Sydney's Rangers

by LoosePartyCannon

Rating: mature
Tags: Romance, Original Character, Equestria Girls, Aria Blaze, Adventure, Sex, Sonata Dusk, Human, Sunset Shimmer, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, Dark, Sad
Length: 44202

Rangers lead the way, doesn't matter if its Earth or Equis it seems.

Failed pusdo-collab between me and a friend, cancelled for the time being.

Its been ten years since the world ended and we're all living off borrowed time now. Nowhere is truly safe, no one can be trusted and nothing is going to change in this irradiated hellhole says most people, but in what's left of the Australian Outback there are men and women who fight for those who can't fight back, explore the Dead Coasts and keep the peace wherever they can. They call themselves Sydney's Rangers, and they may be the only thing keeping the Central Zones in order.

Well god damn, first the Blue Coats show up and now this? Can nothing go right? No map, radio signal or backup...And now I'm stuck in a pastel colored land full of talking horses, giant man bull things and overgrown bugs...I can't tell what's worse: The bloodthirsty slavers or the annoying horses?

Published 2014-04-24 15:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-11-28 08:35:56 UTC

Prologue: A Rangers Duties - Part 1

“Hey, dickhead! Hurry up, we got a water restriction remember?" Jeremy shouted, accompanied by several large bangs on the bathroom door. He was yet again pissed that I was going over our agreed ten minute water usage period. His charming voice tended to carry with a bold edge, although at the moment I was more annoyed than charmed.

"I'm almost done." I simply replied as I washed my dark brown hair out of my eyes. I heard him mumble something unpleasant as he walked down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts. About a minute later I turned the slightly rusted shower handles off and emerged from the grimy shower and toweled myself off. Turning to the mirror, I looked myself over and realized I needed a shave.

My brown hair now reached my shoulders, which meant I was due for a visit to the barbers. At least my fringe stayed away from my eyes and I could still rock the bedhead look. My face was handsome by most peoples standards with a strong jawline, high check bones and usually a five o'clock shadow. Shame the most noticeable thing on my face was the three cut scar running from atop my right eye down to my right cheek. The guys assured me that girls find scars sexy, and sure, it'd worked sometimes, but personally I think the ability to cook is hot, or someone having a sunny disposition...Or, at the very least, good hygiene. Come to think of it what I find sexy would have been the social norm ten years ago. I was built like most people with my type of job, athletic, well built and scarred(mostly around the chest and on my left arm). After a quick shave, I wrapped my towel around my waist and walked out into the hallway.

Our house was pretty good, it had electricity, running and heated water and insulation. Compared to the usual shacks, hovels or run down apartments that most people lived in around here, our two story house was pretty boss. Turning to my left I walked towards the end of the hallway to my bedroom, past the various old world posters, photos of the team and random swear words and quotes we had hung up or drawn onto the faded cream coloured walls.

"Hey, shower's free!" I yelled down the hall as I closed the door behind me.

"About time. I swear if you used up the last of the hot water, I'm gonna kick your ass." I heard him say as I looked around my room. It was arguably the best room in the house and I was proud to say I won it in a match of four-way rock/paper/scissors. Totally worth all the weeks my friends hated me.

The walls were dark blue, and the floor, like the whole house, was hardwood. A queen sized bed with stained blankets took up most of the left side of the room and the right side was occupied by my closet, dresser, mirror and posters. Opening the dresser I pulled out my favorite set of normal clothes. A singlet, light camouflaged bullet proof vest, a black shirt that simply read 'same shirt, different day' in big bold white letters, a blue hoodie with bullet holes, burn marks and tears and to top it off, the zipper didn't work. My 'lucky' hoodie. I then put on a pair of dark camo pants with light kevlar woven into it for protection, knee pads and black steel toe combat boots. And to finish it off; my lucky silver necklace off which hung a gold pendant with an encrusted ruby, and a silver ring. Looking into the mirror, I looked like a twenty-something-year-old trying to look like a depressed, militarized teenager, complete with shoulder length bedhead with a fringe covering my right eye.

Walking over to my closet, I opened it and looked inside. While my dresser was full of clothes and stashed alcohol, my closet was full of guns, supplies, my bandoleer and rifle, my belt and holster and more stashed alcohol. Pulling my brown belt off its rack and buckling it, I looked around the top shelf for my revolver. It didn't take long to find it. A black steel Smith and Wesson Model 686 with a six-inch barrel. On the left side of the barrel I had carved 'Big Iron' into it and on the right twenty etches, you know, to add personality.

After checking to make sure it was loaded, I holstered it and picked up a small box of speed loaders off the closet floor. Opening a small pouch I had added to my belt, I put ten speed loaders inside, giving me fifty-four extra shots. If I was allowed to, I would carry more guns, but the local guard tells me it makes everyone paranoid when I walk down the street with a loaded assault rifle. Now I needed to find my other three friends; Hipster, Weepy and Badge McGoldstein. It didn't take long for me to find my old photo, which I carefully folded and put inside my hoodie's hidden pocket and my badge. Picking it up I decided to wipe off some of the dirt it was smothered by. Looking it over it seemed like your generic sheriff's badge at first glance. A gold ring with the words 'Sydney Ranger Tycho' around the top half and 'Know thy self, know thy enemy. A thousand battles, a thousand victories' on the bottom half. In the center of the ring sat a silver seven point star with the words 'Lest We Forget' carved into it, a constant reminder of both the Old World, and the uncountable amount of people we've lost. The surface of the badge was damaged as more than once a bullet or knife had grazed it. After I felt I should stop staring at my badge like a jackass, I pinned it to my hoodie, over my left man boob.

"Now, where the fuck's Hipster?" I asked no one as I began looking on the floor, the top shelf, in the pockets of my different uniforms and hidden compartments...And then I remembered I put it in the fridge downstairs because warm drinks are pussy stuff. Walking down the hall, past the various rooms and the bathroom and then down the stairs at the end led me into the living room.

The room was pretty plain; some framed photos and medals, a coffee table with empty beer bottles and cans, dirty plates and a map of Australia littered its glass surface and there was a flat screen TV built into the wall currently playing the local news, though someone muted it. Looking down to my right at the old red couches, I saw the guy who probably muted it: Cameron, the local pyromaniac was passed out on the couch.

Cam's usually short orange hair was a mess and his blue eyes where no doubt bloodshot. His face, like his body, was a tad chubby and had a few freckles dotted on his cheeks. He was the shortest guy in the team, about five foot nine tall, but was also the strongest, being surprisingly well built and athletic. People have said before that one of the most attractive things about him was his hair. Turns out not a lot of survivors have bright orange hair, making him a eight out of ten to some people for some reason.

He was still wearing his armor; black camo pants with knee pads and Kevlar armor, black steel toe boots, a heavy bullet proof vest with a black shirt with a fire hazard sign colored red over it and he also wore black fingerless gloves. He wore a black trench coat with red lining along the collar and where the coat parted. His coat, gloves and pants were made of a fire proof material that made handling stuff like flares, grenades, fuel and flamethrowers his problem. Pinned to his coat was his badge, which was similar to mine, but instead of reading 'Sydney Ranger Tycho' his read 'Sydney Ranger Flare' and instead of my quote his read 'Courage is fire, weakness is smoke'. Appropriately, his badge's ring and part of the star was partially stained grey from ash. He had a few burns along his arms from fights that went wrong and a cut along his chin from a bar fight, but the burns should heal in a few months.

He had his belt on which holstered his white .357 Desert Eagle. Along with his gun, he had his belt custom made to include a small pouch for a few magazines, and he also felt the need to carry a couple of flares and hand grenades and a smoke bomb on his belt all the time. You know, in case he gets attacked by a light armored vehicle or a group of assassins. Sticking out of his pants left pocket was his old silver lighter, engraved with his initials, C.W, and a date that only means something to him.

Seeing as I didn't gain anything from waking him up yet, I went into the kitchen through a small doorway and saw the last room mate I lived with; Rohan, the hungover doctor.

"Morning Matt." He mumbled as he downed a bunch of aspirin with a glass of juice and then went back to slouching over a bowl of cereal. His usually cool and calm voice was replaced by a raspy, angry and tired one.

"Oh and what a lovely morning it is, Ro! The sun is up, sharing its blistering heat with everyone in Alice Springs and the cool winter brings its cold winds with it." I yelled delightfully as I grabbed a jug of milk from the fridge, a box of cereal from the cupboard and poured both into the least dirty bowl I could find.

"Please, shut the fuck up..." He mumbled as he rubbed his temples. As he did that I put the milk back in the fridge. Just as I was about to close the door, I grabbed Hipster, my stainless steel hip flask full of whiskey. I'd carved a crude smiley face into one side and 'It's afternoon somewhere' on the other side with my knife. I placed him in my other pants pocket.

Grabbing my bowl, I walked over to the table and sat next to Rohan, and being this close gave me a really detailed look of how shitty he looked hungover.

His black, curly mini afro was more messy than usual, though his hair still went down past his ears and made it impossible to see them. His green eyes were bloodshot red and caked in sleep. He was built like a beanpole, skinny as hell but the tallest guy in our team, close to seven feet tall. He had pale skin, as opposed to everyone else's fair skin, giving him a sort of unhealthy or sick look, ironic as he was the guy who patched us up. He had a strong jaw line and his eyes seemed to sink into his face, casting a shadow over them. He had a bit of muscle and was far from unfit but he was definitely the weakest and slowest guy in the team.

He wore grey cargo pants held up by a white belt with a red cross painted on the front. In his belt holster sat a SIG Pro handgun, spare magazines in a pouch next to the gun, and on the other side of the belt was a small portable first aid kit with bandages, painkillers, antibiotics, a needle and thread and a small bottle of sterilized water. He wore a plain white button-up shirt that was stained with dried blood that wouldn't wash out, mostly his, and a few bullet holes which showed a few ugly bullet wounds in his torso. He also wore a black jacket with red and white stripes on the arms and on the back was a print that had been sown on by a patient he once treated. White cloth-like material with a red Caduceus design and the words 'tell me where it hurts', something he both asked patients lovingly, and people he had just shot in the knee for being a prick or a slaver. He also wore black jogging shoes.

Pinned to his jacket was his badge that read 'Sydney Ranger Patches' and 'There is no medicine, tonic or incentive as great as hope'. It was also splattered with a small amount of dried blood. The last noticeable thing about him was the bloodied white handkerchief that was kept in his shirt's chest pocket.

"Well, whats new?" I asked as I grabbed his cup of juice. I knew for a fact he would barely touch his breakfast and ignore his drink if he was as badly hungover as he looked.

"Not much, Town Watch wants us at HQ around twelve and I have vowed to never touch any form of alcohol for as long as I live." He muttered as I began shoveling cereal into my mouth.

"The hell they want with us?" I asked, annoyed we actually had to do something today.

"I don't know man, best guess is they've either finally fixed Sheila, or the Rangers out in the Great Divide radioed in a new operation." He said as he went back to slowly eating his now soggy cereal.

"Well, seeing as how you’re sad to look at, I'm going to go piss off Cameron." I said as I grabbed my bowl and cup and walked back out into the living room, leaving Rohan behind as he rested his head against the table. Walking up to the couch, I put my stuff down on the table and looked down at Cam.

"Aw, he looks like a hateful little angel. How do I wake him up delicately?" I said, pausing to clear my throat.

"WAKE UP, CANADA IS INVADING!" I screamed, causing Cameron to yelp, fall of the couch, stumble up, reach for his gun, and shoot at the wall missing the TV by a few inches, all while I'm laughing in my new spot on the couch.

"Dude! What the fuck?!” he asked furiously as he tried to calm himself. His angry, cocky and loud voice rang out louder then the gunshot.

"Gah! My ears!" Screamed Rohan from the kitchen.

"Now what?" Jeremy asked from upstairs.

"Sorry, but you were taking up the whole couch and I needed to watch some TV." I apologized as I went back to eating.

"Dude, the next time you do that, I'm shooting you in the foot." He mumbled as he sat down next to me. I heard someone walking down the stairs and turned to see it was Jeremy.

He was the same height as me, roughly six feet or so, but slouched, making him look shorter than he was. He had blonde, messy hair that ended just above his ears but was a bit longer in the front hanging just above his eyes. He had a few pimples and freckles on his face and a small beard but tended to shave it after a few days. His brown eyes looked at me, pissed about the shower. He had high cheekbones and looked younger than he was, giving him a handsome and boyish look. He wore brown cargo pants that had metal shin guards built by him on and black steel toe boots with green shoe laces. He also wore a light kevlar vest underneath his white singlet, which was stained with oil and dirt, a green and black checkered jacket with a large, lightweight steel pauldron strapped on his left shoulder, both dirtied and scratched through various firefights and tours.

His badge was pinned to his jacket and it spelled out 'Sydney Ranger Sundown' and 'Pretend inferiority and encourage his arrogance'. His badge was damaged with a few chips of the gold ring and the top right point of the star missing.

His leather belt held three important things; a Mini Uzi, a blowtorch and his hammer, a spare melee weapon and tool. The only other noteworthy features about him where the scratches and cuts from failed machinery, the jagged and prominent scar in the palm of his left hand and his necklace. It was a silver chain necklace with two miniature dog tags, one black with a silver streak running down the middle with a small glass diamond embedded in its streak and the other silver with an engraved message.

"Thanks to you, I had to use cold water half way through." He mumbled as he walked into the kitchen, grabbed an apple from the fridge and sat down on the other couch to my right.

"Hey, that's what you get for keeping me awake at night with your god damn late night workshop sessions." I responded, citing the lack of precious sleep I received.

"Hey, you weren't complaining when I fixed up a new scope on your rifle, ‘sides, you're the only one bitching about it." He said with a mouth full of apple.

"That's because Cam and Ro sleep like a brick, not everyone is a light sleeper like me. Speaking of, why the fuck were you on the couch?" I asked, shifting the conversation over to Cam as Rohan entered the room, a canteen of water in his hands as he sat down next to Jeremy.
"Got home late. I was going to go upstairs, but I realized I would have to walk upstairs and I was already tired from walking back from the armory across town." He said as he got up and went into the kitchen to grab an energy drink.

"Still, you should try to get home before-oh thanks-before two in the morning. Thought you were a thief or something, almost threw a wrench at you from the garage." Jeremy told Cam as he handed him a can.

"Ah forget about it, lets just watch some cartoons, then go see what they want." I said as I unmuted the TV and flipped through the various channels which were either news, reruns and new shows.

"I'm still amazed society was able to bring back TV, it would have been a boring apocalypse without entertainment." Cameron absentmindedly commented as I continued to scan for a good show. He was right though, if it weren't for a group of scavengers, scientists and engineers no one would neither have all the old shows we used to watch, nor the necessary power or a decent enough studio to film new shit. Thank God for lazy people with too much time. I was planning on switching back to the news until-

"I want to be the very best, like no one ever was~" Sang a voice from the TVs speakers as I started smiling and singing along.

Two hours later
Outside the Local Watch Headquarters
11:50AM

As I and my three friends walked down the cracked pavement I couldn't help but zoning out and look around. First of all, fuck off sun. I know we all need you to live and grow food but I don't need your shit. Living in the only safe patch of land in Australia is awesome, the only problem is its Alice Springs, meaning we're looking to have a day where the weather is under twenty degrees and the dry and arid country made things worse. If you were to tell me that in ten years I would be living in the middle of Australia I would have told you you were full of shit, but here I am, in Australia's second largest city; Fort Alice. Originally just a small camp built around a rural police station way back when, slowly more and more people came and helped build up a group of shacks and walls, turning the shitty little police station into a huge strategic asset for control over all of the Wasteland. The city stood strong at a population of around 50,000 civilians and a local militia of 5,000 men and women AND a small Ranger station, currently being handled by us. The town was built over the ghost town of Alice Springs but was now a major hub for travels towards the Dead Coasts or flights to other countries.

Despite the small size of the original city and the harsh surrounding area, the First Settlers were able to expand the city's edges and rapidly build around the old town. The entire city was surrounded by a big wall of scrap metal acting as our main defense against hordes of infected and slavers. Originally a small metal wall, the local builders had been, over the years, adding more and more layers and metal to the wall, to the point where it was now thirty feet high with a constant patrol around the top. The town was mostly made up of hand built houses and shops around the edge of town and Old World infrastructures scattered around the city. In the centre of the city sat the militia HQ. As we walked towards it, we went out of our way to avoid getting crushed by the likes of the military convoys and supply trucks on the road or beckoned by the homeless and street vendors that littered the sidewalk. Despite the large amount of homeless, Fort Alice was one of the largest and safest New World cities standing. We were now nearing the police base, which once looked like a small place, barely a threat to crime. In its place stood a large, heavily guarded military base. Complete with patrolling guards, a new brick wall, security check point, search lights and guard towers AND a newly built prison. It was truly a fort. Slowing up, we approached the walk-in check point.

"Name and registration." A bored guard said as he read a copy of today's newspaper, not even bothering to look up. His blue pants and shirt, black vest and hat and rank, two rifles crossed, gave away his status as as a militant.

"Sydney's Rangers Flare, Sundown, Patches and Tycho." Cam answered. The guard's head shot straight up looking over our badges and hastily opening the locked wire door by pressing a button.

"Sorry for the hold up, won't happen again!" He half shouted as he was clearly afraid of making a bad impression on us. Walking into the station's courtyard, we could see various recruits running laps around the base, people practicing at the firing range and various noises coming from the machine pool and garage behind the station. As we moved across the courtyard, steering clear of the busy roads, we chose instead to go around the small road that lead up to the stations entrance the looped back around to the car check point.

"So, you guys heard that our little UK representative is going to be checking up on the Ranger stronghold in the Great Divide soon?" Rohan asked, deciding to strike up a conversation as we walked into the foyer of the station, which was alive with people running to and fro, all with different jobs to do.

"Shit, haven't seen her in awhile, think she's gotten nicer?" I asked.

"Doubt it, that bloody ice queen is one hell of a mean bitch, and her dog's an asshole." Cameron muttered.

"Whats pissing you off?" Jeremy asked as he lead the group down the winding hallways, past various guards on duty, officers entering and leaving different rooms and various citizens waiting for their problems to be fixed.

"She just annoys me alright? I feel like she goes out of her way to make my life hell." Cameron replied, getting bothered.

"Dude, Rosie's like, ten years old, eleven in a few months." I reminded him, eyebrow raised.

"Hey, age doesn't make you any more or less of a bitch." He replied, acting like there was some sage wisdom to his words.

"Your just mad that she's a slightly better shot than you." Rohan said, happy with how riled up Cam was getting.

"Hey, my gun was tampered with, I know it was! Anyways, we're here." Cameron said as Jeremy opened the double doors at the end of the hallway into the 'war room', one of the newer additions to the building, the war room was a new room where all the generals, politicians, scientists and Rangers go to when something needs to be talked about. Not much more than a big room filled by a few plants and a long wooden table with a few ornate chairs, it was basically a meeting room. Already seated at the table was Colonel Olivia, leader of Fort Alice's Militia Division.

Olivia was fifty three years old and was in the army before everything went to shit. Her once blonde hair was now snow white, both from stress and age, and was tied back into a bun. Her face was scarred and showed clear signs of aging but she still had a strong and graceful air around her. She wore a plain black officers jacket, with her various medals pinned to it and a pair of black pants and shoes with two Micro Uzis holstered at her hips. She had proven time and time again that she doesn't fuck around in the office or on the field, earning her the respect of many Rangers and the fear of those she commanded. Standing up, she walked towards us with an outstretched arm.

"Colonel, pleasure to see you again." Rohan said with a smile as he shook her hand.

"As it is to see you four again." She replied with a faint smile as she shook all our hands and then went back to sitting down in her chair. She sat at the head of the table, Cameron and I sat to her right and Rohan and Jeremy sat at her left.

"I'll skip the formalities and get right to it. The Rangers messaged us, telling us something that we found very worrying; during a patrol through the Badlands a group of scouts spotted a large number of Rebels located in the ruins of Canberra. We believe they are American." She said grimly.

"Shit, how did the Blue Coats get so close to us without us noticing?" I asked, shocked.

"We have no idea, but the assumed answers are either they know something we don't know, or someone's working with them, falsifying our reports. Both are equally worrying." She continued.

"Spies?" Rohan asked seriously.

"We don't know Patches, but what we do know is this; the Rangers are planning a massive attack on their holdout near the outskirts of Canberra. The Rangers are asking for any and all Rangers not already in the field to lend their support and assist, that means you four." She said as she revealed four different pieces of paper. They were detailed maps of their camp, no doubt sketched by a scout, along with photos of the surrounding area and a detailed list accounting any and all rogue elements like terrain conditions...Overgrown nature, better bring my ghillie suit. The nearest horde and the next expected Anomaly to happen. The operation was to go down in a week from today.

"Ma'am, how soon can we hit the road?" Jeremy asked, anxious to finally do something.

"How soon can you get to the garage?" She smirked.

"Sheila's ready?" I asked, hopeful our car was finally fixed.

"Correct. You'll find your orders and any information you may need in those papers, boys. Dismissed." She said as we quickly got up and raced out the door and down the hallways, leaving Olivia behind to collect her thoughts.

Militia Motor pool/Garage
12:05AM

As we walked into the garage, my ear drums were assaulted by the sounds of machinery cutting into pieces of scrap that would soon either be used on a new building or added to the Wall, new cars and tanks being upgraded or built and the sounds of engineers swearing at each other. As we walked past the rows of various parked vehicles in the large, white garage. And then, we saw her, Sheila, in all her beauty.

Sheila was an armored Humvee with a roof mounted thirty-calibre heavy machine gun built into a large stand that swiveled around a roof hatch giving the gunner 360 degree aiming and a large metal shield offering mild protection. The Humvee itself had bullet proof glass, reinforced metal armor, a cow catcher on the front grille which also protected the large headlights, two large floodlights on the roof and also a large boot in the back for extra supplies. The Humvee was also painted with desert camo, making it blend in with the outbacks harsh terrain. And the last feature was the crude Ranger symbol we spray painted onto the drivers side door. Sheila is the most fucking awesome car in the world, fuck you if you say otherwise.

“Oh, there you guys are!" An engineer yelled as he spotted us. He wore plain blue overalls and his voice was muffled by his welding mask.

"Now, after the stunt you pulled, we decided it would be smart to reinforce your cars framework so we won't have another 'incident', like last time." The guy said as he eyeballed Cameron.

"Hey, I still say driving head first into those slavers base was a good idea." He said defensively.

"Yea, and we almost got killed." Rohan said, still not over the whole thing.

"But we didn't, so we can all laugh about this in a few years." He rebutted, smiling smugly.

"Anyway, the glass is thicker than before, so a light machine gun won't do shit against it now, nor will light explosives like a firecracker or a flash-bang. Though anything heavier and you may be in trouble." He said as he pointed out the new improvements.

"The cow catcher was installed per request and should be able to let you drive through a group of infected without any problems, though try not to piss off any hordes. And lastly, the gun. We kicked it up to a higher calibre so the gun is also bigger, which as you know means it's also heavier putting a bit more of a strain on the cars weight. We put six extra box mags for the gun in a box in the boot." He said as he opened the boot to show us.

"How much will this cost us?" I asked.

"Normally the bill would be staggeringly high due to the complete overhaul we had to go through just fixing it. But seeing as how I and my crew personally owe you for what you and the other Rangers did at Hobart, this one's on the house. Just this one, don't expect anymore favors." The guy said, irritated and thankful at the same time.

"Sweet, Rohan, you’re driving." Jeremy said as he climbed into the back with Cam, leaving me to sit up front. Clambering in, we saw the car's interior was also improved. Leather seats, stronger seat belts, a bobble head of Tony Abbott glued to the dashboard, a new stereo that can hook up to our phones, and bigger cup holders for both the front and back. As Rohan slowly pulled out of the garage, avoiding any and all workers and their wrecks, we soon found ourselves driving around to the front of the police station and then back out the security checkpoint. After we got back on the road we had two goals in mind: get home and hit the road.

Home
12:15 AM

"Remember! Take only what you need!" Rohan shouted from his room down the hall as everyone went about gathering their belongings. In my room I was finalizing my list as I stuffed everything into my black hunting backpack.

"OK, extra food and water, check. Two boxes of ammunition for both guns, check. A box of matches, check. A flashlight, check. Emergency flares, check. A compass and map, check. Box of blunts in case I get bored, check. Chocolate for the ride, check. My lucky hoodie folded and cleaned, check, Roll-on camouflage paint, check. Ghillie suit, check." I listed everything as I looked over all the stuff I had packed into the different pouches, and the folded woodland ghillie suit next to my bag.

