Part 2
### Chapter 1: Chapter 1
After it all happened, the Plague created what feels like a whole new world. Survivors created new lives for themselves and carried on with their lives.
Me? I didn't get the chance to create a new life. Thanks to my absolutely wonderful father figure, I was forced to become an entirely different person. Thankfully I was able to escape his peachy influence and take some control of my new life.
What I don't know is the Plague brought on after effects. Everything changed eleven years ago and only a few knew what actually happened after billions of people died. That all changes one-day though and I found my life completely flipped upside down.
Cheers to The After Effects.
Complete Chapters 40
Rating 4.8 ( 22 reviews ) Age Rating mature
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Unmarked Graves
The stench of decomposing bodies filled the decrepit house, making me choke on a gag.
The house had caught my attention a mile away mostly due to its modest size and somewhat nicer appearance, at least nicer than the other houses in the cul-de-sac. I immediately regretted my decision as soon as I crawled in through the kitchen window.
Despite the somewhat new appearance of the bodies, I was still shocked to see the horrible shape they were in. Savagely and brutally murdered, the women most likely defiled, I knew exactly who had ruined these people. Sadly, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was once a happy family.
A voice in my head urged me to keep moving, especially since it was apparent that the Vikings were near, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for the bodies spread out around what once used to be a living room.
I knew there was no point in searching the house. The Vikings would have already cleared it. So I instead went out back and found a shovel in the shed. I caught myself thanking my past self for leaving early this evening.
Wasting no extra time, I began digging four separate graves. The two kids’ graves took less time as they were smaller than the parents, but each grave still took two hours apiece. As much as I wanted to dig each grave six feet deep, I had no time for that.
Eight long hours later, I stood in front of four semi-deep graves, covered in sweat and almost regretting my decision. It took me another hour to move and bury the family of four.
I knew I had to leave the graves unmarked. Because the Vikings were not above grave digging and the last thing this family needs is to be violated anymore.
With my night almost completely gone, I glanced at the horizon to see if the sun was peaking over it. Luckily it seemed I had another hour before dawn. A whole night gone...
Somewhat remorsefully, I left the graves and started my trek to The Black Forest. As if the black forest wasn’t dark enough in the daylight, it was near impossible to see in the dark. Hence why I travel at night and sleep in the trees in the day.
The Black Forest covers most of this continent, making it quite an ideal place to travel through, plus the Vikings avoid it due to the many trees and the fact that it's so dark in here, it'd be impossible for them to travel swiftly through here.
Thanks to three years of traveling at night, my eyes have become quite adjusted to the darkness. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have superior eyesight to the everyday human.
I felt the temperature drop and my eyes adjust as I entered the strange environment of the Black Forest.
The mossy floor seemed to welcome my boots as I stepped deeper and deeper into the forest that’s almost felt like home. Tall and ancient trees towered over my 5′8 body, making me smile at the familiarity.
An hour into my walk in the forest I paused. The snap of a branch caught my attention. I smiled as I walked to the nearest tree and kicked my old cowboy boots against the trunk of it three times.
My signal must’ve worked as not even ten seconds later heavy footsteps started thudding towards me. A grunt was my only warning as a two thousand pound stallion barreled into my back.
I remained facing forward as a black nose went over my shoulder in my peripheral. Steam rose from his nose as he huffed a greeting to me.
Ragnar stomped his foot when I ignored him. Such a drama queen.
Grinning, I turned and faced the massive stallion.
“Hello Ragnar.” I started scratching his nose as he glared at me. “You baby. I wasn’t even gone that long.”
I swear he rolled his eyes. Ragnar brought his nose to my hands and he huffed and recoiled slightly.
“Oh right.” I looked down at my bloody hands and chest. That must’ve happened when I was burying the bodies.
“Sorry.” I cringed and tried to rub the blood on my palms on my jeans. My apology must’ve been enough as Ragnar stuck his nose to my neck and nuzzled me.
Weirdo. It was my turn to roll my eyes as I walked around to his side and made to jump on his back. He read my cue and lowered himself as much as possible for me.
