Illustrate the Dead (1)

December First, 2198.1

The Earth, that was once filled with life and spirit, is now a great cemetary. Huge cities crumbled at the hands of the Great War and death spread like a plague. The humans that had destroyed the world, were now yearning for more distruction; each other. 2

The remaining people that survived the war had split themselves into small groups across the continent. 3

I walked along the trails that were strewn across what was once New Mexico. A day with no wind nor clouds. The sun beat down unmercifully upon the wasteland, it was hot indeed. Where was I going, you ask? Away. The flat gound went for miles on all sides around me. I breathed in deeply, the scent of death was my shadow, for I was the hunter. The cracks in the ground made pretend maps and I kept myself preoccupied with them. They told me that no matter how strong you are, one day you would surely crack. My coat was sticking with sweat to my back from walking for so long without rest. I actually did believe I would die that day. Right then and there. I began stumbling over nothing and my vision blurred. My throat was parched from going without water for days, leaving a sticky taste in my mouth.4

Not this way...5

Panic began to grow inside me as I tripped and fell hard onto the dead ground, knocking the wind out of me. I moaned loudly, mostly out of anger for letting myself become so weak. 6

God damn you Rayne! The voice screamed in my head, Get up! We have work to do!7

I exhaled sharply into the red dirt, certain I was to die here. I deserved it...I knew that for sure. Years of killing without mercy was enough to leave me to die here. My mind raced. All the faces passed my sight. Men, women, children. The nameless ones. I felt the tears rising in my eyes. Not for the ones I killed, but for the one that was about to be: Me. Yes, I was very self centered.8

Get up! We're not done here!9

The tears stung my eyes, and my muscles turned to jelly when I tried to pull myself up, sending me to the ground again.10

"I can't do it..!" I said painfully though my teeth as I rolled onto my back. The sun hit my face hard. I covered my eyes and cried out again. My body was beginning to burn. Not physically, but emotionally. The voice hammered at my conscience.11

GET UP! It bellowed.12

I didn't know how long I could endure this torture; I never let my...my....victims feel this much pain before death. But there was no way that I would let myself die if I knew that I could prevent it. But I didn't know if I would prevent it or not.13

It was painful even to turn back around and lay on my stomach, but I was filled with fire at this moment. I rose to my knees, hunched over on my hands. Trembling, I reached up and brushed the hair from my sweaty face. 14

Something interesting this way comes...15

"Shut up." I rose to my feet, shaking as my muscles screamed in protest. I ignored the pain, throwing the sleeveless coat onto the red dirt, leaving me in my grey ripped tank top and torn brown pants that had been sewn in several places. My left hand went to the gun at my holster. Raising it to the figure that was coming towards me at a fast speed. My vision blurred more and I nearly fell when my knees buckled slightly, causing me to stumble. Before my head began to spin, I squeezed the trigger, sending the bullet towards them. I didn't know if the bullet had reached them, for my vision had gone black and I fell to the earth hard on my back, barely conscious.16

They are going to kill you if you do not kill them, Rayne.17

"Leave me alone!" I screamed as loud as I could, which was only above a loud whisper. I closed my eyes as I heard the foot steps of the person coming closer. As I readied myself for the end, I was suprised to find that nothing happened.18

Open your eyes...19

I did. Very slowly I opened my eyes. The burning sun was blocked by a tall, dark figure. I couldn't see his face, even though he was three feet from me. 20

"Well, well, well." He said, kneeling down closer to me. He had a kindly face, if he would have smiled. His brown hair hung over parts of his dirty face and his grey eyes gleamed with delight at his find. He swept away my red hair from my face and stared at me, "If it isn't the Slayer." He chuckled to himself, "What are the odds..." He looked up to the horizon, shaking his head and smiling to himself. 21

He's going to kill you...22

I closed my eyes tight. I was positive that he was going to kill me. Or worse. My hand slowly reached for the gun at my other hip, for the other was out of my reach when I dropped it. When I felt the handle, I tried with all my strength to pull it out of the holster.23

"Don't even think about it..." Came the man's voice. My eyes shot open when I felt his grip on my arm, stopping me from destroying him. He was looking at me with a what-do-you-think-your-gonna-do? look. My arm went limp, as did the rest of my body. He released my arm and rested it on his knee and sighed.24

