Logbook #000 - The Tribe That Helps

The silhouette of a being came into her sight, the lass slowly gained her consciousness to a full. 'Did you kill it? Did you fuc-' Her mouth was silenced with a small Shh- that the being resonated. 'Yes. It's no more, it's dead.' The being responded.

With some sort of metallic piece on the being's neck, it started to talk to someone. 'Got another one of those bastards. Yes, yes, a Banshee. There's a civilian here, slightly injured. Could you come here and help, please. I got my location in the GPS, you do not have to worry." The being shook his head slightly as he turned back to the lass.

'You alright there? That was one brave escape, those things are quite a handful and are quite dangerous. I a surprised you survived from its clutches.' The being spoke in a very calming and relaxing tone, rather masculine but not too deep or raspy. Something among the lines of a middle-ground of confidence.

The lass slowly opened her mouth. 'Thank you, sir. Whatever that thing was, it's gone now anyway. Thank you. I don't wish to know what it will do once it latches upon its prey, its disgusting to even look at it anyway.' The lass described.

The being smiled, noticed by the lass. Her sight regained. She noticed a tall and slender figure. Its hairs scruffy and long and it had a not-so-neatly shaved beard. Its eyes had small bags from the lag of sleep. Yes, eye, His other was covered by uncut hair, too long and purposely left to cover its long scar that is slightly spotted. A leather patch fittingly roped around the scar, to probably heal and cover its sight from bacteria or passerbys. A ragged cloak with patches similar to a lumber-man covered and wrapped around his clothing, an old military uniform slightly torn and worn off, small patches of unknown cloth was stitched onto it as a vest and a pair of dog tags were the only things left fresh and clean.

'Who are you?' The lass asked. 'Are you part of the military?'

'Me? Well, I was. But that's a long time ago.' He answered. ' I 'ave been shooting those damn beings all my life, trying to help humanity for a damn cause. Their like bloody rats, they are so damn slick and spread around like the bubonic plague during the 14th century, I think.'

He cleared his throat, he probably accidentally swallowed some sand that smacked onto his face. 'Well, I am just glad you are alright miss. I got a friend that can help patch you up before we take you back home, wherever it may be.'

Looking at the cave entrance, the man stood next to her and watched the darkness alongside her. 'I guess you are a regular here, I can see it in your face.' The man asked with a small smile.

The lass smiled back and gave a short nod. 'I used to come here all the time after training or hunting. It's like a secondary house for me but without the noise of the village children playing about outside.'

'I see, that makes some sense. Hunting huh? Makes sense why you are holding onto that gun. Its rare to see a gun user nowadays, the production had been abandoned centuries ago and only a few percentage of them exist now. From the looks of it, it seems to be a Heckler and Koch production. The ninth model to be precise. What's strange though, is that thing usually runs 9 by 19mm cartridges yet yours has .5s. Is it customized or was it fixed on by different gun parts?'

The lass shook her head. 'I don't actually know. This gun was passed down by my mother before...well she ended up sick and paralyzed. She said this gun is special and so I trained with it every day and night. To not only protect her but also my siblings in case of wild animals or even this thing that happened.' She pointed towards the dead lump of flesh that stood idle on the ground.

The man chuckled softly as a sound of a motor vehicle sounded from nearby, it echoed throughout the dunes and made an abrupt stop.' Well, the medic is here. Now, there's, nothing to worry about.'

The lass nods and rest herself by the cave's entrance walls. Very little gave space to rest and there was much of an edge to avoid falling from.

'So, whereas the civilian NZ?' A voice sounded towards the man and the girl. The man pointed towards the lass and gave a soft sigh. 'There, you blind? I am going to grab something for that lass, so don't ask me Where Am I Going." He teased his medic friend before walking down from the cave pathway.

'Ok, ok..." The medic sighed it off. 'Don't worry about NZ, he is an oddball.'

The medic was much of a feminine figure. As a typical medic, she was donned in slight of a white uniform, typical white garments for a doctor including the suit. She wore a vest however and had a cap on. Slightly torn, a patch that was forcibly ripped was once home for a patch of an organization or even brand name. A medical red cross was patched onto her vest as she had multiple equipment on her including a walkies-talkie, a smartphone and also a doctor's bag, ready to keep and sterilize equipment.

