JBIronWorks
A Remnant of Society
A Remnant of Society:
A Short Post-Apocalyptic Story
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
They had been driving across the desolate expanse of desert wasteland for several hours, when Alixa lowered her binoculars and pointed ahead and slightly to the right.
“I see something over there,” she said, shouting over the wind and the roar of the engine to be heard by the other occupant of the Polaris Dune Rover.
Aaron, driving, swerved the battered Rover around part of a rusted car sticking up out of the sand.
“What do you think it is?” he shouted back.
“I think it’s an abandoned farmstead. Might be worth checking out.”
The other nodded, and turned the nose of the Polaris towards the distant farm.
Passing tumbleweeds, and the occasional piece of wreckage, they drew closer to the farm with each passing minute, until finally it loomed up before them.
Aaron pulled the Polaris up to what had been the yard in front of the main house, and shut the engine off.
The two of them sat for a moment, studying the farmstead.
The main house, two stories high plus an attic, had once been painted solid white, with a varnished oak wrap-around veranda, topped off with a shallow-peaked roof of olive green shingle.
The white paint remained for the most part, although there were places were it had worn away or faded.
Time and the harsh weather had not been so kind to the porch and roof, however.
The varnish on the porch was all but gone, and in several places the railing had cracked or broken entirely off. Sand was piled up in multiple places along the porch, in some places completely covering the veranda.
The roof was even worse.
A huge hole dominated the right-hand side, jagged and sagging. Shingles had dislodged and fallen away in many places, leaving the roof pockmarked.
The door and been knocked off its’ hinges at some point, shutters were missing from their windows in several places, large cracks were visible in the walls, and there were bullet holes in various spots.
Alongside the house was a large well, once clear water now scummed over.
Right next to the well, (A really bad place for it, in my opinion, Aaron thought), was an old wooden telephone pole, bent and leaning, with a few severed wires trailing from its’ sagging arms.
In front of the main house was a rusting green gas tank, and in the near distance the occupants of the Polaris could make out an old barn and the stump of what had been a windmill.
All in all, Alixa thought, It was a sad remnant of society.
“Well,” Aaron said after a minute, breaking the silence. “Let’s get out and take a look around.”
The two of them climbed out of the Polaris, and removed their helmets, placing them in their seats.
Aaron swapped his helmet for a black Dorfman Pacific adventure hat, placing it on his somewhat unkempt red hair, while Alixa simply let her shoulder-length raven locks tumble free.
Reaching back into the vehicle, Aaron removed the keys from the ignition, sticking them in a pocket, and then picked up his FN SCAR-L from where it sat between the seats.
Chambering a round, Aaron slung the weapon’s sling over his shoulder, and started advancing across the yard towards the rusty fuel tank, saying over his shoulder,
“Might as well see if there’s any gas left. You check the well, see if the water can be filtered.”
Alixa nodded, and retrieved her SIG Sauer SSG 3000 from beside her seat.
Aaron had found the rifle for her in a demolished police station a few towns back, and she’d had grown fond of the reliable weapon.
Working the bolt to chamber a round, Alixa cradled the rifle loosely in her hands, and approached the rank-smelling well.
“Yuck,” she muttered, peering over the rusted metal rim.
The water inside was green and a thick layer of scum had formed over, but underneath, she could faintly see, was clearer liquid.
“The surface is pretty scummed over, but there appears to be fresher water below that. I think we might be able to filter some of it,” she called to Aaron, who was standing on top of the old fuel tank, peering through the open hatch.
“Good. We’ll get the filters out in a minute,” he called back.
Then, after a second, he hopped down and made his way over to her, avoiding the various rusted pieces of junk that littered the yard.
“No gas in that, unfortunately,” Aaron said, jerking a thumb at the tank.
He nodded at the ruined house.
“Let’s search that, see if there’s anything we can use.”
Alixa nodded her agreement, and the two of them headed across the yard for the sagging front steps.
As Araon went to mount the first step, something crashed against a hard surface inside the house.
They both froze, gripping their weapons tighter, waiting tensely for any other sounds.
After about a minute, Alixa relaxed, lowering the SIG Sauer.
“Must have just been a picture falling off the wall or something,” she said lightly.
Aaron slowly lowered his assault rifle, nodding idly as he scanned the yard, looking for anything out of place, as he had been taught to do during his Ranger training.
“You’re probably right. In an old wreck like this the wall probably wasn’t strong enough to support whatever it was, and it ju—.”
He stopped mid-sentence, as his roving eyes fell upon a beat-up motorcycle leaning against the peeling side of the barn.
“Well, might as well go and see—,” Alixa stopped, realizing Aaron wasn’t paying any attention to her.
“What is it?”
He pointed at the motorcycle, and stepped closer to her.
“That bike,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“What about it?” she responded, matching his low tone instinctively. “And why are we whispering?”
“It’s not part of the farm. It’s in too good a condition to have been left here by whoever used to own this place,” the other replied, ignoring her second question.
“What are you saying?” Alixa said, the uncertainty evident in her voice.
“I’m saying,” Aaron answered, bringing the FN SCAR up to his shoulder as he scanned the farm anew, “We’re not alone here.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
So, this is my first post-apocalyptic MOC, and I must say, I'm really happy with the way it turned out.
This will be on display at BFVA, which is in just three weeks!
