John blinked hard, his mind fogged until something warm began moving from its curled position in front of him. Shaking the fog away from his mind, the world came back into focus, and so did the sharp feeling of his weight on wooden floor. Niko's voice brought him back entirely, and suddenly John felt annoyed at himself. Such a damned fool---he thought himself better than so many and then became them. Even at Niko's decision he felt rather weak, perhaps weak in mind, or in spirit. But he could hear an obvious chip in his voice that hadn't been there when he went to lie down the night before. That was odd---what had brought on the curious illness? He shook his head, sitting up as Niko brought John's gun into view.

"Oh...!" He took it, checking the safety. "Well, lucky I remembered to keep the safe on too." He chuckled lightly, sitting up and glancing around. Had he made a small nest of cloth for them to sleep on? It appeared that way. He slid forward, putting the gun on the nearest chair and getting onto his knees. "I slept... Pretty well, honestly. Kind of surprising, actually." He made a point to look at the cans hanging in the kitchen, but they were still up in the air. "No one's been around at least... Think we should go outside to check around? People could have come and planted something in the night."

He looked around, finding his clothes. It was hot in the house, without air to vent inside or out, with the doors and windows closed and boarded. Once his belt was tightened and his knives were in check, he slid the handgun into the small of his back and looked around to Niko. "Coming along?" He would have preferred to keep him inside---safe. But before they ate anything it would be better to check the immediate area. And two sets of eyes were much better.

Niko thought John was being paranoid, but then again in this age you only survived if you were. He nodded, getting to his feet with a new burst of energy. He gathered his own clothes, dully remembering the nights events. Most of it was a blur. Whenever he did those sorts of things, he usually almost changed into something else. He didn't feel dirty or ashamed though, which was a first. Maybe he really did like John.

"Do you know what day it is?" he was sure John had told him the date before. It was strange, this feeling that he was forgetting something. Of course, around this time every year was a special day to him. He didn't know if it was his birthday, all he knew was that on that one day, he was almost allowed to be a normal kid. He'd be allowed to watch all the cartoons he wanted. Maybe his aunt really did feel sorry for him, sometimes he'd hear them fighting. Sometimes she would give his dinner, which was always served in a dog bowl, supporting a black eye. He was glad she had disintegrated instantly during the blasts.

He pulled on his basic clothes, trotting after John as the man cautiously went to look outside. Nothing seemed to be different, except the fact that the doors and windows were all boarded up. "Do you think someone would come back?" he asked the man, as he carefully scoped out the place.

The date? He had to write that down, now that he thought about it, but remembered it well enough. "It's... June the fourteenth I believe. I'll have to write it down when we get back inside." He had his hand behind him, not only on his gun but to signal to Niko if something were there. But as he opened up the door he only heard the sound of the cans he'd strung up shifting a little, clanking quietly in the eerie silence. "I don't see anything." He muttered, stepping out. Nothing. Burnt sticks that used to be trees. The ruined well. The three mounds of dirt. A broken-down fence. And the shovel was still there. In the silence one could hear just about anything, despite the whistling of the wind.

He moved aside to let Niko out. "We just have to sweep the area. Anyone could have been by in the night to leave supplies or just investigate the place before breaking in. I've done it plenty of times before, and I don't doubt a lot of people are doing the same thing." A lot of people. He made it sound as if there were still billions of people in the world, or even millions. This country probably didn't even have fifty thousand left, if that much.

He stepped down, wishing he had brought his bag along so he could grab his binoculars for a closer look at the horizon. Despite the gray-brown sky light still shone from certain things, lenses or even clothing. "Stick close, Niko, okay? At least where I can see you... People can be so tricky..." And they could be hiding anywhere. He had been ambushed more times than he cared to admit.

Niko followed John's instructions, staying low and close to the older man. The farm seemed as empty as it was yesterday, and soon Niko let his guard down slightly. "Do you think this place was nice before the bombs hit?" he asked John, kicking a pebble through the dusty dirt. "I would have loved to live on a farm... See trees..." He kicked the stone hard and it flew through the air and landed in the well. He grinned, glancing at John for appraisal.

