{"id":902,"date":"2016-11-29T12:09:11","date_gmt":"2016-11-29T20:09:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/?p=902"},"modified":"2016-11-29T12:09:11","modified_gmt":"2016-11-29T20:09:11","slug":"dooms-daughter-chapter-two","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/?p=902","title":{"rendered":"Doom’s Daughter, Chapter Two"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n

Father and I have thirty-seven rehearsed contingency plans, everything ranging from wild dog attacks to flash floods to the (extremely) unlikely event that some psycho somewhere found out how to launch and detonate a nuclear missile. Noise outside the RV is something we\u2019ve had to deal with before; nine times out of ten <\/span>it\u2019s<\/span> animals sniffing around, but once in a while it\u2019s a human, and they\u2019re unpredictable at the best of times.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Our movements are fluid and pra<\/span>cticed as we get into position. Father glides silently up the top-hatch ladder, holding his rifle by the stock. I get the shotgun from under the bed and press myself flat against the wall next to the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Father\u2019s custom \u2018periscope\u2019 allows him to monitor the outside from just below the hatch. His cameras feed into a screen he has jury-rigged to the ladder.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>One man, <\/span>he signals. <\/span>Armed.<\/span> Wait.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

<\/span>Father opens the hatch painstakingly slowly. He greases it regularly but it still groans once in a while. Thankfully, it does not this time. He lifts himself out of the hatch, preparing to get the jump on the man and force him to throw down his weapon.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Except the latch in front of me turns and suddenly the door is swinging outward.<\/span> I make a clicking sound, slightly masked by the creaking door, but Father doesn\u2019t seem to hear it. I freeze in place, gripping my gun tightly and holding my breath.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>A boot enters first: black, worn, work-boot style, caked with mud and dirt. The man that follows is younger than I expect, probably no older than twenty. His muss of sandy-blonde hair is mostly hidden under a dark toque and his cheeks and chin have a dusting of pale stubble. He\u2019s startlingly good-looking, in fact, and as I try to remain invisible against the wall I find myself hoping we don\u2019t have to kill him.<\/span> I\u2019m betting his Winchester is loaded.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cThe fuck is all this?\u201d he whispers as he gazes around at our abode. His accent is funny and I have to stifle a giggle.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Focus, Regan\u00b8 <\/span>I think. <\/span>Check his gear.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>He\u2019s surprisingly bundled up, given the mild weather. I see no signs of Kevlar or other armour, but he does have a backpack and a large hunting knife at his belt.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>He walks right by me, straight for the CDs I left on my bed.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cHey!\u201d I blurt out. <\/span>Shit.<\/span> As he wheels around I panic, dropping to the floor and kicking his legs out from under him. He falls softly upon the mattress, but I cringe as I hear an unwelcomed <\/span>crunch<\/span> of plastic from beneath him.<\/span> He\u2019s <\/span>startled,<\/span> either by the sound or from me tripping him, and his gun goes off.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Whoops, <\/span>I think. I check my vitals. No holes. It looks like he poked a hole in the ceiling.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201c<\/span>Dad<\/span>?\u201d<\/span> I shout as I kick the rifle out of the man\u2019s hands. \u201cDon\u2019t fucking move!\u201d I bark<\/span>, aiming my shotgun barrel at his midsection<\/span>. \u201cAnd get off my CDs!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWhich one?\u201d he asks urgently. \u201cDon\u2019t move or get off your CDs?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cUgh, just get on the floor and put your hands behind your head.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cOh fuck, don\u2019t kill me,\u201d he pleads as he follows my instructions. He begins to sob and I suddenly find him less attractive.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cRegan?\u201d<\/span> Father comes down the ladder to discover that I already have the situation in hand. \u201cAre you ok?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got this, dad.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s his gun?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cOver there,\u201d the guy points to the shelves.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cDon\u2019t you move a muscle,\u201d Father tells him as he picks up the Winchester. \u201cThat hole you put in my roof was inches away from being a hole in my dick.\u201d He inspects the weapon. \u201cExcept that you need to take better care of your weapons, kid. <\/span>What kind of amateur scavenger bullshit is this?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m not a scavenger,\u201d he insists. I lower my shotgun and he relaxes a little, bringing an arm down to wipe tears from his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m a hunter.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cYou\u2019re not likely to find a lot of deer in an RV,\u201d Father quips.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cSorry. I heard strange sounds. <\/span>Thought I should investigate.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cSay \u2018sorry\u2019 again,\u201d I tell him.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cI really am sorry, I didn\u2019t know that…\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>I giggle. Father<\/span> shoots me a warning glare.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWhat?\u201d the guy asks.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cYou say \u2018sorry\u2019 weird…I thought it was funny.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cAny more of you around here?\u201d<\/span> Father asks. He\u2019s lowered his guard but I can tell he\u2019s still got an eye trained on our captive<\/span>. He walks over to the crates and grabs his cleaning supplies.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>The guy fixes Father with a wary stare. \u201cWhere are you from?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cNowhere close to here.\u201d Father checks the rifle chamber to ensure it is empty, <\/span>then<\/span> begins cleaning the weapon.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cSo you\u2019re…not with the League?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWhat\u2019s the League?\u201d Father doesn\u2019t look up from his work.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>The man glances at me, looking for a reaction, perhaps, but I shrug.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cYou really don\u2019t know about the League?\u201d he decides to sit up. I have my gun pointed to the floor but I refuse to let my guard down completely. He still has the knife.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cIs it a group I should be worried about?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cYes. We\u2019ve been fighting them for years.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

