5 Mayor Vycter

Besides the noise of the rain, the forest was quiet. No birds, no frogs, not even mosquitoes or flies.

Every living creature had taken shelter from the weather. Two days of non-stop rain..... He couldn't remember the last time he had been in this kind of soaked wet condition on a voluntary basis. During his time in the army, perhaps.

Although his mind worked at 100 mph, his eyes stayed fixed, scoping between the trees. While raindrops ran from his cap into his now very full gray beard, he just moved the slightest bit to get his painful arm in a slightly better position. The crossbow weighed a ton, almost as much as a full-on rifle. But it's not the place or time to break the peaceful silence with the sound of gunshots.

His eyes grew smaller till they were barely thin lines. Some movement in a distance…. Then a few seconds of total silence. Even the rain seemed to hold its breath,… then a click, a very dim whistling sound, and a blunt thump 30 meters away.

A hunter, happy with his kill, would rise with the pride of his achievement and immediately run towards his prey. He did not. Minutes go by before he went silently towards his kill.

Decent-sized wild boar, he thought, as he broke the arrow, wrapped the animal in plastic and cloth. There is no chance in hell he would dare to pull out the arrow and hit an artery. He even buried a few drops of blood from the wound in the mud and left.

He swung the animal over his shoulder and got up. With his 1m 88, he is already a tall man, but 50 or 60 kilos of meat made him look like a force to be reckoned with.

After a small hike, his quad bike emerges on the horizon, carefully covered with leaves and branches.

It's an old model that has seen its best days years ago, but in these times, state-of-the-art.

On the side, in big black letters, it says T-101. A joke from the kids in camp. He looked a bit like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Well, he used to.... now with the beard, not so much. But the name kinda stuck on him, and everybody started calling him Arnold. It didn't bother him anymore.

It just crossed his mind that nobody in the camp knew his real name. Maybe for the best, he thought.

Well, I guess the silent mode is over. He grinned and started up the bike. The sound was so loud. It sent a small shiver over his spine, but he just hit the gas and blasted off.

With the boar on the back, the machine was slower than usual but still fast enough to outrun everything on foot.

After ten minutes, he sees the giant gate pop up. Although he's not the man of great emotions, his eyes seem happy to be home again. Well.... "home".... is a big word.

The guards on top of the gate saw him coming, and the gate swung open just before he reached it. It closed evenly fast as he rode underneath the giant Oblivious name sign above the gate. He parks the Quad as Trey, responsible for the garage, helps him put the quad away from the rain.

"Got lucky, Arnold?" Trey asked, looking at the package on the quad.

"Yep, I sometimes do," Arnold said without emotion.

"Well, we did too," said Trey and pointed at the giant furnace.

Arnold stared for a few seconds as he saw four bodies being dumped in the fire. He sighed and murmured, "fucking mutants," as he walked away towards a home, which was just a small hut near the gate, and dry clothes.

---- o ----

At that very moment, Fire's convoy was on the way back to their settlement. The survivors from Turkey's farm occupied one bus. They left in grief the 'home' they had known for years or months. In Kross's case was a day. They mourned while they hurriedly buried their loved ones and friends.

However, as they left, no one turned their backs, even the kids. They knew this day would come and were waiting for their turn someday. Somehow, one silent red-headed man held a note in his pocket while watching his companions on the bus.

Still confused, he kept the note in his front pocket. Kross set his mind on finding the lost Marcus and hearing the truth from that enigmatic man.

The wind caressed Kross's face as his wavy hair tousled on his cheeks. Suddenly, the scent of fresh pine leaves and raw barks entered his nose, alerting him back to life. Then he heard the children at the back chattered excitedly about what they saw outside. He turned to look at the source of the commotion. What he saw made his eyes grow round and the sides of his mouth curved into a smile.

They were in a mountain pass full of tall trees to their left. Shrubberies blanketed with colorful blooming flowers covered the ground. He even saw a chipmunk with bulging cheeks running on a tree branch. It might have stolen some nuts somewhere. He made a deep sigh. The note preoccupied his mind and didn't notice they had entered the mountains and missed seeing the flourishing lands.

"Where are we now, Sir?" Kross asked the old man driving beside him.

"We are in the mountain region."

"Which part? South or North?"

The driver turned his head, somewhat confused, but shrugged and his attention went back on the road. "South. North is nothing but a dead zone now."

Kross's forehead wrinkled. "Really? Are you sure? I grew up there but left in my teens. My family used to have a mountain lodge over there."

"Forget it. It's a dead man's land now. Here's good. Land of the living, I say."

Kross's spirit went low as he imagined the present state of his lovely homeland. The meadow where he ran like a frenzied puppy before while laughing at his big sister who was getting red in anger while chasing him could now be a desolate land full of graves. His heart ached just thinking of it. However, he shook his head. This was a reality. No point in grieving.

Out of habit, he looked around to implant in his mind the areas they passed. He recalled, first, they went through the towns, including where his house was, no longer his home. It was almost noon when they left. They stopped at a town to ransack an abandoned grocery. Good thing only a few mutants were there and burned them all. After leaving that town, they camped at an abandoned apple orchard and ate the leftover fruits for lunch.

Kross shifted his sight outside and saw a tree's meter and a half-long shadow at the left. It was high noon when they departed. That meant they had traveled for three hours now.

"How far are we to our destination?"

"Not that long. Patience, son. We will be home soon." The old man's smiling, wrinkled face appeased his heart.

"Sir, how long have you been with these survivors?"

"Fab's the name. I've been Vycter's family driver and until now."

"Vycter?" The name sounds familiar to him.

"Sir Fire's family name. His father was our great mayor Luke Vycter of Brown Stone City, and he died saving the people. What a great hero, my idol." He sniffed, but his face remained nonchalant.

He didn't notice the elder's sadness. Instead, Kross's excitement boiled in him. "Wow, his father is the well-respected mayor? My father was formerly one of the mayor's bodyguards. I met the great man years ago. I was still a li'l boy then. I admire that man's tenacity very much."

The driver's eyes unusually sharpened, but his eyes were still on the road. "Ya'r father a police officer?"

"Yep, but my Dad transferred to Palms… so I didn't know he died. I mean the mayor." His voice slightly faded in between lines. The old man's eyes softened, hearing his choking voice.

"We passed by the place. It might be hard on ya."

He forced a smile, knowing the man saw through him. This was unlike him. He seldom talked to strangers and kept his problems to himself. But he couldn't understand why he was like an open book to this elderly driver.

"Hahaha, don't mind me. It's in the past. Anyway, there was no one like Mayor Luke. He accomplished a lot where no one did. His son is surely proud of him..."

He tried to hide his pain by talking nonstop about his father with the mayor, but the caring elderly understood him well.

"Just hang on, son. The world won't be the same again, but don't give up. Get stronger instead. This is how we survived nowadays." Fab softly said.

Those words were enough for the twisting pain of losing his family, fiancee, life, future, everything inside him to unwind. Tears were about to fall but breathed a good amount of air to keep the liquid from falling from his eye ducts.

Fab sensed his neighbor's difficulty and bent to his side, pulled a water bottle, and handed it to Kross without looking at him.

Kross looked at the elderly and smiled. "Thank you." And took the bottle, sipping it slowly while keeping his emotions from bursting out.

The bus turned a bend and went uphill. Minutes after, "Here we are," Fab said as they reached an enormous gate with the sign 'Oblivious' on top.