A strange noise came from the depths of the well, like a weird gurgling noise. Niko froze in place, hiding behind John in fright. "What... Was that?" The noise became louder and something climbed its way out of the well. Niko saw boiled flesh, a horrible tentacle... A giant, bloodshot eye staring right at them... He screamed and ran.

John was only half listening as Niko talked---his gaze was scanning the horizon now, watching for signs of rare life, but seeing only small indentations where standing buildings still defied the end of the world. He forced himself to look around however, and nodded more intently. "It was nice..." He muttered. He had seen plenty of orchards, had gone through their trees in the evenings and early mornings, had taken a few apples or oranges here and there, but never greedily. He was sure at times the owners would see him, but there were never any consequence. When he was younger, he was rather skilled in looking pitiful. It got harder as he aged bit by bit.

He smiled a little at Niko's shot, and was about to turn back toward the front of the house when the well seemed to growl and gurgle, shifting water and some inhuman noise. He automatically kept Niko behind him, though at that point he didn't seem to want to do anything else, as something appeared, and time seemed to slow.

He knew that the radiation, if it hadn't killed immediately, would begin to poison what it touched. And whatever lived in or around it, if it didn't die, would go through accelerated mutation and evolution. It was, anyway, what he'd heard. When Niko screamed, John tore his eyes away from what used to be a human man and grabbed him before he got too far. "Niko, no! Go to the house, hide behind those barrels and don't you move!" He hastily shoved the younger man toward the little home, getting him out of sight as the hostile... thing started its slow, slogging way toward John. He ran onto the porch and grabbed the shovel he had set there just yesterday, fearing a gunshot may bring unwanted attention. This had to be easier to kill than a normal, half-starved and desperate human.

Niko took off towards the house, only turning back once he got to the door they had come out from. He glanced over at John, hoping that he'd be OK. He only hesitated for a brief moment, before sprinting into the house to find a place to hide. He stayed where he was for what felt like hours before he crawled out from his hiding place, cautiously searching for John.

"John...?" he whispered, loud enough for John to hear if he was nearby. "Is the thing gone...?"

He stopped at the door, an image of the creature flashed through his mind. He shuddered and leant against the door frame. "What... Was..." he gasped, slowly walking towards where he had left John. He hoped that the man was OK.

It approached deliberately, slowly, its malformed and seemingly boneless legs unable to support it. Was the well water full of radiation too? It could be, though the rest of the ground was safe. Whatever place it came from had to have been contaminated. John kept a firm grip on the handle of the spade and stepped forward, grimacing at the ugly thing's face and its prominent eye. It seemed to have had two eyes at one time, but one had fused permanently closed and the other grew larger, disgusting, to make up for the lack of sight. Its malformed tentacle-like arm slapped the ground when it tried to lunge for him, and with a swift motion John wrenched the shovel down and into the almost rubber-like appendage, backing away in shock as a watery form of blood spurted onto the dry ground.

The thing wailed in a shrieking manner, sending John forward with the shovel again to shut it up. He sent the blade into its open mouth, wrenching it sideways and hearing a dreadful snap when its jaw dislocated. He pushed in harder, sending the sharp blade through, then backing away and bringing the shovel up like a bat, then down on its skull. It fell silent almost immediately, and shuddered slightly. It seemed dead.

John sighed, panting slightly. The thing was already letting off a rather unpleasant smell, and John went around to its side, using the shovel to push it back toward the well it came from. From there he could see Niko. "Hey! I hope you came out after this thing was dead!" He couldn't be annoyed. Niko was his own person, even if John wanted to keep him safe.

Niko rushed to John, hugging him around his waist and glancing at the dead thing as it slid out of sight and back into the well. "I'm so glad you are ok... What... Was that thing?" He sniffed slightly, tears beginning to form and fall down his cheeks. He felt bad for being so weak, for running away instead of helping. What if something had happened to John? They hadn't known each other for long, but Niko already felt dependant on the other man.

"I'm sorry for running... I've... There's nothing like that in the city..." All you had to care about were the bandits and cannibals. There weren't any mutated creatures roaming the streets of the ruined city.

