Death Wish

Out Of The Frying Pan

Seattle. This city belongs to the dead.

Who knows why that went through my mind at this very moment, but it did. My footsteps, however soft they may be, echoed through the lonely halls. Anyone within the building would be alerted of my presence within seconds. If anyone else was alive, that is.

"Clear." Jackson didn't have to raise his voice. I peered over my shoulder to see him hanging out the broken window, our only light source, grasping the runner along the windowsill with one hand and his Colt with the other. His messenger bag was propped up against the wall just behind him.

"I'll check the bottom floor." Three months ago, we were completely clueless on how roof jumping works. Now, we could be considered experts. We'd crossed the entire south side of Seattle without even catching glimpse of the road below, hopping from rooftop to rooftop with barely a problem.

The morning sun was close to cresting the grey, rusty cityscape. The first yellow and pink rays were beginning to peek through the dilapidated buildings, giving the entire city a rather serene look. I'd never stopped to enjoy it too much, considering how much of a rush Jackson and I were always in to get to some sort of shelter before morning. While the biters weren't much of morning people, it was the rouges like us that would be waking up to scavenge soon.

My attention snapped from the sunrise to a groaning down the stairs, creaking following. Jackson gave me a brief nod before tossing the climbing axe strapped to his leg towards me. I caught it with one hand and set off down the hall, stopping to listen to the creaks and moans every few yards. It sounded like the rotter was stuck, wherever it was. I wished I could locate it more accurately, but neither Jackson nor I were blessed with the EchoLocation special, unfortunately, but we got more... scarce ones.

You see, fifty-two years into an Undead apocalypse and humans started to adapt, for lack of a better word. People began to change themselves however they could to make themselves better suited for this kind of world. Some of them used surgery and re-arranging parts of the brain, others used electronics, and some stayed the same. While parts of the world, mostly Europe and Africa, refused to use these types of abilities, most of North America's ruins had agreed, when they had no other choice. For us, it was either adapt or die. But it was alright.

Jackson and I are native to Canada. British Columbia, to be exact. About ten years into the apocalypse, huge cities were reduced to rubble, and from that rubble, grew sprouts of civilization. They were teensy-tiny sprouts at first, but soon grew to safe places where somebody could live. Of course, there was always going to have to be a sort of military. That was taken care of already, considering that anyone alive to find these refuges would have had to live by the law of death. Basically, everybody alive at this point could fight, and fight well.

Fast forward about twenty-six years. The solace of the survivors in the heart of Vancouver was thriving. They've got gardens, a functioning military of seventy-nine armed warriors, a school, a church, and five walled-off neighborhoods for the residents to live in. November 24th, 2050, two babies were born. One to a family that lived in the outside, one that lived on the inside. Jackson was born in a eleventh-story apartment in the ruins of Surrey at three A.M., me in a Doctor's office in the community of Volition at three P.M.

Jackson's parents died when he was nine. He was left to his older sister Sabine. She dropped him off at the gates of Volition when she realized that she could hardly handle herself, nonetheless a kid who still needed raising. While Jackson's old schooling of how to survive in the Decay still clung to the depths of his mind, he started to pick up our new ways in Volition very soon after.

However... Once you turn fourteen, you get a certain ability implanted inside your brain. You only get told exactly what is in it and how it works if you sign up for Technology classes, to become a Doctor. I'm a Herbology student, Jackson is Militia. Er, was. Three months and it's still constantly slipping my mind that Volition is long past us.