Alexa's Travels: A Prelude by Angela White

One

    August, 2017
     
    1
    The small group of seasoned fighters had been traveling together for almost a year. Following the signs, they searched for New America, and for those who had come this way before them. Black, hooded cloaks billowing in the harsh wind, their battle-lined eyes and stiff, ready hands said it had been a hard journey.
    The grit-layered mountains in the distance mocked their efforts, as did the colorless dirt being whipped about by a constant, impudent wind. The bleak landscape revealed only more of the same. This was not a friendly place they had come to, but even the post-apocalyptic weather could not completely erode the signs of the world that had once been.
    7- 13
    Stone Mt
    ALL survivors welcome
     
    Carved into the leeward side of the rock wall where it would be protected, the small band of travelers stared at this latest message with hope lingering in their thoughts, but also with remarkable patience. July of 2013 was four years past, and in that time the United States had become nearly unlivable. The gates between reality and horror had opened, and nothing was the same.
    In the distance, a sandstorm brewed menacingly, and the six men looked to the lone female leading them on this perilous journey.
    Alexa studied the land, her bloodshot eyes straining for any signs of smoke in the distance, though her mind had already confirmed she was years too late. Those who had come this way before her were long gone. To where, was the only question for her, the very reason she continued to breathe.
    “Set us up. Jacob will cook.”
    Her raspy voice got an immediate response from the well-trained men.
    Her hawkish gaze swept the barren landscape continuously as they made a small camp along the engraved wall. Their movements were smooth, practiced, and the men kept close track not only of their surroundings, but also each other, and their seemingly fearless leader. Alexa was a hard soul, the first to fight, the last to rest. Slavers, zombies, nature - they’d faced it at her side, seven to start the trip, and that number hadn’t changed. They would go where she led.
    The spiteful wind threw showers of sand over the lean fighters as they worked, and the woman guarded them with calloused fingers resting on the butts of well cared for and heavily used Colts. Restless, the sense of danger was clear to their leader. Something other than the dust was nearby.
    With a silent watchfulness that spoke of being lethal, the men gathered deadwood and debris to form a barrier around their camp. They smothered the flames as soon as the food and coffee was finished, their gun holsters staying open, ready. These hardened men didn’t speak, didn’t need to after traveling together for so long through this alien world. Their blonde guardian was more alert than usual, and in the past, that had meant death was either waiting ahead or coming fast on their heels. They would pay attention… and more, if it was called for.
     
    2
    Darkness beginning to invade, the seven travelers gathered around the ring of glowing embers. They were more like a family than strangers who had come together for protection in this hard new world where there was little noise but the howling of a cruel, southern wind.
    “What’s this night’s horror?”
    Jacob’s heavily scarred face flushed at the laughter.
    The woman raised a brow, expression showing no sympathy for his discomfort. Well ?
    “Beans and biscuits.”
    The teasing turned to contentment at that. It was the one meal the rookie knew how to make. The last to join the quest, it was often a surprise to the others to find the gentle man of God among them, and always a slight shock when he used the deadly .357 slung low on his lean hip. Jacob believed in peace and would go out of his way to achieve it, but when the battles came, he was as dangerous as the rest of her companions.
    The other men assumed his wounds had caused this, but their leader knew better. Jacob was a born hunter, killer.