Even after three years of having this horse, his intelligence never ceases to amaze me. Once seated on top of Ragnar’s massive back, I gave him a quiet whistle he knew meant he could start moving.
My eyes and ears studied the forest as Ragnar stepped over fallen trees and ducked under branches.
Although this place is familiar, there's always this mysterious air about it. Many nights, I'm awoken from slumber thanks to unknown sounds that would make most people turn and run. And though I know I should run or try to identify what creates those strange sounds, I never actually leave the safety of my tree.
Ducking my head under a low lying branch, I pat Ragnar's thick neck as he navigates the path out.
Three years ago, when I was stumbling around in the darkness of the Black Forest, I found Ragnar also stumbling around. He seemed no older than a year and instantly stuck too me. Since then he’s followed me around like a dog, and this past year, I started riding him during the day.
I typically only ride him when we have to go to Everest. Everest, the capital of the South, was where I stayed when I needed a bed to sleep in rather than a tree branch and it’s also where I sold my findings.
Ragnar knew the way and without any help from me, began our two-hour trek to the capital of the south.
As much as I wanted to doze off, I forced myself to stay alert. The smooth rocking of Ragnar beneath me certainly didn’t help either.
I watched as the sun started to rise over the hills and plains of the country. Most of our trip was plains, but close to the end, dirt roads pointed us towards Everest.
Cities, roads, and many modern things use to fill these plains. After the Plague struck and billions of people died, the cities disappeared. Since I was stuck in the North for eight years, I never got to see what happened to them.
The skyscrapers and major city buildings were gone, no sign of them anywhere. I always thought it best to just ignore whatever happened to them, I most likely didn't want to know where they went.
That's the thing about surviving after the Plague. Sometimes it was best to know nothing or little about something, then to search for answers. An example is my mother's death, it's easier to assume she died during the Plague than the alternative.
Every now and then, while traveling in the Black Forest, I would go west. Where I sometimes ran into strange travelers and was often awoken by nightmares that seemed to wash into reality. I always shrugged it off and kept on trekking... Best not to ask questions, I always figure.
I shook my head from my thoughts, focusing on the path in front of Ragnar and I.
The huge stone walls of Everest came into view and I noticed the black and red uniforms of guards walking along the wall.
Ragnar strutted up to the front gate, where two guards stood on either side.
The two guards seemed to curl into themselves as Ragnar came to a stop in front of them, waiting for the solid steel gate to be opened.
“Lady Bjerke.” The guard on the right side nodded. His dirty blonde hair showed he must’ve showered right before his dawn shift.
“Hello Connor.” I purred to the guard. I turned to the guard on the left and tilted my head. “Who’s this?”
“I’m-” The young guard must be fresh in the guard. His clean-cut brown hair and brown eyes would classify him as handsome, plus his youthful ignorance. He had never seen a real war.
“He’s nobody.” Connor cutoff the kid and glared at him. Returning his eyes to me, he forced a pleasant smile on his face. “Enjoy your stay in Everest.” He said just as another guard appeared on the other side of the gate and the gate opened.
“If it isn’t the beloved Lady Bjerke.” The Kings Right Hand grinned at me as Ragnar walked through the gate.
“Ah Herald. The King’s pet. So nice to see you.” I greeted him, but didn’t whistle for Ragnar to stop walking.
Herald’s freshly polished black armor and the rubies embedded in parts of it showcased his power. As if his red cloak wasn’t fancy enough. I could’ve sworn Herald polished his armor daily.
If there was one good thing to say about the King of the South, was that he treated his court and people fairly. Well, compared to the other three kings, that is.
"King Samuel invites you to dinner tonight and expects you to attend." Herald tried to keep pace next to Ragnar, though there was no hope.
I turned and smiled politely at Herald. "Send him a postcard from me, will you?" I didn't wait for his response as I whistled for Ragnar to pick up his pace into a trot.
Ragnar headed straight for the trading post, knowing that's where I always go, as Herald's cursing faded into the usual sounds of Everest.
