Victims of Circumstance

Chapters

The Sacrifices of Survival
Broken Bonds
Fading Sanity

The Sacrifices of Survival

The silence was unbearable as two men, one clearly older than the other, drove down the lonely and desolate road that was torn up from the lack of maintenance and upkeep. The snow and ice wasn’t helping either. The younger man looked to the older one and silently regarded him, admiring all of his perks and flaws. He had been traveling with his older brother for quite a few years. Hell, the old bastard practically raised him. He looked to the road, but could barely see a thing out there. This winter was beginning to be a real nuisance.

The snow made hunting and foraging difficult. Animals were often hibernating or just trying to stay warm, so food had to be rationed among the two. Often the older brother went hungry so that his sibling wouldn’t. Although it was tempting to take some of the food for himself, he constantly had to shove the thoughts back. Times were tough these past years, resources had gotten more scarce around the world. Humanity was running out of time, and if something wasn’t done about it, things were going to get way worse.

The younger brother looked back to the older, and asked while he adjusted himself in his seat, “Where are we going again, Lucas? You didn’t really specify.” A look of doubt was on his face. Generally he didn’t mind where they were going, and just let his brother do the work. But he was just looking for something to talk about.

“East.” Lucas responded rather abruptly. His voice had a tone of annoyance in it. It was unclear if he was thinking extremely hard, or just trying not to crash the truck due to the ice. “Too many poachers n’ slavers in Nevada, so we’re going to Wyoming to talk to an acquaintance of mine. For gas n’ directions. Then... I don’t know.”

“So my ass is going to suffer the long ride then. Wonderful.” his younger brother sarcastically replied. They had been on the road for God knew how long, and Wyoming was pretty far away. No, there would be no fun. Just some quality family bonding time with big brother Lucas. Wonderful.

“Listen Brett. You know the rule about complainin’.” the old man disappointedly reminded his younger brother. “That means next time we make camp, you gotta go scout the area.” Clearly he wasn’t in the mood to be toyed with, after what had happened before they left Nevada.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just that for all our survivin’, we never sat down to enjoy ourselves. I know that, in this new world, such ideas are crazy. But I just want a piece of the good life, ya’ know?” Brett said, his daydreaming getting the best of him yet again. He knew that ideas such as those got you killed but, frankly, what was the point anymore? It was just camp here and then move on. That’s all it ever was. Occasionally there would be civilization, but too many times that hasn’t worked out.

“You think I enjoy this too? All this killin’ n’ murder. It ain’t right. But now there’s a whole new meaning to right n’ wrong. Now it’s why you killed a man that makes it good or bad. Where I was raised, we were told to turn the other cheek when we were slapped in the face. Now when you get slapped, you have to choose to hit back until they stop moving, or to let them go...” Lucas replied to his brother’s ‘ideas’, but it was obvious something was on his mind. He seemed to get bitterer with every word and sentence. Clearly this wasn’t bringing up happy memories.

Brett knew that these words rung a truth greater than most. He knew of a town that had an impressive population of about fifty six. But they trusted the wrong guy, and let a bite victim in. In a matter of days, the last of the stragglers either died or moved on. It was unclear how many did live that massacre, but rumors said about five of them turned up. That in itself was a miracle.

Lucas was thinking about this as well, the sounds of screaming and burning, growling and flesh tearing. It was a brutal massacre. Remaining fresh in his mind as if it just happened the day before, he stared out before them as the memories flooded his mind.

“Damn it, we’ll keep him under supervision! What the hell can one infected locked in a room do?!” The mayor shouted at Lucas, making him wince as spit and leftover food hit his face. They’d been arguing for a good thirty minutes now, and it definitely didn’t seem like it was going to stop soon.

“Unless ya’ want your ‘supervision’ to be writhin’ on the ground with bites on their necks. You’ll take that bite victim, give them some food and water, and throw them out in the wild where they belong!” the old man shouted back at the mayor. He was quickly losing his patience with this man. If the bite victim didn’t kill the mayor, Lucas would probably just do it himself.

“But it just isn’t right! Whatever happened to kindness?! To humanity?!” The mayor retorted rather weakly, his composure visibly shaking now.

Lucas could see in the mayor’s eyes that he knew what had to be done. He was just too god-damned stubborn to act on that truth. He thought Brett was stubborn, but this was ridiculous. “Kindness died when half the world did from an epidemic we couldn’t control! Humanity? You know where that’s going! Down the drain! Now either you’re gonna throw his ass out, or I will. I’m not letting more of our people die for the sake of ‘kindness’ and ‘chivalry’. That’s all bullshit nowadays and YOU KNOW IT!” he yelled almost at the top of his lungs. Lucas was about to lose it right there. It was hard to keep his cool when dealing with someone who barely knew how to run a group of fifty six people. It was pathetic.

The mayor was red in the face as he was yelled at by Lucas. The guards off to the side were ready to pounce. Lucas was just as ready if not more, his temper barely in check. If these assholes decided to try anything, he’d be ready. They were idiots, just like the mayor. You couldn’t keep a bite victim in your home and expect things not to go badly for everyone.

Lucas took a pen and slammed it into the wooden desk. Making it stand straight up, because the writing side was lodged into the desk. This was primarily to intimidate the mayor, but also a tool in case the guards tried to remove him from the area. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen.” he said in the most deathly tone the mayor had ever heard.

“You try anything, Lucas, and we’ll be forced to drop the population from fifty six to fifty five. Maybe fifty six to fifty four if your brother jumps in.” The guard on the left threatened Lucas, who walked up and into his face.

The older survivalist cringed as the guard’s odor reached his nostrils. He ignored the smell, and waited for the guard to finish his sentence. Then, in one swift movement, Lucas grabbed the left wrist of the guy and the back of his head. He’d slam the guard’s face directly into the pen, causing it to go through the eye and to his brain. “Total population, fifty five.” Lucas said over the dead body that was now leaking blood through its face. “You were right, we were forced to drop the population.”

“Wha-... the hell…?” The mayor stuttered, his eyes wide in shock. It seemed excessively surreal to him, probably because he didn’t witness death all that much. Almost instantly, the four other guards closed-in on Lucas, who merely grinned like an absolute madman.