As I checked over my stuff, I couldn't help but feel I was missing something...Something important. And that's when it hit me. I grabbed my stuffed Jack Skeleton plushie and shoved it in the bag. Then I went to my drawers and moved the secret panel out from behind the top shelves back and pulled out my three old friends: red wine, bourbon and absinthe. The wine I had found when we had raided an old, ransacked mansion. Whoever the owner was, they where good at hiding treasures, the bottle was over a hundred years old. Some bartender appraised it to be worth thousands, so naturally I was saving it for a rainy day. Or a really good day. The bourbon was well aged, smooth and its shade of copper was beautiful. I had no idea what it was called as its label was ripped off, but after a small sip I learnt it wasn't poisoned, it wasn't drugged and it tasted amazing, so I kept it for a celebration or something important, though I never found the best time to use it. The absinthe was a gift from a now retired Ranger who owed me, told me it was the only bottle he had ever found while scavenging, making it rare and expensive...Or he was a shit Ranger who knew nothing about the fine art of drinking. It was alright in taste and it burned like hell but REALLY fucked you up. Plus its green glowing color looked awesome. I was gonna sell it, but I kept it around in case someone had a taste for the stuff. They were all pretty small bottles, only a bit bigger then my hip flask and a bit of a burden, but I felt like this mission was going to play out differently, so in case I was going to die, I wanted to die surrounded by my friends and piss drunk.

"You ready?" Jeremy asked from his room.

"Almost." I replied as I tucked my bottles away, put the bag on and looked at myself in the mirror.

I had removed my hoodie and put on a bullet proof vest over my shirt, along with a long sleeved under shirt and then put on my torn, dark green and brown cloak over my vest, which ended just above the back of my legs and had a hood woven on. It helped keep me dry on a rainy day and also kept me warm. As I looked at myself in the closet mirror, I saw I looked well-armoured, but under armed.

Reaching into the closet, I hoisted out my black bandoleer and my rifle; an Mk.14 enhanced battle rifle. The rifle was immaculate, as I kept it as clean as possible, though the gun was scratched in places. The gun had a black silencer placed over the end of the guns barrel and a long range adjustable scope that could magnify up to fifteen times. It had an adjustable stock and a tripod placed under the gun, near where the barrel began. The gun used extended magazines which carried twenty bullets instead of the usual ten. I loved that gun, it'd been just like a gun to me.

Placing the bandoleer on over my armor and putting the rifle on my back, I then proceeded to put five spare rifle magazines in the bandoleer's pouches. Next I grabbed my hunting knife and placed its sheath on my belt, keeping it on tightly.

The last thing I needed was my mask. Looking up to where it usually hung, I pulled it off its hook and inspected it for damage. It was a black gas mask with a cloth design resting over the plastic parts which also didn't cover the eye holes.It was a black cloth with a white skull painted on, using the masks eye holes as its eyes. It covered the mask's filter, offering mild protection against natural elements. Putting it on and leaving it around my neck, I hooked my bag on, picked my ghillie suit up and walked outside to see my team was likewise ready.

Jeremy was leaning against his door, his eyes closed. He was wearing the same stuff as before, but now he had his welding mask resting on top of his head. All though he carried around a small gas mask like everyone else, he thought it would be much more safer for him to use a welder's mask. His armor plates had been recently cleaned and polished given them a dull sheen. He had his backpack on but three things stood out. On his hip sat both his red tool box, full of bits and pieces of machinery he could work into something, and tools obviously. The other thing that stood out was his old red wrench; Its main function had stopped being repairs a long time ago.

The last thing that stood out was along with his bag, he had a black suitcase so big he had to wheel it around. I had no idea what was in it. On his back sat a semi-automatic shotgun, an M1014 to be specific. He had painted it orange and yellow stripes on both sides of the gun, running length ways and on the guns stock he had painted the outline of a sun with four large rays swerving out from the center in all four directions and smaller ones in the diagonal directions. The gun used iron sights and he had a bolt key chain on his gun. He also had a choke installed at the end of the barrel. He had a leather strap on the gun, keeping it on his back at all times.

On the other side of the hallway, Cameron was staring down and idly playing with his lighter, repeatedly flipping the cap on and off. He now wore a black cowboy hat which hid most of his face from view with his head down, like it was now. His gas mask rested down as well. Strapped to his belt was a second pistol, his solid red flare gun: Big Red. Big Red had four flare rounds also packed next to it and on his back rested his machete. The handle was burnt black and the blade was sharpened and cleaned from time to time to keep it from getting dull.

At his his feet laid three guns that never failed to scare me: His flamethrower, rocket launcher and grenade launcher. All of them were supplied by Ranger HQ after he insisted his grenades and flare guns just weren't cutting it. They told him to only bring one on a mission, but he didn't really give a damn. The flamethrower was one of the old backpack and handle guns but carried enough fuel to burn down half a town. He painted the whole thing black and the tank red.

The rocket launcher was brand new, barely used when the Rangers found it. Its missiles weren't laser guided, which pissed Cam off, but the thing was accurate enough already. The launcher was heavy and needed to be supported on his shoulder, only taking it off to reload it if someone else wouldn't.

And to top it off, an old M79 grenade launcher. He asked for an Mk.19 grenade launcher but we told him there was no way in hell we would let him get his hands on an automatic grenade launcher if it wasn’t going on the car, so he settled on his next best friend. The wood was dark red and he'd carved 'bombs away!' on the launcher's barre. Seeing Cam with those things was almost enough to make me shit my pants.

Emerging from his room, looking off into the distance, was Rohan. He now had his helmet on, an old army helmet painted black with the red cross on each side, and his gas mask down. Over his white tee shirt now sat a grey bullet proof vest. In his hands, a large duffle bag, no doubt full of medicinal supplies in case the camp we would soon be heading to was under supplied.

Hanging off his back like Jeremy's shotgun, was his AK-47. After painting the guns wooden stock red he had a red dot sight placed on the left side of the gun, a bayonet at the end of the barrel and switched to extended magazines. At his hip rested his melee weapon of choice, an iron crowbar. He saw it as both practical and lethal and loved the thing.

"Well, we all ready?" Rohan asked as he snapped back to reality.

"Yep." I said simply as I walked down the hallway.

"Lets go, The early bird gathers no moss! The rolling stone catches the worm!" Cam said energetically.

"Wonder if there will be any good salvage when this is all over." Jeremy said as he walked behind Cam.

Slowly, we made our way downstairs and out the door, Jeremy locking the front door behind him and then throwing the copper house keys over to Rohan. As we walked away from our two-story orange brick house, I couldn't help but admire it. Half the windows were boarded up, the old black roof had a few holes in it and the front door's window was busted, but I still loved it. As I turned around and walked across the dry grass in our front yard towards Sheila, who was parked on the street, I couldn't help but wonder how this mission was going to play out. Walking around to the back, I placed my pack into the boot along with my ghillie suit, as everyone else placed their extra weapons, gear and supplies.

"You're driving." Rohan said as he threw the car keys over the car after at me. I unlocked the car door remotely and everyone climbed in. Ro, Jeremy and I placed our guns on the floor. As I turned on the engine and strapped in, I was silently hoping nothing would go horribly wrong. I should have known, as I drove down the cracked streets of Old Alice Springs, that everything was bound to wrong sooner or later.

Author's Note

Hey, I would like to that my good friend Pipebomb for helping me come up with ideas and dealing with my shit on a daily basis. This was actually my second story idea and I've been workshoping it for a long time. I hope its finally likable.

In case you where wondering, their backpacks look like this: http://cdni.llbean.com/is/image/wim/250660_34710_41?wid=428&hei=494

Prologue: A Rangers Duties - Part 2

Author's Note

Edited some small shit

Prologue: A Rangers Duties - Part 2

1 Day Later
The A2 Highway, Campgrounds, Queensland, North East of Fort Alice.

"Dude, get up." Rohan mumbled sleepily to me, shaking me awake.

"Huh, what?" I asked, confused and sleepy.

"It's morning man, surprised you slept the whole night through." He said as I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Rohan was standing in the open doorway, metal can of coffee in one hand and the other on my shoulder. Looking to my left out the passenger side window I saw Cameron was outside starting a fire in the middle of a clearing and Jeremy was keeping a lookout further off. The early morning light pierced the trees giving the area a warm, natural look. I had driven all afternoon and late into the night. As it was dangerous to travel the countryside by night so we decided to sleep in the car and have someone on turret lookout in rotation with me taking a nap. Yawning loudly, Ro moved away from the car door letting me out. As I stretched the tired joints in my shoulders and back I decided to do a 360 of the area, slowly spinning to take it all in. The landscape was beautiful to say the least. Before everything went to shit this used to be a popular camping site, the torn tents and scrapped SUVs scattered around the area both a testament to this fact and a sign that some poor fuckers thought going native was a good idea. closing the door behind me, I walked around the car to the clearing, but was stopped when I noticed something different about the car.

"When the fuck did this happen?" I asked as I turned back to Ro, who was now standing next to Cam who was grinning at the small fire he had lit.

"Huh? Oh yeah Jeremy did that." Cameron said quickly before going back to his fire, his eyes looked baggy, he must have had last shift.

"Oi! The fuck?!" I shouted at Jeremy.

"What? Don't like it?" He shouted back, not looking away from the trees lining the clearing.

"It's cool and all, but why and where did you get the supplies for this?" I asked as I turned around to look at the new symbol spray painted onto the passenger side door. A large white Kookaburra had been painted on the side. It was mostly white with light brown eyes and wings and had cream colors around the wings and brown parts which acted to highlight it. The bird was both mid flight and laugh with its wings stretched out and its large bill open wide. Under the bird was written in white paint 'Sierra Team, Smile on our faces and a bullet in yours' on a painted, and torn, red banner.

"Well, remember those militants we saved about a week ago?" He asked.

"Yeah, dickhead and the overly cocky chick, what about them?" I asked as I ran a quick finger over the banner. The paint was already dry.

"Turns out she used to be a graffiti artists, I asked her to make up some stencils and if I could borrow some paint cans. Thought it would be cool to add something new to Sheila." He said as he kept his eyes on the trees.

"Well it definitely adds some 'flare' to Sheila. What's in the pot?" I asked as I sat down next to Cameron who was now placing a metal pot over the fire.

"One, fuck you for that pun. Two, its soup. Chicken and corn." He answered sounding a bit annoyed.

"Holy shit, I didn't even know chicken was back on the list of rationale food. The farmers finally got enough chickens or did they trade some moonshine for it with those Chinese traders?" I asked hungrily.

"Yeah, the farmers chickens finally bred and now their back on the list, but only for the militants and us. Still not enough to go around but at least we got enough beef and veal for Fort Alice to not turn vegan." He said as he opened the pot and poured some milk in. I looked to my right and saw Ro walked away from the cars boot and sat down next to me.

"Hey dude, want some coffee? I packed a few cans of the powdered stuff, taste horrid but better than nothing." He asked as he handed me a metal can with the top off.

"Thanks. Hey Cam, pass the water." I said as I nudged him. He silently past over his canteen. I poured some water into the can and looked around for a stick. It didn't take long to find a stick with two long branches in a Y shape. After sticking the can in there I waited it out till my can heated up and breakfast was ready.

10 Minutes Later

"God, you weren't lying this stuff sucks." I said as I took a sip from my can. It was bitter, but not in the good way. While a normal cup of coffee can be improved with one to three spoonfuls of sugar, this stuff tastes like the beans are punching my tastes buds with their strong flavor.

"Yeap, not great. At least it wakes you up." Rohan said as he went back to his soup.

"Why are you drinking it if its so bad?" Cameron asked as he went for his second helping, already done with his serving.

"If I don't wake up now then I'm going to be half awake for about half an hour." I said as I forced myself to take another sip and then went back to drinking from the small plastic bowl in my lap. Cameron, Rohan and I were currently seated around a small campfire with three bowls all sat in our laps. Jeremy had downed his soup and coffee and moved inside Sheila and was currently standing up through the cars roof hatch, manning the turret and keeping an eye on the cars shortwave radio.

"So, what do you think the Blue Coats are planning?" I asked everyone.

"Well, if they were going to pull another Hobart on us we would have seen their forces from a mile away, especially if their moving inland. Maybe they're looking for something?" Rohan suggested as he put his coffee can down.

"Yeah, from what the reports suggest their not heavily numbered so it can't be an invasion force. No tanks, APCs, AA turrets, planes, helis or even a goddamn jeep. And Canberra's dead. No power, clean water, healthy food and enough radiation and infected that im surprised we haven't seen a Glowing One. Somethings up." Cameron muttered suspiciously.

"My moneys on their looking for some big government secret. We all know the world went to shit because various agencies and governments all had skeletons in their closets and when one got out they tried covering it up. Maybe Abbot had some uranium in his desk or some kind of super weapon?" I added, curious about what we would find.

"Heh, Tony was gonna drop a nuke on the boat people. Shame America beat him to the punch." Cameron added with a bit of humor.

"Guys! The radio!" Jeremy shouted. In a second we were up. Cameron put out the fire and ran to the passenger side door, I picked up the pot from the fire and put it in the boot along with our cups and bowls and closed it then hopped in the back and Rohan got into the drivers seat.

"Help! Raiders ambushed u- Ucking bastards killed my driver and my men are injur-. We're just near the Queensland/NT border on the A2! Pl- End He-." The radio stuttered. In between the static and shouting gunfire could be heard loud and clear. Soon the faint claps of gunfire could be heard way off in the distance as it broke the calm of the early morning.

"This is Sierra Team, Border Patrol come in, I repeat this is Sierra Team, over" Rohan said calmly into the radios microphone.

"Sierra Team this is the NT Border Patrol, what is the emergency Rangers?" A calm female voice said over the radio.

"We're reporting a Raider attack in progress a few miles down the A2. We're moving in to engage. Requesting a medical team and a small squad of militants for backup and medical assistance. Over."

"Your request is being approved of, there will be a medical team on the scene in under the hour, over." The voice replied.

"Understood, Sierra Team is moving in, over." Rohan said as he turned on the car and put the microphone down into its clip on top of the small radio sticking out of the dash under the radio. Soon we were barreling down the countryside heading towards the gunfire.

"Hey check it! Our phones are still in the glove box, and you said they were broken." Cam said to me as he fished out our phones. He handed my phone, earphones and all, to me. Its protective orange and black casing cracked from cams fuck up.

"I never said they were broken I said they were probably broken and that Rohan should check. Why the fuck didn't you?" I asked as I looked at Rohan.

"To spite you. Hey Cam, put something good on the radio." Rohan said as cam plugged a cord into the bottom of his phone and started playing a very familiar song. After a few minutes of driving we turned onto a long stretch of road and could see the ambush in the distance. In the distance a large black truck was under fire from what looked like armored Utes. I looked out the left window and saw a hill that went higher than the treeline with a cliff face in the direction of the fight.

"Hey, stop for a sec I think I see a good vantage point. Remember, If I throw up a red flare i'm in trouble." I said as the car slowed down. Jumping out I ran to the boot, opened it up and pulled out my rifle and bandoleer. Shutting the boot I banged the cars side to let them know its safe to drive off. As I made my way through the trees at a brisk pace I started humming to myself.

Two Minutes Later
Aaron

"We are SO fucked!" I shouted to myself. My driver was dead, the raiders outnumbered us, half of my hired guns were injured or scared and I was running low on bullets for my M9. Looking over the side of my truck I saw they were setting up a light machine gun on the roof of one of their cars. I guess if they can't kill us they'll just blow up the car. Before I had to duck back behind the car before they shot my head off I got a good look at the fuckers. They drove around in old SUVs, Jeeps and Utes, All off roaders, that they had either painted red with peoples blood or strapped a bunch of bones to it, animal and human. They had three Utes, the ones on the left and right just had two guys with assault rifles shooting at us but the one in the middle had a tripod mounted machine gun currently chipping away at my truck and its supplies. As I rested behind the sturdy machine I heard a pop and felt the truck sink a bit, the tires where shot out. Great...The trees and bushes are so thick we would barely make it into the trees before we get gunned down, we can't drive away and were running low on ammo. fuck, what the hell do I do?! As I continued to brainstorm I heard the sound of someone scraping a blade against metal and a manic laugh. Turning around I saw a raider had ran right past my guards, who were paralyzed with fear.

This man was hardly human. He wore simple leather armor that covered most of his chest and legs but his armor was torn and stained red from the countless victims he had claimed. His face was obscured by the broken mask he wore, whatever it used to be was now a stained red mask with cracked holes for eyes and straps connected at the back of the head. His eyes pierced into my soul as he stared at me, his cold look promised only intense pain. His head was shaved bald and his skin was cut open in various areas, spilling blood onto his torn and diseased looking skin. In his hands where two sharp kitchen knives, the blade was dirty and cracked but the man wielding it no doubt thought the knife would do the trick. He wore no shoes and his stained brown feet looked cut up and infected by all the rocks and other sharp things like broken glass. He looked like a broken man and he was no doubt one of the many crazies Raiders throw at their enemies. As he lunged forward at me, knifes ready and laughter ringing out across the open road, I realized I had no time to raise my gun. Closing my eyes I awaited my death...Only to hear the insane laughter replaced by a loud gun shot, a thud and silence. Opening my eyes I saw that the now dead raider lied in a pile at my feet, and his head was cracked open like a watermelon, spilling grey matter and viscera all over both myself my my truck. Hearing a low rumble I look to my left and saw something that inspired hope; an armored Humvee.

Matt

"Man I love my job." I said as I looked at my kill. Splattered the pricks brains all over the side of the black truck. It was at that moment Rohan decided to drive onto the scene. Everything was quiet until I saw Jeremy open the roof hatch and shout.

"Drop your guns and stand down! We will not harm you(speak for yourself) if you surrender and don't attempt to resist arrest. Any attempts to escape or fight back will result in a lethal response. This is your only warning!" He shouted loud. The Raiders laughed in response. I saw the raider on the light machine ready his gun so I looked down the scope, aimed for the head, breathed in half a breath, steadied the gun and-

"Boom." I muttered as a bullet tore straight through the eye socket of the ugly bastard and out the back, spraying fresh blood and bone chunks all over the back of the Ute. The dead body fell forward onto the gun, bumping the trigger and making it fire down at the hood of the car. It didn't take long for the cars engine to blow which killed two of the bastards who were using the cars doors as cover. As I looked over the scene of fiery carnage I saw there were only six of the bastards left; two where hid behind the broken cars to the left, two behind the right car and two who were running straight for the truck. The road was littered along the sides with old and destroyed cars from when people were trying to evacuate all the cities and escape further inland, aldo some made it a large amount of people died on the way leaving husks of cars littering the highways and roads. Aldo they were a minor inconvenience as our car was made so it could move them out of the way with our cowcatcher, a couriers truck would often have to slow down to avoid ramming them and swerve around them, making them easy to ambush and provide excellent cover for any would be ambushers. These raiders weren't anything special and I could see the guys were in control of the situation, but if these raiders are familiar with the area that could be a problem. I decided to switch focus between all the different raiders and lay down suppressive fire as I switched the gun to burst fire and began singing to myself.

"Oh there ain't no rest for the wicked, money don't grow on trees..."

Jeremy

"They never surrender do they?" I questioned out loud as I ducked inside Sheila to avoid the machinegun fire. After I saw the gunman get his left eye blown out by Matt and the car blowing up. Man, raiders really need safer cars its just too easy to blow up their stuff, what the hell do they put in their cars? C4? Anyway, After that happened I put my welding mask on and lowered it. The others had their helmets already on but as mine was mostly metal with a leather strap It wasn't something overly hard to put on and off. Standing up I grabbed hold of the mounted machine guns handles and looked down the iron sights. Two raiders ran around the truck and were rushing straight at me with a hand grenade in each hand. Great, suicide soldiers, there always a pain to clean off the car if they get to close. Their so inconsiderate. They wore next to nothing, only wearing pants, boots and some loose metal they wore as armor and a few bandoleers. They weren't smart and just rushed you. Thankfully their easy to kill. Aiming for the one on the left I leveled the gun and aimed for his head. Pulling the trigger for a second let loose a volley of about ten bullets. The bullets tore through the guys head and left arm at the shoulder and elbow, which burst like a watermelon and painted his friend in his blood. Instead of shooting the other guy through the head I aimed for his legs. After I pulled the trigger his legs seemed to disappear as red paste and gore replaced them. Falling to the ground, the raider didn't scream for long before his and his friends grenades exploded. The area around them was bathed in blood, destroyed bone and viscera and torn metal. Didn't even get ten feet towards the car. Looking around I saw Cam sneaking around the side of the road and Ro was heading towards the survivors of the attack, who were hiding behind a group of ruined cars near the truck. Looking around I saw what Cameron was planning. A group of raiders where planning to jump Ro and the traders so Cam was going to probably sneak up on them and finish them off. Matt was still laying down fire on the two dicks over on the right who where trying to get close to the car, but they weren't going anywhere and I can't hit them from here so I decided to just shot at the guys on my left. Needless to say, a constant stream of 30.cal kept them locked down.

Rohan

"Who here is in charge?" I questioned as I got near the group. They were fucked, plain and simple. The mercs were a joke, their armor being poor made, their guns matched in quality and their fortitude was shit. They were weeping and crapping their collective pants in fear. Clearly their anything but mercs or survivors. Probably some bar owner's or shop keep's sons. If the truck was anything to go by then the courier was at least aware of what he was getting into, armor and spare tires, so I guess he thought he could skim on the hired guns.

"I em, Courier Aaron, independent. Thank fuck you guys showed up. Who are you? NT Border?" One of them asked. Aaron looked terrible. His flannel shirt was torn open showing bad flesh wounds, his jeans were cut open around the knees showing someone had taken a knife to him and his legs and his gun was out of ammo if his handguns open slide was anything to go by and he looked like he was about to faint. His blonde hair was stained by blood and his blue eyes looked tired. He looked like he was about to drop dead.

"No. We're Sydney's Rangers. What happened?" I asked as I pulled my first aid kit off my belt and approached him. He, along with a few of the mercs, seemed shocked and then relieved.

"Well shit, didn't think a Ranger would be saving my sorry ass. Me and these guys were driving down the highway like any other day until we came across a large group of wrecked cars. It wasn't impossible to get through, just difficult. As we made our way through I was suspicious, something wasn't right you know? About halfway through I hear engines start up and these guys come barreling out of the treeline. I tell my driver to gun it and the mercs in the back of the truck to start shooting. We made it about ten minutes down the road before someone shots my driver. It was tough stopping a truck while getting shot at. I got behind the truck and hoped these boys were ready. Buts that just what they are, boys. Sorry bastards were too shocked to even react, the damn fools. Clearly never been outside a city. Anyways, I was on my last leg till you troops showed up." He said, bitter about the whole thing. While he was talking I was quickly cleaning off his wounds and doing what I could. I saw something to my left but then quickly disregarded it as I heard a shot, some shouting and a slicing noise.

looking to my right I saw two raiders running towards me, one with a Spaz 12 in his hands and the other a fireman's ax. Rising from the ground I reached for my pistol and aimed at the ax wielding man hands and the shotgun guys chest. Aim, breath, steady and boom. the first guy was now missing a few digits and the other guy was in enough pain to drop his gun. running up to the first guy I grabbed the axes handle before he dropped it. He didn't have time to scream as I stepped back and swung it into the raiders abdomen, right into the smaller intestines, and pulled out bring a few pieces of organ with me. His friend was horrified, watching his partner crumple to the ground into a pool of his blood and organs as they fell out of his torso. I ran up to him as he slowly tried to grab his gun, pistol whipped him in between the eyes, which knocked him back, then kicked away his gun and reached for my crowbar.As he stumbled back onto his feet I swung hard right into his jaw, I heard it break with a satisfying crack as I saw blood and teeth fly out off his mouth. I readied another swing and hit him right in the balls. I watched him fall over again, grabbing both his cracked jaw and broken dick. Kicking him in the side he rolled over so I could stand over him. Raising my weapon over my head I slammed it down onto the man's forehead repeatedly until I could see brain. By the time I was done his jaw was dislocated and visible through torn flesh, his left eye was burst and his forehead was caved in. After quickly wiping off my crowbar on the mans pants I went back Aaron who was looking at me, both horrified and in awe.

"Now, why don't you tell me where it hurts most?" I asked with a genuine smile. As I went back to work on my patient, I wondered what happened to the guys on my left.

Cameron

"Think we can take them?" I heard one of them asked, his voice raspy and annoying.

"Not with this fucking prick shooting at us! Who the fuck are these guys?!" The other guy asked.

"Did you see the badge on the guy on the turret? It looked like a Ranger's badge." The first guy said, clearly worried.

