Post by Rock114 on Jul 29, 2014 23:51:06 GMT
Yes, I know that's not the best title. If anyone who reads this suggests a better one, then I'll be more than glad to change it and give credit.
Anyways, like I mentioned to TinyCarlos earlier today this is a pre-Season 2 story with some focus on Pete, and to a lesser extent Luke and Nick. This idea just came to me a few days ago and I had to write it down. Yes, I know I should be working on "Journey's End", the story that wraps up the loose ends from Inferno. Yes, it'll be here eventually. Sometime after Episode 5 releases. Anyways, without further ado, here's Part 1 of what is looking like a 3-4 Part story...
512 Days In
“...and six months later, we were flat broke. Lost every dime we had.”
“And why is it that I’m just hearing about this now, Luke?” Pete’s look of disbelief and subtle disappointment was cutting. The two men strode down a cracked and sun-baked street less than a mile outside the city limits of Ashland. Signs of the devastation littered the landscape around the two, signaling the end of an era of mankind. The sun was high in the sky, its rays attempting to beat the two into submission with the sweltering summer heat. Luke took the high temperatures in stride, but the older Pete was suffering under the relentless assault with sweat dripping from his bare head.
Luke shrugged. “Nick didn’t want to tell you we lost all our money. He told me to keep it a secret because he thought you’d get mad at him.”
“Damn right I’d have been mad,” Pete growled. “What kinda idiot would think that that was a good idea for a business? And how much money did you lose again?”
“Too much,” Luke sheepishly admitted.
“Goddamn,” Pete sighed as he and Luke continued their trek, weapons in hand, down the road in search of supplies. “And all these years here I was thinking that he blew it on that…” Pete struggled with the name more than he cared to admit. “That thing you and him played games on, what was it…”
“It’s called an Xbox, Pete,” Luke laughed. “It doesn’t cost that much. Not by a long shot.”
“I remember that you’d come over and you and Nick would be up all night playing that one game, uh…”
Luke stifled another small chuckle. “Halo.”
“What?”
“The game was called Halo, Pete.”
“Eh, I don’t understand it,” Pete grunted, refocusing on the road ahead of him as his feet dragged across the heated concrete beneath him, warming his shoes. “Those video game things. All the channels on TV now. Everything. Back when I was Nick’s age, we weren’t able to do even half of the things that people could do just before all of this started.”
“Pete, what are-”
“Times are just so different. Especially these days,” he rambled on, gesturing around at the devastation they passed. “I got no idea what that boy’s thinkin', you know?”
“Uh, Pete…?”
“Huh?” The old man looked back to Luke, snapping out of his rant. “Oh. Sorry.”
Luke edged a few inches closer to the older man, and spoke with concern in his voice. “Pete, are you alright? Is something wrong?”
“No.” Pete looked away to the side with a sigh. “Yes.”
“What is it?”
“I’m just… tryin' to figure out where it all went wrong. With me and Nick. Most of the time it just feels like we’re from different worlds. We’re never on the same wavelength. I tried to understand back before the Plague, but everything was so different from when me and his mother were growing up. I just can't... comprehend it. The way he thinks. You and him and your whole generation just... grew up different than mine did. I think. I wish I knew.”
“Well that’s how it goes, I guess” Luke noted somberly. “Things just keep moving forward. Changing.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Pete said. “But it feels like somewhere along the way I got left behind and just never realized it.”
“I don’t think any of that stuff matters anymore,” Luke stated. “You’re the only family Nick’s got left now. That’s gotta count for more than just growing up different, right?”
“What do you mean? You’re here too, Luke.”
“Excuse me?” The younger man stopped in his tracks for a second.
“You heard me,” Pete said. “You’ve known Nick and me for a good 20 years now. You knew his mother just as long. You and Nick are brothers if I ever saw them. As far as I’m concerned that makes you family."
“Oh… well… thanks, Pete. I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say nothin’,” the old man continued. “Family’s more than just blood. Especially in times like these.”
“Yeah, family…” Luke answered absently.
There were several moments of silence before Pete spoke again. “I don’t want to bring up any bad memories,” he hesitated, “But I’m real sorry about your folks. They were good people.”
Luke picked up his pace. “That’s in the past now, alright? They’re gone.”
“I just don’t think I ever got around to tellin’ you that,” Pete confessed. “There was so much happenin’ in those early days. We were always on the run barely ahead of the lurkers, no time to think or nothin’. Anyway, I just wanted to say it. They did right by you, the way they raised you. I’m sure they’d be proud.”
“Just let it go,” Luke commanded. “I don’t wanna… just leave it in the past, okay?”
“Okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”
“Hey,” Luke said, pointing to an abandoned rest stop on the side of the road. “There might be something in there. Let’s check it out.”
“Maybe,” Pete considered. “Let’s take it slow. After what happened last week I don’t want to take any risks we don’t need to.”
