Expect the Unexpected

Jonathan took the time and effort to bury the two scavengers he had killed in a shallow grave outside of town. It was necessary.

The nauseating stench of rotting flesh in the open was not as bad as a dragon swooping down to feast on the carcasses before deciding to flush out the people hiding in town by razing it to the ground.

It had happened before. Numerous times, in fact.

Burning the corpses weren't a viable option either, as dragons were like sharks in water. They had the ability to smell cooked flesh from many miles away. It wasn't necessary human flesh either.

Any kind of cooked flesh would invite them to come and dine, unleashing destructions in the process, therefore, it was generally unsafe to cook out in the open. Even indoor, it was considered a risk, but it was an acceptable risk.

Using meat, it was possible to lure a dragon into an ambush, but such ambush always had resulted in the deaths of all those involved. It was extremely difficult if not outright impossible to kill a dragon.

Yet, in spite of that, there were those who would lure a dragon after all these years. Not to try and kill one or anything of the sort.

It was more like inviting them to rain destruction upon their enemies or rivals. Why waste unnecessary manpower and ammunitions when a dragon could do it for totally free?

The only problem with this method was that the dragon does not always leave after it have had feasted upon everything in sight. It could decide to stay and sleep or make a long-term nest. Therefore, it was exceedingly risking of luring a dragon unless one was suicidal.

"Are you using this?"

Thomas asked, referring to the motorcycle. He was too old to ride one himself, but it could be traded for the things that he needed, assuming that he did not get backstabbed. Literally speaking.

Jonathan took a moment to consider. Having a motorcycle was good for long distance travel, assuming one did not attract unwanted attentions. And as long as there was fuel and regular maintenance done, the motorcycle would last for a long time.

That said, the real prize was not the motorcycle itself. It was what were inside the motorcycle.

"You can have the parts after I am done," Jonathan responded and went to search for a large container and a hose. He returned ten minutes later from the nearby abandoned shops, finding the old man to be nowhere in sight.

Thomas was likely hiding in a basement somewhere.

Whenever one was not looking for foods and medicines, it was better to hold up in a well secured and defendable place, preferably underground and completely out of sight.

There was always an inherent risk when relocating from one location to another for whatever reason.

The risk wasn't always from dragons in the sky but from other scavengers and looters as well. This had become a lawless landscape where the most cunning and cruel survived, but that was not always true.

And with diminishing resources and almost nonexistence medial supplies, the state of things become only grimmer as more time passed. Still, the remnants of the human race continued to endure despite a desolate future.

Jonathan paid no mind to where Thomas had gone since he had his own things to attend to. Returning back to the motorcycle, he opened the gas tank and drained all the fuel into the plastic container.

High octane fuel was one of the commodities in the new world due to its non-renewable status. Thus, using it for transportation was wasteful considering that it could be used in camping stoves for cooking or similar.

Indoors cooking, of course.

Sure, vehicular fuels did not burn as cleanly as some of other type of fuels, but beggar can't be chooser, and Jonathan would make do with what he had.

Once the tank was drained of its flammable liquids, Jonathan began the journey home. He recovered what remained of his rope since it could be used for something else along with his shotgun. With two backpacks, three weapons and a large plastic container weighing him down, the journey towards the bunker with knees high snow was going to be difficult.

But it was doable, considering that night would come soon. No one in their right mind would want to stay out in the dark. Shadows stirred in the darkness when all lights were gone. Even dragons appeared to not venture out unless they must.

Something must have spooked them really good. Or perhaps, they were not truly the apex predators.

In any case, it really had nothing to do with Jonathan at the moment. His immediate concerns were to find supplies for survivals and stay alive for as long as possible, and he was good at it.

By the time Jonathan reached the bunker, it was already late in the evening.

The sun was about to set in the horizon, and vast shadows soon loomed over the entire snowy forest.

Jonathan stopped near the blast door into the bunker and examined the surroundings, making utterly sure that there was no one in sight and that he was not followed.

He could never be too careful in this day and age.

The forest remained eerily silent as Jonathan did the same. There was no sound whatsoever. All kinds of forest critters had starved or frozen to death a long time ago, at least that was what Jonathan had observed.

Real meat was a luxury. One that would cost a fortune to enjoy.

Once Jonathan was sure that it was completely safe, he dug though the snow to uncover a small handle buried underneath. Pulling the handle, which in turn pulled the lever, allowing the blast door into the bunker to be unlocked.

A small opening could be seen within the shrouded bush, and Jonathan widened the opening with his strength, pulling the blast door open. He then dumped his loots through the blast door before turning around to see the last ray of sunlight from the tree lines.

Darkness had come, and with it, a new sort of danger. One that appeared not so long ago, and it was more mysterious than that of the dragons. At least, dragons were visible and could be countered. An unseen enemy was not.

Jonathan entered the bunker and closed the blast door behind him, sealing him inside and protecting him from the danger outside.

Faint red light illuminated the small corridor before him and allowed him to haul off the loots towards the storage area, the only other room besides the room he usually slept in.

There were many things stashed there, mostly useful items that Jonathan had scavenged throughout the years.

Even if they had lost their usefulness, he had not discarded them. This wasn't due to some sentimental values they hold, but rather, he feared that he might need them in the future.

It was better to have them when he needed them than not.

Jonathan spent the next hour going through all the supplies that he had brought back, stashing them into their rightful area, so he could get them without needing to spend any time searching for them.

It was more effective that way.

He also spent time calculating the amount of foods and water available and estimated when he would need to venture out once more.

It was a risk scavenging for supplies, but he had no choice. Even if he had enough material on hand to start a small farm, there was insufficient space and sunlight. Not to mention the freezing temperature outside.

Any kind of plants would simply die. Except for that strange white grasses, which seemingly thrived in such a deadly climate.

Recalling what Thomas had told him, Jonathan would check whether what he had said was true. Even if he believed Thomas, he would still need to see it for himself.

Confirmation was necessary, especially for survival.

That said, Jonathan made a note, reminding himself to check those grasses the next time he ventured out of the bunker. It was not significantly important alone for him to leave the bunker.

And so, days passed by. Then weeks, and then something strange happened outside. Something that had never happened before in the years that Jonathan had made a little home here.

Snow had stopped falling.