"Fuck. We picked a bad day for highway robbery. I was hoping for a few good kills, a few good meals, a box of ammo and some bitch to take back to camp. Man fuck today." Second said, pissed. After getting close enough, being right next to them hidden behind the next car over, I unpinned my badge, raised it over the car and waved it towards Jeremy. After I re-pinned my badge I heard Jeremy stop shooting.

"Hey, he stopped. Think hes reloading?" First asked.

"Na, hes just letting me do my thing." I said nonchalantly as I un-holstered my magnum and shot Second right in his heart, killing him quickly. First jumped up and tried to grab me. With my freehand I grabbed his right fist, twisted it and broke his arm, and threw him into a tree. As he shouted in pain and slowly got up I got my machete out of its sheath and approached him. As he was getting up I swung my machete and hacked right into his left leg, the blade only stopping once it had dug into his bone. I quickly yanked the blade out and letting his blood spray onto the trees and grass around us. As he clutched his leg he fell to the ground. Raising my weapon I swung hard and true right onto the guys neck, separating it from his body. I silently cleaned off my blade and picked up the guys head. He had some brown hair, enough to grab a hold of.

"Hey man, I wish I could say I'm sorry, but you head it coming." I said with a chuckle as I threw his head further into the trees.

"Oh fuck, Matts puns are starting to rub off on me." I said with mild annoyance as I walked back onto the highway. Looking around I saw we had done a fine job of fucking these punks up. Matt's kills were smeared all over the truck and burnt to a crisp, Jeremy's kills now stained the concrete roads, mine are lying in the grass with one being headless and I'm not going to even talk about what Rohan did.

"Hey Patches, you good? I don't need to calm you down do I?" Jeremy asked as he got off the Humvee and approached Rohan. Rohan was currently inspecting some guys wounds. Looking around I thought I saw movement along the treeline. Turning to face the trees I saw Matt walk out of the foliage.

"Damn, you got here fast." I said, surprised he somehow made it down a small cliff and through thick bushes and trees without anyone noticing.

"Years of practice Flare, keeping trying and maybe one day you can run for more than five minutes without getting tired." He replied snarkily as he hooked his rifle to his bandoleer and unhooked his hip flask from his belt. As he and I walked back to the others I could hear the sound of approaching cars.

"Huh, they got here quickly. Maybe the Border Patrol is finally getting their shit together." Matt said as he went back to drinking whatever possibly lethal drink was in his flask. When we got to them Rohan had almost finished patching up some dude and Jeremy was salvaging any and all tech from the dead raiders.

"Man, they got nothing. Fucking assholes, can't even spare a few shells." Jeremy muttered.

"Why the hell do you care about loose shells? We got boxes of those things back in the Humvee." Rohan replied.

"It all adds up...Holy fuck man you really went to town on these guys Patches." Jeremy said as he got up and looked around.

"Why the fuck do you care, they had it coming. Now then, take some of these if you feel the pain start to come back." Patches said as his tone of voice shifted from malice filled to caring. As Rohan got up we heard a group of doors open and shut behind us. Turning around we saw a brown jeep and an ambulance and a group of soldiers and paramedics. Both of the cars were heavily armored and had the initials N.T.B.P painted onto the doors in black paint. The soldiers wore heavy bullet proof vests that would have been used by riot police in the past. Their heads were covered by a black riot helmet and in their hands where various guns ranging from an M4 Carbine to a Akdal MKA 1919, all Courtesy of a few Turkish traders and American gunsmiths. Their legs where protected by light bullet proof pads around their legs and thighs while also protecting their navy blue pants. The Northern Territory Border Patrol, after being confused for other Patrols, had decided to paint all the N.T soldiers vests and helmets with a black, white and red that ran down their sleeves, chests and sides of their helmets and proudly wore Sturt Desert Roses. Despite the pale pink flowers giving them a girly look, they wore them with pride. The paramedics where similar colored aldo they wore fake flowers to avoid allergic reactions and wore lighter armor and helmets.

As I walked over to Rohan I could see one of the soldiers walking toward us. If his Captain insignia painted onto his shoulder and his walk was anything to go by he was probably the commanding officer here.

"Captain Robert Reagle. Who's in charge here?" The man asked. He had a deep, gruff voice but sounded calm. Me, Rohan and Jeremy just kinda looked at each other before Rohan finally spoke up.

"I guess I em? We don't really have a CO. Ranger Patches, and you are?." Rohan said, slightly unsure.

"Huh, the infamous Sierra Team. Patrolman Robert, now what happened here?" Robert said as he raised his visor which obscured his face. He had black hair and a scruffy beard and had a few scars on his cheeks. If his accent was anything to go by, he was a fucking American...

Rohan

"Raiders ambushed an independent caravan and killed their driver, leaving them stranded. We dealt with the threat." I answered truthfully.

"Yes, I know we were informed before we left, what I want to know is how did it end like this?" He replied slightly annoyed. As he was talking to me a group of paramedics went about assisting any of the injured men and helping the shocked ones up/.

"What do you mean?" I asked, unsure what he meant.

"Injured guardsmen, dead civs and mutilated bodies, both raider and non. You were meant to apprehend the criminals, not kill them, and you were meant to keep the civs safe." He replied as he inspected the area.

"Hey, maybe if you guys hadn't dragged your fucking feet getting here you could have helped you fucking Turncoat cunt!" Cameron said, rage in his voice as he pushed the officer back.

"Flare, calm down!" I shouted as I put an arm over his chest to hold him back. The officer seemed shaken but went back to being calm surprisingly quickly.

"We arrived as quickly as we could and demanded their surrender but they refused and we were forced to open fire." Rohan continued.

"Thats all fine, but what the fuck happened to those raiders? They look like they got into a fight with a Tormentor, smeared blood and guts, mutilated bodies and burnt husks..." The officer continued as he pulled out a notebook and started writing stuff down, no doubt a report of some kind.

"I used our cars 30.cal on some of them, Patches used as much force as I thought necessary-" Jeremy said as he approached the group.

"And I shot someone who blew up..." Matt quietly muttered nonchalantly as he walked past the officer, startling him, and stood next to cam.

"Fine, but the guys in charge back at the B.P HQ ain't gonna like this. They don't think the idea of a team of rangers going postal helps the militants view of us." He said with a sigh and continued to write.

"Not our problem." Matt replied casually as he looked around, seemingly bored.

"Of course its not..." He muttered as he continued to write something. "Expect a message from the B.P within the next few days, no doubt asking for your side of the encounter. I would ask you to fill out a form now but I get the feeling a group of rangers wouldn't be out on the Old Freeway without a reason." He continued as he finished writing and put his pad away.

"Got an order from the Great Divide, that's all you need to know." Cameron muttered darkly.

"You don't have to stick around if you don't want to but I get the feeling that guy wants to talk to you." Robert said as he walked around and periodically took photos of the area on his phone. The guy he was talking about was Aaron who seemed to be arguing about something with the paramedics before they begrudgingly let him walk over to us, limping in pain.

"Thanks for saving my ass back there, I know that isn't much so have whatever you want from my truck. Its mostly rations for the N.T frontier towns, so don't take those, but there's some miscellaneous crap I was planning to sell, but I get the feeling you guys don't give two shits about a thanks." He said with a slight smile as he walked back to the paramedics who sat him down in the back of the armored ambulance.

"Sweet, free stuff!" Jeremy said eagerly as he walked up to the wrecked truck and looked inside the back of it. It was an old M35 Cargo Truck, used by the Americans before the end, a group of Australian traders came across an abandoned military base and 'acquired' them. A surprising amount of cargo trucks have been salvaged over the years but are mostly used by Independent traders. This particular truck had dessert camo cargo covers on, probably to hide the amount of cargo and guards that were stationed in the back. As moved the cover we saw he wasn't kidding when he said it was mostly ration packs.

"Fuuucckk, I didn't even know these things could carry this much food. MREs, astronaut food, salted and preserved meat, dried fruits, soda, whisky and sterilized water by the crate load. Where the fuck is all this going too?" I asked no one as we jumped into the back and looked around, using the open cover flap as our only light source.

"I don't know man but this guy would have been set for a year or two with this kinda haul." Jeremy replied as he looked behind a few crates.

"Hey look, wireless headsets." Cam said as he opened a small crate. Inside where a large amount of in ear headsets that were small enough to wear with a helmet on and connected to a small hub. The box and headsets were painted black and looked easily concealable.

"This is the stuff patrol teams use to communicate with homebase. Shit the range on these things are amazing." Jeremy said as he inspected them.

"Well, he said we can have whatever." Cam said as he put one on to try it out. it fitted into his ears and the wire and plastic casing went around the back of the ear to the other one and the hub box sat in his trench coats chest pocket.

"Damn, these are nice." I said as I put one on.

"Looks like we don't need to borrow walkie talkies anymore." Matt said as he put his on and opened another crate to his left.

"Wow, I never thought I would see some of these in such good condition." Matt said as he reached inside the crate.

"What is it? A China Lake?!" Cameron asked excitedly.

"No, better." He said as he pulled out a wooden acoustic guitar.

"Instruments? Really? Got my hopes up for nothing" Jeremy asked with clear disappointment in his voice.

"Well what the fuck else are we gonna do in our spare time." Matt said as he pulled out more instruments.

"An Acoustic bass guitar for Patches." He said as he handed me a well made wooden orange guitar with fine tuned metal strings.

"A Harmonica for Flare, don't give me that look you can't play anything for shit." He said as he handed Cam, who took it reluctantly, a scratched red harmonica.

"A Acoustic guitar for me." He said as he pulled out a plain wooden guitar with a fine polish with black painted lines.

"Anything for me?" Jeremy asked as he continued to look inside different boxes.

"Nope, unless he has a whole drum kit here, you ain't getting shit." Matt said as he closed the box.

"Well fuck. So, why are we taking a bunch of musical instruments. If you expect us to start a band then I hope you remember how well that went down in High School.." Jeremy said slightly disappointed then curiously.

"Na, nothing like that. I'm just saying it would be cool to actually play music from time to time on the road instead of listening to a bunch of songs we can sing line for line. Besides, its a fun distraction." Matt said as he walked out of the truck. As we were walking out, instruments in hand, I looked down to the floor and couldn't help but laugh as I picked up a new collectible.

"Hey, I found a replacement for Kevin Rudd!" I shouted as I picked up the Julia Gillard bobble head with a oversized nose. It's paint was scratched and the overly red hair was starting to fade but it was in remarkably good shape.

"Heh. Finally, Parliament is back in session." Matt said with a small laugh as we made our way back to Sheila.

Three Days Later
The A32 Highway, Gas Station, New South Wales, Thirty miles out from Bathurst
Matt

"I swear to god Matt, if you let something creep up on me I'm going to break your nose." Rohan threatened through his headsets mic. I was currently watching him take a piss in a field through my rifle scoop, keeping anything that would want to kill him away from him.

"Don't worry man, I got you." I said as I concentrated on surveying the land. I was currently lying down on Sheila's roof, With Jeremy sitting next to me, drinking some kind of soft drink he packed. Cameron was sitting on the hood, eating chips and listening to music. We had been driving non-stop since the ambush and we were making great progress if you don't factor in the detours we had to make, fucking hordes. We had parked in a gas station parking lot while Rohan walked out into an empty lot and took a call from nature. We had taken a piss break on our road trip at one of the many dilapidated gas stations and convenient stores that used to plague highways and towns, but now they just sit there on broken concrete, collecting rust for the old gas pumps and wrecked cars and mold on all the shitty healthy candy bars. Kinda surprised no one touched them even during the apocalypse. As we sat on top of Sheila I couldn't help but appreciate the cool morning light and the cold winter breeze. As I swept the area, I saw movement. No slow to be a human, but not loud enough to be an infected. Must be a Sentry. Muting my mic, I signaled the others to do the same.

"OK, how far do you think its gonna get before he notices it?" I asked as I looked away from the scope.

"Ten 9mm bullets says it only makes about ten feet." Cameron said, he's mouth stuffed with salted potato.

"An MRE says about twenty feet, beat that." Jeremy challenged with a confident smirk.

"OK, I beat a bottle of bourbon at the next town we stop at if he doesn't notice the Sentry till its right next to him." I said with a smile as I looked back through my scope. Sure enough, out of the bush slightly behind him walked out a busted Sentry.

The Sentries get their name from the fact that most seem to be stuck walking in a loop, often guarding something, but you can find a few rogue ones here and there walking without a set program. The Sentries where going to be a huge thing apparently, both for the military and the big corporations, as they were seen as cheap labor. The militarized ones are a bunch of mean motherfuckers as they tend to be armed to the teeth with anything ranging from a simple carbine to a rocket launcher with a nail gun built into its chest for some goddamn reason. This one thankfully looked like it came from a pizzeria. Its wore a weird suit that wouldn't look out of place at a furry convention with its blood stained purple fur, half torn bunny ears, scratched and broken metal feet and its creepy red eyes and weirdly realistic teeth. It was slowly shuffling towards Ro, not unlike an infected, and seemed to be reaching its arms out towards him.

"OK, lets see how far it gets..." Cameron said excitedly.

"Hey, how long till your done?" I asked as I turned my mic back on.

"umm, not long? Listen can you not talk to me as I'm holding my dick? Kinda makes me feel awkward." He responded sheepishly.

"Why? I mean i'm watching you with a high powered rifle, its not like you're alone. I could probably shout and you would hear me." I responded, smiling as I saw the boy had gotten within twenty feet, pissing off Jeremy as he placed the MRE he was about to eat on the cars roof.

"Listen, I feel safe knowing you're watching me but that doesn't mean I want to talk right now." Rohan continued with a hint of annoyance as I kept him distracted from the robot who was quickly approaching.

"Oh, I never realized you felt that way Ro, If you feel safe with me watching maybe I should-"

"Oh fuck off you twat, you know what I meant now shut up and cover me!" Rohan shouted angrily through the mic as the robot was right behind him.

"Oh its a bit too late for that..." I muttered evilly.

"What?"

"HI THERE FRIEND!" The Robot said with a distorted, annoyingly high pitched feminine voice as it grabbed Rohans shoulders.

"GAH FUCK!!!" Robot shouted as he tried to push it off, but only feel over. After having a short laugh with the rest of the Rangers, I aimed for the robots head and let a bullet rip straight through its metal casing and furry cover. I was a bit sad at the lack of blood but a guess a missing servo and pee stained paints was going to have to be good enough.

"I can't fucking believe you did that! You shiting wanker!" Rohan shouted as he pulled his pants up and ran over with his crowbar over his head.

"Heh, time to get inside boys." I said as I slowly got off the roof and opened the drivers side door and locked the doors with everyone else, but Rohan, in.

"Open the doors so I can kick your ass!" Rohan screamed with an angry scowl on his face as he helplessly banged the crowbar on the drivers side door. The only response he got was a chorus of laughter and a slight bump on the window.

A few hours later
The Bathurst Circuit, Mt Panorama
Jeremy

"WOOOWWHHOOOHHHOOO!!!!" Cameron shouted as he hacked off yet another dead racers head at 110 mph down a race track. Likewise Rohan was laughing his head off as he caved in a monster's head with his crowbar while I mowed down a horde of beasts in front of me on the turret while Matt was driving Sheila into said horde. Many Rangers found visiting Mt. Panorama and reducing the local infected population while driving stupidly fast one of the best things since fertilizer was mass produced again. So here we were, two of my friends laughing like a jackass, Ro in the passenger seat on my left and Cam next to me in the back on the right, while I concentrated on shooting a wall of bodies.

"This almost makes up for you letting that prick sneak up on me!" Rohan shouted over the inhuman screeching of the pale, yellow or white skinned dead ex-residents of Bathurst. The infected ranged from mostly human, with their skin still hanging on loosely, their eyes still having some color but was mostly milky white and their hair falling out onto their blood stained clothes and torn open wounds. They tend to have most of them limbs attached and could pass of as a man or women with a bad limp if they wore a mask, but then there's the mutants. Aldo most infected just look like your run-of-the-mile reanimated corpse there are also a few variants mixed in.

"Oh fuck!" Matt shouted as a Vulture landed on the hood of the car. Speaking of mutants, these ones are the most annoying. Vultures get their name from their strange, leathery wings that break out of their backs from grotesque wounds. Vultures lack legs, instead they drag around useless stumps that bleed putrid liquid that looks like it could be pus mixed with blood. Vultures have shortened arms that barely reach as far as a normal arm but from their grey, cracked wrists grow rows of sharp bone like claws that are used to slash open carcasses. A Vultures two most unsettling features are their elongated heads, which look more like a birds skull then a humans, and their chests which are so skinny and boneless that you can see their organs clearly through their near translucent skin which also gives a good view of their...eggs. As the vulture was seemingly hiding from my turret I watched Matt wind down his window, pull out his revolver and and starting haphazardly at it. Aldo the first shot missed, the second and third ones hit true and pierced its left eye and heart, which only seemed to annoy it as it flapped up and above the car while howling in pain in a strange, scratchy voice. Aiming at it, I let loose a volley of bullets which made quick work of its exposed organs, causing it to seemingly explode in mid air, spraying yellow and red blood all over the ground but thankfully avoided the car.

"Fucking sick!" Cameron yelled as he continued to behead more and more corpses. As we neared a corner Matt slammed on the brakes and power slided into the horde in front of us, causing many of them to be run down or get impaled on the cowcatcher. As we turned sharply right Ro and Cam held onto the car with their free hands and I just held onto the turret. As Matt slammed down on the throttle we speed off down the now cracked raceway speeding past hundreds, if not thousands, of dead people. Some of them looked somewhat familiar, whether they may have been a relative a long time ago or someone from some movie, some of them looked familiar, still didn't stop us from killing them and taking anything valuable.

"Hey, I was wondering, why the hell are we doing this?" Rohan asked as he went back inside the car and rolled up his window, leaving cam to do all the hacking.

"Why the hell not? I think we should make this an annual thing." Matt said excitedly, aldo he seemed a bit sad for some reason, almost distant.

"Meh, All the famous racers are already dead or working for a gang or the military, so its not as fun just killing randoms." Cameron said over the sound of screaming monsters and his blade cutting through said monsters like a hot knife to a stick of butter.

"Not all of them! Eat shit Paul Morris! OK, now we can go...Just after this." Matt shouted joyfully as he ran down a familiar ex-racer and speed down the hillside race track. The day continued like this for quiet awhile with Matt running down anything in his way, Ro and Cam hacking down anything that got too close for comfort and me shooting down any Mutants that I saw, Vultures seem to nest near Bathurst, don't know why aldo it could be all the rotten food, but after a few hours of driving up and down the race track, damaging both the local population and our bullet count we decided to take a few photos next to the now faded white Mt. Panorama with the decapitated head of Paul Morris, you know for Christmas cards, and then went back on the road. Before we left New South Wales, there was one more place we had to visit.

A few hours later...
Rohan

The laughter and sound of mayhem seemed like a distant memory as we all stood there on the cliff face overlooking the now infamous stretch of radioactive land. The sky was grey and cloudy with the distant sound of thunderclaps and rain being the only sound that could be heard. The ground beneath us, once vibrant and green was now a filthy brown and grey, showing no sign of the live that once inhabited this land. The jagged cliff we stood upon looked out a scene of death and decay, a harrowing sight that is both all too familiar to us yet so foreign and depressing. The land was dusty and dead, the only things that still stood was the destroyed buildings and wrecked skyscrapers, the only sign that people once lived here, and the burnt husks of plants and animals. The only things that lived here where creatures that lived in the shadows of this desolate place. Whether they're alive or dead is of no matter, they won't ever leave this kill zone. The ocean was far on the horizon, eventually stopping the spread of destruction. The tide seemed to come in further and further with each passing year, it was so close now that the once beachside houses and businesses are submerged completely underwater, the only things marking them are the scattered signs that request help. Who ever put those signs there are now long dead, their bodies never to be seen again. Some people try and go further into the wastes to scavenge for anything that the rescue teams missed, but the rapid clicking of a Geiger counter quickly detours the smart ones. The scene almost looked like a dark painting of the end of the world with the small shifts of dust and sand, the slowly encroaching storm clouds and the raging crashes of the oceans waves breaking the stillness of dead land.

It was a strange light seeing my friends and I look so different than we do now. Matt had given up on smoking years ago, but it seems every time we come here he smokes a few cigarettes and empties his hip flask. He had just taken a few sips of his hip flask before Cam light one of his cigarettes which he proceeded to take a long drag off. His face was emotionless. This never looked out of place at first, as he often goes 'in the zone' as he puts it but when ever he zones out during a mission he never looks so dead. When hes in the zone hes calculated, prepared and distant, but now he just looked vacant. Gone was the happy man who tends to over indulge and so was the hardened Ranger. He was dead to the world right now and the only thing that came close to showing emotion on him was his eyes...And they just looked hurt beyond belief.

Cameron was angry, this much was clear, but it wasn't the anger he feels towards most things in life or even the anger he reserves for his enemies. This was a primal rage. His eyes seemed to sink into his skull as he his most of his face beneath his black stetson, but what I could see was a twisted scowl and a pair of cold eyes burning with pure hatred. he was feverishly opening and closing his lighter while turning it on and off, casting a small orange glow over his hardened expression. The first few times I tried talking to him he would often snap and try and hurt someone, so now we just stand in silence.

Jeremy was depressed beyond compare. Jeremy prides himself of going out of his way to be cheery in a dreadful situation often just to piss off everyone else, but this was one of the rare times his mask cracks. He was openly crying as he stared out at the empty landscape, never blinking or breaking concentration as he wordlessly vented. He was going to be fine, but in this moment we knew he needed to let it all out, so we just let him cry for awhile. His eyes were puffy and red, his cheeks had a constant stream of tears running down it and his slouched posture and lack of his signature cocky and stupid grin all pointed out he was not in his usual happy state of mind. He seemed to be turning his necklace over and over in his hands and periodically mumbled something to them.

I stood there. I'm not really sure how I felt. Angry? Sad? I felt both of those but I was never as far gone as the others. When I stare out into the ruins I never know what to feel. When he came back here many years ago I was angry beyond belief, we all were, but as I got older that anger and sadness started changing. It changed into hope. As I stare, I feel a small sliver of hope somewhere inside me. Many people see this as one of the greatest tragedies of our time, but I see it as the catalysis for something great. A beacon for us all to stand together for and a war cry for us all to fight for. Our focus and thoughts were broken by the soft pat of rain on our heads and the echoing clap of thunder. I'm not sure how long we stood there, but it was long enough.

"Remember Sydney..." I said dejectedly.

"Remember Sydney." The others echoed with a matching tone of voice. Wordlessly turned around and slowly made our way down the cliff towards Sheila. Once I had gotten in the drivers seat the rain started pouring down, drenching our cars exterior. Matt, from the passenger seat, reached forward and grabbed bobble Tony Abbott's head, face it towards Julia Gillard, pulled it back, and let it go causing it to slam into Bobble Julia Gillard's oversized nose causing them to bounce into each other again and again.

"We should probably move on, An anomaly is gonna hit soon, hell its already at Bathurst by now." Jeremy said, his voice still a bit choked up, from the right of Cam as he inspected his phone. We silently drove off in the direction of Canberra, hoping to get there by tomorrow morning if we don't have to take shelter from the storm.

The Everfree Forest
???

Deep in the Everfree Forest, as the night was nearing its end, a dark storm was brewing. The clouds where dark and sickly discolored, giving off an alien look and feel, and the usual thundery boom was now a distorted copy, now sounding more menacing than ever before. The animals fled in terror at the strange sight, but no one was around to document this sight, much like all the times before elsewhere in the world. As the storm grew so did the discoloration, which now gave off a sick, neon glow. Lighting struck the ground haphazardly, killing all the animals and plant life in a ten foot radius and leaving nothing behind but death, burnt plants and a radioactive glow. But, as the storm was coming to an end hours later in the early hours of morning, as the final bolt of lightning struck the ground, something was left behind. If anyone were to see it, they would think it to be some burnt metal or a shiny rock that had been painted black. But, as the figure rose from the ground they would have been able to notice its singed purple fur and one floppy ear. As the figure stood up tall it seemed to rub its eyes, or more correctly its one glowing purple eye and its empty socket. The figure quickly look around and seemed to be surprised by where it was, despite having a permanent grin on its artificial face. It quickly inspected itself, wiping off any dirt or grass it found on itself and then seemed shocked at its mangled right foot and the huge bullet hole in the front and back of its head. It sighed in an over the top and comical fashion before merrily walking off in a random direction. After what felt like to the figure minutes of walking it strutted into a clearing. The early morning light lit up the small area and the only things that seemed out of place was a moss covered log and...

'A bunny!!' the thing thought happily as it walked towards the sleeping bunny. As he approached it he noticed it was a white rabbit with two cool purple stripes running horizontally along its sides. After getting down on all fours and poking it, the rabbit woke up and panicked at the giant creature. Breathing heavily the rabbit backed away from the giant purple thing until it hit a log on the ground and then closed its purple eyes in fear. After about a minute of heavy breathing the rabbit opened its eyes and saw the thing was offering an outstretched paw(?) in a way that looked like a hoof shake of some kind.

