Apocalypse of Fire
The Charred Lands,
Volume 1
By Josh A. Murphy
Published by Josh A. Murphy, 2014.
This is a work of fiction, any similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Apocalypse of Fire
First Edition. July 27th, 2014.
Copyright © 2014 Josh A. Murphy
Written by Josh A. Murphy
Also by Josh A. Murphy:
Unfortunate Friends
More information at Josh A. Murphy’s Facebook page
Table of Contents
Special Thanks
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Author’s Note
Contact
Special thanks too:
Everyone who’s shown an interest in the progress of this book, it’s with your support that I’ve had the motivation to get this thing done!
Chapter One
It’s a harsh world that I live in. I’ve always known fear, loss and death, but for the most part the earlier years of my life have been comfortable. I’ve always known where my next meal was coming from. I could trust those around me, and most importantly I’ve had a permanent home. These few simple things may not have seemed like much a few decades ago, but that was a different world. I didn’t know that world. All I’ve ever known is destruction and fire: for I am a child of the Charred Lands.
The stories that Grandpa told me of life before the Rise always seemed more like fairy tales than reality. Grandpa was the oldest man I had ever met. He seemed like some kind of an ancient relic, one of only a few who still lived with memories of the Old World. Growing up I would beg that he tell me stories of normality before my bedtime. My favourites were always those which revolved around simple things; like what computers were, what cars did and other things which at the time were everyday utilities. To me, these forgotten technologies seemed alien, it always fascinated me hearing what Grandpa Graham’s life was like before The Rise.
The year was 2056, The Rise happened forty-two years before. Of the eighteen people living on my father’s farm, only four had been alive to see it. My father himself was only two years old at the time and his memories of the earlier years were non-existent, he remembers very little of anything directly after The Rise. But my Grandpa came with forty-two years of experiences before The Rise - exactly half of his life. He was eighty-four and still going strong, though he bore plenty of scars from the Charred Lands - scars which he had earned whilst fighting to make a safe community for him, his wife and his infant child. It took less than a year for Grandpa Graham to stumble across what we now know as Haven, and that’s where he’s remained ever since. This is where he’s raised a family and where he’s grown old.
With the help of my Nan, Grandpa was able to build something safe in a world full of death and destruction. It’s thanks to their struggles that our family are able to live in peace, right here in Haven. It hasn’t all been plain sailing. Shortly after they settled down, my Nan fell pregnant with their second child, Timothy. This was apparently quite a stressful time, but my Nan was able to give birth without any complications. There have also been several attacks from various groups of bandits, usually we were able to fend them off, but one time a small group of Charred Lander’s attacked Haven, we managed to defend the place but we took on one casualty. Her name was Kylie. She had stumbled across Haven in her teens and soon came to marry my uncle, Timothy. A stray bullet hit her in the head whilst she guarded the children. I still remember the way she hit the floor, completely still and limp. I had nightmares for months, but I overcame the emotional trauma of seeing a loved one shot down in front of me. The same can’t be said for Timothy, however. Not only did he lose his wife, but also his unborn child. Kylie was six months pregnant at the time of her death. This is perhaps the darkest chapter in Haven’s history. We don’t talk about it much.
Last week I turned sixteen, soon my father will start to train me on how to survive in what we know as The Charred Lands. I’ve scarcely ever stepped a foot out of Haven, and have very little first-hand experience of the outside world. But I’ve heard the stories. Occasionally weary travellers will pass through our home. With them they bring supplies and tales to trade with us for a warm bed for the night. They bring stories of unspeakable things, things which seem a world away from our relatively peaceful little homestead. Men come and talk of murder, cannibalism and rape. They told us of a harsh land where only the fittest survived, where one mistake can lead to death, and what frightened me the most; where the monsters lived.
I knew I wasn’t made for this world, not outside of Haven at least. I was a book worm, a coward, nothing like my older brother or my dad. I looked up to them, but I knew I could never be like them. Whilst my older brother, Brandon was out hunting with my father, I would be at home reading or writing. Going out and learning the ways of the land with my dad scared me to the core, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. I was going to have to stand up and face my duties like a man. The only way small communities like Haven can last, is if all of the residents stick together and work to make it work. That is why we have lasted so long whilst other communities in the area have fallen.
I’ve decided that I might not be the best scavenger, strongest fighter, or quickest runner - but I do have some very unique skills which are hard to come across in this harsh, hateful world. A sharp mind, an eagerness to learn and a passion for teaching; this is exactly why I’ve started writing this. Maybe if I can document our struggles, others can learn from our success, or even our short comings. If mankind is ever going to rise up and become the dominant species in this world again, then somebody needs to teach new generations how to do it. Techniques need documenting, and laws need making. That is my goal.
