1

The unrelenting summer rain crashed down on the barren roadside as I collected myself, standing up from having looted one of the fallen bodies.

"Jesus, he just killed him! He's a goddamn psycho!!"

"Damn it Cal, don't look back! Let's make for the car, now!!"

Two men dragged each other away from me, barely able to see as they made their way towards the red lights of their station wagon. Splashing towards them, I scratched the back of my neck with their dead friend's Colt pistol.

"C'mon, fellas... I won your stupid three-on-one Turpin's Tilt. I was even going to let you go until your mate flipped out like a total sore loser. Shouldn't I get to keep your ride, at least?"

I watched them throw themselves into the vehicle, and waited for it... The scream, when they realised that I was twirling the stolen keys between my fingers. Smiling to myself, I reloaded my new toy and waited for the inevitable backlash. One of the boys came out, brandishing his own revolver with shaky hands.

"H-Hand them over!! I won't say it again, so just let us go, man..." I let a shot ring out, almost in slow-motion as my bullet hit the back of his hand and forced him to abandon his grip on the gun with a blood-curling howl.

Taking a few steps forward, I leaned in close to the unarmed man's ear just as his friend poked his head outside of my trophy car. The heavy rain rolled off of our faces as I reminded him of our initial conversation. "...And I'll say this again, one more time before you clowns try to start another fight. Can I have some directions, please?"

----

I had been driving for at least an hour into the night, rather enjoying the sombre weather's kiss on the windshield as I played around with my new station wagon's control dials. My inner child had always craved a shiny red car for when I was older, and it was a total rush to have 'acquired' such a sexy model for free.

It had been a lonely week or two, probably somewhere in between; the concept of time had escaped me in my troubled mind, hitch-hiking and roughing it to the West with only the clothes on my back... which I had also stolen from this car's previous owner, but that was another story.

There was a single rule that I had forced myself to abide by, which was to give everybody one chance only before pulling the trigger. Judging by the number of the people I'd encountered that had tried to rob, rape and kill me, I had to lower my standards from two chances to one at some point.

At least four Turpin's Tilt challenges had come and gone, each one I had ruthlessly powered through in order to get what I needed. Food, maps, guns... Now that everything I could possibly require was safely stored in the back-seat of my new set of wheels, I was ready.

It was time to start test-driving the new me, and as luck would have it, I knew exactly where to start.

As I rolled the car to a stop outside of my destination, I reminded myself to shift most of my possessions into a camouflage shoulder bag that I'd swiped previously.

I wasn't dumb enough to leave loose supplies lying in my car, especially considering the place that I was about to enter...

It seemed almost redundant to scout the area for any Lost, even their masses were becoming a rare sight in the dried-up wasteland.

I understood all too well that it wouldn't stay this way, though... The West coast grew closer with each mile, bearing the perfect conditions for these monsters to thrive in much larger herds.

Locking my new vehicle's door, I could barely see three inches in front of my nose while attempting to dodge the blustering wind and rain, but somehow I finally arrived at the massive wooden shack's doorway.

As I leaned against the sheltered entrance to catch my breath from the hasty dash over, a puff of stray smoke blew crudely into my face and forced me to cough.

The rather intense-looking smoker at the doorway turned towards the noise, and I couldn't help but chuckle with a coy grin as I looked up.

"Daniel... So, you're back."

Her face turned upwards into a smile, which felt odd considering how we'd last left things. I decided to ignore the past, and went in for a hug despite knowing that any kind of affection would piss her off as usual.

"I'll be damned, Alisha... You knew I'd keep going, didn't you? Wait, if you're here too, than that means you saw the..."

My ex-teacher friend from Chicago nodded, and drew another breath from her cigarette as she eyed me up and down before nudging her head towards the shack. "You'll find who you came for in there, club hours are still open. I should warn you, though... It's not a pretty sight."

"Who says I came here for one reason only? I need a team to be able to survive... and I know that you're the kind of person who needs to be needed. Don't pretend that it doesn't hurt, being alone like this..."