"HI BUDDY! WANT TO BE FRIENDS?" The giant thing asked with a chipper voice.

Prologue: A Rangers Duties - Part 3

Rohan
twenty hours later, 1 PM
The A25 Highway

"So, which would you rather? A mutated face, or two mutated arms?" Matt asked me from the back as he inspected his knife for faults.

"I don't know, what kind of mutations are we talking? Like, a melted face where you can see the bones or hardened skin that looks vainy? Like a Redskull rip off?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the road.

A storm had rolled in shortly after we left the Sydney Ruins and it had not let up yet. The side of the roads were flooded and the once green landscape was obscured from the endless rain, making it hard to see a few feet in front of you without the highlights on. It was almost impossible to see the broken cars or the corpses that littered the roads but we were cautious enough to avoid everything, despite Cameron's insistence that we were going way to slow.

"You got a melted face, but whats left is durable as hell and the bony parts are tough as rocks." Matt said as he looked outside to window to his left.

"What about arms?"

"Well, one's normal to the elbow then the skin rots away and forms a bone blade, like a Reaver, the other ones normal but really sensitive so it hurts like a bitch if you get a small cut." Matt said, a small smile on his face.

"In that case...Arms. I could just cover my bad arm in a shit ton of armor or something and stab people with my mutant arm." I answered a bit unsure.

"Meh, I would go with the mutant face, I'm quite attached to my arms." Matt replied, the smug self approval in his voice was so thick you could cut it.

"Oh fuck you, Matt, that wasn't even a good one." Jeremy muttered as he was slowly waking up from his restless, sleepless nap.

"Meh, better than anything you could come up with. How long till we reach the FOB?" Cameron muttered next to me as he stopped humming a song for a minute to talk.

"Not long now, we should be-"

"This is a Ranger exclusion zone, if you lack permission to enter turn back now or you will be detained or shot." I heard an emotionless voice say over the radio, then the faint slurp of someone drinking something.

"This is Sierra team, here to provide assistance with the Canberra operation." Jeremy said as picked up the mic.

"Shit, you nut jobs all the way out here? I thought you four where getting used to that desk job at Fort Alice." The voice said with a chuckle.

If the slight hint of age was anything to go by he was a senior Officer.

"Yeah, but there's only so much political bullshit you can handle before you need to shoot something."

Matt said loud enough to be heard through the mic.

"Huh, don't I know it. The watchers have spotted you and made out your registration, you're clear for entry." He said as the frequency turned to static. As Jeremy hooked the mic back in place and Sheila rose over a slight hill we saw the forward operation base up ahead. Once an old motel with a gas station across the road, now a tiny military complex surrounded by a small metal wall. The ACT exclusion zone's FOB was usually manned by a skeleton crew as no one was crazy enough to try and enter the old ACT, but at the moment it was alive and the sound of training and gunfire carried all the way down the road. The sky was occupied by the few helicopters the Rangers owned landing or flying away from the outpost, no doubt carrying a few Rangers from either the Great Divide headquarters or from the only functioning airport way out west in Perth. The road, though appeared empty, was no doubt being monitored by a group of Hunters or a system of cameras and sensors, how else would they be able to spot us this far away in the pouring, obscuring rain? As we neared the outpost, I couldn't help but feel like something big was about to unfold, and that shit didn't sit well with me.

Jeremy
10 minutes later
The ACT Exclusion Zone Outpost

"Names and designation." The bored guard asked. We had been in line for what felt like hours behind a string armoured cars heading towards the metal scrap wall, and now we were at the front of the line being questioned by a half asleep guard.

"Ranger Tycho, Ranger Patches, Ranger Sundown and Ranger Flare. Sierra Team." Matt said, bored and not even looking at the guard who only looked up from his trashy romance novel to inspect our badges.

"Yeap, it all checks out. Move along." The guard muttered as he pressed a button to raise the small barrier in our way. Driving into the camp I was struck with a sense of urgency. Everyone was running around, training their collective asses off or working on some project and I could see a few officers and trainees here and there. If we were desperate enough to have Nosebleeders and seniors on site then something huge must be going down. Turning left we drove into the motel car park, most of the spaces had already been taken but there was one left, all the way to the left and next to the 'board room'. The motel was an old two story painted building with a staircase from the car park leading up to the second floor and a now empty and grimy pool. The windows were boarded up and the rooms were rarely used for sleeping. Getting out of the car I sprinted under the hotels walkway to get out of the oppressive rain and stretched my tired muscles. The tents next to the motel were all occupied with soldiers who got here first, unlucky bastards have to sleep outside in this kind of weather. Hope we can get a room or at least sleep in Sheila if we're staying for a night or two.

"So, where do you think the officers are?" Cameron asked after surveying the area. Wasn't much to see aside from rows of tents, an old motel, a gas station turned armoury/cafeteria, a few trucks and cars refueling, some recruits being put through impromptu training, a tank and a line outside the men and women restrooms at the gas station.

"If I had to guess, probably the board room, though honestly I just want to get something to eat." I answered as I vainly tried to keep warm. Walking towards the board room we could hear a hushed conversation and saw two guards standing outside.

These guys were Soldiers, but not like the Militants. They wore heavy metal armor that looked similar to Ned Kelly's, though theirs' was much more light weight, had simple Kevlar on underneath and wore a riot helmet instead of a metal helm. They had painted their armor dark blue with white stripes, indicating they were guards instead of normal Rangers. They were probably either older than us, were much more decorated or simply preferred a safer line of work then us. Each were armed with a Steyr AUG, a Ranger favorite, and an M9 pistol.

"Let us through." Matt said bluntly as he went to walk past them, only to be shoved back by the guards.
"Sorry, no ones allowed in unless given permission." The guard on the right said, she had a surprisingly soft voice.

"What's so important we can't know? We're all men and women in arms here aren't we?" I asked with a diplomatic voice, trying to take a less direct approach.

"Sorry, we can't help you. Please move along, I'm sure you are needed elsewhere." Her partner continued, unlike his fellow guard his irritation towards us was showing through his burly voice.

"Listen you fuck, we're getting in there and you couldn't stop us even if you wanted to!" Cameron shouted, stopping the conversation inside.
"Sir, I will have to ask you to leave before we are forced to detain you and your friends." The female guard insisted as she noticeably clicked her safety off while her partner reached for his pistol and a pair of handcuffs.

"What my hot-blooded friend here is saying is that-" Patches tried to say before the door was opened.

"What the Devil is going on out here?" Questioned an old voice which sounded suave, annoyed, posh and pissed off.

"Sorry to disturb the meeting sir, we were just dealing with these uncooperative Rangers." The male guard said quickly.

The sir he was referring to was the most senior member of the Rangers, Ranger Victoria. He was a tall man at six foot four and was in his early fifties, possibly forties, his long, well kept white hair and beard, the lines on his face, his partially blind right eye, knowing smile and cane where all indicators of his age. Victoria was one of the first Rangers, and wears his old tin badge with pride. Unlike most Rangers his badge only featured the quote and star and almost no spark in its design or look, but he loved the antiquated thing. He wore black suit pants, white dress shoes, a stained white dress shirt and a large black jacket. He looked more like a fatherly gentleman with a usually soft and charming voice to go with his attire and look, but his duel Colt Python revolvers and his rosewood and gold Winchester rifle were enough to stop any trooper, raider or mugger dead in their tracks.

"Hm, annoying and reliable would be a more apt description for these four gentlemen. Would have thought you four were going to drag your feet coming here." He said with a small smile as he shook our hands.

"You know us sir, couldn't wait to kill more Yanks." Cam said enthusiastically.

"Ha! If more of the Rangers around here had that attitude we could attack L.A and come out no worse for wear." Vic said with a chuckle as he inspected his ebony cane.

"Well sir, when it comes to killing those fuckers it seems us and the euro trash living in what's left of the UK are in a tie. Still, I say we could rack up some collateral damage if you let us at them again like Operation Shitstorm." Ty said with a small smile, an unusual thing for him to do in public.

"Operation THUNDERstorm was only possible because of a mix of tactics, luck and favorable weather. If we were to attempt that now with a much larger force it would be a battle of attrition, which we would swiftly lose on their ground, and not based on the hit-and-run guerrilla tactics we used before." Vic said matter-of-factly as he quickly shot down Tycho's overconfidence.

"Man, you really know how to create a fun idea then tear it apart." Cam said, disappointed at the fact that charging head first into trouble isn't the way to solve things.

"No Ranger Flare, I'm just using my mind. Remember, most humans are born with a self preservation instinct. Well if that's all gents I must get back to the meeting, politics wait for no man." Victoria said with a small hint of snark then humour.

"Actually sir, that's why were here. What the hell is really going on?" Ro said quickly as he grabbed Vic's shoulder before he opened the door. Vic turned around and sighed.

"Short answer, we don't know. Long answer is that we believe the Blue Coats may have found a prototype weapon hidden somewhere in the various government facilities littered around the ruined parts of the world. We don't know what it is or if it even works but we know the Blue Coats wouldn't walk into the most radioactive and infected area of Australia with a small army and an unknown piece of equipment unless they were confident they could push us back." Vic said after dismissing the guards at the door and speaking in a small whisper.

"And this is bad why? Remember the last time a threat used a prototype weapon? We destroyed it and the wankers using it! Why is this being kept secret?" I said, reminding him of some of the past 'threats' the Americans and Raiders brought with them.

"This isn't a secret, we're going to tell everyone tonight as we believe the last batch of Rangers should be arriving soon. We're always cautious of threats Sundown, even if they seem broken or useless they could still wipe us out if we gave them the benefit of the doubt and threw caution to the wind." Vic said honestly.

"We know its a serious threat and we're treating it as such, but the last few times they used a secret weapon we were able to outmaneuver it or it broke down. Lets face it, most of the 'secret' weapons or 'weapons of mass destruction' are think pieces and base models that no one worked on because they weren't batshit crazy." Cam said, reassuring that we weren't borderline suicidal or dumb asses with no concept of tact.

"I know you're not completely insane and you've gone up against worse, but that doesn't mean that this one will break down or run out of power. Listen, I would love to stand outside under a crumbling cement staircase in the rain but I have a meeting to attend to. If I were you I would get something to eat. There's still a few more hours to sunset. Now I must bid you adieu." He said with a small bow then walked back into the room, slamming the door behind him.

"...Ever get the feeling he secretly regrets meeting us?" Matt questioned as we turned around and began running across the rain slick street towards the old gas station, avoiding bumping into any rookies or cars.

"Wouldn't be the first dude to wish they had never met us. Ben seemed pretty pissed the last time he saw us." Rohan shouted over the rain as we walked towards the gas station's double doors. Outside the gas station where various armoured cars and trucks refuelling at different pumps or simply using jerry cans full of oil or petrol. The small store was well lit and almost full as people desired a safe haven from the endless downpour.

"Yeah, but Bens' a dick. 'Sides, he seemed pretty happy with his new job as a Trader." I said as I opened the door, letting us into the small cafeteria. The yellow walls were fading in colour and the white tiled floors were cracked or removed. The back of the store was refurbished and was now a small kitchen staffed by cooks and the front housed rows of tables and benches where restless Rangers sat enjoying a simple meal or a cup of what looked like soft drinks. As we walked past the various tables some people either waved at us with a smile, ignored us or seemed to be staring at us with contempt. Making our way to the fast moving line we made our order from the various options listed.

"A garden salad please." Rohan said as he got a small, chipped ceramic bowl full of fresh greens, some kind of tomatoes and onions.

"What the hell is 'mystery meat'?" Cam asked as the chef serving us grabbed a small tray with semi burnt ham and some mashed potatoes on it. "Meh, can't complain it's still meat." Cam said as he and Ro walked away looking for a table.

"Holy shit! Beer battered fish is an option?! Give me two!" Matt said excitedly as he slammed his hands into the bench. The chef simply rolled his eyes and handed him a plate with some battered fish and a few chips. "Fucking A."

"Lasagne? Awesome, that thanks." I said with a smile as I was handed a decently sized cut of freeze dried pasta.

Walking over to Matt we saw Cam and Ro waving from a table near a window. Walking over we noticed four strangers sitting at the table. Ro and Cam were on the other side so we could see them eating, though these strangers were hard to identify as they were facing our squad mates. Stepping up to the table I sat down next to Ro, with Matt on the edge of the table, and facing the strangers.

"So, you're the infamous Sierra team? I always imagined you guys to be taller." The guy opposite me said, his smile matching his smooth, yet cracking, voice.

He looked...Odd. His long, styled and spiked black hair hung loosely over his light brown face covering his blue catlike eyes, probably contacts of some sort. Probably paid a month's worth of rations for something usually so cheap. He was athletic and averagely tall at five foot ten but was shorter than most of Sierra. He had a few silver piercings on his lips, nose and eyebrows giving him a punk look. He wore a plain singlet with a black jacket covering his arms with a splash of faded neon purple paint on the jacket, making it look liked someone who ate a bunch of radioactive elderberries spewed on him. He also wore black pants with strange lines painted on and a few weird decals, 'new world art' some people like calling it, and a bunch of pockets here and there, the various miscellaneous items within bounced haphazardly, and a pair of purple skate shoes that looked hand painted were on his feet. The only other noticeable things about this special snowflake was the surprisingly bright purple streak in his hair which gave him a weird, killer DJ look, a pair of blue headphones which seemed to be blasting some loud, irksome, bass heavy song and lastly a pair of dog tags. Overall, the guy looked like a prepubescent Mexican kid who just got back from a rave...And smelt like he got kicked in the face by a man made of deodorant and some kind of fruity energy drink.

"Don't mind him. Frogs a prick, but he means well usually." The girl next to 'Frog' said with near no emotion in her voice.

She looked off to say the least. She was tall, as in head to head with Ro, had a messy red pixie haircut that framed her dark brown and round face nicely. She had light hazel eyes and a stoic expression which seemed out of place with her chubby face. She wore a black hoodie, with no zipper on it, and a yellow skull and crossbone design painted on the back in bright yellow. She had the hood up which casted a shadow over her face giving her a sinister vibe. She wore faded jeans that looked like they would offer no protection if it weren't for the off yellow leather armour wrapped around her legs and the black leather work boots which would most likely only stop rocks, tools and glass from stabbing her feet. Aside from the causal attire she also wore black/yellow gloves wand an odd gas mask. It was bright yellow, had gas filters on the front, blacked out eyeholes, a few words decorated the mask and seemed to spell out recipes for making chemicals or explosives and a few metal pieces added that only served as decorative plating. She looked like an Industrial graffiti artist straight out of the Ghetto, and the duffle bag and guns she was carrying didn't help.

"Um, who are you four?" Ty asked as he took his hipflask off his belt and took a quick swig before ravaging his meal.

"Heh, we're the soon-to-be unstoppable force known as Freakshow! I'm Frog, that assholes' Roach, and those two are Four Eyes and Poindexter." Frog said, his voice full of bravado.

I think the easiest way to describe Four Eyes would be to call her a hobo loaded with weapons and a steely look. She had her long, dusty, ivory hair tied back into a loose bun held by a pink scrunchy. Her lightly tanned, yellow face was angular and thin, signs of fleeting beauty or malnourishment. She was clearly young, nearly an adult I would say. Her thin, pale brown eyes were obscured by a large and cumbersome pair of glasses; the frame was metal, the lens looked recently repaired but the strangest thing about her glasses where the small magnifying glasses built onto the frame that looked locked in place above the lens. Few would wear something so abstract and bizarre. Covering her body was a large, dusty brown, leather trench coat that seemed to move with a hint of weight, concealed tools and supplies perhaps? She also wore black pants with Kevlar woven into it, a dirty and torn black button up shirt and a pair of steel toe boots.

"Soon to be? Need I remind you that some of the people here have actually contributed to the New World?" Four eyes said, her young, stern voice carrying a scholarly accent.

"Honestly, it's dreadful that I'm considered on par with you." Poindexter said, his posh, annoyed tone lined with a hint of mirth.

He was a near extinct type of person: an albino. His snow white skin made it almost impossible to see his long, immaculate blonde hair. His pale green eyes, guarded by a thin pair of glasses, held a hint of sinister thoughts and his charming, bored smile and beautiful features only served to give a guise of trust. He wore a long, grey and stained done up lab coat with various tears along the bottom, a pair of clean, ironed pants, black loafers, white gloves and a plain leather belt. All in all, he looked like an albino male model dressed as an unlicensed rich doctor. Strangely, he had no noticeable scars, injuries or any other abnormality and his youthful looks would suggest he would be only a year or two older than Four Eyes.

These four looked out of place, like they'd stumbled across the outpost and wandered in. They were definitely Nosebleeders...Great, fucking rookies.

"Before these three get into a punch out, what's up?" Four Eyes asked, breaking up the angry stares being thrown at Poindexter from Frog.

"Clouds." Tycho answered bluntly, trying to ignore the four newcomers.

"Not a very talkative lot huh?" Poindexter asked, carrying equal humour and boredom in his voice.

"We're not big on strangers, 'sides we were here first." Flare said, trying to get them to leave as he continued to eat the weird pseudo-meat on his plate.

"Oh come on, we just want to talk to a few vets. You guys got to have some interesting stories!" Frog asked eagerly, banging the table lightly.

"Sorry kid, we're not bards and we don't babysit. If you want a war story go pester Whiskey, those drunken idiots will say anything for a good drink." I said, trying to get them to leave without hurting anyone.

"Hey, I want to hear a story so I'm gonna get a story." Poindexter said nonchalantly.

"That a threat?" Flare asked, slowly getting angry.

"No, Dexs' just straightforward. If you give him what he wants he'll probably go away." Roach explained,though I was unsure if she was being diplomatic or just uncaring.

"...Fine, what do you want to hear?" Patches asked with a sigh.

"What was Darwin like?" Frog asked quickly and a bit too loudly. Almost instantly the friendly and warm atmosphere of the mess hall ended as we stopped eating. A chill ran down my spine as my mind went to a faraway, isolated memory. Patches seemed dead inside as he stared down at the table and Ty seemed content to ignore everything.

"Shut the fuck up..." Flare said, fury painted on his obscured face as he viably restrained himself from violently lashing out.

"W-what did I say?" Frog asked obliviously as his comrades looked at him, shell shocked.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Roach snapped, causing Patches to drift back into reality.

"Hey! Dipshit!" We all heard a particularly annoying voice scream. Looking behind Frog we saw three burly men stand behind him, all livid.

"Oh, hey." Frog stuttered,trying looking tough.

"What the fuck are you and your pisshead crew doing here? Real Rangers only. 'Sides, a Ranger would have known to keep his god damn mouth shut about Darwin. Leave now or I'll make you." The gang leader said, his calm, masculine voice hiding his hatred. Must have been a survivor.

"Listen meatheads, why don't you go back to whatever the fuck you were doing and we-" Roach said before being interrupted.

"You don't get to talk to us like that maggot!" One of the new men shouted right in Roach's calm face, spittle flying freely from his cut and bloodied mouth. He was trying to scare her but only annoyed her as she leaned in to return the state and challenge him.

Looking between us, we wordlessly argued whether or not to step in for these four trainees. Despite Flares reluctance, we all stood up from the table making our presence known.

"There a problem here?" Patches asked rhetorically as the three lightly armoured men shifted their attention towards us.

"Hmm, not surprised a group of madmen like you are wasting your time with these rookies. This ain't a problem Ranger, just trying to get these runts to leave." The ring leader said in a tone that suggested he wasn't about to be fucked with.

"Incase you haven't noticed it's pouring outside, it would be cruel to send anyone out in this kind of weather." Patches informed him as he seemed to chuckle.

"And I care? Training in the rain will do them good, we got hot water and medicine so even if they caught something they'd be fine." He challenged as he and Patches continued their stare off. Looking down I took notice of Roach and Frog slowly reaching for a small, metallic club and shimmering dagger respectively. Tycho likewise took notice and, wordlessly, sat down at the table and reached under, grabbing each of their hands and stopping them. If the three dumbasses had even a bit more observant they would have noticed the fairly obvious movement.

"Trust me, I'm all for rough training, we were all Nosebleedsrs once, but I think everyone deserves a decent meal before whatever's happening tomorrow. Now, drop the issue and walk away." Patches commanded as I gave Ty and Flare a quick look, telling them to ready a weapon as the three thugs twitched and seemed to inch towards their melee weapons: standard issue knifes.

"You threating us?" The third Ranger questioned, laughing slightly as he pulled his knife halfway out of his holster.

"No, he's giving you an order." Tycho said calmly as he removed his revolver at the same time it removed my handgun from under the table.

"Heh, I knew you fuckers from somewhere. Sierra Team yeah? No wonder you're not telling these runts about Darwin." One of the guys henchmen said, leaning into my face and giving me a shit eating grin that was quickly pissing me off.

"Sundown right? You tell them about how you and your boys-" He didn't get far into his taunt before I swiftly grabbed his scarred head and slammed it into the wooden table, causing the table to rock violently. Before he could yell out I pulled his head up and throw him back, causing him to stumble over himself and trip. He went to grab his pistol, so I and Patches pulled ours out. He aimed for his head and I aimed at his balls.

"Unless you all want to walk out of here less of a man I recommend you drop what you're about to say and walk outside." Tycho said as he looked up from his food and leveled his revolver squarely at the jaw of the ringleader, who looked tough but was also shaking like a leaf.

The three wankers immediately stopped what they were doing and back away towards the door, lunch wasn't worth a forced vasectomy. They shouted a few insults toward us, all of them pathetic, as they slowly vacated the crowded room. It was impossible to find a Ranger who wasn't carrying at least a pistol and despite the fact they were most likely also carrying some form of firearm they were wise enough to realize we would shoot them if they tried anything. Not kill them, just in the leg or arm.

"Thanks, is it normal for pricks to make it into the Rangers or should be become more assholeish?"Four Eyes asked, the irritation in her voice as thick as a block of cheese.

"Na, it comes with the job." Flare said, causing the few people listening in to chuckle, at this point a few people were coming over, most of them didn't look like a piece of shit.

"Hey, um, I don't know what I said but-"

"Look, don't bring up Darwin and you'll live longer. Ok?" Ty interrupted Frog, his tone becoming more and more agitated and angry as he fidgeted under the eyes of the crowd.

"Sure..." Frog said, unsure what he should say.

"Sooo...Got any stories you don't mind sharing?" Four Eyes asked shyly. Flare seemed to light up a bit as he gave her a mischievous look.

"Well, there was this one time when we were in Mexico-"

"Dear sweet zombie Jesus don't tell them that one!" Patches interrupted with an uneasy look, countered by Sundown and Flares evil smirks.

The evening passed quickly in that shitty cafeteria, people came, left, fought and shared tales of their various invigorating adventures which served to raise morale and lighten the oppressive atmosphere of the Australian wasteland.

Matt
Five hours later, 6 PM
Outpost Mess hall, ACT Exclusion Zone

The blazing sun had slowly started to set below the broken horizon and the inspiring environment had begin to shift to a more jovial one as a few Rangers bought some boxes of booze from a few travelling traders. Caravan brew might taste horrid but it got the job done. The Nosebleeders had been ordered to report for training a few hours ago and no one was missing them, now it was just us, a few senior members and three or four packs of Hunters. The makeshift cafeteria was alive with the sound of bad singing as people sang along to an old drinking song, and the sound of laughter and swearing as Patches and Flare reveled in the attention as they told tale after tale to the intoxicate. Alcohol and funny stories about killing criminals are great for passing the time. To say the least I felt out of place as I leaned against the side of a cracked, pale wall taking quick swings from my silver hip flask, adjusting my hoodie and trying to blend in with the wall...Which was going well until Sundown showed up.

"Getting drunk in the corner of a room won't make you invisible, you know that right?" Sundown asked rhetorically, leaning next to me.

"It certainly helps with dealing with you. Sup?" I said, curious to why he came over.

"Not much, got bored of telling stories to drunk idiots and tricking people into playing card games, plus you look like shit." Sunny said honestly, grabbing a beer can from a nearby crate left ajar on top of a table.

"Feel like shit. Nah, just a bit out of my element." I said jokingly, taking a quick drink from my hip flask. My home brew whiskey, though fruity, was fucking strong .

"Your element is your bedroom or a dirty hill. Come on man, try and live a little." Sundown said mockingly as pushed me off the wall lightly.

"You know I don't want to do this." I said reluctantly as I dragged my feet on the ground, trying to slow down Sunny as he continued to walk while bringing me along. I tried to calm myself internally, though to anyone else I would have looked slightly annoyed or displeased.

