"Not Your Average Reaper" (Nature)

=Chapter 9: Not Your Average Reaper= Annabelle ran through the trees as fast as she could. She passed across several roads and other open spaces as well. At an instant, she paused. She could hear something coming towards her. She looked up, there was a Reaper flying towards her – But with Sonia nowhere nearby and with Roger now dead, who exactly was flying the drone?

Wasting no time, Annabelle ran even faster than before, darting into the cover of the trees once again. She tripped up on a branch, using her fall as an opportunity to catch her breath. With the Reaper flying overhead now, she opted to remain still, waiting for it to pass. However, it sounded as though it was circling the area of trees she was hiding in…

“Go away, go away,” She mumbled to herself, forcing her eyes shut out of fear. The sound became louder, as the drone lowered itself down through the trees. Annabelle took several deep breaths, calming herself. Then, she made a break for it.

Sprinting as fast as she could, she weaved through the trees, hearing the drone matching her pace overhead. She finally reached the edge of the trees, and ran out of back onto the main road. Turning around, she reached for her revolver, feeling as though she had nothing to lose. She fired off several shots at the drone, but they were merely reflected off of it. She fired all six shots at it, then the barrel clicked on her. She tossed it aside, but then remember the sentimental value of it. She risked her life to reclaim the revolver, “Sorry ‘Liv,” she mumbled to the weapon, before running up the road, using the trees as slight cover.

The drone began firing down on her, as she dodged in and out of the trees, narrowly missing the shots.

On top of a cliff, there were two camo-dressed men. One was holding a remote control, piloting the Reaper. The other had his hands behind his back, as well as a three-star badge on his chest. “Keep trying,” the man was British, with a deep and intimidating voice.

From behind him, another soldier approached, “Major Anderson, sir.” The soldier saluted to him. “What is it Corporal?” He sounded uninterested. “It’s Princess Moriah sir… She’s been captured.” Now, Anderson’s eyes widened, “Get on to Lieutenant Simon right now! I want to find out what happened!”

But the soldier shrugged, “I’m sorry sir, I’ve tried the Lieutenant as well. He’s not responding either.” Anderson tightened his fists, “Princess Moriah must be found… We can’t let our Human-Reaper hybrid fall into the hands of anyone else… Use the override command!” He ordered the corporal, as he saluted, before running back to the military truck.

Annabelle ran out of energy to run, collapsing to the ground. She had been running so fast that she hadn’t even noticed the Reaper was no longer chasing her. She looked around, but saw no sign of it anywhere – Nor could she see anyone who may have potentially been piloting it. Regardless, she spent several more seconds catching her breath, before running off in case the Reaper came back.

“Corporal Hughes, anything?” The Major hopped in the back of the truck, watching as Hughes fiddled with the radios. “Nothing sir. No Simon, No Moriah…” He swallowed hard. Anderson leant out the back of the truck again, noticing the Reaper pilot had landed the drone back on the cliff. “Cassidy! Get your ass over here!” He ordered, as Cassidy scooped up the drone, running over. “On the double man!” It was clear Anderson’s military mind was more intact than the world itself.

“Major Anderson, sir! How may I help, sir?” He stood to attention. “I’m getting rather impatient, Private… Think you could trace down Princess Moriah and Lt. Simon?” Cassidy wasn’t entirely sure, but feared for his own safety, “Y-yes… Yes, sir!” He saluted. Anderson nodded, grinning cunningly. He shifted over to Corporal Hughes, patting him on the back, “Corporal Hughes, thank you for your service,” With those words, he quickly placed his hands over Hughes’ head, twisting it ferociously – his neck snapped, as his corpse fell to the ground.

Anderson turned back to Cassidy, who looked terrified. “Enjoy your new promotion, Corporal Cassidy… Let’s hope your better than the last…” He gravely told him in a low voice, “Now come on, let’s get going.”

Corporal Cassidy bashed on the side of the truck, hopping in as it pulled away.

As Annabelle continued to walk the road she was on, she heard a deep sound in the distance – but it was no Reaper; it sounded far more like a truck or a lorry. Suspecting it may have something to do with the flyer of the Reaper, she ran back towards the sound, gripping her knife as she did so.

She ran, and she, and she ran, but she couldn’t make it all the way back to the source of the noise, as it faded off into the distance.

Several hours later, darkness was beginning to fall. She made herself a bed of sticks – She had completely no idea which way it was back to Camp Hackley now.

Along the road, she heard several voices, low mumbling. Instantly, she gripped her revolver despite having no ammo in the barrel. In an instant, she hoisted herself, producing her knife.

Quietly, she edged towards the road, noticing a group of survivors walking past – the darkness hid their faces however, though it appeared that the front man was holding a shotgun. She took a deep breath – something she was doing a lot of today – And jumped out onto the road, raising her revolver as a bluff.

“Put your hands up! Don’t try anything!” She commanded them, but much to her surprise, they all looked at each other. The front man stepped closer to Annabelle. She began to recognise the shotgun model he was holding, as well as his facial structure.

“Darling, I once used this shotgun to save your life. Am I gonna have to take it now as well?” His voice was easily distinguishable – it was Tobin. At an instant, he smacked the revolver out of Annabelle’s hands. She rushed down to collect, but Tobin pulled her back, arm-locking her, “I don’t think so missy!” She tried to resist his capture, but she was too strong.