The two crept toward the rest stop, weapons raised. An old car or two lay nearby, rusting in the sun while the men slid the door of the rest stop open and stepped into the main room.
“Wait,” Luke said, stopping the two. “Pete?”
“Yeah?” the old man turned to him, waiting.
“Thanks,” Luke muttered. A warm smile sprang to life on the old man’s face, restoring a bit of the energy that had been sapped from him throughout the years. "Should I keep an eye out for any cigarettes?" the young man joked.
"Hell, you find any Red & Gold's I'll give you my rations for a week." The blissful feeling of their small reconciliation evaporated as a terrifyingly familiar voice crashed out from one of the side rooms of the rest stop, shaking Pete to his core.
“Jesus H Christ, it is you! Old Peter Randall himself!” Then the figure emerged from a doorway and the moment was destroyed. The man had a scruffy complexion with a thin graying mustache, piercing blue eyes and a rough, grating voice. He was dressed in hunting attire and shouldered a crossbow, complete with arrows tucked away in his belt.
The light from the noon sun shined off of his balding head, but the man still possessed more hairs than Pete could claim to.
“Oh my God,” Pete whispered. “It can’t be. No. No no no no no…”
“What’s wrong, Pete? Ain’t you glad to see your old buddy Wayne again?” The man squinted for a moment before his eyes fixed themselves on Luke and widened in surprise. “That can’t be… Luke? Is that really you?”
“Pete,” Luke whispered back, “Who the hell is the guy?”
“He’s bad news” Pete said, attempting to conceal his trembling. “This guy is about the last person we wanted to meet out here. We gotta lose him.”
Before Luke could inquire, Wayne was stomping toward the two with a jovial expression. “So Pete,” Wayne shouted. “Where’s Nick?”
Pete snapped at him with a righteous fury. “I got no idea,” he lied. “I ain’t seen him since this all started.”
Wayne let out a deep, throaty chuckling. “That’s a good one, Pete,” Wayne mocked, resting his hands on his knees. “My bullshit detector is as good as yours, and right now it's saying that you’re full of it. Now tell me where Nick is," Wayne drawled, taking a perverse pleasure in drawing out his words. "After all, it’s been too long since I saw my son.”
“SON?!” Luke cried. “Pete, what the hell is going on?”
Pete’s voice shook as the old man felt what little remained of his world collapse all around him and fall into shards at his feet. “This is Wayne Brewer,” he struggled to say. “Nick’s father.”
Anyways, like I mentioned to TinyCarlos earlier today this is a pre-Season 2 story with some focus on Pete, and to a lesser extent Luke and Nick. This idea just came to me a few days ago and I had to write it down. Yes, I know I should be working on "Journey's End", the story that wraps up the loose ends from Inferno. Yes, it'll be here eventually. Sometime after Episode 5 releases. Anyways, without further ado, here's Part 1 of what is looking like a 3-4 Part story...
512 Days In
“...and six months later, we were flat broke. Lost every dime we had.”
“And why is it that I’m just hearing about this now, Luke?” Pete’s look of disbelief and subtle disappointment was cutting. The two men strode down a cracked and sun-baked street less than a mile outside the city limits of Ashland. Signs of the devastation littered the landscape around the two, signaling the end of an era of mankind. The sun was high in the sky, its rays attempting to beat the two into submission with the sweltering summer heat. Luke took the high temperatures in stride, but the older Pete was suffering under the relentless assault with sweat dripping from his bare head.
Luke shrugged. “Nick didn’t want to tell you we lost all our money. He told me to keep it a secret because he thought you’d get mad at him.”
“Damn right I’d have been mad,” Pete growled. “What kinda idiot would think that that was a good idea for a business? And how much money did you lose again?”
“Too much,” Luke sheepishly admitted.
“Goddamn,” Pete sighed as he and Luke continued their trek, weapons in hand, down the road in search of supplies. “And all these years here I was thinking that he blew it on that…” Pete struggled with the name more than he cared to admit. “That thing you and him played games on, what was it…”
“It’s called an Xbox, Pete,” Luke laughed. “It doesn’t cost that much. Not by a long shot.”
“I remember that you’d come over and you and Nick would be up all night playing that one game, uh…”
Luke stifled another small chuckle. “Halo.”
“What?”
“The game was called Halo, Pete.”
“Eh, I don’t understand it,” Pete grunted, refocusing on the road ahead of him as his feet dragged across the heated concrete beneath him, warming his shoes. “Those video game things. All the channels on TV now. Everything. Back when I was Nick’s age, we weren’t able to do even half of the things that people could do just before all of this started.”
“Pete, what are-”
“Times are just so different. Especially these days,” he rambled on, gesturing around at the devastation they passed. “I got no idea what that boy’s thinkin', you know?”