John was surprised at the way Niko reacted, surprised that he clung to him almost immediately. "Niko...? It's okay, look..." He pulled Niko off and swept the tears away from his eyes. "It was probably someone that was in one of the irradiated areas... wandered out, made it to the well, and fell in. He didn’t die, but started... changing. I guess... like some horror movie. And he just went crazy. I would too if that happened to me. But I can’t imagine it happening... I think I just put it out of its misery.”

He mussed Niko’s hair. “Come on, there’s nothing out here... Let’s get inside and see what’s in that store room.” He looked up out of habit, like a deer searching the land for a threat. But he saw none, and heard nothing indicating human activity. “And next time something happens... I want you to run. I’d rather nothing happen to you.” His first real companion in a good long time, Niko actually seemed to rely on him, unlike the rest that wanted to steal from him or eat him.

Niko shuddered at the thought of changing into a monster, trying to attack non-mutant humans out of desperation, fear or spite. He glanced over at the well, wondering who he had been, what was his name? He closed his eyes and prayed a little, hoping that John really had put him out of his misery, just like the farmer the day before.

He reached out and grabbed onto John's hand as they walked back inside, cuddling the man's strong arms. His stomach grumbled slightly and he blushed, looking up at him. "My stomach is talking..." he said quietly, still feeling a bit shocked at what had happened previously. "I must be hungry."

John smiled faintly as he closed the door behind them, locking it securely and replacing the noise-making trap. "Sounds like you are." He said lightly, nodding to Niko. "We should get those apples gone before they rot, I think." He led the way downstairs, checking his and Niko's bags to make sure nothing had been taken or had fallen out. He made a bit more room in his own before pulling open the hidden door. "You have room in your bag to stock up from this?" He asked, glancing around at Niko. "I ought to find some radiation protection for you sometime soon... It can take ages to walk around those gated danger zones."

He pulled a small box off the shelf above his head and studied it. Black marker had scrawled the word 'lunch' on the side. It seemed early, but no one really seemed to follow labels anymore. He pulled the top off and brought out some of the packets, handing a couple to Niko. "I never thought I'd see the day where these MREs would taste better than real food." He laughed, kneeling at the apple box and pulling a couple out.

Niko took his bag and opened it. A few clothes and a radio was all that he owned. He nodded, glancing over at the box John observed before taking an apple and biting into it. "MRE...?" Niko asked in confusion, watching John pull out some strange packages from the box. "Is that food?"

He finished eating his apple and felt replenished, so he sat back to watch John some more. The man seemed so wise and clever. Niko was glad he had found him. But he didn't like the idea of walking through radiated areas. Even wearing clothes designed to protect them, he didn't want to run the risk of becoming a monster like that one that had attacked them earlier. He suddenly felt a bit ill.

"John, I don't want to leave this place. We are safe here."

John nodded at Niko's question, settling down with a few and setting them on the floor between them. "It's food packaged to survive a long time, but crushed down to not take up much space." He pushed the door closed, marveling at how well it was hidden, and crossed his legs underneath him. If they rationed their food well, they could survive for a long time. Even after their fresh apples were gone, they would be able to survive for months, possibly. He would have to organize the boxes, hide some away in their packs before they got too scarce.

He looked up when Niko spoke. "We are." He agreed. "But only for a time. Nowhere is permanently safe, unless you're locked in nice and tight, and don't plan on coming out for a long time." He pulled the top off his silver pack and peeled the little plastic fork off the outside, feeling around inside. It seemed to be a cooked pasta in a tomato sauce, but not necessarily five-star quality. But then again, John had never eaten five-star food before. "We'll stay here as long as we can, Niko, but... People will come. They'll want to know what's in here eventually. My shoddy little signs won't send them away for long. They'll start believing there's something in here worth their time. And if we don't keep it hidden away down here, where they won't think to look... well, we'll be saying goodbye to a lot of our supplies and be left with nothing."

He sighed. "I'm just a downer on these things, but I try to think logically. We'll stay here, but we have to keep our guard up. We go outside every morning and every evening to make sure nothing is strange out there, or nothing is there that shouldn't be. We look for footprints in the ground to make sure no one is wandering around where they shouldn't be. And we sleep in a safe place. Does that sound like a good idea?" He did want to keep going west, but that would have to be put off. He wanted to actually live for a while, the way he had before. Life on the streets, while difficult, had been so much easier than dealing with things as they were now.