"I don't care, you're allowed to be a loner at Fort Alice, the people there are yokels, rednecks and idiots, but you can't ignore other Rangers because technically their our co-workers." Sundown said as I finally gave up on stopping him.

"...Fine." I said simply as I stopped dragging my feet along and walked alongside Sundown. As we walked through the small crowd of rowdy Rangers towards the centre of the room I looked around for anyone I wouldn't mind talking to.

"Wingas and Dingas are still telling stories, those guys in the corner look pissed off, could probably take them but I don't want to start anything...Yet. The volunteer cooks were on their smoke break and there was-"

"Look Brothers, Death approaches!" I heard a loud, cheerful feminine voice announce. Turning around and looking towards a table near the back I noticed perhaps the most abnormal group of people in the camp: the Hunters.

Hunters were a mix bag of skill, crazy and camping equipment. When the world went to shit some were prepared and survived, and then there were people who thrived. These people were mostly hunters, farmers, botanists or any other naturey shit before everything went to shit and instead of evacuating to a designated 'safe zone' or head inland like most people they fled into the bush or the rainforest if they lived close enough. As everyone was trying to jump start society and bring back law these fuckers were living in a tribal paradise. They formed nomadic groups and traveled the wilderness, they fashioned bows, clothes and tools from whatever they found or traded food and herbal medicines with other wanderers for their weapons or tools. Overtime they grew to love the new world, seeing the infected as ways to hone their skills, often firing arrows at them from the tree line, and saw raiders and slavers as fair game, often using a single tribal member to lure them into the woods. No one knows what they do to slavers, but the bone chilling screams deter people from finding out. They were either insane or so wrapped up in their new lives that they gave no shits to anything outside of their communities. No one was quite sure what they do, but there were a few things they do know about them: 1) their good at tracking and hunting, 2) they mostly stick to the bush or forests and 3) their the only group in Australia that grows weed legally. In exchange for assisting the Rangers with hunting down criminals and bolstering numbers in the case of an invasion they're allowed to grow and sell cannabis. Some people loathed this while others, like me, loved this decision.

"Oh, hey."I said calmly as I walked over to the small table. There sat two guys and two girls decked out in leather and metal armor that looked like they skinned a bear, wolf and suit of armor and stuck the pieces together giving the fur covered armour a haphazard design with an earthy smell. Their skin was covered with various tattoos, scars and marking, all outlandishly colored and so abstract that the meaning of each individual tattoo would be lost on an outsider. Their hair was long, decorated with items ranging from shiny beads and jewelry to pieces of animal bones carved into specific shapes and either tied back into a pony tail, twisted into dreads or left in a wild look.

"No need to be shy my friend, your actions speak louder than your words and your actions have helped us numerous times. You will always be welcome at our table, I em Huntress Nightshade, these are Hunter Lionheart, Huntress Onix and Headhunter David." exclaimed the girl to my left, pointing out each of the identical members at the table. She had jet black hair, decorated with small bones used to tie her hair back into a loose ponytail and decorate the few dreads which followed the contours of her face. She wore simple leather and cloth clothes that hanged loosely off her toned body. She, along with her friends, carried a handcrafted metal dagger, a wooden bow and arrows and a small silenced sidearm. They might have gone native but they weren't stupid enough to stop using guns.

"It was just work, I was paid to shoot stuff so I did it." I said plainly, taking a quick look around the table.

"Any task of such importance, regardless of payment, deserves to be praised! The Chieftain spoke highly of you, I still don't know why you rejected our offer, but to each their own I suppose." She continued, taking a swig of her drink, audibly gulping her fermented and sweet smelling drink, I would call it alcohol but the smell was so otherworldly that I wasn't entirely sure if the Hunters had created a new kind of fruit.

"So, what kinda deal did HQ make to get you guys out here?" I asked, looking over the small group. They didn't look like much compared to a militant, but they were just as deadly, and revered, as any trained Ranger which makes them a rare sight outside of their usual territory.

"In exchange for all the loot we can find off corpses and a cut of your peoples rations for two months we're offering ground support and scouting parties. I doubt we'll find any good loot off those cravens but a fight's a fight." The guy to my right said, David I think his name was, his smile indicating this was apparently a good deal for them. His bushy, brown beard was littered with crumbs and reeked of alcohol. His fat body was covered head to toe in thick, cloth and leather armour mixed with decorative animal bones of unknown origin, possibly a sea monster or an infected animal. His disheveled hair hanged loosely over his face, obscuring his features. All in all, he looked more like a happy cosplaying drunk then a fearsome Hunter, though appearances are often times deceiving.

"So, what do you think those bastards are bring with them?" I asked, trying to get a less serious view on the situation. I don't care what anyone says Vic is a god damn downer.

"Does it matter?! Those American devils couldn't fight their way out of a preschool and anyone they've killed were no doubt worse and probably deserved it. They've lost touch with what makes a warrior great and it shows through their ranks and lack of strategy! It's all just numbers to them, no grace or tact in any of those simpletons." Jeered the loudest women at the table, Onyx was it? She had short, brown pixie hair that was left untouched. Various scars lined her face and her throat leading down to her metal covered body. Her crimson covering was rudimentary to say the least, held together with hardened hide and straps but was probably sturdier and more comfortable than it looked. Despite her petite form, she was most likely well toned and prepared for a fight...All of this did nothing to deter me from standing up from the table and visibly shaking with rage at her comments.

'lack strategy?'

'Just numbers?'

'Deserved it?!'

"...Lack of strategy? I'm sure it was just numbers alone that let them invade and enslave what's left of Canada, or bombard Fort Alice which killed hundreds of innocent people, or burn down half of mexico! Yeah, just fucking numbers right?! Fuck you, you cocky whore! I haven't seen you do jack shit for this country so don't you dare sit there and insult those who were brave enough to actually do something overseas instead of hiding in a fucking forest waiting for it all to blow over!" I shouted at her, bits of spittle flying out of my mouth, my furious voice rising in volume with each word till I was screaming over the music. All the partying, talking and music had stopped as everyone turned to look at me...Some were angry that I had ruined the moment, some were sympathetic to what I was saying as they were probably veterans of previous conflicts and some were simply confused as to what I was saying; it didn't matter to me as I picked up my flask and left the table, leaving the baffled Hunters to sit and think about what I had just said. Pushing open the cafeteria's doors and shoving my way through some of the mechanics who had assembled around outside near the cars I tried to avoid anyone who would come after me.

"Dude! What the fuck happened back there?!" Sundown asked as he sprinted after me, quickly catching up to me as I vigorously tried to drain my now empty hip flask.

"You heard it asswipe, those cocky-fucking shit!...Look, I appreciate you wanting me to 'let loose' but I'm sick of these fucking pricks. Look around you man, how many of these Officers, Hunters and Rangers do you think have stepped outside this wasteland? Their all overly confident dumb asses who think the American's winning streak is just luck..."I ranted, stumbling over my words as I quickly walked through the street and towards the hotel. I was going to find a vacant room and just rest and try to calm the fuck down.

"Look, I can't speak for everyone but they're just trying to raise moral by imaging them wiping out a cowardice army or pushing back an unstoppable force. No one wants to think about harsh realities in the middle of drinking or whatever the fuck Hunters do in their down time. You got to stop getting so wound up by that shit man, it's not healthy." He consulted as I made my way up the cracked, wet cement stairs of the hotel two steps at a time.

"Yeah, like you're one to talk about health. They're going to have to realize we're fighting a real threat and not some raider gang with new toys...Look, I'm sorry for ruining the good times n' shit but you knew I was uncomfortable and anxious to leave." I said as I walked up to each door and tried the handles until I found one that was unlocked and pushed open the door.

"Well, people only hear stories of when our guys win overseas, the heroic battles and overwhelmingly implausible operations going right and never the soul crushing defeat. It's better the militants and conscripts have something to sing about then to mourn over. Honestly mate, that scene was pretty boring...I was just trying to get someone else to lighten up a bit so it wouldn't seem so dull to me...Heh, I think Partytown might have ruined parties for me, ironically enough." Sundown said with a small, somber laugh as he looked for a seat to sit down in. The room was pretty bare bones; a big, stained red bed facing the right wall, a small wooden table with two termite infested chairs around it next to the big window near the door with the blinds down. The room was dimly light by a small bulb in the roof, the smashed TV, broken fridge and sink and dilapidated and moldy bathroom beyond saving. Sundown sat down in one of the chairs as I completely removed my gas mask and then slammed myself face first into the bed and rolled over onto my back so I was staring at the ceiling.

"It there's one place I can happily get high and drunk at the same time without the fear of losing my wallet, gun and kidney then it's Party town. Fucking guards are so wired no one wants to screw them around...I'm gonna try and catch some sleep." I said as I wiped some sleep out of my hazel eyes while removing my backpack with my other hand.

"Shit, you sure that's a good idea?" Sundown asked as he leaned his chair back against the wall. Removing my pistols holster and knives sheath I placed them on the ground next to my backpack and rolled around till I was comfortable.

"No, not really, but I get the feeling I'm going to want to get SOME rest, even if it's short lived, before we go into the eye of the storm...Night." I said as I got comfortable on my side, facing the door to the right.

"Its not even seven yet."

"Shut up Sunny." I said as I closed my weary eyes. Silently, I heard Sundown started going over his supplies and checking his magazines were full. Of course he knew all his supplies were in order, but it was a meaningless task that he did to distract his mind from less savory thoughts...

"Fucking hell...I need some coffee."Was the last thing I heard, only accompanied by the squeak of his chair, before I drifted off to sleep.

Patches

"What the fuck was his problem?" Flare asked me, breaking away from his captivated audience to speak to me, his plain statement apparently seemed funny to his crowd as they laughed like he was telling a joke.

"Someone obviously pissed him off dillweed...Shit think he's alright?" I asked worryingly, looking out the glass doors of the cafeteria towards the room on the second story hotel I had seem him stumble into.

"Sunshit went with him so we know he won't do something dangerous to himself so stop acting like a little bitch and cheer up!" Flare chastised with a smile as he passed me a stubbie of some shitty old world beer that was still popular, which I promptly tossed aside.

"You know I don't drink that piss man, so stop giving me bottles." I demanded angrily, Flare just seemed to find my irritation funny as he cracked a smile and slapped my shoulder with his left hand, his other one holding a small bottle. His glove smelt faintly of ash and gunpowder.

"If you drank more you would be less of a stick in the mud. Come on mate, the worlds not going to end again if you drink it up!" Flare pressured as he nudged me in the sides as I purposefully looked away from him. His small crowd of listeners started to boo me and mock me, which I wasn't about to stand for.

"For the last fucking time no, do I have to break your fucking arms before you get that through your shrapnel laced skull?!" I shouted at him. His audience stopped jeering at me as he slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the time.

"Oh shit man, your meds!" He shouted, showing me I had missed my prescribed time for the day. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I got up from my chair and sprinted through the doors, shoving them open and running around the engineers and across the street to the hotel parking lot, running through the large puddles in the street. Looking back I could make out Flares face. He looked scared but determined, like he wanted to follow me, but something was stopping him...It didn't matter, nothing mattered but getting my medicine...

'Fuck, how could I loss track of the time so carelessly?! Shit, I left them in my bag right? I left my bag in the back of Sheila...I'm good, stay calm, stay calm, you are fine, you are fine!' I shouted mentally as I ran up to the car and pulled Sheila's keys from out of my pocket. It didn't take long to open the car's back left door. Climbing into the back I found my grey, large duffle bag.

'I am fine...I am fine!...Fuck, where did I put them?!' I mentally screamed as I searched the various compartments. Pain killers, antibiotics, morphine, gauze, needles and yet I still couldn't find them.

'I am fine, I l am-yes!' I cried in joy as I found the clear plastic container which held an uncountable number of white, dusty tablets. With shaking hands I unscrewed the top and grabbed one out from the top, but my twitching hand threw it to the ground onto a sticky patch of the car's floor. Thinking fast I secured my container and picked up my tablet. They were too valuable to waste. Placing the dirty and sticky med in my mouth I forced it down and ignored the disgusting and painful aftertaste. Hyperventilating, I laid myself down onto the back seat and tried to steady my sporadic breathing as colors, shapes and ghastly images of unimaginable horror flashed outside Sheila. The laughing and Technicolor faces were enough to almost break my mental barriers, but I wouldn't let him gain control, not again.

'I am fine.'

'I am fine.'

'I am fine.'

'I am fine!'

'I am fine...'

???
???
???

"I don't fucking know alright?! Let him go, please!"

"You're lying...Tell me what I want to know or your friend will suffer."

"We don't fucking know anything!"

"Let him go or I swear to god I will rip your throat open with your own knife!"

"tsh, tsh, tsh, you still refuse to listen? I hope whatever your hiding is worth it...Hello sir, it's that time again...Don't try and bullshit me I know you're faking..."

"NO, PLEASE!"

"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

"FUCK YOU, YOU SADISTIC FUCKER!"

"L-l-liste-n t-to me...D-don't loo-AAAAAAHHHHHHH!! FUCK!! GGGAAAAHHHHHH!!! FUCKING CHRIST! AAAAHHHHHHHHH-"

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed violently, instinctively reaching for a phantom gun. Shooting straight up from the broken mattress, my right hand shielding my right eye and my left instinctively reaching for the knife no longer at my side I did a quick scan of the dirty room. The old lamp next to me barely illuminating the room, the only other light source being the pale moonlight shining through the cracked window. Sundown sat in his chair, taking a long drag of a cigarette and going over our supplies again, looking at me with a concerned expression plastered on his freckled and wrinkled face. Sighing, I wiped some sweat of my head and got of the bed, stretching my back after standing up.

"Hey...You were mumbling in your sleep...The Basement again?" Sundown said, commiseration laced in his words. I grabbed my belt, back pack and gas mask.

"...Yeah. I'm gonna go man the walls, shooting anything that moves sounds fun right about now." I said quietly, my mask muffling my voice. I had my supplies and knife n' gun, all I needed was my rifle.

"Look, be careful, don't do anything stupid before we get a chance to kill some Blues." Sundown said, like he thought telling me to be cautious would stop me from getting in an accident.

"Whatevs."I said simply as I walked outside the dusty motel room and out into the cool night. The campsite was still alive in the dead of night, street lights and a few piss poor construction lamps; the only people still awake were the guards and mechanics who worked tirelessly to get all our armoured assets in near perfect condition. Yawning loudly, I walked down the chipped stairs and towards Sheila. Walking past the car doors I saw Pat passed out in the back, curled up in the fetal position...No doubt he had suffered a bad trip and was sleeping it off. Deciding it best not to wake the slumbering giant I quickly walked to the back of our car and was revealed to see the car wasn't locked. No one had a reason to steal from another Ranger and if they tried to steal the car they would have Floyd to deal with. Opening the boot I took out my beautiful rifle and a few spare magazines. Silently shutting the boot I walked off down the road towards the locked gates. Aldo the base had two entrenches the entrance leading towards Old Canberra was always locked so as to not let anything unsavory in. Whistling a jaunty tone I looked around. The bats were flying overhead, I saw Vic through a motel room window doing some stupid shit and I could clearly see Flare asleep inside the old gas station to my right, asleep on top of a table. Looking forward I neared the wall and looked up at it.

Made entirely of scrap metal and spare parts it was pretty shit by old world standards but all things considered it was all we could get. The twenty feet high grey wall had one sniper nest atop the gate, the only way to get in was a small metal ladder near the gate that looked like it could give me tetanus if I looked at it hard enough. Slinging my rifle I grabbed a hold of the ladder's rungs and climbed up...The nest was unnaturally silent. usually you could hear the occupants sharing a joke or listing to a faint radio but it was just quiet. Climbing all the way up I reached for the small hatch in the floor of the nest and climbed inside.

The room was dark, barely lit, and the place reeked of the sweet stench of copper and raw iron, and the silver moon's faint light illuminated the dark red liquids seeping out of the ex-guards bodies...The small, cramped living spaces of these two guards was bathed in their blood. Everything was covered from the small, torn white blankets they used as beds to the faint crackling radio. As I climbed into the room I immediately grasped my metal flashlight and revolver and scanned the room. Nothing but the corpses and their possessions. Kneeling down, ignoring the faint creak of the old metal floor, I examined the men.

"Fresh wounds, torso and neck, knife wounds...Who ever did this wanted them to suffer in silence since their jaws seem damaged, possibly broken by a strong punch or blunt force, who ever did this is-" My analysis of the first guard was cut short as I heard the faint sound of something dropping. Not even questioning my instincts I turned around and opened fire with my old sidearm. The loud bang bounced off the metal walls, amplifying the ringing in my ears, but I was still able to hear a male shout in pain then someone collapsing. Shining my light while keeping my revolver ready, I examined my target...And as I laid my eyes on it, my blood ran cold.

Dark blue clothing under black Kevlar armour and small pouches filled with supplies, a silenced Heckler & Koch HK45 pistol painted blue in one hand, and a M7 bayonet in the other. A Shemagh covered face with infrared goggles covering the eyes, and a small symbol emblazoned on the agent's chest: The american flag. No one who wasn't willing to get shot would wear that on himself, there was no doubt in my mind at that point.

"Oh fuck! RED ALERT, AMERICAN FORCES HAVE COMPROMISED OUR DEFENSES! THIS IS NOT-Oh shit!" I began to shout before I was forced to hit the ground as my tower came under heavy fire, the sound of bullets ricocheting off of my scrapyard cover was deafening and within a few seconds the sound of a siren rang out in the compound as Rangers, both experienced and green as grass, got ready. I slowly and carefully got off the floor and looked outside of the lookout to survey the soon to be battlefield. A line of our men and women had formed behind cover near the wall, three teams of engineers were already leaving a few explosive surprises and wire triggered flash bangs near the gates to wipe out the first few waves, a few snipers had set up on top of the gas station and motel and I could see some senior officer rallying the recruits and rookies while three of the very few tanks we had were being rolled out and pointed at the gate. M1 Abrams that had being found at an infected military base. After taking a quick look at ours and their weaponry I could see that aldo we had the more devastating weaponry they had brought a god damn army to our doorstep.

"What the fuck?! Are we being bombed?!" I heard Flare asked, confused as he ran out of the gas station, pistol in hand as he sprinted to Sheila intent on retrieving his supplies.

"Worse, fucking Blue Coats' at the gates." Sundown shout angrily as he looked over the wall from the balcony, shotgun in hand and provisions on his back.

"Fuck...Tycho, where are you? Can you see anything?" Patches said sleepily as he crawled out of the backseat of Sheila and assisted Flare in getting ready. He checked his assault rifle and sheathed his reliable crowbar.

"Sniper's nest. They got more than double our numbers but don't seem armed to take on any towns or cities, I would say their scouting but the numbers say that they've been given guns with the orders to kill anything Australian." I said as I started shooting at anything that moved out there, the rifle's recoil giving pulses of numb pain from my bruised shoulder. From my vantage point I had a good view of the plains, and I could see the fire from a camp far off in the distance.

"Good, keep your head down but don't hesitate to make our job easier you god damned lazy prick." I heard Sundown say as he and the others ran up to the barricade set up three or so dozen meters away from the gates which were being lined with explosives on the outside as the American army started their breaching attempt.

"Don't worry you glory hog, I'll make your job nice and easy..." I said challengingly as I lined my sights up with some Blue Coat C.O. He was decorated with a few badges made from scrap metal and from the looks of his scars he was a veteran of war. he stood tall and proud in front of his platoon, who all seemed scared shitless and inexperienced. He wore large, metal plated armour painted royal blue with basic kevlar armour and clothes beneath the thick chestpiece and to cap it off, he’s cape made from a torn material akin to a blanket and stood proud with fierce determination and bravado. Compared to him, his men looked deprived of confidence. They wore something you would see soldiers were about ten years ago: a bulletproof vest with desert camo, a lightweight helmet offering modest protection from bullets, pants covered with armour in areas that wouldn't hinder mobility and enough supplies in their hefty backpacks that killing one platoon would give a man enough rations to last a long time if he was resourceful. unlike the C.O who had a well looked after, shining pistol in one hand, they all tightly held onto dirty M4A1's. The Americans were hit hard when all hell broke loose, and with all those abandoned military bases, factories and compounds, it didn't take long for the New America Defense Regiment to start sending every man with two brain cells to rub together out into the field with old world or new world weaponry. The officer walked back and forth, his boots kicking up brown dust, no doubt giving some inspiring speech about honor and sacrifice; I proceeded to breath in slightly, squeeze the trigger, and breath out. The now dead leader fell forward onto one of his soldiers as the other troops around him screamed and wiped the blood and grey matter of their faces.

"Don't worry guys, their sending in the worst they got to offer with some shiny toys. As long as we keep up the fire they should break formation and scatter." I said as I continued to look for high priority targets. For awhile I and the few people who could get a clear view outside the wall continued to fire at anything with a face, only ducking to avoid gunfire and reload. By the time the gate had begun to break down almost every Ranger was behind cover with their gun pointed at the opening.

"When that gate comes down, open fire and don't let those dastards get the upper hand!" Victoria instructed as he ran behind cover near the front of the barricade, barely thirty meters away from the scrap metal wall which was now wavering under the blast of several controlled explosions.

"Fuck, they must be really want to get in here if their just skipping right to the heavy shit." Sundown said over the radio, his voice nearly lost in a sea of chatter as various Rangers were changing frequencies to find their own squad as they hurried to organize themselves.

"Well, we're not exactly the kinda-fuck!-Kinda people you don't use weak shit on." I shouted as I quickly ducked down as various soldiers were firing at me.

"To be fair, we have pissed them off to the point where I'm surprised they haven't just tried to carpet bomb us just to get it over with, I mean, I'm sure they got the planes and bombs necessary-" Pat's droning was interrupted as two loud echoing explosions sounded out in near harmony. I felt the gate smash into the ground and heard the gunfire ring out as shouting and cheering of various war cries rivaled the sound of tank fire, but I was more concerned about the loud, shrill creaking of the towers supports. It seems someone got tired of me eliminating all their officers and someone had fired an RPG at the tower's struts. In an instant the tower rocked violently as I shuffled towards the left wall and held onto a bar that offered mild support as the tower lurched backwards.

"Holy shit, Tycho!" I heard Sundown shout in alarm as the snipers nest slammed into the ground, burying me in rubble and scrap metal. In an instant, everything was dark as my body slammed into the ground, the only thing cushioning my fall was the two mattresses that had fallen to the hard ground.

Flare

As I watched the snipers nest crumble into debris I had to restrain myself from running into the pile to dig Tycho out...He'd be fine, he always is. Looking over my small concrete barricade set up in the middle of the road I saw the endless men in matching blue armour charge our line of concrete dividers and burnt out cars. They most likely knew it would be a death march but they also knew their was no cover for them to take so it was either storm the line with their men or stand behind the wall and wait it out, and seeing as how we had the home field advantage and more supplies, they would have to charge us. Many walked onto one of the various traps we had set up, usually blowing them apart and leaving a red smear on the floor and a few body parts or blinding them as they set off a flashbang allowing someone to gun them down where they stand. The gate was covered in blood within half a minute as man after man ran into the kill zone. Some soldiers would take cover behind a friends corpse or get to one knee to make them harder to hit but they all feel the same.

"Fuck...Tycho better be fine, he owns me a ration pack and a crate of bourbon." I said with a hint of worry as I loaded a 40mm grenade round into my launcher, the barrel nearly whacking my leg, and locked the barrel in place I placed the stock into my shoulder and looked over the barricade. I could see an army truck driving up the battered road and I could tell it was full. Deciding it would be better to take out a truck instead of a group of soldiers, I adjusted for distance, raised my barrel slightly and pulled the trigger. With a slight thump the grenade went soaring through the air like a metal dove. As the truck neared the demolished gate the driver tried desperately to dodge the projectile, but it still hit it's mark and exploded on impact with the trucks engine.

"HAHA! Burn you American fucks!" I shouted as I reloaded my launcher and watched gleefully as the truck was engulfed in fire. shrapnel and broken car parts were sent flying, most finding their new homes in a Blue Coat chest, and the men in the back of the truck jumped out, most of them partially on fire. I watched with a mad smile as the opposing force ducked for cover to avoid the rain of shredded metal and quaked in fear.

"Nice shot! Almost makes up for your horrid smell." Sundown said as he ran up next to me, his mini uzi held in his scarred hands. He looked over the small wall and shot at the few people still trying to push past us.

"Hey, you try dealing with gunpowder and explosives on a daily basis and smell daisy fresh. Do you know where the fuck Pat is?" I asked as I shot out another round, blasting apart a small team of seven and leaving their destroyed body parts behind.

