this is something I started the other night. It will be a short story more then likely. However I thought you might like it.
The Burning Days:
This story is copyrighted and owned solely by the me. I may post it to websites so people can offer feedback but I hold all rights.
Seth walked beside the horse the uneven terrain was to much to consider riding right now and it was good to give the horse a rest. He held the reigns tightly the raiders liked to use the bad weather and rough terrain to attack travelers. He was 3 days out from his cabin and wanted to reach it by nightfall but the weather was not cooperating. He had been able to bag a deer for the first time in a several months and smoked the meat to preserve it. The large black mare carried his pack and supplies. The short lever action his dad had left him he had across his back in the sheath the leather-smith had made back in Lexton his father had traded 30 rounds of 22 for it and the man was happy to get them. Ammunition was more valued then gold now. He saw the large clump of tress in the distance and decide to wait out the rain. It had started raining a cold wet drizzle about 3 hours back and had not let up since. It was a blessing he guessed that it had not gotten any stronger but in the fall these storms killed people now. The cold and rain then people coming down with the flu or pneumonia and many would not make it with antibiotics being scarce. Several years back when his father was still alive there was a bad flu that had went around they said that the whole State of New York was hit bad. They had talked with a traveler albeit at a fair distance as he was headed down to Florida to meet up with some kin. They had given him a half pound of beans and a small ham hock and sent him on his way and thanked him for the information. He looked around as he pulled the horse into the tress and tied her to one of the smaller saplings as he knelt down and huddled with the waxed coat and hat protecting him against the cold wind and rain. He considered a fire but the smell and smoke could bring raiders and he did not want trouble with those savages right now. He was low on ammo and you could never tell how many were going to be in a group these days. There was a time when there numbers made them a constant threat when there were so many it was hard to keep track of now they had been mostly killed off but groups still roamed the land. Most of them were convicts that had been in prison when the destruction happened. Some of the old prisons had let them out others had been damaged when the power went down and had no way to keep them other then shoot them and once that was a possible solution riots started everywhere and then guards who felt sorry or talked about rights and due process let some of them go. They banded into large hordes that attacked the people who tried to rebuild towns and communities. In time they were shot on site. Very few people traveled after dark and those that did were known to whoever or wherever they were traveling to. The long waxed duster had been his fathers and then he had passed it down to him when he traded for another down near the Tennessee border with some traders on a river boat. His father used to have a spray for the heavy jean material but after a time they had to use wax as his father had learned in his youth. He had his hands in his pockets to keep them warm and his head down letting the water run off. He could see his breath in the cold air as he slowed down and relaxed. He could wait this out and if not there was the old concrete building he could stay in for the night and then make the cabin the next day easily.
...Snap... the sound of a large twig being broken somewhere in the distance the horse snorted and stomped the ground to make sure he had heard the noise. He had but he kept his head down and made no motion to alert anyone if they were watching. The raiders were savages and attacked with numbers and ferocity. He waited and listened. It could have been an animal he thought. He reached down inside the coat and gripped the handle of the small 20 gauge pistol-shotgun. His father had fashioned a pistol handle for it and had cut the barrel down to 8 inches. It was a bear to shot but when the need arose it was also just what was needed. He laid his left hand on the large machete. His father told him that it was made by an company called cold steel now long forgotten in the dust of memories before the destruction. It was a Barong machete his father had told him. The blade resembling a long thin leaf would cut through the thickest brush or a mans arm given the needed force. If they attacked and had guns they might get a lucky shot and hit the animal though they would prefer it alive if only to get it back to camp and feast on it. If it was raiders he would need to go out and meet them. If he lost the horse he would loose the meat and that was not something he wanted to consider. He still had can good and beans and rice but that was getting old. He hated thinking that way. There were people that would kill for the stores his father had laid in before the world ended. He waited controlling his breathing making himself stay calm. He watched under the brim of the hat for any movement keeping his head still so as not to alert anyone. He scanned the brush covered expanse. The clump of tress that he had found was surrounded by small bushes and tall grasses. This area was dotted with these islands of tall trees. It was an area surrounded by smaller cedars and hardwoods that were starting to grow back. Huge swaths had been burned and destroyed when the bombs had dropped across the eastern seaboard. He could see movement in the tall grasses about 50 yards away. He watched and could make out three distinct areas of movement. It looked to be a small group. They would come straight at him from the front and back and attack at the same time they were always predictable it was odd that they had never learned but most were half starved savages now living in caves and attacking any travelers they came across. He could see they were coming from the left with a main group. Their attack began they moved quickly crouching down now almost running towards him. He stayed still pretending to sleep. The mare did not like that he was not moving and snorted again. They were standing now running directly at him some 10 yards away. Three of the raiders were moving from the front and one would be coming behind him. The one coming from behind would come right by