It was dangerous to provoke someone who was already on edge. Too bad Lucas was already over it years ago. He stared at the revolver barrel aimed at his face, and grabbed the man’s wrist. He pressed his finger on the cylinder and popped it right out of the gun. The bullets hit the floor, scattering about their feet. Lucas then pulled the gun down, and pivoted so the man was behind him, so he was able to jerk his head back to hit the chin of his opponent so that he would drop the gun.

The other guards were about to converge on Lucas, who was already turned around and ready. Just as he was about to kill off the remaining guards, the entire room’s occupants stopped and stood still when they heard a shrill scream of pure terror somewhere within the village, followed by the sound of ravenous snarling.

“Told you so…” Lucas scolded the cowering mayor.

Lucas hung his head in silence for a moment. That day was a flat-out massacre. One of the biggest he’d seen in a long time. They weren’t ready for anything at all, the village was so secluded from the rest of the world that they didn’t prepare for one to attack from the inside.

“You and me have been through the worst. At least we went through it together.” Brett said, trying to reassure his brother.

“Look, if things ever get better, then we can relax. But now? If we let our guard down for even ten minutes, we could end up dead and all the things we’ve done will have been for nothing. I don’t see it ending soon, thirty years’ve gone by, and nothing’s gotten better. If you have a shot, you take it and you-” Lucas was going to go on one of his lectures again that he was famous for, but he saw something in the distance coming up on the road. It appeared to be the silhouette of a person, laying on the ground.

“Hey hey, stop the truck. It could be another bite victim but we’d know as soon as we pulled up. Looks like he’s alone anyway. Hopefully...” Brett said, his compassionate side showing. I mean, what could go wrong? He was still wary, though.

“Looks can be deceiving...” Lucas said as he pulled the truck over, quite a few feet away from the body. “Stay here.” he told his brother. Taking a step out of the truck, he left it on idle in case they needed to get away as fast as possible. After pulling his hood up on the jacket he was wearing, a moan came from the body, but it was inaudible to them.

“Alright. He looks dead, so it probably won’t be all that interesting. Oh, and if he’s dead then we should loot him. That is, if he has anything good.” Brett said as his brother got out of the truck, seemingly bored. This wasn’t an occurrence that was rare. It never hurt to look, though.

Lucas made his way over to the body, and already felt the cold of the air on his face. Reaching down to his pant leg, he grabbed the hilt of his machete and removed it from its sheath while approaching the body. The old man bent over to inspect the body but something was off.

It was warm.

There was something definitely wrong about this. Playing on a hunch, Brett pulled out his hunting rifle from the space behind his seat and turned the safety off. He continued to watch the surrounding trees, looking for signs of movement that would indicate trouble. He slowly got out of the truck, making sure not to let his eyes stray from the woods.

There wasn’t much time to react. A gun was already pointed at Lucas’s face before he immediately let his instincts kick in. In the blink of an eye his machete was swung, and the gun-hand of the ambusher was removed from the wrist, blood staining the blade from the clean cut. As soon as it touched the snow, Lucas grabbed the gun out of the dead hand and pointed it out toward the trees ahead, shooting it off right at the silhouette of a person. At the same time, he stabbed his already-dying opponent in the neck with his blade so he would stop screaming. “Brett!” he yelled to alert his brother.

Brett immediately sprung into action, whipping the hunting rifle up, taking aim at the now visible men in the woods, and taking two out in a hurry. With each shot he had to pull back the bolt and push it forward so it would put another bullet in the chamber. He then ran to the door of truck, and closed it just enough where he would have enough cover from the oncoming shots. He peeked over, taking another two out. God, he hated being right.

Lucas made sure to stay low, but he grabbed the dead body just below him and pulled it up just over his shoulder. Staying crouched, the old man used the bleeding body as a meat shield as he made his way to the truck. Just as he reached the headlights, his calf was skimmed by a bullet, and he fell over next to the truck. The body fell just on top of him. “Dammit!” Lucas shouted as he struggled to get back up and into the truck. Once inside, he put the truck in drive and did his best to drive away from the attackers.

Brett relaxed against the seat and cursed, “Shit… we should have seen that coming earlier.”

“The damn bastards got my leg, next time we see a body on the ground, we’re runnin’ over it.” Lucas angrily said while looking at his slightly bleeding leg, but his body looked like he’d taken a bath in blood. That body got it all over him. ‘He better not’ve been sick or infected...’

Brett’s eyes widened in realization as he said, “They didn’t have a car. You suppose their camp is near?”

“Of course it is, when it’s this cold you can’t go more than a mile on foot without complications. I say we wait till’ nightfall and get some good ol’ fashioned revenge. This leg is gonna’ be hurtin’ for weeks now.” Lucas said as he put the truck on cruise control and lifted his leg up, “Patch this up.”

“Stop your bitchin’. We’ve been through worse.” Brett said, rolling his eyes. he looked down at the so called wound. It definitely isn’t good, but it’s not the worst thing that’s happened. Something bothered him, though. “If they were that intent on killing us, then that means they’d do that to other travellers. I agree with you. Let’s mess em’ up.”

“Same as last time?” The older brother asked.

“Yep. Same as last time. ‘Just hope I don’t get shot this time.” Brett said, shivering as he rubbed his left hand that had been shot just a few months ago. Antibiotics were hard to come by nowadays, so they didn’t exactly have room for error (being shot). Lucas will be fine. Hopefully.

“Well maybe if you stick to the plan this time, you won't get shot. You were supposed to silently take their lookout down. Instead you alerted the whole damn camp.” Lucas scolded. It was a simple plan that didn’t require his brother to do much, and yet he screwed it up.

“They were about to execute a group of travellers. There were little girls. At least we saved two of them.” Brett said, as gut-wrenching flashbacks of holes in the victims’ skulls came to them both. He would take a bullet to the hand any day, if it meant saving more of the innocent. God, why couldn’t people work together instead of killing each other? The world the way it was, was so savage and barbaric that humanity regressed hundreds of years just from one single event.

“It was their own damn fault for getting captured in the first place, it’s not up to us to be the clean up crew fer’ other people’s mistakes.” Lucas harshly stated while he stared at the road in front of them.

