The Ruins

Chapter 5

Sunset broke still and hot drove Mal to a breaking point. You know when wearing a heavy leather jacket in a hundred degree Fahrenheit, people think on the impossible and judge you to wear stupid clothes.

It doesn't bother, for a while. The coat is a gratitude from Vix, and- one time - saved her life. After the separation of Lucius' War and a group who were family, half of them, were weak, too hidden from The Ruins, and they all got killed, Mal was alone. Three winter's finally came and her ugly rainbow coat was torn up. She scavenge around huge mall for supplies and a better jacket. She came to find a store where a red leather jacket was: the sweater and jacket kept her war. Then a group of men came, attacked her, she fought back, and an Infected came out the corner, teeth gazing on the forearm. It nearly scared her to death, she knew one bite can lead to death, and when pulling the sleeve, no marks. No bites.

Another important lesson; no matter how exhaust the heat can beat on her, a leather jacket can protect you from the bites.

Also, Mal's been a rebel in heart and the jacket is pretty cool. Especially this jacket is made from Vix.

She's been carrying a diary where she sketches detailed and abstracts drawings, most are fashion clothing. Vix is the girl who falls over any little objects and turns them into a beautiful antiques. Anytime they hunt, they skin and tan the hide and she uses it to makes it into moveable, secured, and stylish clothing's. The clothes she's wearing is hand-made; leather skirt, dyed in blue, ripped skinny jeans from a store but has patched pockets for storing bullets and bandages, and a long sleeve shirt, thick enough for not scratches but decorative with beads, jewels and a some sort of a misty cobweb design, completed with a V-braid.

Mal's jacket did seem ragged; the neck had to be cut since it practical choke Mal to death so she cuts it and it hangs loosely if it shown a mouth. The edge of the bottom is uneven, covering a quarter of her one thigh, broad shoulders, and one right hand has a fingerless glove.

This jacket is a treasure, a friendship from Vix.

They ran past the orange and white barrels propped high on old tires, sloshing their way through a deep puddle in the street. To her right was a building that was tattooed with the old familiar red & white WANTED signs of half a dozen known leaders of the Flyer Frontiers.

"Mal!" she called. "We are getting there. C'mon."

As they turned up the street, Mal see's Vix going fast - she was fifty yards in front and headed toward the steps leading to an entrance in the far tenement building.

Well, it's almost night so they better hurry.

She reached the steps of the entrance and stopped to catch her breath. "Looks like the coast is clear," she said. She headed up the steps toward the heavy double doors. "C'mon."

Mal jogged up the steps just as Vix was holding the door open for him and he ducked inside.

She followed her into the darkened hallway, closing the door behind her. Vix turned and looked at her. She sighed. "Well...So much for the easy route."

They were in a quiet lobby of an old apartment building; paint-chipped walls, the smell of rotting wood. The large checkered tile beneath their feet was dingy and gray. Some of the doors in the hallway were barricaded with the familiar military locks: iron bars that expanded into door frames in both directions.

She turned and headed down the hall. "We're gonna have to go around the outside." She turned to her left and headed down another dark hallway.

Mal wasn't sure she'd heard right. "Outside?" Two things immediately sprung to mind: trigger-happy scavengers and flesh-ripping Infected. Neither filled her with confidence.