This is actually more from the comments below this prompt. But yeah, the Punk knows where it's at!
@internutter/challenge-02848-g291-the-punk-choice
They were a lone wolf. They stockpiled canned foods, tons of ammo, had enough firearms for an army! They had water filters, at least some, and learned how to make soap, how to camp out, all the basics. Their plan? Live on what they could, and when they ran out, take what they wanted. If the people refused to give it, well then a bullet would solve that problem.
The others had a bunker, the others were dead. The plague took 'em, well ain't that something? They left their door open, too! But wait.. there was nothing here. No guns, no ammo, no... food. Only thing they had were seeds. Books, seeds... a few small solar panels and wires, that kind of crap. Some wood piled up, dishes, clothes, a few bars of soap, what in the hell, nothing but those and a nearby stream, with town six days walk away. -- DaniAndShali
It was a huge bunker. It must have cost a lot of money. It even had a visitor's log. It had its own electricity and someone's spotify playlist was playing at background noise levels over the internal PA. It was empty of everyone except the man who called himself Wolf. He was on edge as a direct result. Scouring every chamber for anyone who might provide opposition to his continued survival.
He didn't find anybody until he got to the underground medbay and morgue. They'd all died from the plague. The last survivor had written a note and given themself a fatal dose of something, dying in comfort on their bed.
Dear visitor. We knew we were all going to die. The things in this bunker are not for us, but for a better future. Please employ them for the betterment of the survivors of our grand mistake. Repair this broken world. Complete instructions are in the vault. Wolf rolled his eyes. There was no repairing the world. It was broken for good. All it needed was the rugged individualists[1] to forge a great new nation from the ashes of defeat.
The vault had long-storage MRE's enough to last five hundred people a year. More than enough for him. Past that were a series of small lockers that looked like ammo cases. He checked and found nothing but packets of seed in cold storage. The extensive library was all instruction books on how to farm, how to build, how to make clothing from scratch, how to create sources of power for extant technology that didn't need more fuel than the sun and the wind. It was in every written language known to mankind.
Wolf took all the MRE's he could carry, marking the place on his map for future raids. Then he walked on. This place was made for and by hippie losers who all died. Screw them. He didn't need anyone. He didn't even need to read their stupid books. No tits? Not interested.
When he came back in a year, after sniping out a gun-heavy stronghold for ammo and supplies, there was a small settlement there. Through his scope, he could see it was full of women and children. Going about the grounds and tending to crops. They seemed healthy enough. Maybe he could trade some trophies for some tail. Wolf knew without a doubt that these fragile flowers needed a good man around. Instant harem. Just add... him.
He bundled up his trade trophies and skins and his freshest jerky before he sauntered down to the fence. Not exactly the most secure thing. It would keep out a wolf pack or bears, but it would never keep out an attacking group of bandits.
What Wolf saw as he came out into the open shocked him. Someone in a watchtower rang a bell, and the kids drove flocks of geese towards the fence and gate. Women left their work in the fields to retreat into a building. Others came out with large shields. Some with infants strapped to their bodies. The one in the watchtower calmly readied a sniper rifle. That was for show. The real one to pay attention to was uphill with the solar panels and windmills. Wolf made a show of being peaceful. He didn't know how many other snipers he didn't see.
"I come to trade," he shouted. "Goods for services!"
They had a megaphone. "Step towards us past the yellow flags," said the one in the watchtower. "Then stop."
Ah. So that was what they were for. Yellow, and further up the road, red flags marked the yards. He was now in can't-miss range of the snipers. They had spotters and watchers. He just had himself. These were some crazy bitches for sure. Well, he was just about thirsty enough to stick it into crazy.
The ones who had initially retreated came out in full riot gear. They changed places with the women who had babies strapped to them. It was almost military position. The one with the megaphone said, "Who else is with you?"
"I am alone," he shouted back. "Just me." Only now did he realize that there were no surrounding trees within sniping range. Even if there was someone who could take that kind of shot, they had a tougher time on their hands.
The leader, in full armour, stepped out to just inside the red line. "Come halfway and stop. Show us your wares." She had a gun in hand and ready to bring up, trigger finger on the guard. Crazy wouldn't let him show her his favourite toy. It wasn't worth his life to even offer it. Showing as much respect as possible, he laid out his prizes. Antlers. Horns. Hooves. Bones. Skins. The occasional long-lasting gem from the old world. Things that could come in handy. Gadgets he'd found while scavenging in abandoned buildings. Cables and things too. People always forgot about cables.
The queen of the crazies looked unimpressed, but not to the point of killing him. "What do you want for any of this?"
"Night or two of passion," he said. "Some warm arms in a warm bed."
"You willing to work during your stay?" She still seemed unimpressed, and added, "Assuming any of us want you, that is."
Wolf felt mildly offended. "Why wouldn't you want me? I'm prime alpha material. Strong, healthy, good hunter... I can get to all those hard-to-reach places."
Queen Crazy rolled her eyes. "Fucking hell, not another lone wolf rugged individualist. Let's see your teeth."
"What?"
"Teeth," now the gun came up. "We don't let in anyone too stupid to avoid scurvy. Show us."
Now he was very glad he brushed twice a day and ate whatever fruit he knew was safe. Good teeth were better for surviving longer in the wilderness. You didn't live long if you couldn't chew. Wolf showed his teeth until the gun went back down.
"What skills can you offer besides hunting and foraging?"
He made the mistake of asking, "What else is there?" and got sent off with all his stuff and his tail between his legs. He met up with Dave The Amusing at one of his regular campsites on the game trail. He was reading a book entitled Adulting For Dummies and looking at a sewing kit with evident confusion. There were some other artifacts of arts and crafts surrounding his setup. As Wolf settled down to open an MRE, Dave turned on his headlamp.
"You gonna start wearing makeup too?" asked Wolf.
"Hardy har har," deadpanned Dave. "It's those bitches in Bunker Hill, you know the place. I can see you just got rejected. They want people with useful skills." Tongue stuck out, he carefully applied needle and thread to the fabric in front of him, referring to the diagrams in the book at every other step. "The age of the rugged individualist is dying. Just like them defend the bullets bunker folk. Now it's all community, community, community. Buncha hippie dipshits."
"Hippie dipshits with guns," added Wolf. "Not true pacifists. You'd think they'd want more community members after a while."
"Yeah, but they have a word for the men they pick just to make babies with," said Dave. "They call 'em drones. Like the bees. Useless for everything but breeding stock."
"That why you're working on a sampler, over there?"
"Mending's better than nothing. You know about my grinchy leg. Don't have many more winters in the wild left in me, and I don't want to die in a ditch under some bear or a pack of hungry wolves. I don't want to die out in the wilds because I slipped on the wrong leg and got so busted I couldn't get up again. Our era's ending, Wolf. Get some other skills. They don't need men like you no more."
"They don't know what's good for them," grumbled Wolf. "Crazy bitches."
"They got something you and every other half-baked asshole wants, and they got everything they need in there. Man, what a find. Seeds and everything they could need to build a community. I pity any shithead too stupid to see what a treasure that was. Can you imagine making the choice not to rule over that hill? Yikes."
Wolf stirred his curry and bottled up his own bile. "Yeah. Yikes."
[1] How someone can make a nation of one is beyond me, but this is apparently how some people think.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / zabelin]
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