“Jesus man! Look at her! She’s a weakling! You’re hurting her!” Bertie stood up. Tobin looked him up and down, “Please. This bitch is far from weak. If anything, this is hurting me more than it’s hurting her, and it’s not even hurting me at all.” He restrained her even more tightly. Annabelle watched as Kristina walked around in front of her. She headed towards the ditch on the side of the road, picking up the revolver, “Damn barrel is empty… She was bluffing the entire time!” She informed the others, as they all lowered their weapons.

Another woman walked around, stepping in front of Annabelle – it was Ellie. “Well, well, well… Looks like we finally get to meet at last,” Although they had been near each other before, Annabelle and Ellie had never made any direct contact with each other.

“One thing is for sure,” Ellie began to tease her, “This town ain’t big enough for the two of us…” She pulled up her handgun, pressing it to Annabelle’s temple – but she showed no sign of fear.

“Go on, do it,” Kristina requested, looking Annabelle dead in the eyes. “Whenever you have a gun to someone’s head, it’s better to shoot first, and ask the questions later.” She was referencing their first encounter, to when Annabelle held a revolver against Bertie.

Annabelle screwed up her face at Ellie, as she merely laughed back at her. “I had a feeling you’d be funny, but this… That face! Oh, this is too funny!” She swooped right in front of Annabelle’s face, keeping the revolver firmly pressed against her head. “I’m sure you’ll find this funny as well then,” She spat deeply at Ellie, foam and saliva coating her face. “You… You’re going to regret doing that…” She gritted her teeth at her. Tobin released Annabelle from his grip, pushing her to the ground.

“Enough! You do not kill someone like that.” He kept Annabelle pinned, but looked over to his own daughter. “Dad, are you being serious right now? This bitch just spat in my face! Not to mention, she robbed us once before with those two immigrant bastards!” Her racist side came through.

“Ellie!” Tobin shouted at her, “What have I told you about making comments like that? Even in the apocalypse, it can get you killed! Imagine if you said something about black people… I wouldn’t blame James and Gisela for killing you for that!”

Both James and Gisela looked uncomfortable with the argument between Tobin and Ellie. “The difference is, I like James and Gisela! I don’t have a problem with colour! I just have a problem with background… Think about it, her two friends robbed us! Bet nothing’s changed for them since from before the apocalypse…”

Tobin shook his head, and ended their argument, returning to the far more pressing topic. “Annabelle is a capable survivor… Regardless of what happened to Vanessa and Miguel,” he remembered their names, “They just wanted our stories and our supplies. They didn’t want to kill us. Annabelle is brave to disrespect those she once had no ill-will towards. I respect that, which is why we won’t kill her. She’s get one more chance, ok?”

Ellie was fully opposed to this suggestion, “Um… No? The biggest mistake in the apocalypse is just like what Kristina said, not killing someone when you have the chance. This is exactly why!” She pointed to Annabelle intensely, “You come across the exact same person again, except they turn out to be far less merciful! Dad, if you don’t kill her, then I will. Now, who here agrees with that idea?” She threw her hands up, looking around.

“I do,” Kristina was already supportive of this idea before it was proposed. Ellie glanced over at Gisela, James and Emilia. “Yea… Alright then…” Emilia stepped forward as well, pulling out her handgun. Tobin stood in the way, “Stop this! It’s not a democracy! The decision’s been made already!”

But Ellie wasn’t listening to him, “Gisela? James? Come on, don’t you two love each other? You realise that, if you don’t kill this bitch now, she will come back for us one day… She will kill at least one of you… Leaving the other to emotionally die out. You really wanna risk that?” She pretended to look confused in order to persuade them.

They both looked guiltily at each other, “We kill people who deserve it...” James said, as Ellie’s face lit up. “…But that’s different to murdering someone who’s just trying to survive,” he concluded.

“Oh, you know what, screw this,” Ellie spun back around, whipping out her pistol, aiming it at Gisela. “Listen here, you put your vote forward, and we’ll kill Annabelle right now – We’ll end this. If you don’t join me, I’ll kill your wife. Simple as.” She sounded genuine, prompting James to switch immediately, “Alright, alright… You win.”

Annabelle turned back around, but while she was debating, Annabelle had disappeared, as had Bertie. Tobin remained crouched down. “Dad… Tell me you didn’t just… Did you really just let her go?” She sounded infuriated. Tobin looked up at her, with tears in his eyes.

“You do what you have to. But just remember, my daughter died with the apocalypse. You are just some ‘Ellie’…” Tears rolled out from both of their eyes, as Ellie turned her gun on the father that had just disowned her.

Her hands were shaky, but she was unwilling to let a remark like that go unnoticed – it had ruined their connection forever…

“Come on, according to Tobin’s map, Camp Hackley is just a few miles from here,” Bertie assisted Annabelle through the trees.

“Wait,” she stopped them, “I don’t get it… I held a revolver to your temple, why are you helping me?” It made no sense to her.

“It’s not about the past, Annabelle. It’s about the present… If we punished people for things that happened on a different day, goodness knows I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I respect that. But what Tobin and his group are like… It’s wrong. They’ve corrupted Kristina. I’ve seen this before; evil minds think alike. I don’t know what’s going on at Camp Leroy, and quite frankly I don’t want to. I’ll help you find your brother even after all this, I just want a safe place to call home. Can you give me that?” He gave his reason.

In an instant, Annabelle nodded at him jovially, “Of course! Camp Hackley is a welcoming place. Could do with an extra pair of hands to… Thank you for forgiving me, Bertie.” They exchanged warm smiles, before continuing to run through the trees towards Camp Hackley…

-The title is a play on words of "Not Your Average Joe".