“Okay. The next time you get captured, I’ll leave you to your fate. Not my mistake.” Brett grumbled angrily. he was sick and tired of his brother’s merciless attitude. What the hell was the point of surviving if you lose yourself in the process?

“Family is different, we ain’t got a point livin’ if we have nothing to fight for. If you get captured, I’d get you out. Even if I didn’t care, I still made a promise to mom. But other people just ain’t our problem because we have enough of our own. If we spent all our time helping other people, we wouldn’t have enough supplies to help ourselves so we can help other people. Understand?” Lucas lectured, it was a harsh truth he learned a long time ago. There seemed to be a lot of harsh truths these days. Like that there were no more twinkies left. And that loved ones tended to stay with you. Because their ends were usually pretty gruesome, and you just don’t forget something like that.

“So if you hadn’t made that promise, you would have left my ass a long time ago? I love you too, asshole.” Brett said, his voice conveying that he didn’t want to talk more about this. I mean, what the hell was the point? Shit happens.

“I’d go back... if it was best for the group. Sometimes you have to sacrifice one to save many.” Lucas dryly told his brother, he already knew it was pissing him off. But he didn’t care.

A look of intense hurt clouded Brett’s face as he swallowed the cruel words his own brother was sending his way, “Yeah…”

Lucas took a look at the gun he took from the bandit, and lowered his window. He threw it out and shut it again. “Damn bandits, one of these days I’m gonna just kill em’ all and be done with it.”

Brett didn’t say anything. He merely looked out the window, wondering if they were ever going to make a damn cure. There were rumors that there was a cure in production, but that was probably all bullshit. That’s all it ever was. That’s all it will ever be.

Broken Bonds

The snow crunched underneath the feet of the younger brother, who was following his older brother. Earlier, they had decided that this bandit camp could be a point of interest. So the two decided to go back to the ambush spot, and see where the survivors could have gone. After only a few minutes of searching, they had found a blood trail amongst the white snow.

Lucas bent down to inspect the spot where the ambush began. Since it was pitch black he aimed his flashlight at the body. The one that Lucas stabbed in the neck was gone. But the old man was smart- naturally the neck released a lot of blood, so it would give them an easy trail to follow. At least, up until they could find solid tracks of footsteps. “Brett, get your trigger finger ready. We’ve a trail to follow.” he said as he stood back up, and began to closely follow the blood north.

“My trigger finger’s always ready. Lead the way.” Brett said. With that, he followed Lucas as he tracked down the injured bandit. Brett had told his brother that the bandit camp could be full of supplies they could use. But the real reason was because he knew they could have prisoners, and he didn’t want any innocents to be harmed. Of course, by the way they had attacked, he knew that probably wasn’t true. They didn’t seem to want to take him and Lucas as prisoners, so the possibility of that was slim to none.

“We need a plan of attack. This time one that’s fool-proof so you don’t get shot again. I swear you whined and cried for hours. It’s just a hole in your hand, suck it up.” Lucas began to ramble on his train of thought. He’d been itching for a proper revenge- last time he tried to get revenge, it didn’t go so well.

“Screw you too. That hurt a lot, I’ll have you know. When’s the last time you got shot, hmmm?” Brett asked, getting angry. Why couldn’t he just let that go?

“When you have three fingers cut off and nothing to reattach them with but a dirty needle and a spool of thread, then you have the right to scream and cry. Especially if you have to do it yourself.” Lucas said, bringing up the time where he actually did get his fingers cut off. It took months for them to heal back to full strength. He noticed the blood trail was getting harder to follow, so they must’ve been on the right trail.

“Let’s just keep our minds set on the task at hand. You’re going against your own survivalist rule. Stay vigilant.” Brett said, indicating he wanted to end the conversation. He looked off to the side, hoping they weren’t being watched- by humans or other things. He was actually pretty surprised that they had not spotted any of the infected yet. He was also wary of the fact that anyone could see their flashlights from this distance.

“I’m always vigilant. If I ever let my guard down, you and me would’ve died long ago. Like that time we were sleeping and an infected invaded our camp. Stabbed it in the back just before it got to ya’, because you were too busy dreaming about sheep and love.” Lucas was getting a bit annoyed at his brother since he hated nagging. But he made sure not to make eye contact, that’d make it worse. He’d already thought of choking Brett numerous times.

“Let’s just let it go. Remember, I wasn’t the one who started this. And now I’m ending it.” Brett said, his teeth barely grinding against each other. Sometimes, his brother got carried away with scolding him. He’d probably regret that thought later, but he just didn’t want to live in this world. Of course, suicide wasn’t an option either.

“Good... wait, do you see that?” he said, before turning his flashlight off quickly and pointing in the distance. A faint glow could be seen by both of them signaling that the bandit camp was near. “Alright, I want you to do some scouting for any patrols and their leader since it’s your turn. I’m gonna see about finding a way to break their defense.”

“Will do.” The younger of the two said. With that, he veered off to the side, hoping to get a good vantage point. He looked around for a bit until he found a suitable tree. He placed his foot in a small hole that the tree had, and heaved himself upward. Before long, he had climbed up the tall tree. With the old binoculars he pulled out of his rucksack, he could see everything that the bandits were doing. They constructed wooden beams as a wall around three log cabins. There were two bandits on some very small watch towers, with rifles in hand. What caught his attention the most was a glimpse of bright orange and purple disappearing into the biggest of the three cabins, which were accompanied by four bandits. That couldn’t have been what he thought it was… could it?

Meanwhile, Lucas made his way to a little road that must’ve been made for the bandits. He spotted a couple of headlights coming his way, so he hid behind a tree and waited for his opportunity. Luckily, it was going slow enough for it to be to his advantage. Just as it passed by, he sprinted out and rolled under the jeep, grabbing a hold of the bottom of the vehicle. It dragged him a good fifteen feet before he could get his body off the ground. “Damn it...” he whispered to himself.

Brett looked around the camp with his trusty binoculars, hoping for a glance of whatever he had spotted before. He shrugged it off, deciding that it was just a figment of his imagination. The bandits seemed to be on high alert as well. But that was to be expected, due to their ambush party being crashed. He kept on looking at the third cabin, regardless of his mind telling him to take in all of the camp.