Patches
Motel Parking Lot
1:34AM

"Come on, start you antiquated piece of crap!" I shouted with frustration. Sheila wasn't starting and for every second I was wasting Tycho could be bleeding out under that rubble...I continued to try and start the car until I realized something very important.

"Mother fucker...Flare you son of a bitch!" I shouted as I opened the car door, holding my AK-47 in one hand and my car keys in the other. Running up to the boot of the car I heard a group of boots stomp against the pavement, turning around I saw the four Nosebleeders from the cafeteria walk up to me, all of them holding a weapon and looked ready to fight.

"Okay, what do you want?" I asked as I placed my rifle in the car's boot so I could remove a jerry can of fuel.

"Ranger Patches, Ranger Victoria has instructed us that you and the rest of Sierra are now in charge of us, sir!" Roach said, surprisingly loud. In her hands was a dusty MAG-7, a very rare shotgun to find outside of South Africa and seems to be favored by the Trader's Guild guards.

"What?! Now?!" I shouted as I began refueling the car. Vic wasn't known to spring shit like this on us in the worst of situations.

"Well, Victoria told us that after this deployment you four were 'going to be give the burden of training us', his words, and since we have no idea were to be..." Frog said with a noticeable lack of courage as he looked around nervously and drummed his fingers into the handle of his FX-05 Xiuhcoatl...A weapon that was only used by the Mexican Militia and impossible to find.

"Fine, your first order as recruits is to dig Ranger Tycho out from under that pile of rubble there!" I said as I pointed with one hand towards the collapsed snipers nest.

"I'm positive he's dead sir, shouldn't we focus on the barbarians breaking down our door?" Poindexter said, an eagerness in his voice told me he wanted to gun down anyone that walked through our gates and as he he absentmindedly checked his Vector SMG I knew he would probably get himself shot if he got too eager.

"No, he's alive I know he is! Sides' those Blue Ball bastards aren't going anywhere...Yes, finally, you guys stay behind the car, I'm gonna get us close to the tower then lay fire on anyone who might try to sneak up to you, got it?" I ordered as I closed the can and stuck it back in the boot before running up to the drivers side door.

"Got it, don't get shot and dig out your guy. Simple." Four Eye said as she jammed a magazine into her pristine white XM2010, a remarkable find considering their used almost exclusively by American assassins.

As I put my keys in the ignition, turned them and slowly drove forward I could see the huddled figures of the four recruits in my rear view mirror, all of them sticking close to the car like their lives depended on it. As I neared the wall Sheila began to be struck repeatedly by bullets and shrapnel, all of them doing nothing aside from putting me on edge. Driving past the motels car park I could see the pile of rubble and loose pieces of metal that once stood tall to my left and a never ending horde of charging, armour clad monsters to my right. As I shifted the car into park and moved to the hatch built into the car's roof. Opening it, the sound of bullets, explosions and blood curdling screaming filled my ears, nothing new unfortunately.

"You four dig him out, I'll provide cover!"I shouted as I grabbed a hold of the machine guns handles and opened fire on the approaching forces, the hail of bullets scattering their numbers and massacring the ones who didn't run for cover. In an instant the four recruits ran out of cover and behind a chunk of cement, firing a few rounds to keep the soldiers at bay. The blue coats soon had to fall back to another position as they were under constant harass by me and being flanked by the bulk of the Rangers. With all the distractions gone or dead, and the numbness in my hands from constant fire receding, the Nosebleeders made short work of the rubble.

"Sir! We found him!" I heard Four Eyes shout, her no-nonsense voice cutting through the battlefield.

"Get your hands off me, I'm fine!" Tycho said, as charming as ever. After reloading my gun I once again directed a barrage of bullets at the
gate, keeping them from advancing while the four of them and Tycho fell back to me and crept behind the car for cover.

"You know, saying thank you can go a long way." Poindexter said, clearly wanting to be rewarded for saving Ty.

"What do you want? A pat on the back? There's a time and a place and this is neither of those!" Tycho said as he pulled his rifle of his back, set the bipod down on the cars hood, looked in the scope and waited for someone to walk into his line of sight.

"Gee, thanks 'Sir'." Roach said with an annoyed tone as she looked for something to shot.

"Orders?" Four Eyes asked simply.

"I don't know, go support the barrier I'm going to keep the fire on them." I said quickly, not sure how to handle this.

"Fuck..." Frog said, slightly scarred as he and his squad mates ran behind cover to the small force of troopers.

"Wait...We're giving those bastards orders?" Tycho asked with confusion and dread, interrupting his sentence to make a shot.

"Apparently Vic thought we should begin teach rookies since we were getting too comfy with the easy life or something, nice shot by the way." I complemented with a small nod as Tycho smeared the wall with cracked skull, blood and grey matter.

"Man, I don't know how to teach people shit, why do we get stuck with the worse assignments?" Tycho asked, clearly upset.

"Would you rather be posted to Old London and fight off Gits?" I asked, looking for something to shoot with my big ass gun.

"..."

"...Well?"

"I'm thinking, don't rush me!"

Flare

"Holy.Fuck." Sundown said as he looked up from his work in the direction if the motel. Somehow, four or so assassins had sneaked past us and were heading for the motel, knifes and suppressed pistols drawn. Aldo that was shocking, the truly surprising thing was Victoria looked like he was surrendering. As the four men neared him, he smirked, and right when they were close enough he twisted the handle on his cane and slide the handle out, revealing a long, shining blade. In one quick motion he inserted the blade into the man in front of him, the blade going straight through the mans heart and out the other side, and left it there as he rolled back behind another assassin. As the three assassins aimed for him he grabbed the one in front of him by the head and cracked his neck, a sharp crunch noise was heard from afar. The interlopers shot multiple times trying to hit him, instead his used the now dead body to cover him as they tried to hit him and flank him. The poorly trained killers quickly ran out of bullets and when they went to reload Vic dropped the body and drawed his two revolvers and fire at the both of them, the hollow point bullet going straight through their throats and causing them to spasm on the ground as they tried to stop the bleeding. He carefully walked past the bodies, making sure not to get any blood on his suit, and pulled the bloodied sword out from the dead mans chest and wiped the blood of on one of the dead assassins clothes before holstering it and walking off.

"Fucking A, wonder if we can get one of those swords?" I asked as I watched Vic get behind cover, pull out his ancient rifle and start firing off rounds with a snipers precision.

"Screw the sword, I want one of those rifles, would look good on a mantelpiece." He replied as I saw four figures run up to us, one of them tripping over himself to get into cover.

"Don't look now Sunny side up, but those kids are coming this way." I said with slight annoyance as I continued to fire off grenade rounds at the incoming forces. I watched as those Hunters we meet crept up to the latest batch of lambs for the slaughter and killed them in barely a minute. They would grab one of the Blue Coats, use them as shields while they filled the other troops with bullets before stabbing their shield in the throat with a carved bone knife. David, I think his name was, seemed to be having way too much fun as he wiped some blood off his face and howled like a hyena as he and his fellow killers ran into the shadows, waiting for more prey.

"Shit, just my luck we get stuck with redshirts..." He said disgustedly as he kept his head down and got back to working on...Something. Next to him sat his toolbox, opened and disorganized, and in front of him was a small box like contraption with a tripod supporting it, two long barrels and two box magazines under each barrel. Amid the obvious parts there was various parts, pieces and gizmos that made the thing work. Anyone who looked at it could tell what it would do, but I had no idea how it would work.

"Ranger's Frog, Four Eyes, Poindexter and Roach reporting for duty sirs." Roach said, somewhat on edge.

"Reporting for-oh fucking shit!" I said aloud as I continued to look for a target.

"What? What's so bad about training?" Frog asked, keeping his head undercover and barely moving.

"We're being stuck with babysitting is what's the problem!" I shouted as I got more and more pissed at Victoria.

"Calm down man, could be worse." Sundown said, barely in the moment as Poindexter took more interest in his work then the fight.

"No, this is the worst possible situation! Fucking-Okay that felt good-Fucking babysitting!" I shouted again, only stopping to admire the effects of a tank round on a small group of people.

"honestly, this is pretty lax as far as assignments go. A bit of training here, yell some abuse there, it's just boot camp, what's your problem?" Poindexter said as he continued to watch Sundown work with slight amazement.

"That's the problem, it's too easy! Where's the excitement? Explosions! Monsters?! HOW COULD THIS GET AN-" My infuriated shouting was cut short as Sundown's little toy snapped, sending a various parts flying at me. The parts didn't render me unconscious, but tripping over a large brick and hitting the ground hard did.

"Oh fuck, not again..." Was the last thing I heard Sundown say as I went to sleepy land, whether he was worried about me or his pet project.

Somewhere
Sometime

"I want my...I want my own TV~..." Was the first thing I heard, the smooth, calm, grainy voice was soon followed the sound of a drum beat and then an intense guitar solo. Truly, the best way to wake up. My head was heavy like a bag of bricks yet my body surprisingly good. Opening my blue eyes, I did a quick scan of the room. Smelt of disinfectant and dirt, green tent walls, various stretchers with different bodies with different injuries, a bored guy near the entrance to the tent, faint rays of golden sunshine, people moaning in pain or laughing from some kinda drug...Yeap, it's the morning after the fight, we won, I'm in a medical tent...AND I FUCKING SLEPT THROUGH THE GODDAMN FIGHT!

"FFFFUUUUCCCCKKKK!" I shouted with contempt for everything as I jumped off my stretcher, then fall down to the ground as a nurse came up to me, plastic gloves on her olive hands and a blue surgical mask over her pale, tired face. She wore simple green army fatigues with a medical cap covering her hair.

"Dude, calm the fuck down, people are trying to sleep." She said, disinterested in my anger.

"What happened?! What did I miss?!" I asked, my anger replaced with genuine curiosity.

"Minimal casualties on our side, Outpost is ruined, the Blue Balls fell back into the ACT and the fight was kinda boring. I mean, we had two tanks, how many snipers and jeeps with turrets and men? It was more like a shooting range then an actual fight." She said disinterestedly as she surveyed the multiple injured.

"God damn...Can I leave or-"

"Just go, we're too busy with the actually hurt and aside from a bump on your head there was no damage done to you." She said as she went back to looking around.

"Coolio I guess..." I said as I walked past the sick or dying and out the tent, taking care to avoid the doctors and nurses.

The outside was a mess. After my eyes adjusted to the blinding light I was able to take in the facility. The gas station was fucked, the glass all broken and the left side of the building completely collapsed. The building was destroyed along with the long since empty gas pumps and concrete roof protecting said pumps from rain. The motel was mostly intact. A few rooms were smoldering piles of debris and others looked like they had been set on fire but there were still rooms for people to sleep in and knowing some people, they would sleep in the rubble anyway. The road was littered with blood, bullet shells, scorch marks and body parts being covered by tarps or discretely placed into black bags. The gate was painted with entrails and viscera, like a macabre painting, and the land outside looked like it was carpet bombed with all the destroyed vehicles, marks where tank rounds had hit and burnt corpses. The early morning sun displayed everything in a calm, vibrant orange, juxtaposing the gorgeous carnage. Everywhere people where either searching for working equipment, radioing for backup, identifying the dead or simply eating their breakfast. As I walked into the Motel car park, avoiding the various people running around, I saw Sheila up ahead.

The four recruits seemed to have dragged an old couch out from one of the ruined rooms, evident by Roach lazily resting on the left side of the couch, Four Eyes reading on the right and Poindexter sitting awkwardly in the middle, listing to something on his phone. Frog was lying on the ground staring up at the sky, humming along to the song being played on the radio. In the back of Sheila, Tycho was strumming along to said song with his acoustic guitar while Patches was scoping 30 cal. shells of the floor...And Sundown was cooking what looked like eggs and bacon in a pan on the small portable stove we brought with us, the smell of sizzling bacon and delicious eggs served to lift the smell of gunpowder and death.

"Hey princess! Enjoy your beauty sleep?" Sundown said with a hearty laugh as everyone looked up, aside from Patches who continued to curse and throw shells out of the car's back right door.

"Ha ha, go fuck yourself. My head feels like shit, hey Ty, you got some painkillers?" I asked as I sat down in the passenger side seat in Sheila.

"Na man, used then up before we left Fort Alice." He said honestly as he continued to play.

"Man, last night was EXTREME! I wish you were there to see it Flare, you would have seen the epitome of war!" Frog boasted loudly.

"Right, because 'the epitome of war' is you bitching about fighting and nearly shitting your pants." Four Eyes said with a smirk as Dexter and Roach crack up laughing.

"Can someone help me with this please? I'm gonna be here for awhile." Patches pleaded as I started rubbing my temples.

"Nope."

"Nada."

"No."

"hhhmmmm....Tempting but no." Frog, Four Eyes, Roach and Poindexter said in quick succession.

"I'm still recovering." I said as I faked a moan of pain.

"I'm playing my guitar, so I'm giving you moral support." Tycho said with a quick strum of his guitar.

"I'm cooking eggs...So no." Sundown said simply like he didn't need to elaborate.

"Gee, bunch a fucking dicks around here..."Patches mumbled angrily.

"What's the ETA on that bacon?" I asked hungrily, nearly drooling at the mouth.

"About five or so minutes...Man, crazy fucking night." Sundown said in a tired tone of voice.

"Yeah, that attack came out of nowhere. What I want to know is how did that assassin get into the compound and how were they able to bug out so fast?" Tycho asked with curiosity.

"My bullets are on an inside guy." Roach piped up as she continued to nearly fall asleep.

"A Blue Coat spy in the Rangers? Please, they're more likely to become a true democracy then get one of their members in our ranks." Poindexter said, scoffing at the idea of deception in the force.

"Well something happened, the attack was too prepared to be a random assault." Patches yelled from the drivers side seat.

"True that...I wonder if we can find any good salvage out there, there were a few old world trucks I saw." Four Eyes said with new vigor.

"Possibly, though knowing those fuckers they laid a few traps for people like you." Sundown added with a hint of caution.

"hm, a challenge huh? At least they'll make it a bit more interesting...Dex, you in?" Four Eyes asked, giving Poindexter a slight nudge with her shoulder as she dropped her book on the couch.

"I'll pass, it's far too early in the morning to do heavy lifting." He said disinterestedly as he went back to his phone. But just as she was about to walk off, we saw a tall shadow creep up, looking behind us in the direction of the motel we saw the shadow belonged to Victoria. He was whistling an old Australian song as he waltzed up to us with his rosewood rifle. Frog saluted him from the ground, roach stood up, saluted then collapsed back into the couch, Sundown and Tycho merely nodded at him, Patches saluted and walked up to him, Four Eyes and Dexter saluted then sat back down in their seats.

"At easy Rangers." Vic said with a small smile.

"With all due respect, what the fuck?" I asked as I pointed at the four rookies, who seemed to be slightly annoyed by me.

"If you're wondering why I dumped the job of training on you four, then you should know that I value you four and believe there is much you could teach, or scare into, these four recruits. Their good but far from disciplined and aldo you four aren't the most...Loyal of soldiers your combat prowess and military history speaks for itself...Besides, I didn't want you four to get too comfortable with that desk job back in Fort Alice." He said with a charming and honest smile.

"I can't argue with that, we are pretty great." Tycho said, tuning his electric blue guitar.

"Um, Sir? What are our orders?" Frog asked as he sat up from the cracked road.

"Your orders, ladies and gentlemen, is to go along with the scouting party, those Americans went somewhere and we need to know where." vic said as he looked over the compound, a flash of pain crossed his face as he surveyed the dead.

"And we're to keep these four alive? You know we don't have a good record of keeping people alive right?" Sundown said, pointing at the four rookies with a spatula.

"Hey, we can look out for ourselves in a fight." Four Eyes said defensively.

"Yeah, when they got me around their safe as can be! My mom taught me everything I need to know." Frog boasted with a confident smirk.

"That's right, the Blue Coats are too busy trying to shot your skinny ass as you run around the field to focus on us." Four Eyes rebutted as she went back to reading.

"Hey!"

"As I was saying, the scout party will only be gone for an hour as an emission has been sighted near the ACT boarder and the Blue Coats aren't crazy enough to go into the exclusion zone." Vic informed us.

"Any sightings on that supposed super weapon?" I asked. Curiously, Poindexter seemed to perk up at the sound of a super weapon.

"No, we believe they're saving it for a bigger assault. The purpose of this mission is to find them and see what we're working with, do not engage them unless necessary, you'll be outnumbered and outgunned if you do." Vic informed us as Tycho and Roach nodded in understatement.

"Get in, take a few pictures, get out. Simple, when we leaving?" Roach asked nonchalantly.

"Seven, you got an hour. Meet them at the gate, they'll provide transport for you four, and you Sierra can bring Sheila if you wish. Be careful out there, don't do something foolish. Dismissed." Vic said as he walked off towards the motel.

"Amazing, out of the proverbial frying pan and into the fire..."Poindexter said, clearly not wanting to go.

"...Eggs anyone?" Sundown asked as he put some food on a plate for himself and more food onto other plates.

Tycho
7:10 AM
Near the ACT Exclusion Zone

"Good morning to all you faithful listeners out there! This is DeeJay Dundee and It's another burnt-out atomic day here in the Australian Wastelands and we're keeping it cool here at our bunker! The days gonna be hot, as always, and no rainfall whatsoever, as always. The coastal areas are gonna be a cool 23 degrees but the inland is gonna be a blistering 41 degrees, keep inside and keep heat stroke away, that shit sucks. Good news people! We've discovered a cure for radioactive sterilization, America and Australia are at peace, the infected are being taught how to love and there's global peace...And now the real news. Anonymous sources have reported various sightings of American forces near the ACT Exclusion Zone, what are they doing there? We don't know, maybe they're looking for oil or some crap. We've also got unconfirmed sightings of giant sea monsters, is this proof that the lock ness monster might be real? Find out later when we interview a lucky Chinese trader who got away from one. And lastly, an increase in crop production and booze making has given the once ghost farming town of Red Fields a boom in security and trading, is this the start of another Fort Alice? Or another Sunshine Haven? Find out later, on FAR: The home of old world music and new world sensations!" A thick Australian accent shouted excitedly over the car radio before a calming, old song played. Without companies and groups buying up ad space the radio was just music, jokes and interviews.

"Man, who the fuck leaked all this?" I asked from the passenger's seat, confused as to how someone leaked something that happened a few hours ago.

"I don't know, maybe someone with radio clearance was a shit, maybe some random civ watched it all, we probably won't find out." Sundown said as he ducked back inside the car briefly, it was his turn to man the gun. We were a part of a small convoy of three armoured jeeps sent out to find where the Blue Coats where hiding so we could wipe them out, and so far as we drived down the empty dirt road with nothing but empty fields to our sides, I knew this was gonna be boring as all hell.

"Hey, Sierra, you heard the radio broadcast?" I heard Roach ask over Sheila's CB radio. I picked up the small mic and proceeded to talk into it while resting my head on the window.

"This is Tycho, yeah we heard it. When this is over we're going to have to have a chat with Dundee, that was meant to be secret and there were no towns for miles at that outpost." I replied, still on edge from last night.

"I'm tellin' ya, a spy's in our barracks!" Frog shouted, muffled by their car's noises.

"And I'm telling you the odds of an American sneaking into our ranks is astronomical." Poindexter argued.

"Shut up you three I need to drive." Four Eyes said, followed shortly by the car behind up swerving a little to shake the people inside.

"Fucking Christ! Some warning would've been nice!" Frog said with a slight pain in his voice.

"Knock it off you four, we need to stay alert, we don't know what's out here." The car in front of us said, filled with a few anti-tank personal if worse came to pass. We came upon an intersection, the one leading to the left was blocked off since it lead to Canberra so that just left the straight road, which was flanked on both sides by dead trees and shrubs, and a long road leading into a field.

So, which road do we take?" I asked the car in front of us.

"We got little under an hour before we need to get out of the area and we still have heaps of ground to cover...Sierra Team, go right, Freakshow Team, you're with us." The leader instructed.

"Wait, why are we the people with less backup?" Flare asked, kinda suspicious.

"Because we have anti-armour munitions and need more protection, their recruits that need more protection, and you four are used to operating alone." The leader said, his gravely voice sounding a bit annoyed at the hold up.

"He makes a valid point." Roach said plainly over the radio.

"Fine, but if you die it's not our fault...Sierra out." Patches said as he indicated right and turned as the car in front accelerated away with the car full of Rookies closely behind. As we drove down the lonely road, we noticed it was slowly, but surely, starting to rain...A VERY bad omen. The dirt road was starting to get rockier and bumpier as the car shook and shuddered from the new obstacles. We would occasionally have to drive around a giant hole in the road, a desecrated corpse or a collapsed tree but aside from the never ending fields and infrequent hills, there was nothing out there. As the rain got heavier and heavier and the roar of thunder got louder and closer, we realized we would have to turn back soon.

"Fucking hell, the radio didn't say shit about a storm, that emission must be real close...Screw it, I'm contacting the other cars, we need to leave...Hey, Team Leader, Freakshow, anyone out there?...This is Sierra, is anyone out there?" I asked the mic, all the CB radio gave me in return was static.

"Dude, anyone else getting a bad vibe from all this?" Flare asked as he scanned the horizon looking for anything. As I went back to the CB radio, a loud, shrill ear piercing shriek resonated from the CB radio and the stereo. Pat almost swerved off the road while I and the other two held our ears. It didn't take long before the noise stopped, but both the radio and stereo were now dead.

"Ah god I think I just got tinnitus...Was that some kinda EMP?" Sundown asked as he tried massaging his head.

"I don't know but fuck was that surprising...We should head back, if the nearing emission and EMP wasn't warning enough that certain-" As Patches was explaining why we were about to turn around, we felt a loud bang resonate in the car and then felt the front left side of the car slam into the ground and scrape along the ground.

"Oh fuck, ambush!" Sundown yelled as we looked outside the car. Somewhere in the fields someone was sniping us and troopers seem to burst from the ground as people hiding sprung their trap.

"Oh shit, everyone get to cover it's show time! Gas masks on!" Flare shouted as we got out of the car, gun in hand, gas masks up and ran for cover at the side of the road, making sure to avoid the sniper. Me and Sundown were on the left, myself hiding behind a large rock and him behind a turned over car, and on the right Patches and Flare were keeping cover behind a large rock as well.

"Sun, keep them off me, I'm gonna look for that scumbag!" I shouted over the pouring rain, the storm was close and if we didn't hurry we would be wiped out by it.

"Got it! Eat fire bitch!" Sundown shouted as he loaded a few home made dragons breath rounds into his gun and fired them off, lighting a few small fires in front of our cover and lighting the charging soldiers up. I sneakily raised the scope over the rock and searched...Nothing, grass, rock, nothing...Bingo. I saw a small flash of light, the glass in the snipers scope, and a small figure moving in the distance as he tried to reload the rifle, frantically adjusting the rifle. I breathed in lightly, marked my target and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out for miles as it hit it's target.

"Sniper down, someone get that tire fixed!" I shouted as I turned my attention on the approaching enemies, most of which taking cover in the fields.

"On it!" Sundown said as he run behind his cover and to the boot. Curiously, he took out his heavy suitcase and also one of the spare tires and the tools needed.

"What the hell is your suitcase gonna do?!" Flare shouted as Sun opened the box and pulled out what looked like a small turret.

"This! After you got knocked on your ass I was able to fix it, nows a good time to beta test it since it's raining blue men!" Sundown shouted as he pressed some buttons and placed a small camo tarp over it to keep the rain off the machine. He ran up to me and placed it just outside my cover, quickly getting behind cover as a bullet grazed his hand.

"Gah ya son of a...Here, this is a controller for that thing, you move this stick to rotate it and press this button to fire, simple. It's only got two boxes of ammo so be careful!" He informed as he ran back to the car and got to work on replacing the tire, not caring if the rain beats him down. I looked over the cover and picked my targets, adjusting the smallish machine I pressed down on the green button. I thought the thing looked simple, a black box with a small antenna sticking out the top, a black joystick like thing to maneuver it and a big green button to fire, not really complex, but as the gun let loose and I heard the anguished screams of men as they fell down when a hollow point bullet pierced their chests I knew this thing would sell like hot-cakes.

"Shit! When can I get one of those?!" Patches asked as he reloaded his rifle then leaned out of cover to fire, taking down five or so people with accurate, controlled bursts.

"Still in beta Patty, gotta work out the kinks." He answered with a slight huff as he got to work on taking the blown out tire off.

"Kinks?!" I asked as I looked for more targets.

"You know, sparks when the parts move together, manual reload, possible fire if overheated, the usual!" He shouted back as he finally got the tire off and threw it aside.

"Still, can't complain when it causes that much damage!" Flare shouted happily as he grabbed one of the flashbangs at his side, let it cook for a second then threw it over the cover.

