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Six months after the outbreak... Somewhere outside Des Moines, Iowa
Franklin listened to the conversation around the campfire. Fantasies and pipe dreams of banding together, rebuilding civilization, curing the plague. They were idiots. All of them.
After listening to a heated back and forth over what caused the outbreak - natural disaster / God's judgement / bioterrorism / etc., Franklin had had enough.
"Who the fuck cares how it started? How would knowing exactly how it started help you in any way, shape, or form? Which one of you is a scientist? Do you see any scientists here? No. So knowing how it started is not as important as knowing you can't do a goddamn thing about it..."
"Franklin, c'mon man, you're scaring the kids and..."
Franklin bowed up. "No. Listen to me. Civilization is dead and gone. Anyone trying to bring it back needs to be shot on sight. Civilization? Where did that dead end take us? A planet full of nuclear power reactors one wet fart away from melting down and killing everything except the fucking rotters, and no one alive to go make sure they are all turned off. We are Grade A certifiably fucked, regardless of how anything turns out, so don't waste time wishing and shitting. You all are going to save the world between running and hiding and scavenging for pork and bean trees. Morons, all of you. Quit dreaming. It's time to take the training wheels off."
Two months after the outbreak... Effigy Mounds National Park... Iowa
The bitch would not shut up. All manner of annoying noises were emitting from her face. "Franklin, I'm hungry. Franklin, I'm tired. Franklin, I'm cold." Franklin this and Franklin that. Consuela Daniels, Connie, his wife, was becoming unbearable, again.
She had been riding his ass non-stop ever since he slapped food out of her hands when she started complaining that he robbed and killed other people for it. Franklin wasn't taking anymore. Days before the outbreak, she was threatening divorce. Things had not improved since. Now he absolutely would not let her have food she did not acquire on her own. She had to learn the new rules. As far as Franklin was concerned, she needed to start surviving, and "my name is Iving."
"Are you listening to me?" Connie heckled. "Quit being an asshole and give me something to eat!"
"You don't want stolen food." Franklin replied, coolly.
"I'm hungry!"
"You're lucky I've protected you this long."
"Franklin! Protected me? Don't make me laugh. We're in the middle of nowhere with no food and..."
"I have food."
"You are such a jerk! Just take me back to St. Louis! I'll find my family, and you can go to hell!"
This incensed Franklin. All of their fights gravitated to the move to northern Iowa following his demotion. He was lucky to have been able to keep his job with the U.S. Fish and Wildlife bureau. And during their move, the outbreak. Broken down on the highway in a truck full of boxes and furniture. Everything they owned.
Franklin grabbed Connie by the throat and pinned her to a tree. "You want to go to St. Louis? Go!" He threw her towards the river. She stumbled, and as she started to get to her feet, Franklin ran up and kicked her in the ribs. "Get your ass to St. Louis! Go!"
Franklin pushed and shoved Connie towards the river and each time she stumbled, he kicked her maliciously.
Connie begged Franklin for mercy, but he was relentless.
Along a small bluff, the Mississippi River raged, and the choppy waters were inundated with the writhing bodies of dozens of washed-away walkers. At the edge, Connie pleaded with Franklin.
Franklin pretended to give in, and drew her into an embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Baby, I'm sorry."
Connie sobbed.
Franklin said, coldly, "St. Louis is down river. Tell your father I'm still a loser."
At that, Franklin flung Connie off the bluff, and watched as the animated dead in the river got ahold of her and tore her to pieces.
Last Edit: Oct 12, 2015 20:44:32 GMT -5 by Deleted
It was a nice run. But all good things had to come to a end. Don't know why St. Louis had to fall apart but it was for the best.
Franklin had been on the road east, tired, running with no sleep. Exhausted and his thoughts were scattered.
Yes, the Granite City refinery explosion killed 273 of his followers but it took out thousands of walkers in the fires that ensued and spread. Hardy walkers in flames shambled on far enough to cause surrounding structure fires and soon most of East St. Louis burned to the ground.
And now the thought of all that fuel lost and enemies made and left behind. Out of gas and out of friends. As the car sputtered to a depleted halt, Franklin gathered up his pack and rifle and began walking down the highway. The sun was rising over a green information sign which read "Welcome to South Carolina."
Franklin's raiders had discovered s treasure trove of supplies at an overrun FEMA quarantine camp. Franklin commanded his men. "Take the police cars. Any car with light bars and sirens. Spot lights, floodlights, PA speakers, anything you can find that makes noise or bright lights. CB radios and scanners. Jerry cans with fuel. Everything we need to steer a herd of mud monkeys wherever we want them to go."
"What about the food and medicine?" asked Jack.
"We'll come back for them when we get the barges down here from St. Louis. I want those MRAPs."
Deleted Deleted Member
Posts: 0
The BreakingSept 28, 2016 10:40:37 GMT -5via mobile
A year after blowing up the gasoline refinery in Granite City, the landscape was scorched. A few blackened and windowless brick and mortar buildings dotted the otherwise incinerated remains of Granite City and East St. Louis. Whatever wasn't taken down by 200,000 gallons of gasoline and propane was immolated by the Zeds that wandered out of the fire as far as they could go until the flames disintegrated their legs and arms.
To the west, the city of St. Louis Missouri seemed quiet, across the Mississippi which had receded back within its banks. The bridges across were splattered with grayish black rotting ooze and the broken corpses of hissing but immobilized Zeds. Dutch's tripwire claymore mines had done their job.
Franklin adjusted his backpack and rifle strap on his shoulder and unsheathed his machete, and looked down the span of the Eads Bridge.
"Honey, I'm home..." Franklin said to no one as he crossed over into Missouri....
Deleted Deleted Member
Posts: 0
The BreakingNov 19, 2016 16:16:31 GMT -5via mobile
Franklin coughed and spit up blood as the soldiers took turns punching him in the ribs. Franklin was helpless with his wrists chained above his head, as his interrogators beat him.
"Answer the sergeant's question, dirtbag! Does getting punched on the left side hurt worse than getting punched on the right?"
Another soldier stepped forward and delivered a one-two jab to Franklin's abdomen.
"Well? What's the answer?"
Franklin screamed "Fuck you!"
"Nope, wrong answer."
A soldier struck Franklin in the head with a baton, knocking him out.
Shauna Kelly: That helped, thank you
Oct 4, 2021 14:40:44 GMT -5
Ayita Hunt: dang, January was my last post.. Jeez it's been a hot minute. o7 guys, sorry for the complete disappearance, life got.. a little interesting this year.
Oct 18, 2021 22:34:19 GMT -5