I smirked as I thought of Herald delivering my message of rejection to the King. How I wish I could see his face when Herald tells him that I won't be accepting his offer for the millionth time. Maybe someday I should stop ignoring the king. But that day isn't today...
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### Chapter 2: Chapter 2
He snorted a goodbye and left me alone.
I watched as he started strutting down the road, kicking and stomping his hoof at bystanders. What a faker..
People marveled at Ragnar, his huge body, and rare presence.
Horses were kind of rare nowadays. In fact, I thought I was going crazy when I first saw him. I have no idea where he came from or who he belonged too, but he didn’t seem to care.
Before the Plague, it seemed that most people who lived in the country had horses. The plague killed not only billions of people, but also livestock and pets. So animals were important but rare. The only exception to that being the North territory, as the Vikings all had horses and many people raised livestock there. Horses and other livestock were typically a sign of wealth as not many people had them and they were expensive to keep.
Luckily for me, Ragnar is an easy keeper. He finds his own food, usually in the Black Forest, and every now and then I sometimes get him some treats, but otherwise Ragnar takes good care of himself.
When we are in Everest though, he's spoiled rotten at the local stable. Since not many horses come through here, the family running the stable loves when we visit.
Before we leave, I slip the family a nice tip along with the bill for caring for him. Plus it's nice to know that I'm helping a family in need.
Most people nowadays don't expect kindness. It's so rare for someone to smile and not curse you out. I guess that's what happens though in this day of age.
Everyone's just doing what they have to survive. Working to feeding their families is most peoples priorities.
I had a family. Parents and siblings. My mother died sometime in the first year of the Plague and my sister... well she died while fighting for me. Something that had motivated me to become who I am today. A cold-blooded killer with a sweet smile. The rest of my family... well... we'll get there someday.
Once Ragnar was out of sight, I turned and entered the trading post. The old sign displaying its name, Lefty's Trading, mirrored the wear and tear of the whole building. Dust coated the window seals and the floorboards whined when weight was put on them. Despite the fading look of the building, I still loved coming here.
"We're closed." An old voice hollered from the back room when I rung the bell at the front desk.
"Aw shucks." I leaned against the counter and sighed.
I heard a distraught sound and footsteps quickly move around the backroom. The splintered wooden door flew open and out stepped Lefty.
His usually grumpy face was split with a smile that reached his eye. His left glass eye spun around helplessly as he limped to the counter, while his right eye was trained on me and my backpack.
"Lady Bjerke, I haven't seen you for a while," Lefty said as he got to the counter and stretched his back. His huge hands rested on the edge of the counter as he talked to me.
"It's literally been two weeks." I rolled my eyes and shouldered my backpack off.
"Like I said, awhile." He watched as I set my bag on the counter and started digging through it. "Did you have much luck?"
I started setting some of my findings on the counter. "Surprisingly yes." Lefty picked some of the items up and inspected them. "I found a barely touched bunker with lots of goodies."
Lefty grinned when he picked up some old bottles of Whiskey that had been weighing down my backpack for nearly a week. "Is this Alcohol?"
"Found it stored in a freezer." He eyed me briefly.
Lefty put the bottles down before he examined the rest of my hall.
I remembered some old jewelry that I also found in a few houses that I pulled out. One of my best scavenging hunts yet.
Lefty took in all the stuff and hummed to himself. "I'll give ya ten coins for the jewelry and fifteen for the whiskey."
I acted like I was debating for a second before I reached over the counter and shook his hand. "Deal."
Despite the fairly good deal, I had no use for the money. In fact, I was in no need for money thanks to my "job" three years ago, but I needed to look like this was how I made money. Otherwise, people would get suspicious and may ask questions.
I honestly didn't care if people in Everest knew my secret. In fact, I think most people in Everest know it actually, but if outsiders got any word of who I really was, there could be problems. So I kept up the scavenging appearance, plus it gave me something to do.
One thing people don't tell you is that life after the apocalypse is boring. Once everyone figures out their place in the new society, life becomes such a bore.