Niko curled up on the ground, watching the man eat and listening to him talk. He liked the idea of staying here, in a home. Even if it wasn't as normal as one would hope, it was better than starving on the streets and risking being eaten by cannibals. The image of the monster that had attacked them before flashed through his mind again. "John, do you think there are many more creatures like the one we saw today...?" He really hoped not. But then again, the world wasn't like it was before, even if Niko had spent most of it locked in a basement.

He hoped that they would be safe for a long time, but something kept gnawing at his mind. What if someone came by and realised someone was living in here because of the signs John put up? Like the person that had shot the farmer? As if to answer him, the rumble of a motorbike approached the house before being shut off. Niko gulped and glanced at John in fright.

John nodded slowly, folding up the empty pack and tossing it into the corner between the walls and the silent machines. "Yeah... A lot of those things. Probably animals... humans... I mean I don't want to scare you but you gotta make sure you know what there might be... So we can kill them before they get the chance to do it." He smiled a little in reassurance, until a nose that was once familiar blasted through the quiet. John immediately darted up, closing up the apple container and sliding it into the hidden pantry, tossing the MRE box in and pulling Niko up. "Get in there, get in there right now." He egged the young man on, darting in to grab his bag and pull his shotgun and largest hunting knife off. "Niko, don't you dare move from here, I'm closing it up so nothing can get you." He nodded once, hoping Niko understood, and shoved the panel closed.

His footsteps were quiet, his hand on his shotgun's trigger. He opened the back door carefully, peering out just enough to see the vehicle---a dark motorbike that looked as dusty as the world around them. But he saw the rider as well. The rider, draped in all black that shone a little in a leather-type fashion, and his long hair looked rather clumped. On a closer inspection John saw pieces were sectioned off in a dreadlock style, and when he looked toward the house, his young-looking face had sprouted short, thin hair. John watched him move to the well, look down and make a face as if smelling the creature John had pushed down. Moving away from it, he went toward the several mounds and froze. Squinting, John couldn't see his face as he hunkered down on one knee, lowering his head as if in prayer. Had he lost his own when the bombs dropped? Who hadn't on that day? But John kept his hand on his gun, checked it. The safety was off, and it was loaded and ready for use.

John thought about leaving him, but the man probably had a weapon. He was probably looking for food and would kill anyone for it. John couldn't let Niko get hurt. He bit his lip, stepping out and carefully down the stairs, approaching the man from behind and watching his feet for any charred sticks, rocks, any loose earth that might make a noise. He placed both hands on his shotgun and stood fast behind the newcomer. "Don't make a move. Come up with your hands where I can see them and turn around." He didn't want to hurt the man. Didn't want to kill. But at the first sign of aggression, John promised himself he would shoot.

Niko scuttled into the hidden area, sitting under a shelf and watching as John blocked it off with the piece of wall. It was dark when he did so, but Niko was used to small dark spaces. He held his breath, however, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. He was scared that he'd hear a gunshot and John would never come for him. What would he do then? He hugged his knees and rocked slightly, trying not to think about it.

~

Raf had come back to the farm, though he had no idea why he had. Maybe he wanted to double check for any supplies, maybe he wanted to make sure that the old farmer was OK... In any case, he was surprised to see the windows and door boarded up, signs crudely painted over the fences and outside walls. "KEEP OUT - ARMED". He wondered what sort of people were so quick to move into the house, and worried for the old man.

He carefully walked around the back of the farmhouse, towards where he knew the well was located. The man had told him his water supply was tainted, and Raf could smell something horrendous as he looked down, wondering if the creature was still down there. He backed up, glancing down at the newly dug graves and being hit by shock. The man was dead? Who had buried him...? He sunk to his knees and covered his face, but no tears came. It had been a long time since he truly cared for another person... Too many people had died.

He started when he heard the sound of another man's voice and peered over his shoulder, blinking at the shotgun aimed at him. He raised his hands into the air slowly and stood, turning to face the newcomer. An man older than him, with long black hair. He had the face of someone who had found something worth protecting. What had he found, Raf wondered.