I heard the snort of a horse. So that was how he had gotten to me so fast...25

"Hold on Curran," the man said, looking at the horse, then back to me. I stared up at him. He reminded me of someone.26

"I suppose you don't want to die, eh?" He scoffed when I didn't answer. "Well then, I guess you do." There was silence and he took a breath, "If you ask me, I think dying out here is not how your life was meant to end, Rayne."27

I raised my head slightly. I opened my mouth, but found I was unable to speak. So I closed my mouth again and stared at him, my breathing became raspy and I lowered my head.28

He leaned closer to me, "How long has it been since you've had anything to drink?" He said with a hint of concern in his voice, "Nuh, don't try to speak again." He said when I tried to answer him. He reached out and took my gun out of the holster.29

Yup. He's going to kill you.30

He flashed me a quick smile, then stood. My breath caught in my throat. The way he stood...the way he walked...the way he talked...how he was dressed. It could only be one person. It was Gideon Pierce. The greatest gunslinger in the world. Only...different. But how could that be? He had died last year. It had to have been him. The same red shirt and black pants and gloves with the fingers cut off...unless it was someone trying to imitate him. No one would be that stupid to do that. For Gideon was the most wanted man before he died and there was a very expensive reward for him. Dead or alive. 31

"I bet your thirsty..." I heard him say as he dug in the saddle bags, extracting a bottle of water and walking back to me. He sat down beside me and lifted my head with his hand, holding the bottle to my lips. It felt so good to have the taste in my mouth wash away. I choked on the first few drinks, but then eagerly drank the rest. I exhaled sharply and layed my head back in his lap with my eyes closed. I was exhausted. He recapped the bottle and set it to the side. I began to feel the strength slowly returning to my body. Very slowly. 32

"So may I ask why you are out here?" He asked, staring down at me. I didn't feel like telling him. So I ignored it.33

"Why are you out here, Rayne?" He said quietly, leaning back with his arms supporting him with his hands flat on the ground.34

I sighed and moved my hands to rest on my stomach. I ran through all the excuses in my head to be out here, but I decided I would tell him the truth; "Running away." I said softly, eyes still closed. Luckily the sun was behind Gideon, so I was in the shade.35

"Away from who?" He asked, leaning his head to one side.36

"Myself." I whispered, almost asleep. I wished that he would stop asking so many questions.37

"Yourself?" He asked, almost laughing. I opened my eyes. He was laughing at me? "It's perfectly normal, Rayne. Almost everyone experiences it sooner or later in life. Life just gets too hard for them, or they hate what they've become. But very few people actually wander into the desert looking for a way out..."38

"Did you ever go through this, Gideon?" I asked, cutting him off and looking up at him. I saw his face change as if he'd just heard some bad news. He raised an eyebrow at me, "Who?"39

"Oh please..." I said, rolling onto my hands and knees. My muscles were still very sore from walking all those miles. Breathing didn't come very easily, and it took me awhile to catch it. I stared at him, "You really didn't think that I wouldn't recognize you?"40

He said nothing. Only rose to his feet and walked to the gun that was on the ground a few feet away from him. After putting it in the saddlebag, he returned to me and held out his hand so he could help me up. 41

"You're hallucinating." He said plainly, putting my arm over his shoulder to help me walk. I knew I couldn't have without his help.42

"What brings you out here, then?" I asked him as he helped me walk to the horse. He didn't answer me immadiately; it wasn't until after he had helped me into the saddle and sat himself behind me as to keep me from falling off that he told me.43

"I was actually looking for you. But I gave up hope and was on my way to a town so I could stay the night. Luckily, I found you." He kicked the horse softly and we began moving. I leaned my back against his chest and began to doze off, "Really..." I mumbled, closing my eyes and relaxing against him. 44

"Uhh...no." He said, hesitating, "I heard from someone that you were going this way..."45

It was long ride. We barely spoke to each other at all, just watching the scenery change, often stopping at a creek or somewhere where we could rest.46

How was it that I was to end up with Gideon, you ask? The answer would come later.47

This silence game me time to run through my thoughts about my past. My sister and I grew up in Silver City, southwest of Santa Fe. But by then, it was a shriveled up ghost town with nothing but the old dried up bodies of buildings. The War had began when the United States had bombed Korea by accident, causing the first calamity. Then came the Middle East and Russia. So basically, everyone was bombing and killing the fuck out of each other, reducing the population of the world to a quarter. That's about 1,621,447,907 people left on the planet.48