the horse and he did not like that but to turn his back on the 3 main attackers was foolish as his father would say and much to dangerous. They all looked to have in their hands the crude swords they cut from old leaf springs and tempered in rough crude forges. His right hand moved to the small ruger 22 that was held in a chest rig holster. It was an older model mark II target model with a 4 inch barrel. Except for cleaning the damn thing it was his favorite gun. His father had taught him how to shot with it and his aim was deadly. He would eventually run out of 22 ammo but his father had stored ammo cans full of it and he would be well supplied for some time. He said he used to by it where everyone seemed to shop during those times... Wally World. Every time his dad talked about it he smiled. Seth was to his feet with practiced ease and turned his back towards the 3 main attackers pulling the small 22 from the holster and fired the gun barely clearing the holster before it was tucked back in the tight leather holster. His right hand fell to the shotgun as two of the attackers came around a large brush. He took two steps forwards and with the 20 gauge pulled from the side holster and aimed directly towards them. He let go with both barrels. It was amusing to him sometimes when he thought back to the old DVD movies his father and he watched on the laptop that they would charge up now and again. He would see men get shot and fly back 20 feet and crash through a wall. These men simply fell down and were dead there forward momentum dropping them on their faces. He dropped the shotgun and pulled the machete out with his left hand in time to use it to block and push the sword away and to the ground as the last attacker swung a wild overhead slice. Seth moved the machete to his right hand and slice back towards the attackers chest catching the side of his left arm he could see blood begin to seep from the wound. A normal person would retreat now and try and save his arm but not these brutes. If they came back with no food they would not eat and if they came back enough times with no food they would be the meal he had heard people tell in the towns and villages in whispers. Seth steadied his footing and shifted his body weight so he was well balanced. His father had taught him well how to fight and the off balanced attacker was easily defeated. The brute took a full swing at Seth’s head and smacked a tree as Seth ducked. It was much to close to the horse for Seth's liking. He ducked the swing and came up and pushed the blade forward slicing across the inner thigh muscle and the attacker went down to one knee. Seth moved behind and grabbed the head and pulled the machete across the neck and he could feel the warm blood cover his hand. The attacker fell forward and was dead. The horse gave a impatient snort and Seth looked over to make sure she was alright. He looked down at the attacker he had shot with the 22 and it was a perfect shot between the eyes. He stood there admiring his marksmanship when the horse snorted again.
“yeah yeah we need to be going.” He said looking at the horse.
He untied the horse and went around to the men and checked what they had one them. Normally it was only the swords but sometimes they would have guns and usually no ammo for them. Just the swords this time he took them anyway now their friends would have to find new steel for more swords. He would give it to blacksmith in town and if Seth needed any work he got a sizable discount.
He walked beside the horse and made his way towards the old rumbled building that was about 5 miles form his dads house. His dads house he thought. His dad and mother had been killed in a raid on the town while they were visiting and trading. It was two years ago or so he thought. Time was a difficult thing to keep track of these days. People survived day to day. It was his now. His cabin his refuge from the outside world. He walked on his head down against the constant drizzle. It took him about 40 minutes of mild walking to make the shelter. It had belonged to one of dads neighbors or family. It was a medium size structure about the side of a small house. It was made of concrete blocks and steel rods that were placed on the inside of the blocks. His father explained it made the blocks and concrete harder and stronger should they be attacked. Something had obviously happened in this place. The front wall was mostly secure but the side wall towards the path had a gaping hole. The roof was mostly caved in on this side as well and Seth had to be careful to not move to much of the rubble lest more of the roof would cave in. He had used this place before on longer trips to stop for weather or check he was not being followed. He brought the horse in and grabbed the food bucket and placed it in front of her. She made a sound that to his ears sounded much like disgust at the same thing again. Once they got to the cabin he would have to give her some hay and maybe a carrot for a treat. He still had some from the garden last spring and it would be a good use for some of the older ones that were a little soft now. She never seemed to mind. It was after all a treat and this one she would deserve. Seth got a small fire going and kept it in the corner of the building shielding it from outside eyes. He huddled around the fire for warmth against the cold rain falling outside the dilapidated building. He would have made it back to the cabin had it not been for the raiders attacking this afternoon. There were fewer attacks then when his mother and father were alive but they were still out there. They were mostly mindless savages banded together to try and steal food or valuables to trade. They would kill any men they could and take any women back to their camps and rape and use them as cooks but mostly they would end up dead. He had killed the three who had attacked him and now he had to sleep another night away from his cabin. He huddled against the inner wall and reached over to check the rabbit he had been able shoot with the re-curve bow. It was almost done. He stood up and walked around the wall and checked on the horse and then walked back past the fire and looked out the gaping hole that used to be a window. He had used some debris to cover the fire and dissipate the smoke. The smell was what he worried about. The raiders ran in packs and who knows how many were really in the group that attacked him. He had dispatched them quickly and that usually made them look for easier prey.