"Shut your eyes boys!" Flare said a second before a big white flash appeared. While the ten or fifteen men hit by the light were dazed and blinded, Flare fired off a grenade round right in the middle of them, killing most of them instantly and fatally wounding the others.

"ETA on that, fuck! That tire?" Patches asked as he almost got shot in the ear.

"I don't know! I've never had to change a tire while getting shot at!" Sundown shouted, he sounded worried, annoyed and pissed all at once.

"Just hurry...Oh FUCK!" I said as all fighting stopped when a loud, green, enormous explosion rocked the sky. The clouds twisted and warped to the green swirling light, the rain picked up in intensity and pelted the ground like a missile, the ominous and mysterious light changed hues and brightness in an instant but always seemed to be green. The ground shaked in fear and caused trees to fall over and men to stumble.

"EMISSION! FUCKING RUN!" We heard a soldier shout, his hardened, masculine voice filled with terror as he and his friends ran for whatever cover they could find.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! That tire Sundown?!" Flare shouted in fear as he gave up on the fight and looked around the empty road hoping for a miracle to drive by at mach speed.

"It's too late...That storms right on top of us! What do we do?!" I shouted as I ran back and forth, unsure of what to do aside from panic.

"I'm almost done, Tycho come help me!" Sundown shouted as he raised the tire up and was about to secure it, but as I ran up to help him, a great gust of wind blew me back behind the rock and into the field. I rolled on the ground, over dead bodies and only stopped when the wind stopped.

"Ty! You okay?!" Flare shouted as he held onto the car for dear life, picking up Sundown's weird sentry bot when it blew into him.

"Everyone, get inside quick!" Patches shouted as he got into the drivers seat and braced himself. It was unlikely it would change anything but where he died...But anything's better than nothing. Sundown kept trying to put the tire in place but it became obvious he wouldn't be able to finish in time. Giving up he picked up the tools and tire and put it back in the boot and picked up his machine when Flare gave it too him. As I groggily got off the ground and ran to the car I felt a strange, pulsing sensation, like someone was tickling and pinching every part of my body. I began to run with double the effort but I felt unnaturally dizzy and fell to the ground. As the wind and light picked up and the roaring storm raged on. I faintly saw Sundown fall over, cradling his project, and hid behind the rock. Flare tried to get into the car but was blown down the road by the next big gust of wind and it looked like Patches fainted at the wheel.

As I laid there on the ground I felt something foreign, fear. I wasn't ready for this, I still had so much to do, things I never got to say, places I never got to see. I wanted to do so much and to die here, in a dirty field in the middle of nowhere was terrifying. I tried to crawl towards the car, too weak to do anything as I felt my energy drain from my body as the green light began to wash over me. I collapsed on my back, staring up at the rain filled black sky. Out of breath, terrified, but not alone or in pain...

"I...I can't...I can't die...Here..."I said with fleeting strength. As the world dissolved before my eyes and was replaced with green and clouds, I was faintly aware that I was glowing...Everything was green, dark and loud. I felt the air leave my lungs suddenly and I felt a sharp pain as I gasped for air. Then, just as it suddenly was disorientingly bright, I felt a lifting sensation then nothing. The world was pitch black, either that or my eyes were closed, and there was no noise aside from the ringing in my ears.

'This is death huh?...Fuck...How did it all go wrong?...' Death wasn't as the movies or novels imagined it. Time didn't slow down and my life didn't flash before my eyes...Instead, it was just a flash of light then nothing. It felt like I was floating and swimming all at once in a weightless vacuum...I don't know how long I floated in that empty void, but suddenly, I felt something. A cold pain in my back and the feeling of wind blasting against my face and the howl of a strong wind. I gasped for air and my lungs were filled with frozen wind. I was cold and in pain, but alive...I think. I had no strength whatsoever and couldn't bring myself to move...Instead I opened my eyes and stared up...Everything was white and blurry. I felt snow assault my face and the feeling of snow melting below my warm body...I was in a blizzard somewhere, somehow, and I was in immense pain.My hoodie kept my head slightly warmer then the rest of my body and the gas mask helped slightly but it would only be a matter of time. I figured I would die from the extreme temperatures but before I could resign myself to death for real, I heard something.

"Tell us your name or else!" I heard a strange voice yell. It sound warped and distorted, like someone took a normal voice and filtered it through some kinda voice modulator.

"I ain't tell you bugs anything!" I heard another voice shout in defiance. His voice was strong and confident, like he could face the world, yet also young. Most likely belonged to a young militant or private guard. I heard various noises that sounded like punches and kicks but their was something off about it, I also heard the same voice grunt in pain so it didn't take a genius to figure out someone was being beaten.

"Stop, stop, stop! We're wasting our time! I say we take him back to the hive for proper interrogation..." The first voice said with a sinister laugh and the laugh was echoed by at least six other discorded voices. I heard the sound of harmonious steps that got closer and closer till I could almost count the people patrolling. It got to the point where it sounded like they were right on top of me before they stopped walking.

"Commander, look! What is that?" I heard a younger voice shout, bafflement in his voice. The walking got so close that they might as well have been standing on my ears. Even when they were right above me I could barely make them out, my eyes were so blurry and pained that I thought I had gone partially blind.

"I don't know...It's clothes are foreign and that mask is unlike any other...But this, this I am familiar with..." I heard the original voice say with awe and confusion.

"What is it? I heard the young voice ask.

"It looks like a much bigger version of his majesties machine...And look, on his side! A near duplicate!" The voice shouted in amazement. I was drained and too beaten to talk but I tried to raise my fist at them.

"It's awake sir!"

"I know, shut up...Sleep creature, sleep...When he falls unconscious tie him and leave him with the pony, it's going to be a long walk back to the Hive but the King will be pleased with what we found..." I saw a faint, green glow and then my fatigue was duplicated tenfold and before long, I was unconscious again, though this time I dreamed of bizarre and alien creatures unlike any I had seen before, and it shocked me to the core...

Flare

I remembered the sensation of tumbling then being knocked unconscious but then I awoke to a very familiar feeling, heat. I slowly woke up and groaned in pain...

"Fucking crazy dream...It felt so...Okay, what the fuck?!" I began to say as I lifted myself up, my body sore and aching but good to go if I had to...But then I looked around the rolling, stone infested dessert and realized it was going to be one of those days...Sand and rocks for miles on end, and only the occasional stone mountain to break up the monotony.

"Fuck...Where am I?! I remember...I remember a bunch of fire and people, nothing new, and then I remember...HOLY FUCK DID I SURVIVE AN EMISSION?!" I shouted to no one but rocks as I tried to figure out how I ended up in a dessert.

"Okay...I survived a radioactive storm...SOMEHOW, and ended up here...But where is here? I know this isn't an Australian dessert, I've never seen god damn tumble weeds like that!" I shouted at a huge brown weed that floated past me on a hollowing wind. Looking around I appeared to at a crossroads of sorts.

"Four roads leading nowhere...Oh hey a sign!" I shouted in slight joy at a tall wooden sign post...That was eroded to hell. I couldn't make out the names but the arrows and kilometer distance was still readable.

"Okay, this is all gonna take awhile but THAT I can do in a day or so...If it's still early morning, which it's not...Okay, time to walk through a dessert with a trench coat on...Yay..."I said with no humour in my voice as I walked down a dry, dusty road, taking down my plain gas mask, letting my pale face breath clearly and adjusted my black cowboy hat, letting some of my red hair fall down.

"...To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day~..." I sang aloud then continued to whistle as I walked down my lonely road.

Sundown

"Gaaaahhhhhh..." I moaned in pain, I felt great floating, but then when I came down and smacked body first into concrete...Not so great. I could move, but it hurt...I slowly opened my eyes and looked around...I was in a god damn sewer. The place smelt like a sewer, the water was green, like a sewer, and their was SHIT floating in the water...HOW did I end up in a sewer?!

"Fuck my life...Okay, Survived a raid, survived an ambush then survived an emission, I think, and now I'm in a sewer...Great..." I slowly got up and rested on the wall next to me and looked around. The walls were stone and looked old...So I probably wasn't in Australia anymore, and if the noises from the grate way above my head was anything to go by I was in a crowded town of some kind...I heard people talking, people walking, carts moving, horses clopping and general noises...But no indicator of where I was. Looking on the ground I saw my shotgun and turret. But as I bent over to pick them up I heard a noise behind me. I reached for my pistol and turned around but was too late as I felt something slam into my head hard. I was on the ground again, disorientated and my ears were ringing loudly.

"What in Tartarus is this thing? It's not Equestrian, that much I know..." I heard a heavily accented voice ask quizzically. His accent was harsh, rough yet also noble and rich. It sounded European, possibly French or German? The voice itself was rough and deep, like a warriors, yet the accent also gave him a more sophisticated edge.

"Don't know, don't care. Take it with us if you want, it has interesting tools." Another voice said, this one female. The voice was smooth, calming and majestic, thanks in part to the mysterious accent. I felt something lift me, with much effort and then I felt myself being lowered onto something feathery and hard.

"woah, the thing weighs a ton..." The first voice said with a slight strain.

"Yeah, I'm feeling it. Come on, we got work to do..."The female's voice and small laugh was the last thing I heard before I fell back into unconsciousness.

Patches

I woke up feeling...Strange, like someone had shocked me. I slowly rose from my resting position and stretched my back, grunting from the release, and opened my eyes. I was in Sheila, that much I knew...But what was outside was beyond bizarre. I was in some kind of forest. The trees were tall, old and dark brown, the leaves a healthy green and the ground was an unusually light shade of brown mixed in with the grass and occasional shrub. I had no idea what time it was due to the density of the trees leaves but I assumed it was still day. I was in some small clearing with a small road behind and in front of me but the forest was so closely pack that I would have no idea where to go...

"Okay...This is...Disturbing...This can't be an Australian forest...So where on this brown Earth em I?" I asked...No one. Realizing something, I did a quick scan of the car...

"Oh fuck..."I opened the door and hopped out, feverishly looking for anyone.

"Hello?! Is anyone there? Tycho, Flare, Sundown?!...ANYONE?!" I shouted, the only response being a scared animal running away somewhere in the woods. I panicked and searched for a trail or a campfire or anything that would tell me if my team had for some reason left me behind.

"Come on guys, this isn't funny! Where the fuck are you?!" I shouted, pulling my hair out in frustration as I ran about the clearing, looking for anything...

"Fuck...The boot! They wouldn't have left without their shit!" I shouted with sudden clarity. I opened the boot, and was shocked and disappointed at the same time...Their supplies were still there. Aside from the stuff we never left without, it was all there.

"No...No they wouldn't leave me...We're friends! They need me! Where are they?!" I shouted to the heavens, hoping they would suddenly walk out of the treeline.

"No...No they didn't leave me...Their somewhere nearby...Right?! They have to be! HELLO?!" I screamed in desperation, hoping for anyone to find me. My face now wet with tears of fear running down my shallow face, I collapsed on the ground, trying to calm myself.

"Get ahold of yourself! They'll come back! They won't leave you!" I shouted aloud to myself.

"How the hell do you know that? They could be dead!" I rebutted, genuine fear in my voice.

"Those three are a cut above, they wouldn't die, not without you." I tried to reassure myself, but it was failing miserably.

"No, I know they've left me behind before, I know they're not coming this time..." I said, my breaths becoming faster and faster as I struggled to keep calm.

"Listen to me! Deep breaths, calm down and think! You can't think straight when you get like this!"

"Okay...Yeah..."

"In...Out..."

"In...Out..."

"In...Out..."

"In...Out..."

"In...Out..." I repeated until I was calm enough to think straight...I wasn't alone, I know I wasn't, I just had to find them...I won't be alone, never.

Blowing up in your face - Chapter 1

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Waking up in a cell - Chapter 1

I slowly woke up to the sound of muffled yells of pain and laughing. With a groan of agony, I raised my head and looked around. Through the blurry haze in my eyes I was able to make out a cell of some kind. The walls were pitch black and shiny, like they were recently sprayed with water. The door was made of some kind of green metal that looked like someone had been pounding on it from the inside. The floor was cold and had various odd coloured stains that could be dried blood. This was an all too familiar yet alien place: a cell.

Sighing, I tried to stand up. My muscles ached and my brain felt like it was boiling from the inside. I got halfway up before something seemed to clamp around my wrists and neck, violently throwing me back to the ground. Shocked and disoriented I checked my wrists to see what the hell happened. A translucent bracelet was placed on each wrist that glowed a deep silver. Attached to each bracelet was a long, twisted chain that led to the wall behind me. On the bumpy wall, wedged into the stone, was a long silver rod with pale green lettering of unknown origin that seemed to glow and whisper words into my head. I couldn't see it, but I assumed there was a larger restraint on my neck.

I had many questions, and none of them could be explained. The closet thing to an answer I could think up would be that I was in an American cell that was placed in some mine, and that these bracelets were some prototype tech that they'd salvaged and decided to use it to capture me instead of study and mass produce it, which would be fucking stupid. I'd decided I'd been drugged to make me complacent and this was all a hallucination. Deciding that since I was lucid enough to look at myself I'd best check what they'd confiscated from me.

My blue lucky hoodie and black shirt was still there, though they'd stolen my bulletproof vest. My pants and shoes were still there, my knee pads and added protected was gone. My necklace, badge and ring were gone, the pricks probably decided to melt them down for scrap metal. My backpack and supplies were obviously gone and I could tell by the fact that my vision wasn't impaired that my gas mask and its cover was taken as well. My cloak and bandoleer was gone, meaning they'd taken my gun and had probably stolen my knife as well. At least they were nice enough to leave me with my clothes, I suppose.

Silently cursing ever once in awhile, I waited until they would send someone to interrogate me. Aside from the sounds of someone being brutally beaten a few rooms away, there was nothing. After what felt like hours, and I'd counted all the sharp parts of the wall and oddities in the room, I heard the assault stop and a rusty door being opened, causing a loud screeching noise to reverberate outside the room. Silently, I waited as the sounds of armoured footsteps and a body being dragged near me. As it got to its loudest point, it stopped right outside my room. With a loud click, the door opened and I saw my kidnappers.

It would be simple to call them horse bugs, and I will call them that. They were weird, inhumane mutations of a horse. They were small, only coming up to just above my waist and they were very skinny, like they'd barely eaten anything in the last two weeks. They all wore black and silver armour that protected their slender, bony barrels, and they had twisted hooves that had large, perfectly circular holes running up and down their appendages and their short necks. Their armour seemed to flow and glide with the shape of their bodies, making it look like their armour was made of liquid metal.

Their heads were fucking weird. Their eyes glowed a faint blue, a slightly whiter shade of blue placed where their iris would be. Their mouths were lined with fanged teeth that sticked out of their mouths. They had silver hair that seemed to glow faintly, almost like magic. They had messed up horns that looked like someone took a hole puncher to a unicorn's head, their horns were twisted and had various holes in them. If it weren't for the dangerously sharp tip I would think they were useless.

There were four of this bug horses, two of them held spears with black wooden handles and emerald green tips, and the other two were dragging a normal looking horse...With wings.

This one was clearly in bad shape. Blood poured from his mouth and various wounds. His light bronze fur and wings were caked in various fluids, mostly his blood. Unlike the bug horses he was wearing nothing, giving me a decent look at the guy. He was taller then the bugs, coming up to my stomach, and had a fairly toned body for a horse. He had long two tone blue hair that was matted in sweat and sticked to his face, obscuring his blackened eyes. His light blue irises were bordered by blood shot veins and seemed to struggle to remain open. His legs were in bad shape, looking like they were broken in various places, just like his wings. Without medical attention I'd wager he'd be dead within the hour. His raspy breaths were the only thing that showed he was still alive. The guards carrying him threw him towards me, landing a few feet in front of me and to the left.

"Don't try anything, we'll be back shortly." One of the guards said with a mono-tone voice before him and his buddies stepped outside and shut the door. So, these hallucinations talk as well...Great. With nothing else to do I turned my attention to the ragged horse. He seemed content to lie on his back and stare at the barren roof.

"So...What....are you in for?" He said between breaths. It sounded like a joke but I couldn't tell. His voice was youthful, energetic, yet clearly pained. I didn't reply, not wanting to address my fantasies.

"Silent type, huh? Fine by me." He rhetorically asked, splitting his sentences with a bloody cough. He slowly backed himself against a bed frame and sat up. We sat there awkwardly for awhile, him either coughing up blood and bile or breathing heavily. Soonish, we heard the door loudly unlock and we both turned to face it. In stepped the same four guards who now stood much taller and moved with a purpose, two of them standing on either side of the door as a new guy walked in.

"Buck, this guy again..." My made-up cell mate said bitterly.

"Now, now Flash, there's no need for hostility. After all, you were the one being uncooperative." The new guy said. He was similar in colour and shape to the guards, only this one was nearly as tall as me, only being half a foot shorter, and had long, flowing silver hair that reached down to his weird, see-through bug wings. He, like the guards, had a silver tail of the same hair type, though his was much longer and seemed more colourful. His horn jutted proudly from his head and covered upwards slightly, making it look more like a broken scimitar blade then a horn. He spoke with a smooth, condescending tone that promised pain.

"Now then, I'm glad to see you’re awake! We're dreadfully sorry about the accommodations, as soon as we have a vacancy in the castle we'll find you a proper room. In case you don't know who I am, I am King Silver Vein, ruler of the Silver Hive. You are?" He introduced himself with an obvious lie. If he wanted to be nice he wouldn't have thrown me in a cell with Menstrual Mouth.

"..." I answered.

"You were asked a question, I expect an answer." Silver said with an annoyed voice as he quietly huffed.

"..."

"Fine, act like a simpleton, we'll repeat the question later in a less civil way...What are you? Did you come from Equestria? Beyond the Broken Sea?" He threatened with a loud sigh as the guards seemed to chuckle before he asked his second and third question.

"..."

"You know, this is becoming increasingly infuriating..." He said angrily. Blood Face seemed to be enjoying the show, not that any of this mattered, since it's all in my head.

"If you won't answer my questions I will get...Less likable. If you won't tell me your name, what you are, and where you came from, then perhaps you can answer me this...Where did you find these?" He said, barely containing his rage as he fidgeted on the spot before he made my guns appear out of thing fucking air. They floated in a shinny, clear magical aura above the ground.

"This one in particular is familiar to me." He said while pointing at my revolver. "It seems similar to my machine, though slightly bigger and shinier. You see, I found mine while traveling the tundra, and when I found it it was in a poor condition: Rusted metal, jammed tube and only had three working explosive things in it. Not to mention the damaging magic radiating off it. A few hours of cleansing and it was fine but I still had no idea where it came from. We found a small, green cardboard box of explosive cylinders but we still had no idea where they came from. I implore you to alleviate my curiosity, what is it?" He explained as he played with my sidearm, I silently prayed he'd shot himself in the head or something.

"You should probably answer him, this won't end well for you." Bronzy said cautiously as he stared at me.

"Listen to him. I have the power to make your life very difficult, very easily. What is it, and where did it come from, I won't ask thrice." Silver said as he starred at me, his cold eyes saying 'tell more or I'll sodomize you with a drill'.

Sighing in defeat, I breathed in deeply and coughed loudly, drawing everyone's attention to me...And loudly burped.

"GGGGAAAAHHHHH!...Fine, if you’re so content to hold your secrets so close to your chest, then we must simply pry them from you....See you tomorrow, Monster, we're going to get to know each other very well soon enough..." He shouted in fury before collecting himself and, quite freakishly, smiled at me.

"..."

"Oh, and here." Silver Turd said as he did...Something to Blue Eyes, causing him to cry out in pain and surprise as his body seemed to shift and his legs repaired themselves with a loud series of snaps.

"I don't want you to bleed out just yet, there's still so much I can do to you...See you both soon. I promise it'll be fun!" Silver said with a devilish chuckle as he and his henchmen walked out of the cell.

"Bucking plothole...I gotta hand it to you, you got balls, whoever you are, just hope he doesn't take yours away to get back at you. You got a name?" He said with a small laugh.

"...Tycho." I answered truthfully, deciding this was going to be a very boring high if I ignore my fantasies.

"Huh, odd name, is it Griffic? My name is Captain Flash Sentry, just call me Flash." He said as he offered me his hoof in a...Handshake which I begrudgingly accepted. Noting that his fur felt VERY life-like I hoped to whatever gods still existed that this was a dream.

So a Ranger walks into a bar... Chapter 1

As I whistled and singed a jaunty tune, the sun burning above me like it was trying to set me and this bloody wasteland on fire, I couldn't help but admire the scenery though. Unlike the radioactive, blood stained, lunatic and fun filled wastelands of Post-collapse Australia, this placed seemed 'normal'. Large stone mesas and sand dunes as far as the eye could see, a fluffy cloud filled sapphire sky, random tumble weeds blowing by in a cool wind, the sound of birds squawking in the distance and the soft red dirt trail felt well traveled under my black boots. All in all, if it weren't for the burning sun causing me to sweat more then a Plain Walker, I'd call this pleasant...Which bothered me. This all felt too safe, like I was being tricked into a sense of safety.

"Okay...Where's the bandit conveys or Infected hordes? I've been walking for, what, half a day? I should be shooting something by now..." I asked myself as I kept walking, slightly pissed that I couldn't vent my pissed off-ness. Obviously, the Blues had somehow planned this.

"Separating us by...Using a radioactive storm was clever, but it takes more then massive radiation poisoning and hurricane-like winds to kill Flare! I'm un-fucking-stoppable!" I declared with an almost insane smile and voice to the empty landscape, the only response being a lone tumble weed rolling by on it's own little quest, going who knows where. Despite the off putting calmness and my confidence, the quiet was still freaking me out. With nothing else to do, I kept walking. The afternoon light faded to an evening glow surprisingly fast, the clouds and mountains offering decent shade for my exhausted, bed needing body. As I slowly walked towards the top of the hill I saw a bunch of...Things lying in the dirt. Approaching them cautiously with my grenade launcher ready to rain fire, I examined the things left rotting on the dirt road.

They were...Massive, furry, bloody and looked like big cows. All of them probably stood around six or seven feet tall when they weren't feeding the worms, they all had horns pointed in different ways, in varying states of messed up and looked sharp enough to stab someone. Their heads were covered with different shades of hair in different weird, kinda tribal ways and all of their once useful bodies were protected with crappy leather armour painted with shitty red and blue lines in messed up patterns. They looked armed with a bunch of weird clubs and axes, if their scattered, broken and old looking sticks were anything to go by. Along with the clear signs of death like decomposing flesh, maggots and a lack of breathing, they all had various wounds in their bodies, mostly in the head.

"What the flying fuck are these things?" I muttered to myself as I nudged one of them with the barrel of my gun. "A new type of infected?...Has to be, no way anything likethis existed before the bombs dropped." I continued, quickly cheeking them for anything useful. They kinda looked like Minotaurs from those shitty, old books Pat reads.

"Empty canteens, pieces of gold fucking A, some crappy binoculars which look busted, some creepy bone idols-aha! A map!" I cried softly with a smile as I looted the only useful things I could find. The map was written on some old dusty paper and the landmarks were nothing like anything I'd ever seen but it was a start... A terrible one.

"Okay...If I'm reading this right then there should be a town right over this here hill...Probs filled with the people that killed you freaks huh?" I estimated then questioned the corpse with a smirk. Cautiously, I walked up to the tip of the hill and looked around. To the north, about thirty minutes away if he walked, was a large, barricaded old town that looked like it came stirght from the Wild West. The town was a mix of weirdly pastel colours, crappy wooden buildings. A long and probably badly built barricade surrounded the village. circling the quaint looking town in the middle of scenic nowhere were scotch marks, bodies and other gross shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something was up, and if the fortified town and fucked up dead things weren't enough, some prick tried to shoot me with a rifle, the only warning I had was something moving behind a small hill and a flash of light reflecting off of glass. Thinking quickly, I dived behind a rock to my left as a bullet soared near me. The loud bang rang out for miles and I knew he knew where I was.

"Fucking snipers, always cowards hiding where I can't throttle them..." I muttered with hate as I opened my gun and removed the frag round inside, replacing it with a smoke grenade and getting ready to run. The cover between me and the rocks surrounding me were pretty scarce and if I wanted to circle around this asshat I'd have to run while he can't see me, or get filled with more lead then a pencil. As I waited for him to stop firing, I rested my coat covered back against the heated rock and hoped he didn't have a grenade and a good throwing arm.

"Come on...Come on...Choke on this you fuck!" I said to myself before firing a grenade, hitting it's mark halfway to his position, making it impossible for him or her to see me. Like a bat outta hell, I ran for the next set of rocks and kept going while I could hear the gunman cursing loudly. The ground was slightly uneven, causing me to almost trip over the small rocks, debris and some ugly looking rat thing but I was able to get behind a rock, directly to the left of the prick's cover. From here I could clearly hear the fucker.