Anyway, I grew up with my mother, father and sister in Silver City. We lived in an abandoned warehouse with a few other people. Even trying to survive was a chore. That is where I found a best friend in a boy named Jack Captiva. We were inseperable since we were four years old. When my parents died, my sister and I moved up North to Wichita, Kansas, to live with a friend and his parents, leaving my past, and Jack, behind forever.49

Billy and his parents were nice people, but when his father sold my sister to a whorehouse in Oklahoma City when she was seventeen, life took an unexpected twist. 50

Since my sister was all I had, I had no choice but to run away to find her. I was eleven years old when I left Wichita, learning everything I could from people willing to teach me anything. I found my first pair of guns on a corpse that had once been a man. But left out in the baking sun for a few days can really change someone. It was the same pair of guns that I carry now; glock 17. 51

By the time I was fourteen, I had a decent aim and was pretty quick; far from the girl that I would become five years later. I found my sister when I was sixteen. The life had been drained from her eyes from the years of being used as a toy for men. She barely recognized me.52

---Flashback---53

I opened the door the door to the old hotel and peered inside. It was dark, lit only by a few candles on the shelves that were spaced apart going up the wall next to the stairs. To the right of me was a large room. The floor was cracked and peeled linoleum that had diamond designs on it, showing off the stained brown wood floor. A very large dirty window was on the wall farthest from me let in what little light the smudges would allow it, spilling onto the floor. I looked to the left. Nothing there but an old door from which the paint had peeled. Most likely a closet. I looked forward to the darkness at the top of the stairs. The smell of sweat and a certain odor that I couldn't explain filled my nostrils as I took a step up the creaking wood stairs, my hand gliding over the rotted railing. I soon came to the top, turning right, which is the only way I could. Rows and rows of doors went down a long hallway on both sides, almost completely dark except for the small broken window at the very end. The green and yellow striped wallpaper was brittle and fell easily apart under my touch. 54

I pulled my hair behind my ears and walked down the hall further. I could hear the sounds of people on the other side of the first door, knowing very well what they were doing. I just hoped that it wasn't my sister. I walked a bit further, finding a door that had silence on the other side. Putting my hand on the glass knob, I turned it and opened the door. I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me when I saw him standing over the body of my sister. The man turned to me, his face in shadow from almost white hair that hung over part of his face. He was dressed in tight black leather and buckles, which was fairly uncommon for one to dress in a place such as Oklahoma City at that time. He stared at me with his unnatural gray eyes, then back down at my sister with a strange look on his face. I couldn't breathe.55

"Did Mason send you in?" The man said in a cool voice, turning to look at me. When I didn't answer him, he smiled lightly and took a few steps in my direction. His hands were covered by black gloves, the fingers were cut of, showing his pale skin and glossy chrome of his fingernails. He was so clean; unlike most of the men here. He stopped when he was a few feet away, staring down at me with a soft smile on his face. His hair seemed to shine in the dim light that escaped the dirtiness of the small window above the bed. He brushed away the strands of silver hair that fell into his face and narrowed his eyes, "Something wrong?" He asked.56

I shook my head quickly, eyes still hooked on his clean face. I didn't know how long I had stopped breathing, but I began to feel dizzy. I quickly turned away from him to the girl that was now sitting up on the bed in the far right corner of the room. Her bare arms were holding a gray ripped and torn blanket over her body. She stared at me with confusion, I could tell she had no idea who I was. Her hair was longer than I had remembered, falling over her shoulders in a black waterfall to the small of her back.57

It was here that the Voice first spoke to me.58

Be careful...59

"Cara!" I said, taking a step foreward, but was blocked off my the man. He turned his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at me, raising his hand. He did not speak, just gave me a where-do-you-think-you're-going? look.60

"Link?" She asked, looking at him. I tried to look at her, but he was blocking my way. Her voice even sounded different, I wasn't expecting much to change of Cara, but it had. "Who is it? Send them away!" I heard her sigh as she laid back on the bed.61

I admit I was kind of hurt when she said this, she didn't even remember me...62

I turned my attention back to the man. He raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Tell me really," He said, straightening out and crossing his arms over his flat chest, "did mason send you?"63

I shook my head. There was something about him that I didn't trust at all.