Wait, a smartphone? That's a rare equipment by itself, they are an old century of communicative devices itself. The lass was filled with curiosity on what the two people had on them. Her wounds being applied ointment and patched up with bandages, she was slowly raised up and assisted towards the bike.

'Hope you can walk, this will be rather steep to get off from.' The medic said.

The lass smiled and nods as she slowly tip toed her way down from the barely floored edge of the small hill from the cave. It was rather hard to get down from there, but she got so used to t, it felt like nothing for her. The only thing disturbing her was her sprains that lightning bolted onto her from time to time. 'Don't worry, I will be fine for now. Thanks!' The lass spoked as she slowly reached down. The medic following her, she headed towards her bike. 'She's an energetic one..Even after almost dying to one of those Banshees.'

'Shush-, let her be. Now all we have to worry about is where the hell her village is. Or should we just let her stay in our village for now? I mean if she is from nearby here, she could be one of the allied clans kin.' NZ said. Watching the lass over, she was curiously looking at the 4-wheeled sand buggy.'I mean, she doesn't seem to be afraid of us, even though she looks quite much of a young adult. So I guess it could be fine.'

'I guess so?' The medic replied.

'Hey girl, you don't mind following us back to our village? Our chief could maybe help to contact your village to come get you tomorrow morning, if that is fine by you.' NZ called out to her as she was busily tapping onto the dash cam that was placed by the sand buggy's front view mirror.

'Sure!' she shouted. 'I mean, I am sure your village is allied with my village if we're living nearby. No harm then.' She gave a calming smile and opened the back door of the sand buggy.'Can we go now, I haven't been in a car for so long.'

NZ laughed himself off as he headed towards the Driver's assistant seat, to the right. The medic sat herself down and took out her keys. Giving a little charge up of the vehicle, she soon drove through the sandstorm. Heading towards the direction of their village. To cover themselves from the sand smacking their face, they wrap themselves a piece of cloth. NZ helped out the lass to cover herself, her scarf wouldn't do as it had many holes finely too thin.

The village rather rustic and ancient in nature was the only thing standing for now. Metallic scraps of walls and barricades, houses partially made of brick stones and wood, it wasn't really a pleasant way of living. It felt more of a rundown factory with random boxes here and there. A flag shown on a flagpole was nearby, a symbol of an ancient man-of-arms badge. That would have been the chief's family crest, the lass thought.

It was getting quite dark, the only light that was illuminating the village was the small oil lamps and torches placed about, an oil generator affixed to some wire of bulbs and the sand buggy's front lights. It may not be home for other villages with their own living styles but this was the home NZ and The Medic accepted to live by. The lass respected their way of living even if it could be deemed dangerous with its serrated edges of scraps.

'We're here.' NZ called out. 'The Winosa Clans' Village.'

'The Winosa Clan, huh? It sounds rather familiar.' The lass replied. 'I will think about it later. What will happen now?' She asked

NZ opened his car door and hopped off the sand buggy, balancing himself, he wipes the sand off his rugged up jeans. 'Now, we rest. We will deal with the problem later.' He opens the door of the lass and gently hold her arm as she got off. 'Thanks. Though, I could have handle it myself.'

'No problem. Have you eaten dinner yet? If you didn't, I will ask my wife to give some of the food she prepared. Medic here will get you a room to rest in for the night, before the darned sandstorm reach its apex.' As NZ guided the lass while following Medic , they headed towards a house that Medic stopped by.

She shuffled through a set of keys she carries by her side pockets and picks a rusted old metal key, taped with a black and yellow string on it. 'Well, here we go. Be our guest.' Medic smiles and opens the door. Inside was greeted with some partially shadowed furniture that was soon brightened by oil lamps that NZ quickly lighted with a small.

As quickly and excitedly she could have called it home, the lass plumps herself onto the couch nearby, by its side a small coffee table laden with some books and dried out flowers, a soft and light smell of lavender, interesting.