Lucas waited for the jeep to come to a stop. He saw two sets of legs and feet hop out and make their way farther in to the camp. To his left, he saw the walls of one of the cabins, so he rolled out towards them. Just after he got up, he opened the cap to the gas tank so it was wide open. ‘Best use this as either a distraction if I need to get the hell out of here, or a tool to mass-kill anyone in the area...’ the old man thought, before propping up against the wooden wall. A guard passed right by, although luckily he didn’t notice him. So he quietly made his way to the window, and removed the machete from the sheath on his leg.

Through the binoculars, Brett could see his brother inside the camp, who was stalking a lone guard. Apparently, his guard partner had gone off to the opposite side of the first cabin to urinate. He watched as his older brother sliced the unsuspecting guard’s throat open and drag him under the cabin. Brett was confused at first, but then noticed that the cabins appeared to be built on small beams, which left an area below unused. But more importantly, unsupervised. “Good job...” he said to himself, allowing himself a smile of satisfaction.

Lucas raised his hand so Brett could see, and pointed at one of the lookouts who was preventing him from getting inside the cabin. He wanted him to be taken out, more importantly to gather attention around that area, and not the one he was in.

Unslinging his rifle, Bret took aim at the guard near the front gate. With deadly accuracy, he took one clean shot through the head of the oblivious guard. As soon as it happened, a dozen bandits came pouring out of the cabins to investigate. “Now it’s your turn…” He said, lowering the rifle.

The older brother reached into his backpack and pulled a match from it. He hopped in the jeep and put it into neutral so it wouldn’t have much trouble moving. Afterward, he’d go to the back of the jeep and light the match, placing it gently on the edge of the entrance to the fuel tank so one little bump would make it fall in. He made his way to the back of the jeep and pushed. ‘That should do the trick...’ Lucas thought to himself as the jeep rolled further into the camp.

Brett watched all of this develop in the span of a few minutes. He saw his brother run to the side of the third cabin, and take cover. One of the bandits saw the vehicle moving and was about to alert the rest of guards, but he was cut short by the sudden explosion. All of the bandits dropped to the ground to cover themselves, giving Lucas a chance to run inside the cabin. Afterwards, they all got up and inspected the vehicle, steering clear from any flames.

He took this chance, but instead went for the window. Bracing himself, the old man ran and leapt into it, shielding himself from most of the damage with his jacketed arms and jeaned legs. He landed directly on top of one of the bandits and stabbed him directly through the mouth with his machete so it would go through to the brain. He’d quickly pull it out, and swipe a knife from the dead body. He threw it toward one of the other bandits in the room, and immediately lunged to grab the dying body. With a pivot, the body was used as a meat shield against the oncoming fire from a handgun. Lucas shoved the body forward as a distraction, and took a glass bottle from an end table with his left hand. Nearly seconds later, the last of the three bandits were on the ground. Only one was left alive, albeit with a severe concussion.

A fourth bandit watched with perverse pleasure as the older brother took down three of his comrades. He took out a machete that was strapped to his back while he removed a combat knife from his thigh. The bandit got down low, and creeped his way closer to Lucas.

“You have three seconds to scram and not piss me off.” Lucas said while he gripped his machete tighter. “One...” he warned, but the bandit kept moving closer. “Two...” still persisting. “Three!” Lucas said as the bandit approached him. He deflected a slash from the machete of the bandit with his own blade, and juked backwards away from the knife. Looking around quickly, Lucas spotted a drinking glass. He swiped it, and smashed it into the head of the oncoming bandit to keep him from attacking. Afterward, Lucas kicked him in the gut to knock him back into the wooden counter behind him.

The bandit grunted, and dodged a downward slash from Lucas, then kicked him in the side of the knee. Immediately afterward, he sent his knife directly toward the old man’s neck.

Lucas had to think fast, it was do or die. So he dropped his machete and caught the wrist of the bandit that was holding the knife. Pivoting to get his feet under him, he twisted and sent his elbow back into the bandit’s chin. The knife and machete of the bandit clanked on the floor after a short fall. The old man took a moment to get used to the pain in his knee before the bandit made another move.

Outside Brett could see that bandits were still busy trying to put out the burning inferno that his brother had created. There was something going on in the cabin, and whoever was messing with Lucas, he was clearly holding his own. To pass the time by, he started shooting at the dozens of bandits below, taking two out in quick succession. Right as he thought he could take at least three more out, his gun jammed. He looked down and cursed, hoping that they had not pinpointed his general area from the muzzle flash or the noise from the rifle.

Meanwhile, inside the cabin Lucas took numerous punches to the face in partially rapid succession. Just before the bandit hit him with one last punch, he grabbed the shoulder of the arm that was holding him and pushed down to make the bandit bend over. So Lucas pushed forward and sent the bandit’s head directly into the glass door of a cabinet. Though before he could do anything else, the bandit’s foot hit him in the stomach, followed by a massive uppercut to his chin that sent him barreling over a table behind him.

The bandit then ran towards Lucas at full sprint, his eyes no longer holding amusement, but pure hatred.

The old man got up and looked around quickly. There, he saw his way out of the situation. He ducked down and knocked the table over to smash the foot of the bandit. After the bandit yelped, he deflected a fist to his face and kicked the table to knock the bandit over. He quickly shoved the table out of the way and grabbed the bandit by the jacket. He pulled the man up and began to run, dragging the dazed bandit with him. He proceeded to throw his opponent through the other window in the cabin.

The bandit soared through the window and through the other behind it that lead to the other cabin right next to the one they were in. Immediately the men outside were alerted to Lucas’s presence.

The old man went and grabbed his machete, took some R&R for his bleeding face and dove through the broken window and into the other cabin where he met three more bandits plus his rival. “Son of a-...” he groaned before dodging a knife aimed at his gut. With a smooth spin he planted his blade into the thigh of the lunging thug and slid it across, causing the leg to split right open and bleed without end.

The other two were easy, with a spin Lucas’s machete met the neck of one of them and the back of the other. Lucas and fighting was like chocolate and peanut butter- a perfect combination.