Chapter Two
The red haze in the skies above always made me feel eerie whenever outside. Something, somewhere in the Wasteland was always burning. Clear blue skies above were rare – usually everyone in Haven would come out to enjoy the infrequent unfiltered sun rays. These occasions were always a highlight of mine. Everyone around the farm had their own jobs, so it was nice when the entire family came out and got together to soak up some sun and clear skies. Something about those days seemed to make everyone happier and raise their spirits, all be it temporarily.
However, today wasn’t one of those days. I couldn’t help but notice that the smell of burning hung unusually heavy in the air today, more so than usual. The ever lingering smoke from the great fires clouded above our little community just as they always did. I can’t remember a single day in which the smell of smoke didn’t linger in the air, I doubted anybody alive had since the start of The Rise either. I could only imagine what fresh, untainted air would feel like in my nostrils.
“Finally, he awakes!” my dad called as I trotted across the open field between the main farm house and our protective walls. In truth, I was relatively surprised to find that he had let me sleep in. Today was an important day. Today I was to go on my first mission outside of Haven. Usually, my father and Timot
hy would take out the trainees for a simple routine maintenance check on Havens walls. During this they would be briefed on standard protocol for being outside in The Charred Lands and other simple things like that, but not today.
“Brandon has all of your gear ready for you in the barn,” My dad said as I finally reached him. I noticed that my father was already fully equipped for the mission.
“Worried?” he added, sensing my apprehension. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh, I had been planning on trying to hide my nerves as best I could, but clearly my dad had seen through my disguise. He had a knack for picking up on things like that; I should have known he would suss me straight away.
“A little. Especially after what’s happened to Tony and such,” I said. Nodding, my father placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Look Zachary, you don’t need me to tell you how dangerous The Charred Lands are. You’ve heard it a thousand times before. I know we need to put on a brave face for Tony’s wife, but in all honesty this is a recovery mission. I’m not too confident that we’ll be finding these guys alive out there. It’s our job to work out exactly what happened to them.” He said.
Up until that moment my Dad had shown nothing but optimism about finding the missing citizens. I guess it made sense to keep up appearances for Tony’s wife, Andrea. After all, she had lost almost everything she held dear in this world.
Three days ago, Tony Olsen, his oldest child Kyle and his middle daughter Amy had set off to scout out an area about a mile away from Haven. They hadn’t returned. Ever since then Andrea and her one remaining child, Laura have been an emotional mess. Nobody could blame them, so I figured doing our best to try and remain positive for their sake made sense.
Our mission, and my first real venture outside of Haven was to try and find exactly what happened to them. Ideally, we wanted to find and rescue them, but as my father had finally openly admitted, the most likely scenario was that the three missing Olsen’s were dead. Even finding any evidence of this was asking a lot. Anything could have happened to them. For all I knew, they could have been kidnapped and be a thousand miles away by now. Literally anything was possible out there.
With that, I said goodbye to my father and headed off to the barn were Brandon was waiting for me with my gear. Despite my nerves, I didn’t stall in making my way over.
“For a while there I thought you’d chickened out on us.” My oldest sibling, Brandon smiled as I entered the barn. It was abuzz with activity, as usual. The barn served as out main base of operations – it was rarely calm and collected in here, especially if people were heading out into The Charred Lands.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I laughed, nervously. Perhaps I could do a better job at hiding my worries from my brother than I had my dad.
A confident half grin split his face as he watched me approach. Brandon towered over me, I felt like a tiny child in comparison. Fitness and working out were his passion. I would find peace and solitude in one of the many books lying around the farm house, whilst Brandon seemed to let off his steam by hitting the make shift gym at the back of the barn. For some reason, Brandon always opted to wear tight clothing, despite there being more size appropriate clothes available. He always says it’s because it allows him to be more agile out in the Wasteland, but really I think he just likes the way it makes his muscles show. He was like that, he was attractive and he knew it – all of the girls on the farm looked up to him, and he loved the attention. In many ways, Brandon was almost the complete opposite of me. He was built for combat, brimming with confidence and blessed with charming good lucks; whilst I had arms like twigs, and always wore an old pair of glasses that my Grandpa managed to sellotape together for me.
“Good to see you lad.” My uncle, Timothy called as he noticed me from across the barn. He gave me a quick wave before returning to the stack of maps laid out in front of him. He always liked to have an exact and unique plan whenever he set foot into the Wasteland, which usually required some in depth study of local maps.
The gear Brandon had laid out for me was just as I expected; very minimal and light weight. We were quite well stocked here, meaning everyone had a gun for themselves and plenty of ammo. We always did our best to try and pry some off of travellers in return for a safe bed for the night whenever one happened to pass by. Placed down on the table was an old was an old rusty Beretta, which was exactly what I had been hoping for, something small and simple. This gun would be mine until I either earned, or found another. Just like the rest of our weapons, mine had a small emblem scratched onto the handle of the gun.