Hope you all like it! :)
A Remnant of Society
A Remnant of Society:
A Short Post-Apocalyptic Story
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
They had been driving across the desolate expanse of desert wasteland for several hours, when Alixa lowered her binoculars and pointed ahead and slightly to the right.
“I see something over there,” she said, shouting over the wind and the roar of the engine to be heard by the other occupant of the Polaris Dune Rover.
Aaron, driving, swerved the battered Rover around part of a rusted car sticking up out of the sand.
“What do you think it is?” he shouted back.
“I think it’s an abandoned farmstead. Might be worth checking out.”
The other nodded, and turned the nose of the Polaris towards the distant farm.
Passing tumbleweeds, and the occasional piece of wreckage, they drew closer to the farm with each passing minute, until finally it loomed up before them.
Aaron pulled the Polaris up to what had been the yard in front of the main house, and shut the engine off.
The two of them sat for a moment, studying the farmstead.
The main house, two stories high plus an attic, had once been painted solid white, with a varnished oak wrap-around veranda, topped off with a shallow-peaked roof of olive green shingle.
The white paint remained for the most part, although there were places were it had worn away or faded.
Time and the harsh weather had not been so kind to the porch and roof, however.
The varnish on the porch was all but gone, and in several places the railing had cracked or broken entirely off. Sand was piled up in multiple places along the porch, in some places completely covering the veranda.
The roof was even worse.
A huge hole dominated the right-hand side, jagged and sagging. Shingles had dislodged and fallen away in many places, leaving the roof pockmarked.
The door and been knocked off its’ hinges at some point, shutters were missing from their windows in several places, large cracks were visible in the walls, and there were bullet holes in various spots.
Alongside the house was a large well, once clear water now scummed over.
Right next to the well, (A really bad place for it, in my opinion, Aaron thought), was an old wooden telephone pole, bent and leaning, with a few severed wires trailing from its’ sagging arms.
In front of the main house was a rusting green gas tank, and in the near distance the occupants of the Polaris could make out an old barn and the stump of what had been a windmill.
All in all, Alixa thought, It was a sad remnant of society.
“Well,” Aaron said after a minute, breaking the silence. “Let’s get out and take a look around.”
The two of them climbed out of the Polaris, and removed their helmets, placing them in their seats.
Aaron swapped his helmet for a black Dorfman Pacific adventure hat, placing it on his somewhat unkempt red hair, while Alixa simply let her shoulder-length raven locks tumble free.
Reaching back into the vehicle, Aaron removed the keys from the ignition, sticking them in a pocket, and then picked up his FN SCAR-L from where it sat between the seats.
Chambering a round, Aaron slung the weapon’s sling over his shoulder, and started advancing across the yard towards the rusty fuel tank, saying over his shoulder,
“Might as well see if there’s any gas left. You check the well, see if the water can be filtered.”
Alixa nodded, and retrieved her SIG Sauer SSG 3000 from beside her seat.
Aaron had found the rifle for her in a demolished police station a few towns back, and she’d had grown fond of the reliable weapon.
Working the bolt to chamber a round, Alixa cradled the rifle loosely in her hands, and approached the rank-smelling well.
“Yuck,” she muttered, peering over the rusted metal rim.
The water inside was green and a thick layer of scum had formed over, but underneath, she could faintly see, was clearer liquid.
“The surface is pretty scummed over, but there appears to be fresher water below that. I think we might be able to filter some of it,” she called to Aaron, who was standing on top of the old fuel tank, peering through the open hatch.
“Good. We’ll get the filters out in a minute,” he called back.
Then, after a second, he hopped down and made his way over to her, avoiding the various rusted pieces of junk that littered the yard.
“No gas in that, unfortunately,” Aaron said, jerking a thumb at the tank.
He nodded at the ruined house.
“Let’s search that, see if there’s anything we can use.”
Alixa nodded her agreement, and the two of them headed across the yard for the sagging front steps.
As Araon went to mount the first step, something crashed against a hard surface inside the house.
They both froze, gripping their weapons tighter, waiting tensely for any other sounds.
After about a minute, Alixa relaxed, lowering the SIG Sauer.
“Must have just been a picture falling off the wall or something,” she said lightly.
Aaron slowly lowered his assault rifle, nodding idly as he scanned the yard, looking for anything out of place, as he had been taught to do during his Ranger training.
“You’re probably right. In an old wreck like this the wall probably wasn’t strong enough to support whatever it was, and it ju—.”
He stopped mid-sentence, as his roving eyes fell upon a beat-up motorcycle leaning against the peeling side of the barn.
“Well, might as well go and see—,” Alixa stopped, realizing Aaron wasn’t paying any attention to her.
“What is it?”
He pointed at the motorcycle, and stepped closer to her.
“That bike,” he said, keeping his voice low.
“What about it?” she responded, matching his low tone instinctively. “And why are we whispering?”
“It’s not part of the farm. It’s in too good a condition to have been left here by whoever used to own this place,” the other replied, ignoring her second question.
“What are you saying?” Alixa said, the uncertainty evident in her voice.
“I’m saying,” Aaron answered, bringing the FN SCAR up to his shoulder as he scanned the farm anew, “We’re not alone here.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
So, this is my first post-apocalyptic MOC, and I must say, I'm really happy with the way it turned out.
This will be on display at BFVA, which is in just three weeks!
Hope you all like it! :)