Brett fumbled with the rifle, finally unjamming it after what seemed like forever. He took aim and shot at a couple of bandits who were trying to get into the cabin Lucas was in. He took down three of the bandits, making the others back off, obviously getting the clue that the cabin was off limits. He fumbled with his ammo pack, and accidently dropping it down the tree, making it roll down the hill and into some foliage. He jumped down and withdrew his pistol with the homemade suppressor attached to it. He knew there was no finding the ammo in all of those bushes, so he started running towards the camp, under the cover of the trees. Before long, he was at the wall. Now the fun could begin.

Back in the cabin, Lucas sent a fist forward only for it to have it taken and twisted. He yelped in pain as it clearly became strained more and more. Before it could go any farther, Lucas pulled back to make the bandit lean forward. To which he kneed his opponent as hard in the face as he could, just so he could grab the arm that was twisting his wrist and lock it. His enemy’s face was now presented, the same with his torso. With a vicious torrent of blows from his left hand, the bandit’s face quickly got more and more disfigured.

But as he beat the face of his opponent, something snapped in Lucas’s mind. His hand almost got broken. So now, he just followed his instincts. He pushed forward, and put his body weight on the bandit, rolling over the bandit’s back to completely dislocate the arm and have it follow him. They both landed on the floor, and Lucas swung his body around to lock the arm between his legs. With a single twist, the arm broke in three places. It was evident from the three snaps that sounded through the cabin. Lucas wished he had his machete in his hands, but it was across the room. So instead he put his foot on the face of the bandit and began to pull.

The bandit couldn’t even scream because of the foot on his face, but the pain was already insane. It quickly became evident his final moments were right then and there. All he could do was let out a little whine.

Lucas pushed with his foot and pulled with his hands as hard as he could. Until finally the skin around the shoulder of the bandit began to tear, it was already dislocated. The old man yelled as he pulled as hard as he could. Lucas could feel the muscle of the arm tearing between his legs until both the neck of the bandit broke and the arm had nothing connecting to the body except for maybe some tendons and remaining flesh.

Brett snuck around the edge of the first cabin and made his way to the third, hoping they wouldn’t guess he was an outsider. He ran to the cabin like he had purpose being there. The bandits around paid no attention to him, obviously thinking that he was one of them. He busted through the door, slammed it shut, and pointed his handgun at the door, expecting people to come through. Just like he had anticipated, the remaining bandits came rushing in, thinking it was safe to enter. They ran in, but didn’t see the younger brother off to the side. He picked the remaining five off in with five quick and silent shots. He looked out the window, but did not see anymore bandits around. He then ran to Lucas’s side to see if he was okay. He looked up for a short moment and what he saw shocked him beyond any belief. Inside a makeshift jail cell were two technicolor ponies with even greater expressions of horror and shock. “What in the hell…?!” He exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“Ungh...” Lucas moaned through his exhaustion. Seemed like every time he stopped thinking and just started acting, he got more and more sore. Nearly tearing the arm off that bandit took almost all the strength that he had. “What... ngh, is it?” he asked while slowly rolling over to attempt to get back up.

“T-that…” Was all Brett ‘said’ as he pointed at the frightened ponies. Or rather mumbled.

The old man sighed and managed to sit up. He saw what Brett was looking at and shook his head. “I must be seein’ things, that bandit hit really hard.” Lucas said while groggily staring at the colored... animals, whatever they were.

“No… I see it too...” Brett said.

The purple one stepped forward to the front of the cage and spoke. It actually spoke...

“H… h-he-help...” It said while trembling violently. It was obviously terrified, but then something clicked. It was a she, due to its feminine appearance and voice.

“What the...” Brett said before going into shocked silence. His attention snapped to the window of the cabin, which had melted from fire that had spread from the exploded jeep.

“We need to get out of here, Brett. Forget em’ and let’s go!” Lucas exclaimed before rushing to his feet and grabbing his machete from the other side of the cabin. He was still exhausted, but had to push just a little bit more. He ran over to Brett and put his hand on his shoulder to try and start pulling him toward the door.

The younger brother slipped out of Lucas’s grip and grabbed the key ring from one of the fallen guards. Before his brother could protest, he fumbled through the keys, slid in the right one, and unlocked the cage the little horses were locked in. “Follow us if you want to live! NOW!” He yelled. The orange one snapped out of her state of shock and followed Brett. Soon after, the purple one followed behind.

Together, the two humans and two ponies ran out of the cabin before it was completely enveloped in flames.

“Dammit, Brett!” Lucas yelled out while running through the camp. He noted the two ponies struggling to keep up, so he just went and picked them up under his arms. “I swear I’m gonna’ to choke that little bastard when we make camp!” the old man exclaimed angrily.

Brett heard yet ignored Lucas as he made his threat to himself. The younger brother looked back to see the ponies gripped in the old man’s arms. He looked forward and kept his mind set on escaping the area. He didn’t know why he had ran to the ponies’ aid, but in that moment of confusion, he also had a moment of clarity. He was tired of leaving innocent people behind for the sake of survival. He just couldn’t do it anymore. He wouldn’t.

After they had gotten to a safe distance away from the camp, Lucas set the two... things, down and made his way over to Brett. He shoved him directly into a tree and sternly said, “What the hell do you think you were doin’?!”

“The right thing. Yell at me all you want but they ARE coming with us. I don’t want to leave you out here but if I have to, I will.” Brett said, his eyes showing the anger, coldness, and mixed feelings he had capped-up all of his life in one glare. His eyes gave out that kind of look that said ‘Try somethin’, I dare you’.

“I dare you to try. See how you do takin’ care of some stupid animals all by yourself! At the expense of your own brother! I don’t need you, and I never have!” Lucas furiously yelled at his younger brother. Afterward he’d grab Brett and throw him to the ground, he was extremely close to just beating him relentlessly. But he remembered it was family, though it was hard to cope with that fact.

“All my life, I’ve stuck with you, no matter what horrible choices you’ve made. No more. I CAN’T do this anymore! If that’s the way it has to be, then so be it.” Brett yelled as he withdrew his pistol, pointed it at his brother, and slowly sidestepped him. His eyes said that he would pull the trigger if it came to that. He walked towards the confused ponies and offered them a look of sympathy, which calmed them down.