<\/span>\u201cWho\u2019s \u2018we\u2019?\u201d I ask.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cThe <\/span>Kawitzen<\/span> Tribe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Father and I glance at each other. This time we both shrug.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cDoes your tribe…trade?\u201d I venture.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cOf course we do.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cRegan,\u201d Father <\/span>says,<\/span> a tone of warning present in his voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Father glances at the man on the floor. \u201cThis is not the time to discuss such things.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cFine,\u201d I say. I look at our guest. \u201cWould you excuse us for a minute, please? <\/span>Oh, and don\u2019t touch anything if you want to live. Especially my CDs. And you probably shouldn\u2019t sneak off if you want your rifle back.\u201d I glare at Father and signal the words <\/span>cockpit, talk, please.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>Father is the master of the long-suffering sigh. He follows me to the cab of the RV.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cTell me, <\/span>dad<\/span>, what\u2019s the point of scavenging if we don\u2019t trade with anyone?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cKnowledge and survival.<\/span> Besides, we do trade.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cBut never anywhere new.\u201d<\/span> I throw up my hands. <\/span>\u201cNever with anyone who could possibly <\/span>benefit<\/span> from our <\/span>knowledge<\/span> about <\/span>survival<\/span>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cI\u2019m not getting involved in local warfare, Regan.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cNobody\u2019s asking you to!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>He slumps into the driver\u2019s seat and presses a finger and thumb to his temple. \u201cThere\u2019s no need to yell.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cWho cares? That guy probably already thinks we\u2019re crazy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cGood. Then we can return to the main<\/span>land before we run into trouble here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cUgh.\u201d I stare out the window at the fallen-over power lines snaking across the road. \u201cHave you ever considered the fact that I <\/span>like<\/span> meeting new people?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\n
\n

<\/span>Father is silent for a moment. \u201cI know,\u201d he says. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry you\u2019re stuck on the road with me. When we get back to <\/span>Novamerica<\/span> you can…\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cDon\u2019t be stupid,\u201d I interrupt. \u201cI don\u2019t want to <\/span>stay<\/span> anywhere. I just…want you to put your trust in strangers once in a while.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cYou can\u2019t trust anybody, Regan. Not even yourself.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201c<\/span>Very<\/span> philosophical, dad.<\/span> Maybe that\u2019s true, but once in a while, maybe it\u2019s enough to trust that someone else <\/span>isn\u2019t <\/span>out to kill you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>\u201cFine<\/span>, Regan. We\u2019ll go trade with his tribe.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span>I beam at him, but the smile is short-lived. When I glance back to the rear of the RV, the stranger is nowhere to be found.<\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Father and I have thirty-seven rehearsed contingency plans, everything ranging from wild dog attacks to flash floods to the (extremely) unlikely event that some psycho somewhere found out how to launch and detonate a nuclear missile. Noise outside the RV is something we\u2019ve had to deal with before; nine times out of ten it\u2019s animals […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[39,40],"tags":[35,43,42],"class_list":["post-902","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dooms-daughter","category-serials","tag-dooms-daughter","tag-post-apocalyptic","tag-serials"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/902","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=902"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/902\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":903,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/902\/revisions\/903"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=902"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=902"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jamesfunfer.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=902"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}