 

The town of Shorty was different from the others. The center became the school, whichstood outside the town, and the shock wave miraculously missed it. The old town wasgradually dismantled by scavengers, and new buildings emerged around the school. Theschool stadium turned into a garden full of greenhouses, and the river provided enoughwater for the town to withstand long sieges. The rest of the old panels, bricks, and railwaytracks were used to build walls. Water had to be thoroughly purified using woodencharcoal burned in kilns far from the town. A few months ago, clever heads came up withan improved purification process, where tablets were made from the charcoal and usedin special filters resembling old iron cauldrons. Thanks to these inventions, the townbecame completely self-sufficient. It could afford to close important salt mines and stopprofitable trading. Leading residents of the town built their houses in the alleys around thesquare. Often, wealthy merchants, members of the town council and their families, as wellas officers responsible for the small town army. Protecting trade convoys, as well asdefending the walls, was a priority, and soldiers generally enjoyed great respect. ColonelScarecrow was one of the highest-ranking officers, and his house stood on the very cornerof the square. 

Shorty stopped in front of the massive oak doors. Unlike other houses, these doors werenot from the old world, but the carpenter had made them exactly to Scarecrow'sspecifications. Few in the town could afford such a luxury. Wood was scarce, and loggingin the forests was even more dangerous than working in the salt mines. There was similarfilth here as in the wastelands, but unlike salt, wood was always in short supply. The oakdoors opened, and Shorty was greeted by Scarecrow's wife's pleasant smile. "What areyou doing here? I haven't seen you in a while." The smile vanished when she saw Denyin her field of vision. "And what are you doing here... you brute!" Shorty wanted to avoida pointless argument, so he just waved at Deny to disappear. "Will you let me in? I needto talk to the colonel." He never used the colonel's nickname in public, which was inventedby none other than Deny. That idiot had also gotten involved with his wife, who now hatedhim to death. It was a good thing he disappeared in time. The young beauty put on anothercharming smile and let Shorty into the house. 

The Colonel was sitting in a comfortable armchair behind a massive table. To Shorty, hesomewhat resembled the American president in the Oval Office, which he had read aboutin one of Deny's magazines. He was very good at reading, which was extremely rare intown, and that's why the Colonel respected him. Above all, he admired Shorty'sknowledge of weapons. Not that Shorty was an extremely talented shooter, he was ratheraverage and the Colonel had better shooters in his unit. However, no matter what weaponhe was given, Shorty could handle it. Shorty would very much like to use this versatileknowledge. But Shorty wasn't too keen on following orders. In the swamps, he was onhis own and didn't intend to change that. 

"What are you doing here, youngster?" Colonel greeted him, even though they werealmost the same age. The tall, broad-shouldered warrior rose from the table and offeredthe hunter his mighty right hand. The firm grip always hurt, and before the steel clamploosened, Shorty twisted his face into a painful, ungreased smile. "Not much, Colonel.Actually, it's completely useless. And I kind of hope you'll help me with it." The colonelsettled back into his chair and pulled out a bottle of vodka from under the table. "Do youwant some?" he asked, but he didn't wait for an answer. He knew he wouldn't be refused.Shorty remembered once asking that bald warrior, who was sitting in front of him, for atraining match. It was like wrestling with a piece of rock. This trained mountain wasunbeatable. He downed a shot of very expensive spirits. No home-brewed moonshinethat they poetically called "whiskey" in town. The scarecrow poured a honest pre-warvodka. "So, what's on your mind, Shorty? Is the hunt not going well, or is somethinghappening in town? I saw you recently with that pig who'd rather lurk behind the wallsthan work properly." He was talking about Deny. He hated scavengers, whom heregarded as riff-raff. Shorty wondered where he had gotten that good bottle of vodka,which couldn't be found anywhere but behind the walls. He quickly dismissed the thought.It wasn't important to him now. "It's not that bad, Colonel. You should get to know himbetter. But I didn't come to defend him. I have a feeling that something's not right in theswamps." Another shot landed on the table in front of him. He downed it, savored thewarm feeling in his throat for a moment, and then continued. "For the past few weeks,there's been nothing in the swamps. The hunt is not going well. At first, I thought the frogswould still be in the wetlands, but I spent more than a week there and didn't find anythingat all." He wanted to continue, but the colonel stopped him by raising his hand. "Listen,Shorty, I completely understand that it was your livelihood. Tell me, why are you reallybothering with this? You can't eat them, and after those problems in the mines, yourbusiness is gone anyway. So use the experience you have. You'll find employmentanywhere in town, and if not, I'm happy to help you." The Scarecrow poured another shotand considered the matter closed. But Shorty wasn't going to lose this verbal battle."Colonel, you don't understand me. The frogs couldn't just disappear like that. Somethingmade them leave the swamps or worse, they served as food for something stronger." Thecolonel got up from his chair. He was evidently running out of patience and was about toend the conversation resolutely. "Listen, youngster, if you came to ask me for someadventurous tracking..." Shorty interrupted him mid-sentence. He had received a lead thathe had to follow up on. 'No traces, colonel! That's what scares me the most. There areabsolutely none. Those giant beasts were driven away by something that left no trace.Not a single one.' He immediately realized that this blow would be the end of thecommander. The Scarecrow sank back into his chair. Shorty won the first set andcontinued to attack. 'Colonel... do you remember those stories about abducted childrenwho disappeared without a trace? It was said to be some mutated hawk.' 'In reality, it wassupposed to be an unnaturally large eagle, Shorty,' the muscular man in uniform repliedand poured another shot of vodka. 'I always believed those stories, because anything ispossible in the desert.' The vodka disappeared down their throats and Shorty began tofeel a slight buzz, which gave him the impetus to make another move. 'If you believe that,boss, then you also know that walls won't protect us from anything in the air. And if there'ssomething like that out there, we can't just sit around and wait!' The vodka in their veinshad already removed all inhibitions and Shorty grabbed the bottle and dictated anotherround himself. The colonel did not protest. He believed every word of the hunter and asa commander, he could not ignore the threat. 'What do you need...?' he asked after amoment of silence that was interrupted only by the pouring of the intoxicating drink."