“Pulling a gun on me now?!” He said while he walked over to Brett, he grabbed the gun and put it right to his forehead. “Go on then, shoot me! It’s been a long time comin’!” he yelled, staring his brother directly in the eye. Showing that he meant it.

“You know I couldn’t kill my own brother. But I’m not too sure about you. I’ve seen that look in your eyes. You hate me. You’ve always hated me. The only reason you stuck with me was because you made a promise to mom. I’m leaving with them and I’m leaving you. I won’t be your problem anymore.” Brett said, his eyes cold and full of sudden realization.

“GOOD! I HOPE YOU GET INFECTED JUST SO I HAVE A REASON TO SHOOT YOU IN THE FACE!” Lucas yelled directly in his brother’s face and swatted the gun away. After that, he adjusted his backpack and stormed off to go back to the truck. That’s right, he was leaving them with no way of transportation.

Brett’s face softened into immense hurt. He felt a trickle go down his cheek as he watched his only friend he’d ever had disappear. He had promised himself that he would no longer cry when mom died. But Lucas was the only family he had left. He felt a hoof from one of the ponies on his shoulder, and could feel a bit of pity from them both. He dared not look at either of them, though.

“Come on… we have to go.” He said, shrugging his rucksack on, and walking off. Soon, the ponies followed, exchanging looks of partial confusion but mostly empathy. He had nothing left.

All he had now, was a couple of ponies, a rifle, and no reason left to live.

Author's Note

Well here it is, the 2 chapter amazing intro of Victims of Circumstance. There will be more soon, so be ready for that.

Fading Sanity

He had nothing left to hold on to. It took Brett a good amount of time to comprehend this. Him and Lucas had been together for years and it had never gotten this bad. He knew that it was too late to accept his brother back into his life. He had one more responsibility…those ponies. He turned his head off to the side slowly, finally opening his eyes. He was surprised to see that the purple pony had snuggled up against him. The way she held on to him reminded him of a frightened child almost, “Hey, wake up. We have to keep moving.”

Her eyes cracked open, flinching when they came into contact with the blinding sunlight, “Huh… what? It’s... you. So… it wasn’t a nightmare?”

She got up slowly, her facial expressions adopting a rather depressed look. He frowned, feeling some pity for her, “Hey, I know it’s tough, but if we stick together, we can survive. Oh, and you should wake up your orange friend over there. It’s not smart to stay in one place for too long.”

She nodded and walked over to the snoring pony, nudging her with a hoof. “Hey, Applejack, wake up.” Twilight requested.

Some groans were heard, but all that Applejack did was turn over in her sleeping bag. “Twi’… why can’t Ah just get some darn sleep? Not like anypony’s gonna’ find us out here…” The farmpony tried reasoning.

“It’s not the bandits I’m worried about. The infected could be lurking around at every corner.” He said simply, like it was something bound to happen.

They both looked up and tilted their heads, saying simultaneously, “Infected?”

He looked up at them, expecting to see grins, which would have pointed out that they were just kidding around. They looked genuinely confused, to Brett’s dismay. “You…don’t know what the infected are? Where are you from…?”

They looked at him as if he was crazy, “Uh… we’re from a place called Equestria. A more important question would be… where are we right now?” The purple one replied.

Brett packed up the sleeping bags into his sack, trying to cram them in with the rest of his scarce supplies. “Well, we’re in the shitty state of Colorado. Well… what’s left of it.” He had a thought, and asked about it. “Wait… how long’ve you two been here?”

Twilight said sadly, “Well… we’re not quite sure what happened. I was in my library, and the next thing I know, I woke up here. Right next to Applejack, of course. I think around five minutes later some creatures like you came and took us. I think they were bandits… But, you came to our rescue afterwards… that’s all I remember. Thank you, again. If you didn’t show up, who knows what they would’ve done to us.”

Brett saw several million illogical things just from that statement alone, but he decided to shrug them off, “Well, I think it’s time we got moving. Got a long day ahead of us.”

Wordlessly, the two ponies followed him when he had gotten done packing. They trudged through the snow for quite a while, stopping every once in awhile when Brett thought he had heard or saw something. He wasn’t used to being depended on. Now that he had a taste of what Lucas had to go through, with mom and him. He felt slightly bad for the old guy, but quickly shrugged that off, remembering the mean things that asshole had said to him.

After about a half an hour of their boring trek through the forest, Applejack piped up, breaking the silence, “Where are we even goin’?”

Brett sighed silently, and replied. “East…”

Twilight giggled, but got a little bit more serious. “That’s not very helpful, Brett.” She didn’t sound angered or anything, just pointing out an obvious fact.

He merely grunted in response, which scared him because he was starting to act like Lucas. He wanted nothing to do with him, at all. “Yeah, sorry. I just have a lot on my mind...”

Twilight didn’t say anything- then again, she was there last night, when the shit hit the fan on astronomical levels.

He didn’t have to look back to know those two were exchanging looks. Brett didn’t need their sympathy. He just wanted to stay in one place without having to worry about bandits, getting a piece bitten out of you, or where your next meal came from and if it was even safe to eat. He wanted to have some of what Lucas talked about. A house, kids, a car… hell, even a dog would suffice. Not like you see many of those anymore. Let alone kids.

They had walked up onto the top of a hill after some effort. It was a pretty steep hill. Brett looked out over the horizon before took out his binoculars and sweeped the surrounding area with them. He stopped when he spotted a small town. There didn’t seem to be any inhabitants, so he spoke. “See that town over there? That might be a good place to find supplies. It’s most definitely been looted but there might be something of worth left. Who knows, we might even find some ammo, but I doubt it…”

They began the hike down the hill, trying not to fall, which would probably result in a broken leg or two if they did. Brett scaled it like a pro, but the ponies were having a difficult time going down, “You girls alright back there? Do I have to carry you?”

Twilight’s face became flustered, “Hey, I appreciate the concern but I think I’m perfectly capable.”