I picked up the weapon and gave it a good look over, no doubt Dexter Payne had already cleaned it for me, but it always paid to double check. It felt empowering to hold a fire arm in my hands. Up until this moment I had only ever held a gun at the firing range whilst my father taught me the basics of gun play, but now this weapon was mine. From this moment on I would have to clean it, look after it and care for it. Quite a few people around the farm referred to their weapons as their babies, I had never quite understood why, that is until I held my own for the first time. I instantly felt a connection. If I looked after this and kept it in the best shape I could, it would in turn look after me.
Aside from the Beretta, several other essentials for venturing outside had also been placed down on the table for me. These were; a whistle, a flashlight, one clip of ammunition, heavy duty boots, and a combat knife. I had always been told that absolutely anything can happen out in the Wasteland, so it always paid to be prepared. One time a new recruit lost his way and wasn’t seen for another five days. He eventually turned up at the farms walls, bleeding heavily and extremely dehydrated. From that point on everyone was made to religiously study the local maps, as well as being given a whistle for attracting attention and a flashlight in case they become lost and weren’t able to find their way home before nightfall.
I quickly holstered all of my equipment and threw my heavy duty boots on before nodding to my brother to let him know that I was ready. A few moments later, me, my brother and Uncle Timothy left the barn to join my father by Haven’s walls. With each step towards my father, I felt the tension rise within me. I felt as though my breakfast was ready to repeat on me, my mother had given me an extra-large portion this morning as she did her best to calm me down and send me out in good spirits. She always hated it whenever one of her children were out in the Wasteland, never mind when it was their first time. She had managed to get used to Brandon leaving the confides of our community, she was even beginning to get used to my older sister Ruby heading out too, but I wasn’t like either of them. She knew I was quieter and more reliant on others. Sometimes I even felt like my younger brother and sister, Toby and Amber were going to be ready for the outside world before I was, and they were only seven and eleven, respectively.
“All set?” My father asked the three of us as we approached him. He stood by the gate, beside him my older sister, Ruby waited with the rope to unlock Haven’s only gate. Ruby wouldn’t be joining us today, we didn’t like to have too many people out at once – but not only that, mother would have flipped if she found out that three of her children were out all at the same time.
My heart began to race in my chest, and my palms grew sweaty as Ruby began to yank on the gate’s rope. A few moments later the doors were open and the Wasteland outside awaited us.
Chapter Three
I felt as though my entire world was being slammed shut behind me as Ruby pulled Haven’s gates to a close, locking us outside. Having my father, big brother and uncle with me did help settle my nerves to a degree – I can only wonder how I might have felt had I been venturing out with Dexter Payne or anyone else from outside of my family. Sure, everyone in the community was extremely close but nothing came near to family, even if you had spent your entire life surrounded by them.
“Keep your wits about you.” Timothy whispered to me as the four of us progressed further away from the Wasteland. There was a harshness to his voice, unli
ke my brother and father who had done their best to try and keep the mood as light as they could for me.
We walked in single file down a small dirt path between thick rows of trees, with my father at the front of the pack and my brother at the back. My Grandpa always told me how lucky we were to have such beautiful, untarnished woodlands around our farm. He often spoke of entire forests, entire cities and towns being burnt down in a matter of minutes since the Rise. He told me we had both our secluded location, and sheer blind luck to thank for that.
The greenery around me almost gave me a false sense of comfort. Right here, walking through the swaying green trees it was hard to imagine the world which had been described to me, even with the thick, grey smoke clouds lingering just above the tree line as a constant reminder of the danger. Perhaps that’s what Timothy meant when he told me to keep my wits about me. I quickly detached my attention from the scenery and refocused on the task at hand.
Tony, Amy and Kyle had been heading just over a mile away from Haven to check on our only known neighbour, Barry Deer. He lived in a small cottage just down the road from us. He usually kept himself to himself, but occasionally came down to visit us in order to trade some supplies with us. It had been over two months since his last appearance. Growing worried for his safety, we decided to send Tony and two of his children to check up on Barry on their next venture outside of Haven. We hadn’t heard from any of them since they left.
Dexter Payne theorised that Barry may have murdered the trio. It was a definite possibility, something we have prepared ourselves for. My father instructed that we were to shoot Barry without question should we arrive at his home and find anything amiss. Personally, I wouldn’t put it past him. I had never quite liked the guy, nor trusted him whenever he visited Haven. He always looked at the girl’s a little funny and never seemed to have the time of day for me. He was always more interested in talking to the women around the place, young and old. I could never understand why on earth he would choose to reject several invitations to live with us, in favour of living a secluded life all alone. Nobody really knew him all that well; God only knows what he might be capable of.
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