His mind wandered back....
He remembered times when his dad taught him fighting and shooting. It had been many years but it was some kind of fighting his dad had once been very good at it and taught his young son after the world was burned. They had stayed in the underground shelter at the cabin for a full year and then started to venture out. So many dead all over the place. Men came once early on to take what they had as well as his mother. Women were a special commodity. They could be sold as slaves or trade sexual favors for food or weapons. The men had no weapons so his father had went out to tell them to go away when he was attacked form behind. He pitched his rifle back to his wife and grabbed the mans arm that tried to hit him again and placed his other hand on the mans shoulder and pulled back quickly. The screaming was immediate. One of the other men ran at him and he kicked him in the belly area and then lower and then grabbed his chin and the back of his head and twisted with speed and knowledge and the man fell to the ground in a heap. The third ran down the road his father called for the rifle from his wife and he shot the man as he ran away. He looked down at his young son. You must never let one escape they will always come back. He dozed as he sat next to the warmth of the fire his back against the rock wall as the horse stood and munched on the feed he had traded for in town. He woke with a start as the horse snorted. He waited but did not hear anything and then grabbed a pot and placed it out in the rain. The rain was stronger now and the pot filled quickly as he pulled it back in. He checked the horses feed bag and saw it was empty so he poured some water in it and then placed the pot over the fire hanging it on a metal rod he carried. He waited and watched it boil and then let it cool before pouring it into his canteen. He sat back against the wall and pulled the hat down taking a long drink of the cool liquid as he drifted off.
He woke early the sun barley peeking over the horizon. He never slept well when he was away from the cabin. He worried. Although it had been many years since someone had attempted to break in he was still concerned about being gone for some many days. The rain had stopped overnight and it was a cool sunny morning. He decided to ride for about an hour and make the trek faster. It would be good to get back early and he could watch the place for a few minutes and make sure no one was around and watching. He topped the rise and made his way up the small hill overlooking the cabin and tied the horse to the tree. He reached back and grabbed the binoculars out of his backpack. He lay down on his stomach and checked the perimeter. He had razor-wire strung around the cabin about 15 yards from the front and sides. It was mainly for deterrence. There were bear-traps and snares in different areas and some pits mainly leg traps. The barn was off towards the back and that had an open area for the horse during the day. Just a split rail fence surrounded about 2 acres for the horse. He lay there still making as little noise as possible except for the occasional whine from the horse being so close she wanted the pack off and to be in her stall. Seth go up and took the reigns and walked to the side of the house and opened a gate off to the left of the house. It led to what appeared to be a wooden door on a lower level of the main cabin. Seth dropped the reigns and stepped towards the door and looked around. He grabbed a small knot of wood on one of the logs and pulled it forward. It popped open with a metallic scrape and a small square plate with a hand design etched into the glass became visible. Seth placed his hand inside the etched outline and nothing happened. He pushed a button on the right side to activate the small battery backup but it was dead also. He sighed. This is why he did not like being gone for so long. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small metal tube about 5 inches long. Unseen from the outside were ridges and curves on the inside and then a large half circle on the end. He placed the key in a small hole beside the device and turned clockwise and a loud audible click and he turned one more half turn and then another click. With his left hand he pushed on the logs beside the locking device and a large wall opened up. Seth walked in and pulled the reigns the horse followed. When the horse had cleared the opening Seth turned and pushed the heavy metal door back and pushed the large bolt across and into the locking mechanism he would recharge the batteries and cycle the electronic hand scanner later after he rested. He turned and looked at the large space. The room sat under the main cabin and also part of the barn. It was about 20 feet wide and maybe 45 feet long. It had an area for his guns and reloading and then 3 stalls for the horses they had when they needed 3 and an area to sleep. He used the cabin mainly for day-life. He would have a fire in the fire place but mostly slept and lived down here at night. The horse had walked to her stall and he walked over and took the packs off her and sat them down on the concrete. He walked back over and reached underneath and unbuckled the saddle and placed it on the posts and