- everyone who was sick feels better
- everyone who was busy finds some time to rest
- everyone is enjoying a wonderful sunny, funny weekend
And because it's Cazekiel-Day, I have a little something for you. Another story from my Reboot-Universe, three chapter, Zeke-focused this time. I hope will you like.
What you should know about the Reboot-Universe:
This Universe is a x-over between The Faculty (movie) and Jeremiah (TV-series). You don't need to know anything about Jeremiah nor The Faculty to read these stories, but if you do some elements will be quite familiar for you. Please notice: Not movie conform.
Short summery: Casey had been able to fight the alien-queen who tried to take over the world, but her death released a virus which killed almost everyone older than twenty. Life has changed a lot for those who were able to survive, also for Casey & Zeke.
If you want to read other stories from this universe klick: here
Title: Reboot - Sister Hannah (chapter 1 / 3)
Fandoms: Crossover - The Faculty / Jeremiah
Summery: about the downfall from the old world and the start of a new one
Disclaimer: Neither The Faculty nor Jeremiah are mine, of course ;)
Slowly Zeke sneaked nearer to the old factory building. It seemed to be safe, he had scanned the surroundings thoroughly but couldn't discover a guard. Through the broken window he could hear voices, laughing, talking, some people seemed to be in the great hall. He just hoped it weren't more than four or five of them, he had promised Casey to be careful and to come back when the group of Skinheads turned out to be too large.
Usually they tried to stay out of their way, a lot people build gangs nowadays and the Skinheads were one of the worst. They weren't looking for a place where they could stay but dashed around the country in small groups and took what they wanted, often enough with brutal force. To deal with them was a much too high risk.
But this time Zeke saw it as their last option to get the needed distributor for the Chevrolet. Already twice he had been able to repair it provisional but now there was no chance anymore to get it up and running again. He needed some spare parts. But they were stranded in the middle of the nowhere in the wild mountains of Oregon. No one around but the Skinheads they had seen yesterday.
“They have cars,” Zeke had told Casey.
“I'm sure they will have spare parts too. The only chance we have, or we will have to give up the Chevrolet and move on by foot.”
Actually not an option. Nevertheless it had been a though job to convince Casey. He had insisted to come with him but no way that he would put him into this danger. At the end he had left him behind with the Chevrolet, only a few miles away from the factory building.
“Don't you dare it not to come back,” Casey had told him while fighting back his tears.
“I will kill you when you do.”
Zeke had smiled because of this contrariness and pulled him into his arms.
Then he was on the way only with a small backpack. He had thought about it to take his gun along but finally decided against it. Even if it was only a small group, it was him against all of them and it would be better not to appear as a threat. He needed to convince them that all he wanted was to do some countertrade, an interesting dealing for them. Usual goods like sugar, milk powder or batteries wouldn't quicken their interest, but he still had two bottles of Whiskey. Jim Beam, good stuff from the old world, almost impossible to find it these days. And if this was not enough …
Zeke thought of the ten pens of Scat he did hide under his jacket. His homemade drugs with a stunning effect. Back at Highschool it had been a money-spinner. Not that he did need the money he made with his dealings, the monthly check was the only thing he could count on when it came to parental care. But it was fun to watch these dumbheads spending all their money right down to the last penny for a 'drug' whose ingredients one could easily buy at every drugstore.
But these times were long gone. Mary Beth had changed all. Not only that many of his customers didn't survive the next few weeks or just got swallowed up by the chaos prevailing after the alien invasion. It had been his Scat which finally beat the alien queen. Casey had rammed a pen right into her eye and only a moment later she started to dissolve.
It turned out quickly that her death wasn't the salvation for the mankind because it unleashed the virus. Only slowly Zeke had started to realize it that possibly the future of the world was lying in his hands. For the moment the Big Death seemed to have reached the end, most of the adults were dead. But Zeke was smart, he knew that it was possible that the virus just had decided to take some rest, that it could mutate and then come back again. To take the rest of them.
His Scat might be the solution. Sometimes at night, when Casey was sleeping beside him, he got absorbed in his thoughts. When the drug was able to kill the carrier of the virus then it should be possible to use it to find an antidote. Problem was: he would need a high-tech laboratory to prove this but the times of technology and research were gone. They were fighting for the daily survive now, for food and fresh water, for a warm place during cold winter nights …
Nevertheless, instinctively he had kept it secret that he had been able to salvage some boxes with Scat out of his destroyed lab. He hadn't used it, he hadn't traded it in. And he was reluctant to give it to people like the Skinheads now. Of course they didn't know about its effect on the virus. But even if they were brutal, they weren't stupid. No all of them. Zeke hated the idea that they probably would try to analyze the composition of his Scat to get more of it. The possibility couldn't be excluded that they discovered the secret behind it in this process. And he didn't want to imagine what they would do with their knowledge.
Suddenly the vibe in the old factory-hall changed, Zeke could hear the voices growing louder, some of them angry, others almost … scared?
"Hey, who's that?"
"What the hell have you done?"
"Get her out here, she will infect all of us."
A stentorian voice drowned out all the others.
“Steven. Come here.”
Something unexpected was going on in the hall, that was obvious. Zeke decided to risk a look through one of the large skylights. He used a nearby tree to climb onto the flat roof, then he sneaked carefully nearer to the opening, the glass long broken, so he had an unobstructed view into the hall.
For half of the part the hall was in the shadow, he could only discern three dark figures. But the center was sunlit. A brawny guy was standing there, the bald head covered with tattoos, despite it was not warm in the hall he was just wearing a dark waistcoat to his old denims. It was obvious that he was the one who called the shots, the others showed him a kind of defiant respect. Opposite him another guy, only a bit smaller, a large knife in his belt.
But it was the third person which took Zeke's breath away for a second. A woman, small, almost fragile. She wore a long dress, worn up but clean and patched, a bright scarf covered her hair. The guy squeezed her arm violently, for sure it did hurt. But she didn't show any sign of pain or fear, was just standing there straight up, didn't even try to avoid eye contact with the boss.
Zeke swallowed. No wonder that even the Skinheads felt anxious and disturbed by her. She was …
old … pretty old.
Chapter 2 next weekend