Folding my arms, I let her examine my confidence before she shrugged it off with an amused whistle.

 "You've changed, huh... Maybe you're not totally useless, after all. Whatever, just head inside and talk to him first before you go deciding shit like that. I've already tried to bring him around, but... he's a stubborn ass."

I was about to turn towards the entrance when she reached out and tugged on my wrist lightly, a rare sympathetic display of consolation. "Hey... She isn't gone, you know. That little girl needs you to be strong, so go and take her back... put up a damn good fight, while you're at it."

Giving her a painful nod of affirmation, I left my old companion to her smoking habits as I knocked on the shack's door. To the left, a luminous window sign read 'Apoca-Bliss', a name I'd heard about from several passing survivors before coming here.

It was a bandit trading hub, an overnight hotel and a gentleman's club all rolled into one. Pretty much the seediest joint for miles, and the same place where one of my friends had landed after we all went our separate ways.

A tall, burly woman opened the wooden door and promptly extended her large palm to me in demand. Having familiarized myself with the trade, I reached into my backpack and pulled out three large cans of tuna.

Feeling the weight of them in her hands, the unfriendly bouncer woman grunted and opened the door fully.

"Wait a second..." I asked as I pulled a crude homemade flyer from my pocket and held it up for her. It was detailing an event inside Apoca-Bliss that had played a couple of days ago, but there was something that had drawn my interest in particular.

Pointing to one of the minor stars of the show, I cleared my throat with detachment. "Do you know who this is? Where can I find him, maybe?"

I could tell that the bouncer was puzzled, and that I was going to have to say the stage name in full. "Err... Okay, do you... Can you show me where... Ding Dong Daddy is?"

While I cringed with embarrassment, the bear-like woman didn't even raise her eyebrows as she herded me inside and pulled on my arm to guide me through the immediate crowd of bar patrons.

The entire shack appeared to be crammed-full with survivors, it was rather difficult to see under the black-light and many red neon signs. I would've been impressed with the sheer volume of the crowd if the whole setup didn't give me the chills; I'd never seen so many dangerous characters under one roof before.

This place felt shady to the highest degree, and the fully-armed customers did nothing to ease my comfort. One false move, and I could have a bullet between my eyes before knowing whom I had offended, or even how.

Everyone was clinking drinks together and cat-calling towards the stage area where a group of semi-nude teen girls swung around sluggishly on poles.

Blinking their glassy eyes out of a broken trance as they took off more clothes, it became abundantly clear that not one of them was above the legal age... not that anyone else would worry about such things in these lawless times.

Turning the corner into a private lounge as the strippers began crawling around the platform, I shook the image away and instead looked up to the bouncer who was still leading me by the hand like a lost infant. Catching my gaze, she finally decided to strike up some conversation.

"...Don't look so embarrassed. Mr Ding Dong is pretty damn popular with the male visitors... No idea how he does it. Only been here a week, and he's close to being our most-requested choice of 'entertainment'."

Nodding stiffly at my beefy guide, she ushered my tense shoulders into one of the lounge's back rooms and drew the curtain between us, leaving me in almost complete darkness. "You two work out the payment, I'm still on door duty."

Before I could protest to being left alone in there, I sensed someone else's presence watching me in the bare cubicle of a room. A hand grasped my side, and I just about rocketed into the ceiling with alarm before letting out a vulnerable yelp.

"Oh! You're a shy one, then? No worries, I can take good care of ya-" Spinning around to the seductive voice, my eyes found his face and we both flew into the opposite corners of the room.

"D-Daniel?!? Holy- Oh, crap!! It's not what it sounds like... I wasn't gonna..." My old friend slumped down onto the floor, defeated as I struggled to stop piecing together what 'taking good care of me' would have entailed.

After a reflective moment of silence, it was hard for both of us not to laugh... Standing up in the private room and helping him to his feet, I finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind ever since I found his club's flyer.

"So, Tomás... 'Ding Dong Daddy', really?"