Brett shrugged, leaving them to it. Without much effort, he’d gotten down to the bottom and was looking around, making sure they weren’t being watched. After about a minute, the two ponies had finally gotten down. In complete silence, he kept going in the direction of the town. When they had gotten close enough to make out the smaller things, Brett stopped and looked at the buildings, one by one. Content that there were no open doors, he went into the town.

“Alright, I want you to stay close to me. Anything could happen in an instant.” Brett warned- rather, commanded the ponies, who seemed frightened by his grave tone. He walked up to a general store, withdrew his pistol, opened the door, and swept the room with the weapon. He looked upon the shelves and was shocked to see clean bandages still on one of them. There was even a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“I think we’ve just hit the motherlode…” Brett grinned ear-to-ear. It was rare to see such luxuries in any place. He had been so focused on packing everything into a cloth bag, he had nearly forgotten the ponies. He snapped his head up when he heard a shrill scream. Applejack looked up in alarm from a box of tampons, which she had been studying with interest.

Instantly, he ran to where he heard the scream. He tracked it to an open door, which Twilight sprinted out of. He brought his pistol up, knowing what came next. What came running out was one of the infected so he shot at it to grab its attention. Its torn flesh hung limply from its face and its left cheek was completely gone, showing blackened, rotting teeth. Fleshy growths were all over its body as well, which served as an armor of sorts. It slowly looked from the fleeing Twilight to Brett, its yellowish-red eyes sizing him up as it quickly became angry.

Brett turned and ran the other direction back to the store, having already hatched an idea. He slid around, making sure a large shelf was between him and it. He saw it running at him, arms flailing, and making snarling noises. Putting both hands on the shelf, he pulled with all of his might, slowly tipping it over. When he thought it was too late, the shelf came down, and landed on the infected, along with all the items it was holding. It squirmed and screamed, trying to get out of its imprisonment, still glaring at him with those disgusting eyes.

Brett turned and ran out, not looking back to see if Twilight and Applejack were following him or not. He didn’t stop running, even when the town started becoming smaller in the distance. Only when he thought it was safe did he look back. Behind him were the two ponies, panting from exhaustion.

Twilight looked up, her eyes full of fear, “Wha- what was… THAT…?!”

When Brett had finally caught his breath, he said, “That… was an infected.”

Elsewhere

“Ungh...” Lucas moaned while he woke up from his sleep. He didn’t have much recollection of what happened the night before, all he remembered was that he drank himself to sleep with what beer he had left in the back of the truck. After his vision became clearer, he looked out the windshield from the driver’s seat and found he’d apparently driven to the outskirts of a little town, it looked to be populated well enough. Great... people. The last thing he wanted to see.

Lucas reached under his left arm and pulled on the door handle and the truck’s door swung open, causing him to fall on his back and out of the vehicle. “Son of a bitch...” he groaned while he stood. “Okay... where’s the nearest bar.” He said to himself while he looked over his reserves of alcohol. Which bittered his mood, as there was none left.

As the old man made his way through the quiet town’s streets, he looked up to figure out what the time of day was. Judging by where the sun was, it was clear that it was late afternoon. It wasn’t like him to wake up so late, but then again it wasn’t like him to drink himself under the table.

After asking for directions, Lucas figured out where the nearest bar was and entered through the front door, not even stopping for the bouncer out front because it was obvious he was old enough to drink and he didn’t want to deal with some prick getting in his way.

“Whiskey.” Lucas stated coldly while he took a seat on a stool, he made sure the bartender heard him so he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. The place seemed pretty packed but strangely quiet, seeing as how the one he just took was the only one available.

“Hey…you’re sitting in my spot.” Said a deep voice.

Lucas turned around and stared the man right in the face, “Hey... you’re sitting in my piss off space.” Clearly he was in no mood to talk to people and just wanted some quiet, and his hangover didn’t make things any better.

The man was gigantic, his muscles rippling under his shirt that hopelessly clung to his skin, putting a hand on the bar, he looked Lucas straight in the eyes, “I don’t think you heard me, jackass. Get. OUT.”

“You have three seconds to get out of my face before I give you a second reason to piss off.” Lucas angrily said while he brought his hand up, leaving three fingers extended. Slowly putting down one at a time.

The big man laughed, his voice booming, “You think I’m going to be afraid of a old shit like yourself? I’m going to skin you alive with a rusty fork, old man…”

“Three...”

“You hearing this, Samuel? This dumbass thinks he can take me.” The man said to another who had gotten up. This second one was a little bigger than the first.

Samuel spoke up, “Old man… you got guts. I’ll give you that. But you started something, so me and George here are going to finish it. Not right here, though. Outside.”

Lucas looked at him for a moment, realizing that fighting in here just gives him an unfair advantage over the one he already had. If he was going to fight, he at least wanted a challenge. “... fine. Outside, assholes.” He stated before he got up and made his way outside. The old man always knew that if an enemy was large and talked tough because of his size, he most likely was stupid.

The two men laughed together and followed Lucas outside. As soon as Lucas had put a foot outside, Samuel kicked him from behind, getting a cheap shot in, “You thought we were going to play fair? You’re going down…”

Lucas fell face-first into the sidewalk, quietly grunting angrily as he wiped a bit of blood from his mouth. He was going to let them off easy. But now he had to kill em’. “Two can play that game.” He said while rolling over. He kicked George in the side of his right knee to put him off balance. While the large man came tumbling down, Lucas moved out of the way by rolling, and as soon as he heard the thump he brought his left elbow down to the back of George’s head. This forced George’s face into the pavement, possibly breaking his nose. If not, his face.

Lucas shot to his feet and got into a simple fighting stance. “When I’m done with you two, not even infected will be able to recognize what you are.” He threatened while pushing the downed George over and onto his back with his foot.

Samuel snarled and flew at Lucas, bringing his right fist to catch the old man at the temple. His eyes were full of rage for what the old man did to his companion.

Lucas bent down and twisted under the fist so his back would collide with Samuel’s stomach, he brought his left elbow up and straight into the face of his attacker. After, he stepped back and twisted the other way to uppercut his dazed opponent in the chin, again with his left arm. He didn’t even realize he was doing this one handed so far.