“Uh, Pete…?”
“Huh?” The old man looked back to Luke, snapping out of his rant. “Oh. Sorry.”
Luke edged a few inches closer to the older man, and spoke with concern in his voice. “Pete, are you alright? Is something wrong?”
“No.” Pete looked away to the side with a sigh. “Yes.”
“What is it?”
“I’m just… tryin' to figure out where it all went wrong. With me and Nick. Most of the time it just feels like we’re from different worlds. We’re never on the same wavelength. I tried to understand back before the Plague, but everything was so different from when me and his mother were growing up. I just can't... comprehend it. The way he thinks. You and him and your whole generation just... grew up different than mine did. I think. I wish I knew.”
“Well that’s how it goes, I guess” Luke noted somberly. “Things just keep moving forward. Changing.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Pete said. “But it feels like somewhere along the way I got left behind and just never realized it.”
“I don’t think any of that stuff matters anymore,” Luke stated. “You’re the only family Nick’s got left now. That’s gotta count for more than just growing up different, right?”
“What do you mean? You’re here too, Luke.”
“Excuse me?” The younger man stopped in his tracks for a second.
“You heard me,” Pete said. “You’ve known Nick and me for a good 20 years now. You knew his mother just as long. You and Nick are brothers if I ever saw them. As far as I’m concerned that makes you family."
“Oh… well… thanks, Pete. I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say nothin’,” the old man continued. “Family’s more than just blood. Especially in times like these.”
“Yeah, family…” Luke answered absently.
There were several moments of silence before Pete spoke again. “I don’t want to bring up any bad memories,” he hesitated, “But I’m real sorry about your folks. They were good people.”
Luke picked up his pace. “That’s in the past now, alright? They’re gone.”
“I just don’t think I ever got around to tellin’ you that,” Pete confessed. “There was so much happenin’ in those early days. We were always on the run barely ahead of the lurkers, no time to think or nothin’. Anyway, I just wanted to say it. They did right by you, the way they raised you. I’m sure they’d be proud.”
“Just let it go,” Luke commanded. “I don’t wanna… just leave it in the past, okay?”
“Okay. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said nothin’.”
“Hey,” Luke said, pointing to an abandoned rest stop on the side of the road. “There might be something in there. Let’s check it out.”
“Maybe,” Pete considered. “Let’s take it slow. After what happened last week I don’t want to take any risks we don’t need to.”
The two crept toward the rest stop, weapons raised. An old car or two lay nearby, rusting in the sun while the men slid the door of the rest stop open and stepped into the main room.
“Wait,” Luke said, stopping the two. “Pete?”
“Yeah?” the old man turned to him, waiting.
“Thanks,” Luke muttered. A warm smile sprang to life on the old man’s face, restoring a bit of the energy that had been sapped from him throughout the years. "Should I keep an eye out for any cigarettes?" the young man joked.
"Hell, you find any Red & Gold's I'll give you my rations for a week." The blissful feeling of their small reconciliation evaporated as a terrifyingly familiar voice crashed out from one of the side rooms of the rest stop, shaking Pete to his core.
“Jesus H Christ, it is you! Old Peter Randall himself!” Then the figure emerged from a doorway and the moment was destroyed. The man had a scruffy complexion with a thin graying mustache, piercing blue eyes and a rough, grating voice. He was dressed in hunting attire and shouldered a crossbow, complete with arrows tucked away in his belt.
The light from the noon sun shined off of his balding head, but the man still possessed more hairs than Pete could claim to.
“Oh my God,” Pete whispered. “It can’t be. No. No no no no no…”
“What’s wrong, Pete? Ain’t you glad to see your old buddy Wayne again?” The man squinted for a moment before his eyes fixed themselves on Luke and widened in surprise. “That can’t be… Luke? Is that really you?”
“Pete,” Luke whispered back, “Who the hell is the guy?”
“He’s bad news” Pete said, attempting to conceal his trembling. “This guy is about the last person we wanted to meet out here. We gotta lose him.”
Before Luke could inquire, Wayne was stomping toward the two with a jovial expression. “So Pete,” Wayne shouted. “Where’s Nick?”
Pete snapped at him with a righteous fury. “I got no idea,” he lied. “I ain’t seen him since this all started.”
Wayne let out a deep, throaty chuckling. “That’s a good one, Pete,” Wayne mocked, resting his hands on his knees. “My bullshit detector is as good as yours, and right now it's saying that you’re full of it. Now tell me where Nick is," Wayne drawled, taking a perverse pleasure in drawing out his words. "After all, it’s been too long since I saw my son.”
“SON?!” Luke cried. “Pete, what the hell is going on?”
Pete’s voice shook as the old man felt what little remained of his world collapse all around him and fall into shards at his feet. “This is Wayne Brewer,” he struggled to say. “Nick’s father.”