"Easy there big fella," he spoke, slowly bringing his hands down to his side. "Nothing gonna hurt you." He slowly outstretched his right arm and smiled, his eyes on the gun pointed at his face. "Name's Raf. I used to work here before... Before all the Armageddon stuff happened."

John was steady as a stone on the outside, but inside his heart pounded so loudly he was surprised this blonde newcomer didn't mention it. He kept his hands tightly wound around his gun until the man was all the way up. He was wary, releasing his gun but keeping it tight in his left hand. "Raf." He nodded, quickly grasping the man's hand in turn. "John. And I'm not worried about anything hurting me."

He breathed slowly, calming his heart. "So you knew the old guy here? Poor guy... Someone shot him and we found him choking on his own blood. He told me to bury him here by his girl and wife. Were you his friend...?" So that was why this man---Raf---had acted as if he had found a dead friend. He had. "Why'd you come back here? When this end of the world thing hit I left my city and never went back. I couldn't what with the insanity breaking out around every corner. Missing a friend of mine." He twitched, clearing his throat and switching the safety back on his gun. "Ah, sorry for... coming up like that. I'm just trying to keep someone safe." He thought about Niko, worrying about what he was doing. Was he okay?

Raf cursed slightly, looking back at the grave. "Yeah, I knew Jeremy... And Selena and Rose..." he nodded towards the other two graves. "They were good people... The little girl, Rose... She died first... Selena died of a broken heart not soon after... Jeremy... He... Well he tried to help any one he could..." His voice was strained with emotion, but his blue eyes remained cold and distant. When was the last time he had cried? He didn't even remember any more.

"I've got a little shelter just down the road a bit. In an abandoned tanker truck." He paused, not sure why he was being so open to this shotgun-holding stranger. "I was here yesterday, but... Shit, man, I didn't think he'd do it..." He wanted to kick the grave, angry at the old man for dying. "He was getting really depressed, you know? Saying stupid shit... He didn't... Do it... Did he...?" He hoped not, for the sake of his memory and respect.

John tilted his head slightly, trying not to hear their names but failing. He didn't need to know their names. He could barely handle knowing Jeremy's after having to kill him. He sighed, putting his weapon on his shoulder and pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes kept sweeping the landscape, however, as Raf spoke. "I dunno..." He admitted.

The place had been torn to pieces. The gun he hadn't found. The shot had been with a rifle and no one could hold a rifle at such an awkward angle to shoot themselves in the chest and stomach. "No. No, there wasn't a gun anywhere... It was a rifle shot, and the place was ripped up... I can't imagine how he'd get a rifle around... or why he wouldn't shoot himself in the head... No, he couldn't have killed himself, no way."

He sighed. "Hey... y'know, if you need something... we've got a good amount. I mean, if you're running low on anything you can come on in. It's not often you find a good person around here anymore. And I really need to check on Niko..." He added in a low mutter. What was he doing? Was he afraid? John couldn't handle not knowing how the young man was, if he was even okay.

Raf wondered what on earth a 'Niko' was. He supposed it was a kid, by the way John seemed to worry so much about it. Kids were rare in this world, most were too weak to survive. He glanced over to the graves, remembering when Rose died from a sickness. It was terribly sad and Jeremy had cried all night at her bedside. Raf felt his eyes water slightly. Jeremy was dead. It was as though the thought finally caught up to him. He was surprised to feel warm tears rolling down his cheeks and he wiped them away quickly. Had he actually loved the man? He used to lay awake at night, wondering what it was he felt for Jeremy. Love or just a bit of action? Even now, as he turned to face where the man was buried, he couldn't bring himself to even answer the question.

"Damnit you bastard, why did you have to be so hospitable...?" he muttered darkly. He turned back to face John, who looked concerned. "Ah, well if you don't mind... I... Well, I haven't eaten in awhile. I know Jeremy had lots of rations down in his cellar and that's why I came..." He hadn't visited the farm in ages. Not since Jeremy changed into something else, something... not kind and loving like he used to be. "I mean, if it's alright with ya, that is. I don't want to be a threat or anything." To show that he meant peace, he pulled out his concealed pistol and handed it to John. "As long as I can have that back, mind... It's killed many bandits and monsters."

