Daughter of Darkness (AHS: Apocalypse)

Ch. 5 - Outpost 3

October 2021

For the entirety of the year following the nuclear holocaust organized by Michael and the Cooperative, he and Melanie travelled across the world, each destination being a single outpost where survivors were kept and housed in luxury compounds. Most of them were in Europe, Asia and the South Pacific, but there were one or two situated in the Middle East and the Indian subcontinent. There were also some in the United States, including Outpost 3 in the middle of California. It also happened to be an elite boarding school for young men before it became property of the Cooperative. Alas, all but three outposts no longer had living inhabitants, as they either died of starvation or the victims of attack by feral cannibals. The latter of these they had come across in their travels by land; all they were, were just survivors of the initial blast but had physical symptoms of advanced cancers from the radiation and were desperate for any source of nourishment as a last attempt to hang onto dear life.

Upon landing in California from a visit to Bora Bora, an island with one of the only surviving outposts remaining in the world, Michael and Melanie took a three-day break in one of the sanctuaries. This was just enough time for the agents working there to procure a carriage with two horses, as well as new anti-radiation suits for he and his daughter. For Melanie, this trip halfway around the globe was quite an ordeal, and it didn't occur to her just how dangerous it was. Now, she was two years of age, but appeared to be between six or eight years old, with the mentality of someone the age of twelve. It was a very lonely trip for her, as well – Miriam wasn't with her, but she was glad Miss Venable was not along for the trip. As for making friends and social interaction, the little girl tried to socialize but was limited for several reasons; one, her father instructed her not to make friends with the survivors; two, there were none close to her age; three, whenever she did try to interact with them, they were taken aback, intimidated by how eloquent she was for such a young girl. In fact, Michael made sure that his adoptive mother had certain memories de-programmed for her protection; being one of the guards at Outpost 3, their next destination, she had to be sharp and quick to administer her duties without question. The last thing that would be tolerated was pondering on memories of the little girl she considered a granddaughter, and the man she took in as her own son.

When they left the sanctuary in the horse and carriage, they had travelled for nearly two hours before stopping to get a read on how much further they had to go. Michael and Melanie were both in fully-protective black suits complete with helmets and oxygen masks. He got off the front seat and released the reins on the dark-colored horses. Once his feet hit the ground he looked into the window at Melanie, who nodded to signify that she was doing alright. He took out a device that looked like a reader and turned the dial to show how much more they had to travel to get to the outpost. This was a helpful contraption, as due to the blasts and radiation, the air was foggy with a toxic mist, not a road sign to be seen for miles and miles.

A distressing sound caught his attention. It drew nearer and nearer. It sounded human, yet inhuman at the same time; to Michael, it was the definition of suffering compressed in a single sound. It was a mixture of deep sobbing and wheezing, like an advanced stage of lung cancer or some severe respiratory condition. Michael, through the goggles on the mask, looked over. Melanie from inside the carriage saw the spectacle as well and even took the liberty of stepping out of the carriage for a better look.

It was a woman with two children, the smaller of which lay lifeless in her lesion-covered arms. Both youngsters were covered in discolored tumors, and the woman's hair was stringy and patchy, as though she was severely affected by alopecia or some other cause of drastic hair loss. Only half of her brown tresses remained intact to her scalp, whereas the rest was flaking off, bloody, and tinted with dark brown and purple lesions. Michael realized after a few moments of staring at them that the child in his mother's arm had been dead for some time. Melanie, seeing that they were children, like her, tried to meet them halfway as they approached the two suited individuals, but her father grabbed her by the arm before she could; his grip was so hard that she thought her small arm was going to fall off.