"Come on...Where'd that varmint go? Aw shucks, this ain't good." I heard a REALLY Southern sounding guy say. Grabbing my desert eagle, as I wasn't crazy enough to use a 'nade launcher right in his face, I slowly crept up on the guy while making sure I didn't step on anything. I could slightly see the barrel of a rifle sticking out on one side of the rocks through a crack barely big enough for someone to fit their arm through, and if the shakiness was anything to go by then this guy either was shitting himself scared or had no idea how to handle a gun. As I went around the otherside, thankful that there wasn't any large rocks or things to trip me up or leaves for me to step on, I noticed...A big, yellow two toned tail...

'Please let it be some dumbshit furry taping stuff on his ass and not some new mutant, I can't handle two in one day...' I silently prayed as I turned around the corner and looked at my would be assassin...He was a fucking horse.

On the ground, handling a rifle awkwardly, was a yellow, stetson wearing horse with a picture of an apple tattooed on its ass. It was yellow with a slightly darker shade on his tail, wore an ugly brown stetson hat like mine but not cool, a weird horse jacket, some metal plates on his...Legs, chest and back? I knew nothing about horse anatomy since it was useless now that most of them were fucked up thanks to all the shit in the world. All in all, this Southern horse, with a picture of an ass on its butt, wearing a hat, jacket and metal plating protection and using what looked like a god damn M40 rifle was probably the fifth weirdest thing I'd seen...How the fuck does a horse use a rifle?!

Stopping myself from having a brain hemorrhage from the sheer lack of sense anything made but reasoning it away as drugs or psychological warfare, I raised my pistol and pointed it at the back of his head.

"Alright prick, turn around. Slowly." I ordered, causing him to jolt and let out a small 'ep'. Without moving his body, he looked back at me, fear in his green, anime like eyes and turned around. As he did so I kicked the rifle away from him and starred him down while he raised his...Hooves in the universal sign of surrender. Strapped to his right hoof was what looked like a prosthetic finger carved out of wood and strapped on with a leather band or something.

"Well...You don't look like no Minotaur..." He said simply with a small chuckle.

'Great, the horse speaks.' I thought to myself, trying very hard not to freak out. "Okay Mister Ed, you're gonna answer a few questions of mine and then I'll decide what to do with you, deal?" I asked, never taking my eyes off him.

"Doesn't sound like I got much choice partner."

"No, you don't." I replied simply as he huffed and nodded.

"One: Where am I?" I asked, causing him to look at me with a raised eyebrow and confused expression.

"Equestria, more specifically beautiful appaloosa Sir." He said clearly.

"Two:Who are you and why were you shooting at me?" I asked.

"Well, my name's Braeburn and I thought you were a Minotaur, sorry about that by the by." He said, with a small grin as he apologized.

"Quick tip to staying alive bud, DON'T fucking shot at me. Third:What the hell are those dead cow things?" I asked, he seemed flabbergasted again.

"Well, if you were walking from the South then you must have seen those dead fellas over yonder hill. Those are Minotaurs. Their the meanest bunch of bullies to ever come from the West. Taller then an Alicorn, beefier then a Cow and dumber then a rock." He said, hate clearly flowing through his weird Southern accent.

"Fourth:What are you and why are you speaking?"

"...I'm an Earth pony of Equestria, we all talk." He said like it was the most well known thing in the world and that I was as dumb as shit.

"Fucking wonderful...Fifth:Why are you killing these Minotuars?"

"Well...About a month or so ago these mean mother hubbers strolled into town, full of piss and vinegar and drunker then the town idiot, claiming that in exchange for not killing us we should do their band of hooligans the honour of handing over our little town and farm. Needless to say, things didn't work out for them. We've been hunkered down waiting for help for awhile now but we can't use the train or send someone out when they've got us surrounded. Honestly, if you're not one of them then I'm shocked you got here alive."

"I'm tough to kill, just ask General Green...So...These assholes walked up to you guys and demeaned everything or your lifes? That'd be a pretty normal thing where I come from." I said nonchalantly as he seemed bothered by that fact.

"And what do you fellas do with bullies?" He asked curiously.

"Gun then down, beat them senseless and run them out. If I had a bullet for every bandit I've killed I'd be a very rich man." I said to him then to myself, causing him to look at me weirdly, not getting my saying.

"So, ah, anything else Mister? The suns kinda scorching." He said as he slowly wiped some sweat of his forehead.

"...What's the reward if I help you guys out?" I asked with no malice or kindness in my voice, lowering my gun slightly.

"...Wait, what?" He stammered with confusion.

"Well, where I'm from it's generally seen as not assholeish to help out towns being raided for a fitting reward, plus it's fun to kill a dick who deserves it. 'Sides, I don't feel like sleeping out in the desert and I could use a drink of your finest water." I informed him with a small smirk as he had a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Y-you'd be willing to help us even after I tried to kill ya?" He asked, causing me to laugh loudly.

"Boy, getting shot at is the Australian hello. You wanna know how many of my friends have tried to shot me? Like, all of them. Once I woke up with a landmine in my bed." I told him with a smile on my tanned face.

"...You're a strange man Mister...Well, if you wanna help out then I guess we could give ya some bits, food, water, a place to rest your head and we'd put a good word in with the Princesses when all this mess blows over. All in all, a pretty good deal if I do say so myself." He listed off, the rewards sounding pretty good by Wastelander standards.

"...One more thing, why do the Minotaurs want the town?" I asked, wanting to make sure I wasn't fighting for the wrong side again.

"Their barbarians and raiders Sir, they just want our town because it seems interesting to them. Minotaurs aren't known for rationality or good reasons. 'Sides, this land is owned by us and the Buffaloes, they got no claim or right to take it." He said with a hint of hate and pissed off that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Ranger's voice.

'Good, their just evil bastards, it's fun killing people who deserve it.' I thought as I lowered my pistol and held out a hand to him. "Deal, the fact I get to kill raiders is just the cherry on top. You've got yourself a temporary, irritated friend Braeburn." I said with a smile.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear those words...Well, not the whole irritated part but most if it. Again, sorry for the whole trying to kill ya thing, it's been awhile since I've met someone nice or had some proper rest. Hey, what's your name by the way? Don't thing I caught it before." He said with an annoyingly huge grin. True to his words, he looked like he hadn't slept since the bombs dropped. Bags under his weeaboo eyes, dirt in his...fur, scratches and small cuts all over his exhausted pony body and he seemed to sway slightly. I bet I could push him over like a Radi-cow if I wanted to.

"Just call me Flare, everyone else does." I asked him, half-lying, as he took my hand and picked himself up. I still find it fucking freaky how his legs can bend like that. If it weren't for the fact that I was in hostile territory in an unknown country full of Japanese horses with no lay of the land and was right next door to a town in need of a hero, I probably wouldn't have helped him, but he seemed like an honest guy and anyone who can rock a stetson can't be all bad. As he got up he removed the weird wooden finger thing-a-ma-jig and placed it in a pouch on his dusty jacket before he picked up his old rifle and put it on his back with the aid of a bandoleer.

"Well Flare, welcome to appaloosa, home of the world famous apple brandy and the first apple and cinnamon pie. Wish you could see it during better times though." He said like a tired tour guide, slightly shouting the name of the town.

"Thanks, let's go. I really need a drink of something."

"Flare...Interesting name partner, You from Equestria?" He asked, unsure of his own question as he walked in front of me towards the town. Seriously, how is he walking and talking? Despite agreeing to help these Horse people fend off some man-cow hybrids, I still kept my pistol ready and my 'nade launcher loaded. It's not like you can just trust people to keep their word anymore. The last horse I trusted shot me in the leg twice.

"Nope, Australia." I answered simply as we walked towards the town. The road was littered with signs of carnage and splashes of dried blood, a few bodies from both sides also rested in the plains, slowly gathering dust and maggots.

"Huh, woulda thought with that name you'd be some kinda pyromancer or something. Still, guess it was a stretch to think you were an Equestrian, what with the fact that you're easily taller then most of us...Gotta say you wear some odd clothes partner." He said as he looked at my trench coat, hat, gas mask around my neck, boots and pants. What's odd about them? They're god damn awesome! He might have been able to see my bullet proof vest under my shirts collar but I doubt it.

"Well, I'm more of a pyromaniac but the name still fits. And yeah, my wardrobe ain't the most normal but it's helped keep me alive while lookin' bitching. I think you're the first mutant I've seen that wears clothes, talks and can use guns..." I said aloud, causing him to look at me with a hurt look.

"Mutant?"

"Well, yeah. Last I checked horses don't talk, run towns or wear jackets and plated armour." I said while he gave me a dumb look, dumber then a normal horse look.

"Um, Mister I'm a pony, not a Horse...Whatever those are. It's perfectly normal for me to be wearing clothes, ain't weird or nothin'. Are you sure you've even seen a Pony before? Because I can't say I've heard of any place called 'Austrhaylia' before." He said while giving me a peculiar look and a somewhat condescending smile...Did he make a bloody horse pun?

"I've seen all kinda crazy shit in my time Burnie, but I've never met a talking pony who uses rifles. I've met a horse that had a pistol, that was a fun day. I've seen ponies, most of then before the bombs fell, and you don't look like or sound like any I've met...I also met a talking monkey but that's different, he had opposable thumbs and was probably smarter...So how long you been living here?" I asked him, trying to figure out just how soon after everything went to shit these cute bastards showed up. I was still willing to believe these guys were from some other continent like Africa and were living in the desert. I mean, we've only explored what's left of South Africa, lota room for weird horse monsters that could talk.

"'Bout twenty odd years. Families lived in these parts for generations!" He boosted proudly...Okay, If he says he's lived here for more then five years at most then he's a fucking liar. Even with all the radiation, viruses, prototypes and hybrid creatures it's still a stretch to believe that a group like this could have evolved, formed a society and learnt English in five years. To have remained undetected for so long means they either live in the middle of nowhere or a radioactive zone, which they probably don't since I'm still kicking and still have only ten fingers. Nothing about any of this seems to add up and it was slowly pissing me off.

"You don't say...You said this place is call 'Equestria'? What's it like?" I asked, trying to get more info out of him in a friendly way.

"Well, us Earth Ponies have co-existed with the other Pony races, the Unicorns and Pegasi, for as long as most ponies can remember. We're run by Princess Celestia and Luna, they're nice and awful pretty too, though I heard my cousin's friend might be a princess now, huh, who'd a thought I'd know royalty? Um, back on topic, there's also nobles but none of them are fit to run a country if I do say so myself. We're in between the Griffon Kingdom to the West past the Mourning Sea, the Changelings and Minotaurs to the South and the Zebras across the Ocean to the East. I think there's an Empire to the North, can't remember what it's call though. Anyway, we're a pretty peaceful country, all you gotta worry about are the occasional invaders like these fellas. We've all lived a pretty mellow life and aside from a few problems this little slice o' haven has been here for a few millenniums or something..So, what's 'Australia' like?" He informed me with a focused look, like he was remembering stuff from his childhood. So...Not only are there talking ponies, but mythological ones, talking Zebras, Griffons and whatever the hell a Changeling is...Jesus fuck, did he say Millenniums? What the hell have I gotten into?

"Um...Well, Australia is...Dead is probably the most apt word to use." I said simply, still trying to wrap my head around everything he just said.

"What do ya mean 'dead'?" He asked, giving me a questioning look as I breathed in and go ready to fill him in.

"Australia was a pretty decent place. We were multicultural, isolated by oceans all around us, had some pretty boss animals and our beaches were the shit. Aside form a few fucking annoying politicians and dumb as bricks bogans we were a happy bunch a losers...Then the world went to hell in a hand basket and the bombs dropped. About ten years ago 'the world ended'" I said with air quotes at the end. He seemed a bit put off by my liberal swearing and didn't know what a bogan was but sure as hell knew what I meant by the end of the world. "The bombs leveled cities, the radiation uglyed up everything and some viruses broke out that brought the dead back to life and mutated anything it infected...The first few months looked like hell on Earth...Then everything went silent. No one knew what was happening overseas and all our cities were either nuked or overrun with the dead and looters. About two years in and the world jump started itself. Australia is a mix bag of crazy and sane. The closer you get to the Coasts, the more insane and dead people you bump into, and the radiation has turned the cute and venomous wild life into less cute and more venomous animals...Still good to eat and can be tamed though so that's a plus. Ever ridden a Strider? Funnest way to kill time and animals...Anyways, Australia is dead, but getting better." I said as I dropped some serious knowledge on him. He seemed shell shocked, the colour drained from his punchable face.

"That's a...That's a heck of a story partner...If what your saying is true-"

"It's true." I interrupted, conveying as much bitterness as possibly with actually throwing bitters at him.

"W-well how come none of us have even heard of Australia or whatever the hay you call are?" He asked, slightly hysterical. Sighing, I removed my hat, letting my unkempt orange hair fall down, and gave him a good look at my face.

"Australia must be pretty far from here then, and I'm a Human bud. We don't have fur, we're mammals, most of us are infertile and we're generally pissed off ninety percent of the time. Not all of us have orange hair or blue eyes like me, but the sexy ones do. We're pretty tall compared to you and we come in all different shapes and colours." I said, giving him a very general view on Humanity. Despite the gaps in knowledge or key stuff I left out he seemed to get what I was saying.

"You fellas sound pretty exotic compared to anything I've seen." He said with a chuckle.

"Yeap, we're a freak show alright...So, nice town you got here, shame if something were to happen to it."I said calmly as we approached the towns gates.

"Look alive Partner, the guards are a tad jumpy with all this malarkey going on. Just let me do the talking okay?" He told me as we got closer to the shoddy barricade. The wall was lined with arrows, cuts and dents from various weapons and attempted sieges. The barricade, despite being made of almost anything the could find like carriages and broken barrels, somehow still stood. If the duct tape and holes were anything to go by, this wall of crap wouldn't stand for long. The 'gate' was what looked like a large, ornate carriage with metal plates and screens, the once decorative looking designs now battered and broken. As we neared the wooden, weathered wall I heard what sounded like running mixed with hoof steps, more technocoloured muts. Right as Braeburn was about to knock on the metal gate, I saw something raise its head from atop the barrier. It seemed to be another one of these Ponies. He was a shit brown horse with a dark brown mane and mustache, how a horse grows a mustache I have no idea. Along with another cowboy hat he wore a blue vest, silver badge and a set of steel armour that looked like it'd fit a knight, or the horse equivalent of a knight. He had what looked like a throwing spear raised above his head and was eyeing me something fierce.

"Braeburn, what the hay is that?" He asked, his voice strained and tired, a running theme with these horse's voices.

"Calm down Sheriff, this here is Flare. He calls himself a Human and wants to help out." Braeburn said as he stood in front of me, like it would stop a spear thrown from above us.

"And you just took that at face value? Boy, how naive can ya get?" He asked rhetorically. As he looked down on us, I could hear what sounded like a bunch of soldiers getting in formation behind the wall, probably in case I tried and break down the wall or something. He made a good point, even I thought what he did was stupid.

"Silver, he could of killed me. He sneaked up on me and coulda taken me out, instead he wanted to know what was happening and decided to help us when he found out we were under attack." Brae defended honestly. The sheriff seemed unconvinced but did lower the spear, somewhat buying what Burnie was elling.

"And how do we know he ain't some Minotaur infiltrator?" He countered, not buying anything.

"If I was an infiltrator I woulda put my machete through his head and sneaked in while starting fires, instead of walking up to your look out and asking whats what. Granted I asked him at gunpoint, but that's because he probably would have still shot me if I hadn't. Look, I don't know what a Minotaur is aside from the corpse I walked over to get here, I'm lost, thirsty, miss my friends, my feet hurt and tired. I'm also a seasoned fighter with more then a few kills notched on my belt if that makes things sound better." I said bluntly. At first he seemed pissed about how I causally talked about murdering someone then started to see why having me help them would be a good idea.

"Come on Silver, when have I been wrong about someone?" Brae asked with a smirk, causing the Sheriff to look at him with a neutral look.

"The buffaloes."

"Yes...Well...Everyone thought they were bad until Applejack and her friends showed up." Brae defended with a nervous chuckle and slight blush.

"...Fine, he can come in. But if you step out of line partner, you'll be in for a world o' hurt." The Sheriff threatened, causing me to snicker at his shitty attempt to intimidate me.

"...That went well." Burnie said with a tired smile as the carriage wall moved out of the way, letting us into the town.

"Huh, this a normal welcome?" I asked as we came face to face with a line of fluffy Ponies, most of them with what looked like horns, wearing silver and gold armour and using spears behind rows of wooden cover a few dozen feet away from us. So, they also have horns and wings...fuckin' wonderful. The town looked like a barracks. The streets were filled with carts and stalls full of or handing out supplies like food or water, no beer though, there were dozens of armoured Ponies walking around in patrols like they were hot shit, all of them had calm, hardened expressions and barely seem to care about me, The wall was lined with the locals either using binoculars or holdings spears or weird bows. The buildings were boarded up and in various states of messed up. The locals were either busy helping out, running around looking for something or sitting on their ass outside some kinda shop that looked like it was outfitted as a temporary triage center if the giant red cross painted on the sign above the door was anything to go by.

"Good timing Braeburn, it's time for you to trade off anyway." The Sheriff said as another local, some kinda girl with green hair and a weird shirt, walked up. Burnie handed over his rifle and the weird prosthetic finger he used to the girl who nodded at him, she gave me a weird look and ran out of the gates as it began to get rolled back into place.

"Yeah you better run..." I muttered to no one.

"I always was punctual. Sheriff, this here is Flare." Burnie introduced with a smile as I walked up to him and offered my hand.

"How do you do? Sheriff Silverstar, law enforcer and temporary soldier for what's left of Appaloosa's defense force." He said as he shook my hand briefly.

"Don't worry. Ranger Flare, known for blowing shit up, taking names and sleeping on the job." I said as I pointed to my ash stained badge, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

"Well hay, didn't think we'd run into someone working for the law out here, what'd you say you were? A Ranger?" He asked as we all began to walk down the street, some of the locals looking at us and whispering, most likely about me and how fucking beautiful I am.

"Yeap, the only law bringers worth a damn in the Wastelands. We're kinda picky about who we let in so I'm pretty good at my job if I do say so myself." I said, my voice oozing with pride.

"Aha, so how come I've never heard of you?" The sheriff asked, not really buying how great I am.

"Well, we don't work for whoever you work for and I've never been here, so I probably don't have any jurisdiction around these parts...Still, me and 'Nade are sure gonna do our best to fuck these cow people up!" I boasted loudly while holding my 'nade launcher.

"What is that?" Burnie asked while eyeing my gun.

"An M79, dispenses hellfire and pain on any poor bastard that gets in my way. I almost feel sorry for those raiders...Almost." I said while looking down its sight.

"It looks bulky, did the Minotaurs have it? That's where we found that thing I was using before." Brae asked, referring to his rifle.

"No, I own this. I was gonna ask, where the hell did you find an American sniper rifle and build a wooden finger?" I asked, wanting to find how just how much heat they were packing. So far all I'd seen were a single antiquated rifle and a bunch of spears and arrows.

"When we were scouting the dunes we came across a Minotaur using it. He tried to kill us but we were able to take him out. On his person we found a box full of metallic, pointed cylinders and figured out how to put then in the weapon. We saw how he used it and carved a finger. It's kinda hard to use it with a hoof." The Sheriff informed me as we approached a saloon of some kind, outside the doors were two sentries with a large shield and spear in each...Fore hoof?

"That answers that I suppose...Hey, not that I'm against getting shit faced in the evening, but why are we heading to a bar?" I asked as we walked into the saloon.

"Well, since the jailhouse and barracks were destroyed early in their raid we had to set up shop somewhere else. The saloon seemed like a good idea at the time." He said as we walked in. Before we did I did a quick scan of the street and noticed two stone buildings reduced to rubble with metal bars and wood sticking out, I deduced that that was what was left of the original barracks and jail.

"What the hell happened?" I asked as we pushed the saloon doors open. The building was a hub of soldiers milling about, relaxing on the second floor, planning shit on the ground floor in some kinda backroom or getting drunk if they weren't doing anything. To the far right was a stage used only to store racks of medieval weapons and armour...The more I looked around the more I questioned just how technologically able these Ponies were...Aside from the pack bar, the crowded floor above packed with guards, busy room and secretive backroom, everything looked like a normal western pub.

"They were able to sneak in some kind of exploding powder and took out the two buildings, the Ponies inside never stood a chance..." Braeburn said grimly as we passed through the crowd, guards turning to look at us and nervous patrons trying to ignore me.

"Wait here, we'll call you in shortly..." The Sheriff ordered as he and Brae walked into the backroom before closing the wooden door. With nothing else to do, I walked over to the bar and awkwardly sat down on a stool that was too small for me. shaking like a leaf, a leaf green girl walked over to me, her white hair covering her eyes.

"Hey, what'll it be? Don't worry about paying, the guards got the tab covered for anyone fighting." She said nervously with a faint smile.

"Give me a double of whatever's the strongest drink, I really need it after all this bullshit." I ordered as she gave me a shocked look and walked off to get my drink. Internally, my brain was working overtime processing all this weirdness.

'Okay...So their talking Ponies who're also technicolour, have horns or wings, have their own country, culture and government, have American accents somehow, are fighting man cow hybrids, live in a country I've never heard of surrounded by races I've never seen and use technology that's seriously outdated...What the fuck...'

"Here you go Soldier, The Appaloosa Special." The bartender said, interrupting my thoughts as I was about to suffered a brain aneurysm from all the shit I was going with. She passed me a shot glass filled with green, sweet smelling liqueur that reeked of apples, cinnamon, citrus fruits and alcohol.

"Cheers." I said while raising my glass at her before knocking it back. It was like someone took a bunch of fruits, sprinkled some sugar, dossed the whole arm in booze and punched me in the jaw. It was AMAZING.

"Woo! Damn that felt good, another one." I said with a huge grin. It was rare to find original booze that didn't taste like someone distilled bog water, poured some cheap beer into it and added piss to the mixture. In comparison to the finest liqueurs I'd had that were New Age, this was ambrosia.

"Wow...I haven't seen anyone have a shot of that and still be standing." She said as she poured another one.

"Heh, I got a liver of steel hun. Cheers to good health and not getting shot." I said as I knocked another one back, it's smooth, sickly sweet texture tickling my throat.

"U-um, do you want another?" She asked meekly. Before I could say yes, someone answered for me.

"Sorry Appletini, this fellas needed in the 'War Room'." I heard Brae said from behind me, causing me to scowl.

"Hey, never tell me when I'm done and don't sneak up on me, both combined make it real easy to get on my shit list." I said as I nodded at Appletini, who quickly poured me a shot which I downed faster. Shaking my head slightly, I nodded at her and followed Brae, who seemed a bit bothered by what I said, not that it mattered in the lest bit.

The 'War Room' as he called it was nothing more then a small lounge with a few maps, graphs and statistic laid out haphazardly with a bunch of Ponies running about examining things. At the table sat the Sheriff and some white guy with a pissed off expression at the head of the table. The last guy was wearing a full set of royal blue and golden armour, a large by their standards jeweled rapier at his side and his helmet removed. All in all, he looked about ready to stab someone, a feeling I could empathize with.

"Ranger Flare, You're already antiquated with myself and Private braeburn so allow me to introduce you to Major General Blueblood, he's the stallion in charge of the Royal Guard forces." He said while nodding towards the white stallion.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, wish we could meet under better circumstances." He said while smiling and nodding at me. Compared to the other guys I'd seen this guy seemed kinda foppish. He had long wavy, platinum blond hair, piercing sapphire blue eyes, a weirdly handsome horse face and an aristocratic voice that wouldn't have been out of place in a generic satirical comedy. His body must have been quite fit and masculine if he was able to wear what looked like heavy armour with such comfort. Sure, it looked lighter and much more flexible compared to the full plate armour most of the guards were wearing, but it still must have weighed a bit.

"Same...So, I got a few questions..." I said while I took my seat at the round table, the dull white light above illumating everyone as Braeburn took a seat to my left, the Sheriff to my left and Blueblood opposite me.

"Well that's why we're here, you seem kind of...Disorientated and we thought that this would help get you up to speed before tonight when they strike again. We've already gone over the strategies and plans for the coming battle, when you're done we'll fill you in on the approaching assault." The Sheriff informed me while removing his hat and letting it rest on the table, letting his dark brown hair down.

"So...Shoot partner, what do ya wanna know?" Braeburn said with a small smile as he sipped a small glass of crystal clear water.

'Oh boy, where do I fucking begin?' I thought with a almost crazed smile.

"Okay...What the fuck is going on, how did I get here and why does nothing make sense?"