John was ready to take the weapon, but pushed it back to Raf. "Keep it. Never know when you'll need it suddenly." Somehow he trusted the man easily. There was something about him. Something that was rather trustworthy. He nodded to Raf, leading the way back to the house. "I figure you know the place pretty well, seeing as you were here before. I... cleaned the place up a bit with Niko's help, you wouldn't even know something happened, if anything." He went quiet, pulling open the door and letting Raf in first before he slid inside and replaced the noise trap.

There was nothing upstairs or on the ground floor that John wanted to protect in case it was stolen---he ran to the basement stairs and thumped down. "Niko! I'm back, it's okay!" He wedged his fingers into the false wall and pulled it open. "He wasn't hostile---he's a friend. Are you okay?" Niko looked scared, but at the same time, relieved. John stepped inside, helping him out. "I didn't mean to worry you, Niko. You okay?" John brushed his hair out of his face to study his eyes. The eyes did say so much, even if the face and the voice didn't.

Niko was glad when John finally came downstairs. He hugged the man tightly, burying his face in the familiar scent he had grown to like. He nodded when asked if he was ok and looked over to the stairs, where a stranger stood. The man was quite young, but older than Niko. His hair looked like it was in dreadlocks and he had a thin, wispy beard. He looked like the type of man that would go to concerts and smoke drugs, though Niko wasn't sure how he came up with this conclusion. He smiled weakly at the newcomer, but didn't let go of John. "I'm ok," he said to John, trying to reassure him. "Used to small dark places...."

Raf had followed John back inside the house. When he stepped inside, he was almost overrun by memories, about the day before and before the explosions... The house had the look of one that recently been cleaned and he wondered what the murderer had been searching for. He followed John down to the cellar and watched as he pulled out his companion from hiding. A teen, probably not much older than 16. Raf smiled warmly at him, but didn't speak. He let them have their moment and explored the basement, remembering when he used to pick apples for Jeremy and Selena. It seemed like years ago that he was being taught how to make cider.

"Got any cider left?" he asked John, looking at the empty bottles. "Wouldn't mind a drink."

"Used to it...?" John shook his head, squeezing Niko and finally letting him go. He'd only grown more interested in keeping Niko safe as time went on, and keeping him in an enclosed space felt as if he were abusing him. He sighed, glancing around toward Raf. "Yeah, there's some left." He stepped past Niko and brought out his bag, pulling one of the bottles out of his bag. "Just a couple left, Niko found them down here when we came by." He handed one over. "Niko..." He looked around to the young man and stepped forward. "This is Raf. He's the one we heard come up. Raf... Niko." He smiled. "He used to be around here before the... whole event happened."

He pulled one of the nearer boxes out of the cramped hideaway and followed it with the apples. "When we heard someone come up to the house we hid everything away..." John added, settling down and clipping his shotgun onto his bag again.

Niko sat next to John and remained quiet, watching Raf from under the man's arm. He didn't know why, but he felt shy around this stranger. Usually he would love to have met a new person, but something about Raf made Niko suspicious. But if John trusted the man... He hugged John's arm tighter, frowning slightly and not saying anything.

Raf was pleased to see the bottle of cider and took it from John with much appreciation. Before the event occurred, he had been quite a drinker and he missed the warm embrace of alcohol. He found a crate nearby and sat upon it, opening the bottle and taking a swig. "Want some?" he asked the older man, wondering why the teen was so quiet. "How about you, Niko?" When he saw the box of apples, he almost dropped his bottle. "Oh my God... Is that...?"

John rubbed Niko's shoulder reassuringly. He had made the wrong decision in trusting people before, but he felt this would be just a little different. If it wasn't, John would have to keep himself and Niko completely isolated from anyone else. He had decided that the moment Raf wanted to pull something, he wouldn't hesitate to kill the man. It was harsh to think such things, but John wanted nothing more than to make sure Niko was safe, and that John was around and able to keep him that way.

He shook his head at the offer Raf gave, hoping to keep his mind clear now more than ever. Then he looked back to where the apples sat. "Yeah, your friend was really careful about keeping fresh food." John said, and tossed one of the apples to Raf. "That container was airtight so they taste like they were picked just a day ago." Jeremy really had thought of quite a bit. He probably even rigged the house to a separate water system in case it was contaminated, and obviously the well had been.