Chapter 2: The Last of the Wasteland Knights: “Awakening Shadows”
Half asleep in a far corner of a desolate supermarket, lay Strider. Curling up in his trench coat getting some rest, keeping one eye open, always looking out for the next act of evil. Once a thriving supermarket with lines of customers, and memories of Black Friday fights, wrestling over the deals upon deals that everyone must have. That rush to acquire that important gift. Was it worth the assault charge that they would now be facing because they could save a few bucks? “Stupid People” Strider chuckled to himself. If they only knew what this world would become.
Scanning the darkness for dangers that might be sneaking up on him. he was thankful that the one good thing Strider acquired from the radiation was the ability to see in the dark. All he remembers was the flash and not being able to see. Even though he was around 50 miles from the initial blast, the flash still momentarily blinded him. After taking cover in a fallout shelter he found that the blindness retreated and he could see like it was daylight in darkness. Strider Thought to himself “This could be helpful.”
This building was now in ruin, aisle upon aisle of shelving units had toppled, their contents long since pilfered by scavengers or reduced to dust. The ghostly remnants of price tags clung to empty shelves, their numbers meaningless now. What were once neatly organized rows of foodstuffs, household goods, and electronics had been torn asunder, creating a maze of debris and decay. Occasionally Strider would pick up the movement of a mutated mouse, its green glowing body scurrying across the littered debris.
Stealthily sitting up on the edge of the shelving unit, Strider reached down and tied up his boots, thinking to himself "A wonderful score from another store," Dicks Sporting Goods. “Who came up with that name.” Suddenly from across the store, there was a loud crash, and what sounded like rummaging. He listened to hear any voices, but there weren't any. The sound was creeping closer, Strider pulled himself back up onto the shelves quietly so as to not draw attention to his hiding spot. Too late, he was noticed by the wandering Genecoon.
That toxic trash bandit started charging toward him like a rabid raccoon, only this one was the size of a Great Dane. Scrambling to his feet, Strider, tried balancing himself on the top of the supermarket shelves and attempted to ready himself as the Genecoon scrambled its way up to the top shelf. reaching inside his trench coat Strider pulled out his sawed-off shotgun and was able to let loose three blasts before it could get to him. All three hit the coon doing a significant amount of damage. The second shot hit it square in the face, blowing out one of its eyes from its socket. The mutated coon scrambled on, leaping onto him and wrapping its maw around the barrel of the shotgun.
As they wrestled on top of the shelving unit Strider was able to reach into the trench coat and retrieve one of his wickedly sharp combat knives. At this moment there was a shearing sound as the shelving unit gave way. The weight of the coon on top of him was too much for the shelves to handle. As they came crashing down to the ground Strider pressed the tip of the blade into the ribcage allowing the force of the fall to help plunge the knife through its tough sternum and into the coons heart. The creature let out an ear-piercing howl of pain, rolled off of Strider, and lay there twitching for several minutes before accepting its fate. After the creature had expired Strider pulled out his knife wiping it off with a rag he found nearby. “Never know what these creatures might carry now,” he thought to himself, “It's not just rabies anymore.”
Looking around, Strider slowly cleared the building making sure no other trash bandits were lurking in the dark. With a heavy sigh, Strider thought, "Thank god that was the only one," "I don't think I could have handled more than one of those today." Popping 3 shells into the chamber, He reloaded and holstered his sawed-off shotgun into his trench coat, and walked to the back of the store where there was an exit.
Strider thought to himself, "It might be wise not to go out the front where people might see him. CLICK CLICK, the handle made a loud noise as it was pressed, as he pushed on the door the morning light blinded him. As Strider stepped into those morning rays he heard another sound, a CRACK followed by a pounding in his head and then darkness pure darkness.
Was this it, that one wrong move that cost him his life? Where is the bright tunnel of light, the golden gates of judgment? Just when he thought it was just nothingness, a faint voice speaks out "Not done yet," Huh? questioned Strider. Then CRACK a wrenching pain woke up his ribcage. Oh yeah, there it is, that feeling of being alive sharply entered his mind with a sharp sting. Looking up stood a tall, blurry female figure dressed in old Army drabs that were way too big for her but she made them work. She leaned in and yelled into his face, "Where do you think you're going, I'm not done with you yet." Spitting up blood, Strider tries to answer but passes out again due to the excruciating scenario.
As Strider faded into unconsciousness once more, his mind swirled with confusion and questions. What awaited him beyond that blinding light, and who was this mysterious woman in military attire seemingly determined to keep him tethered to the realm of the living? As his senses struggled to regain focus, the enigmatic figure spoke again, her voice cutting through the disorienting haze. "You've got a debt to settle, Strider," she declared with an intensity that hinted at a history between them. With that ominous statement lingering in the air, the scene shifted into a surreal dreamscape where fragments of memories and echoes of past battles merged. The boundaries between life and death blurred as Strider embarked on a journey that would unravel the threads of his existence, leaving him grappling with a destiny he had yet to comprehend.