Wiping fake tears away, the musician-turned-stripper simply huffed to himself with a cheeky smirk.

"F-Figured it'd be something that mostly the chicas would be interested in. Boy, was I wrong... but whatever. There's no reason to turn down paying customers, I'm just about making people happy these days. I guess I could've tended bar as well, but-"

The curtain behind us flew back, and a rough-looking old man scowled at us as though he'd been listening in.

"Ding Dong, we don't put a roof over your head to make small talk with the clients! Get out here where I can keep an eye on you, and work this kid!"

Before I even knew what was happening, Tomás was profusely apologising to his 'manager' and pushing me out of the cubicle, planting my body down onto a leather sofa in the centre of the velvet-blue lounge.

The whole place looked like the messy aftermath of a bad adult film. A glitter-infused disco ball hung above the both of us, only increasing the club's tackiness to dangerous levels.

Only when he was standing in front of me did I take note of his interesting attire... A tight pair of ripped denim shorts cuddled his hips as he swung himself onto my lap, while he leaned back and started unbuttoning his see-through white shirt. I didn't see much point in the disrobing, his dark nipples were pretty much on display regardless.

"U-Uh, Tom... This is starting to make me a little-"

"Is it weird? Damn, that means I'm waaay too used to this gig, haha... This is the only way that we can chat though, I'm fully-booked tonight. Heading up on stage later with Brandy and-"

"Tom... What happened in that motel?"

He almost fell off of my rigid knees, but managed to recompose himself before impact with the filthy floor. Climbing down, his one good eye glanced off awkwardly to avoid looking directly at me.

"W-Why would you bring that up? I mean, you must know if you came all the way here." He lifted his arms and covered himself up a little, as though he was more worried about his soul being exposed than his body.

"Look, Dan... Everything I said after Rayner made me his bitch, I meant it. I'm a total wimp, so when Telos came to the motel and took Harry, knocked out Beth, you know what I was doing the whole time?"

He bit his lip, and threw a concerned look around the room to make sure that no one heard him. "I was hiding behind the fucking bathroom door, just listening and waiting until they left. I didn't want anything to happen to Beth or Harry, but shit... They were killing everyone in that place like it was nothing."

He paused for a moment, letting the impact sink in. I knew that he was always on the back-burner with the Telos grand-scheme stuff, and now I could see the reason why. "I couldn't even make myself move for hours after everyone was already gone. That's who I am, and that's why I belong here... away from that intense stuff."

His manager had begun grumbling under his breath again as he watched our little lap-dance, annoyed at the intermission as though it ate into whatever 'payment' I owed...

Reasserting himself above me and unzipping his barely-concealing shorts, the hispanic boy revealed a sliver of red latex fabric covering his private area, which I could only blink in response to.

The stripper forced my back down against the sofa, pulling himself over my stomach and started grinding his body against mine.

"I meant the other stuff too, about looking for my fiancée. It's funny, I was no closer to finding her after spending months with you, and within one week of working here, guess what... I've already got a lead."

I sat up somewhat, trying to fight off the strange arousal of being dry-humped out in the open area of the club. "B-Belle, you know where she is? Wait, does that mean..."

"Yeah... It also looks like he's back. I can't tell what it is, but we had a couple of guys calling themselves 'O-Saints' in the club two days ago. Apparently Burkley's mobilising a shitload of survivors in California, the ones he brought over from Scotland too. See, it pays to sell your body for information... err, sometimes."

Trying to look Tomás in the eye, it was hard to concentrate with his bulge almost rubbing into my face every other second.

"I want to help, Tom. Really, everything's different now. We're going to get Harry back, and we're so close to contacting Lizzie. She'll know where Beth was taken, and Belle... You said it yourself, she's somewhere on the road ahead. I want you to come with me... please."

The stripper stopped again, stuck in a position that was bent close to my rain-soaked stomach. It wasn't a bad angle; his olive skin ducked down tight under his exposed abs, looking much more toned than I would've guessed for someone who couldn't do a sit-up to save himself. Then again, we were all getting good exercise thanks to the day-to-day fleeing from the Lost.