Lefty disappeared into his backroom with my findings and came back with a pouch of coins.
Just for kicks, I opened the pouch and peered inside at the colorful and mismatched coins. Bronze, silver, and gold coins clinked around, all worth the same.
"Well Lefty, It's been a pleasure. I'm going to go drink this all away at the bar now." Lefty chuckled as I waved goodbye and left.
Glancing around, I spotted the sun and figured it to be close to nine in the morning.
Never too early too start drinking, I guess. Shrugging, I walked away from the trading post and toward the local bar.
My worn cowboy's boots crunched on the gravel as I cut across the road. People milled about, getting ready for whatever they do nowadays. Most likely slaving away on a nearby farm, hoping to make some coin for their families.
The Plague luckily left our crops alone, but with no one to tend them for a few years, the fields either became overgrown and crowded or they just died. Once the survivors settled, they began work to create a steady food source for whatever territory they lived in.
The South Territory specializes in corn and potatoes, though they grow lots more species. The East favors their rice and the North deals more in livestock than farming. And the West, well who knows what those idiots do to survive.
Speaking of the west.. I couldn't help but overhear more of the stupid rumors floating around about them. I rolled my eyes at a particularly obvious lie. The people aren't actually human. And Santa Claus is real.. I scoffed to myself as I entered the bar.
The sounds of general buzz met my ears as I entered the saloon looking bar. An old sawed-off shotgun that had been there before the Plague had even struck was proudly displayed above the bar. The beautiful oak wood bar was massive and held close to thirty bar stools. Besides the bar, worn wooden tables with six seats each were spread out around the place, along with old leather booths that lined the walls and corners. Making this an enjoyable place to lounge and drink after a long days work.
Despite it being work hours, the bar was still busy. Filled with mostly men laughing and talking about recent news. A few women walked around, their intentions less than desirable as they were looking to make a quick buck, and their clothing tight and revealing.
The bar maiden greeted me and pointed me to my usual corner booth. While avoiding all eye contact, I seated myself, sinking into the somewhat comfortable leather booth.
Soon a waitress, or a harlot, it's hard to tell the difference nowadays, came and took my order. Which was my usual good, ol', and expensive , moonshine.
The bar maiden chuckled as the waitress told her my order. "Typical." I heard her say as she rolled her eyes.
A couple of minutes later I sat drinking my moonshine. My thoughts strayed back to the family I had buried earlier that night. The Vikings were pillaging and plundering a little to far South for my liking. Maybe I should meet with King Samuel so I could warn him?
Lost in my thoughts, my eyes lazily scanned the bar. That was until I meet piercing blue eyes and my thoughts slipped away from me. The blue-eyed stranger was.. strange?
Covered in a pitch-black cloak, he blended in well with the black apparel of most patrons in the bar. Though with his hood up it was hard to see any more of his features. He seemed to have a decent build about him, but the cloak did good about hiding him almost completely. Luckily, no hood could cover up the beautiful ice blue of his eyes. Tilting my head, I realized I was staring.
With a shake of my head, I went back to scanning the bar. Watching for any sudden movements or anything unusual. Though once again, my eyes met the strangers stare. Why is he staring at me?
I sipped my moonshine and watched as the stranger abruptly stood and left. Stopping only to toss some coins on the bar for whatever he had been drinking.
After I finished my drink, I slipped the bar maiden a couple of coins and headed for the local lodging. Staying awake for another twenty-four hours was doing me no good. I figured.
I paid for a night and wasted no time in heading up. The lodge was a three-story building, with close to twenty rooms for visitors to Everest. And since it was the nicest in the Capital, I made it a point to stay here every time.
Once I ensured the room was secure, checking every closet, corner, and curtain, I checked under the bed. Finally, a hundred percent that the room was secure, I unstrapped my weapons, gear, and peeled off my dirty top layer of clothes and basically jumped into the bed.
The mattress was definitely better than a tree and I found no trouble in slipping off to sleep. My thoughts thankfully numbed by the moonshine and my dreams dull and boring.
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