then the blanket and pad. The horse gave a good shake. He took a minute to fill the water for her and threw some hay for her. He grabbed the meat and walked over to a door on the right hand wall opening it taking in the smell of earth. A car battery was beside the door sitting on a small table he attacked the two small clamps separated by a length of PVC plastic he reached down and attached them to the battery terminals and a flickering light illuminated the 10 steps and his root cellar. He walked the meat down and hung it next to an nice aged country ham. It was one of the last things his father had done. He had talked about taking half of it down and trading for a couple of younger horses. They had found the piglet in the forest and raised it to a couple of hundred pounds and then slaughtered it. It was good eating that week. They used everything even the family dog had some good eats. Seth walked back up the steps unclasped two clamps attached to the battery and closed the door. He looked over where the dog used to sleep and sighed. He had been a big German Shepherd and had stood beside his father as he fought the raiders that last time. He went and pulled the the battery cart to the side door and connected it. It would charge the battery for the hand scanner and the backup battery that was inside the door. It was a golf cart battery that fit in a small panel and was a backup for the main battery that sat next to the door and was connected to it through a panel to the side. The battery cart was the best battery he had and it was charged from the small turbine designed windmill that sat behind the barn in the open field. He pressed the button on the small device connected to the battery and it showed it still had about a 75 percent charge. He checked the bolt for the side door and then checked the bolt for the door at the top of the spiral staircase going into the cabin and came back down and laid on the bunk. The area used a few batteries to add some light once the door was open he reached over as he laid down and flipped a switch and the entire room was now dark. He could hear the horse munching away as he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep sleep.
The rough running short bus had been converted to methane after the gas and oil became so scarce. They had worked with some people from Lexton and they were able to help get it running making changes to the engine and adding the tank to hold the methane. Now the bus ran through several small towns and allowed people to travel between them easier and could allow for goods to be moved back and forth. Food was still a problem. Although the land had healed many of the places had no seeds to plant when spring came. People who did have them protected them at all costs. Some of the professors and farmers were trying to work to get seed crops growing year round in modified green houses heated with wood or whatever they could use. The fruit or vegetable was important but the seeds were the real treasure. The more seeds they could get the more they could send out and get people planting again. The people that were left had to learn things again that had been forgotten. Gardening was once a family staple. Go anywhere in the US and you would see a family garden in up through the 60 and 70's but after that they had tapered off. The old knowledge of parents and grandparents was being lost. People no longer knew how to can and smoke food. The ability to make small repairs, make butter or cheese, knit or sheer sheep for wool lost to be a few in the technological euphoria of the 21 century. People had no time for these things anymore it was more important to have the newest I-phone or gaming station. When things went from bad to worst in the middle east and then finally someone started dropping bombs those things mattered very little. Ham and CB radios were the first things that seemed to come back to life. The people that had them had protected them and once the radiation had cleared enough they were broadcasting albeit cautiously. It was a dangerous time people did not moved around in those months after the bombs. They hoped they had enough to sustain however many they had been able to get to safety before the world went dark. Then the time of the raiders had happened. The people were just starting to venture out and then stories came of these half crazed brutes. Most had been convicts and many had some form of radiation sickness that ate away at their brains. Some people even speculated that biologicals had been used at the end and these people had been outside when some germ weapon had detonated and made then crazy. It mattered little once the stories were out people shot them on site. Once towns began to form on the ruins of the old cities they would post guards. If a group was seen they would be chased down and killed to the last man. Now there were fewer of them and they mainly attacked small groups crossing open areas where they had an advantage of numbers. They seldom bother the motorized vehicles anymore they always had guards with guns and they were always very good shots.
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Clean action books 
Originally Posted by nancy98
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