Samuel slammed back against the wall of the bar, shaking a few bottles from inside enough for them to fall and shatter. He grunted, wiped the blood from his mouth, and glared at Lucas with enough venom to put a black mamba to shame. He pulled out a switchblade, grinning again, “I’m going to carve so many steaks out of you… enough to feed a family…”

Lucas stared back into the face of his opponent and reached down to his right leg. He pulled out his machete from its latch and grinned. He held it low and waited, already sure of what his enemy was going to do.

Samuel’s grin fell and for once, true fear formed in his eyes. He looked down at George, who was sobbing quietly. He looked back up, and pointed the pathetic piece of metal at Lucas. “You won this round… you fight pretty good for an old man. Guess that’s why you’re still alive.”

“Call me old, one more time.” Lucas stated coldly. He was already angered past the point of no return, but that was just the icing on the cake.

Fear came back in his eyes, “P-please… I…we’ll just go, alright? You won…”

“In today’s world... there is no winning, only those who come out alive.” Lucas said while he approached Samuel slowly.

Backing off, he pulled out a hidden revolver and pointed it at Lucas, “You think I’m afraid of you? I’ve had to kill before… I’ll do it again.”

Lucas grabbed the gun with his left hand and stared at his fear stricken enemy. He pushed with his index finger on the cylinder, it popped right out with the bullets still inside. It hit the ground below which caused the bullets to scramble out around the ground. After this he brought the machete up and stabbed the man directly in the underside of his arm, the blade coming out upward on the other side. “The amount I’ve had to kill makes your list look like a speck of dirt.”

Samuel screamed as the blade pierced, slapping Lucas across the face in response. He fell back through the door and back inside of the bar. The other customers looked at him in surprise. Samuel held a hand, “P-please… I have a family. My son’s only eight… I… I’m sorry for making you mad, okay? I don’t want him growing up without a father! Please!”

“He’ll live.” Lucas stated while approaching the fallen Samuel, his own handgun was in his hand and aimed directly at the man’s neck. He fired it there so Sam could feel himself dying while his throat became clogged with blood. He wasn’t proud of what he did, but the old man wasn’t sad either. Just... angry.

All of the customers were caught off guard, but four of them brought out varied guns. The bartender had pulled out a twelve gauge shotgun and pointed it at Lucas, “Get out. Murderer.”

Murderer... that was a word he was all too familiar with. “Fine.” was all Lucas said before walking out of the bar. He’d forgotten all about George, but he didn’t care. The word murderer just played over and over in his head, seeming to become even more true as it played over and over. But he dismissed it in his usual way... “Assholes...”

Three hours later, back with Brett and the ponies

Earlier, they had spotted another town, which was inhabited and barricaded. The way the people moved about and greeted each other gave Brett some piece of mind. At least he didn’t have to worry about bandits here. They had been sticking to the alley ways because if the citizens were to see either of the ponies, there would be a panic. And the last thing they needed was a horde of angry people that probably had guns.

He stopped when he saw, across the street, a dozen people grouped around what looked to be a bar of some sort, “Hey… wait here. I don’t want people freaking out if they see you.”

Applejack nodded, “Yep, we’ll wait right here.”

Brett walked out of the alley way and towards the bar. Whatever they were doing, they seemed upset. One guy was even screaming profanities. This guy was absolutely huge. So the young man walked up to the crowd and asked, “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Some old guy just came in to the bar and killed someone! Shot him right through the neck!” one of the bystanders said. Most of the others agreed.

Another toward the back added to the story, “He also stabbed the poor man in the arm with something!”

Brett tilted his head with curiosity, “Well… why’d he freak out like that?”

The big man walked up to Brett, “I don’t know why he killed my big brother, but I swear… I’ll wring his scrawny little neck… watch his face turn blue as I cut off his windpipe… I’ll kill him… I swear it…”

Brett looked into the bar. The body was still there and being examined by what seemed to be police. But their uniforms were tattered and ruined, but the concept sure stuck. The man’s face was covered in blood, his neck and shirt were soaked in the crimson liquid, “Who would do something like this…?”

Brett looked up in realization of who did it, “No…I knew he had problems, but this?… No…”

The young man shook his head and started to walk out but was stopped by the big man, “Sounded to me that you know who did it.”

Brett had to come up with a quick lie, “I’ve been tracking this old man for quite some time. I’m sorry but I need to go.” He was surprised that the big man had let him go free, at least for the moment.

“If I find that you’re a friend of that piece of shit, I’ll kill you too.” Said the large stranger as Brett left.

Brett got a little dry throat but turned away and walked back to the alley way where Twilight and Applejack were waiting.

“Well…? What happened?” Twilight asked.

Brett shook his head in disappointment, “My brother. My brother happened.”

Twilight frowned at the mention of Lucas. Yesterday, he had been willing to leave them to die. But now? He had killed someone. “I… don’t know what to feel about this.” She shook her head.

Brett knew he had to find lucas. If his brother was on this level of rampage, then the only person that had a chance to stop him was his younger brother. He knew from experience that people tended to get in Lucas’s way a lot. And that never ended well. For both parties. Who knew how long it would be before he finally snapped? He was Brett’s brother, and it was his duty to keep him in line. “Yeah… I know how you feel. We need to find him before he gets really mad and does something he’ll really regret.”

The young man sighed and looked at the surrounding areas. If he knew his drunken brother, then the guy would probably go where no one would think to look. He looked in a couple dumpsters, each time coming up short. He inspected the area, hoping he could find a sign… anything. He tilted his head at something strange. In the adjacent alley way, there laid Lucas’s machete and rucksack against a lone dumpster. He looked both ways, making sure there were no people in the gravel road to see them. Seeing that it was safe, he gestured to the ponies to follow.

He approached the dumpster and rested a hand on it. Bracing for an ugly scene, he opened it up. Inside was Lucas. But his jacket was ripped, and he smelled of liquor and blood. His brother was passed out with a bottle of whiskey in hand, lightly groaning in discomfort.

“Damnit, Lucas…what am I gonna do with you?” Brett asked rhetorically to himself.

Author's Note

Here you go, after my little hiatus from writing me and my friend cranked this out for you all. I hope y'all enjoy it.