'I guess I can take my leave. Oh wait, here.' NZ heads towards the lass with something he clutched up by his right hand's palm. 'Gimme your hand, take it.' The lass reached her hand out slightly confused yet acceptably took the offer. NZ leaves an object by the palm of the lass, a crystal of sort, secured by a crown of metal and a small chain, a necklace.

'What's this?' The lass replied in a daze of confusion.

'You will need it, it will help you.'

'What no, I refuse. It looks too valuable to be accepted that easily.' she replied as she holds onto openly the necklace.

'It's not like that. This crystal is special. Take it, like, an eastern good luck charm. Something like that.' NZ explained. The lass sighed softly before she puts it on. 'Fine. Just don't go crying afterwards that you need it later. You only gave it sir.'

NZ nods and gives a small chuckle before he nods slowly to Medic who was standing by the door entrance. 'I will be back soon. You two talk it out or something for the time being. I will have to notify chief to contact the neighbor tribes if they loss one of their own.' NZ closes the door slightly making sure it doesn't lock.

The Medic removes her cap and scarf and places it on a coat rack that rested besides the door. A face similar to a light Hispanic figure. She walks slowly towards the lass and sat the opposite of her, a rest chair slightly broken and rotten, holding up by an inch with small sticks of metal rods and badly plasma torched metal sheets. Though its seat was still rather comfortable.

' How are you miss? Are you alright there?' The Medic asks

'Hmm, comfortable. I can say. Thanks for putting up the trouble to put me under care after what happened. I mean what if that thing got me. Whatever that, "Banshee", you so put it, it was too hard to describe.'

The Medic nods. 'OK.'

'Nice to meet you, the names Dr. Au, also known as Aug. Tell me, what is your name and your clans name. It would help to know more about you so I can report to the chief.'

'Me?' The lass made a surprised face. "Well I come from the Welter Tribe. Just off south-east from here, I think. Mary is my name, nice to meet you, doctor.

'Nice to meet you, Mary.' Dr.Aug replied as she stayed quiet for some time, thinking up something in her head. Mary, slightly in unease by her behavior started to twirl her lock of hair, chewing on it slowly on it as if it was her only source of food.

'The Welter Tribe. Then you are an allied clan then. Not really far off from here and quite a good company in regards of trading arms and materials. I am surprised we stumbled upon a fair maiden at this parts. I used to be one myself, though by times of end and the many warring I have been through, well that's how I look now. Scars, wounds and stitches. What possibly there could be more? Hence, that is why other than just wearing my medic fatigue's, I also cover myself with a dune's hat and multiple layers of fabric robes. Just the trick to hide my many pains to envoy the natural beauty. You get me?' Dr.Aug softly asked with a small and short laugh.

Mary still chewing her food, made a nod at her with a small smile. "I ahm listhening..." she mumbles while she was chewing the food. Swallowing it, she sips some water that was poured for her recently by Dr.Aug. 'Yeah, I get you. Anything more?' She asked curiously in a very chipper tone.

Dr.Aug with her closed slit eyes, made a small smile and shakes her head. "Not today honey. The story is for another day. Now you ought to sleep, because I am exhausted." The doctor grinned and slowly pulled herself up. 'Well, I will take a move now! You can rest by the bed over there, make yourself comfortable, alright. Don't worry, we will get you home tomorrow.' She waved goodbye to Mary as she proceeded to head towards the entrance door.

'Fine...' Mary said, as she sees off the doctor that took her belongings, waving to the doctor before she closes the door.

...

Digging through a suitcase that Mary curiously found under the bed, she unhinged the flaps of it and read through the contents. Other than old lamented paper with yellow wilts and some smudged paper ink of cursive writing, she stumbled upon amounts of small tapes, a tape recorder and a small diary.

Searching over the many tapes that had labels of numbers on it, she found what she was looking for. A sound tape wrapped with a yellow sticker written number "1".

As she put in the tape into the recorder, she found out that the recorder was specially made with a crystal-like rod in exchange for a typical lithium battery. 'Interesting...' She whispered. Pressing the play button on the recorder, the tape started rolling.

A very light masculine voice could be heard. With a soft breathe of air, a sound of throat clearing could be heard.

"Log 1....Tape start."