"It's 'different' now, eh? Tell me, Dan... Just how have you changed? How do I know that I'm any safer riding with a half-assed compañero indeciso than I am if I just stay here?"

I smirked a little, and reached into my backpack as I tossed my last can of tuna towards the manager so that he would stop muttering to himself about 'freebies'.

"You don't... but you have my word as The Found's captain. I'm calling all the shots now - and if anyone comes and tries to fuck with us like Rayner and the others did... I'll defend you, even if it means killing every last O-Saint and Telos agent in our way until we reach Belle."

I heard a short laugh, and the musician climbed off of me as he made a show of dusting his hands. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear, bro. I mean, I know I'll regret it as soon as shit starts getting crazy again, but... Count me in. For mi musa."

Turning around to his manager, he lifted his legs and whipped off his contractual undergarments, flinging them into the man's startled lap as he strutted off half-naked to collect his things.

"It's been fun, Sir. I think that if I overstayed my welcome though, you'd have me on brothel duty, and well... I promised my girl that I wouldn't sleep around, ha..."

When he came out of his private cubicle, I was pleased to see that every inch of him was covered, complete with his pink star-shaped sunglasses and signature guitar case slung over his shoulder.

Waving me in front of him, we made our way back through the bar area of Apoca-Bliss to tell Alisha the good news.

Nudging my rear from behind, I could practically feel Tomás' familiar cheesy grin hitting the back of my head. "So Dan... What did you think of my show? Not bad for a beginner, eh?"

"Y-Yeah, let's not talk about that... ever again. All I'll say is that Belle... she's a lucky girl."

We'd reached the front of the club beside the bar area, but something was different this time around. Two rather-large men were pushing their way through the disgruntled customers, hassling the management until their eyes landed upon us.

"There he is!! The dark one, I told you he was here... H-Hey, it's other kid, too!" Steadying myself, I couldn't be sure that they meant us until they stormed closer, holding up a tattered piece of paper for guidance.

 I'd seen similar ones lying by the roadside several times before, but never in someone's possession. I swallowed the lump growing in my throat, but it spawned back almost instantly. Our portraits stared back at us from the held leaflet, threatening to out us right here.

*** WANTED

BY THE TELOS INSTITUTE

 "Not here, shit..." I breathed. Darting my eyes around, I wanted to make sure that no one else could see our blurry-yet-recognisable faces that were printed with nothing but malicious intent in mind.

It seemed as though Tomás hadn't come across the poster before, as his one eye widened in disbelief before giving me a double-take in complete terror. Returning his gaze, he silently mouthed each of our names that had been twisted into some kind of old Western joke. I wasn't laughing, though... No one was.

 MEMBERS OF THE BIOTERRORIST CELL 'APOLLYON':

['THE BLESSING']

['DEAD MAN' DANIEL]

['BLACK BLOOD' HARRY]

[BETHANY 'DEVIL CHILD' BOUDICA]

[THOMAS 'THE TERRIBLE']

RETURN ALIVE TO YOUR NEAREST TELOS BRANCH FOR PAYMENT ($300,000 PER HEAD) ***

Sgt. Riles of the Telos Military Division had come through on his promise to make us suffer... The bar full of bandits and perverts were staring at us, falling victim to the wool that the institute was pulling over their eyes.

Raising a barrage of guns and weapons, the exit was promptly closed off as the clamoring crowd began to recognise us for who we supposedly were. Members of the 'organisation' that every survivor would eventually strive to uncover, if only to have someone to blame for their quality of life in such desperate times.

I couldn't blame the bounty hunters, because we'd been seeking vengeance all along as well, albeit against the real enemy. We were no different than the army of survivors in front of us.

Telos had handed us to the starved remaining population on a silver platter, a worthy distraction in their stead.

"It's them... those 'Apollyon' fuckers, the ones who turned everything to shit!! Don't let them escape!"