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NECROPOLIS
''His feet dragged along the road, the base of his once fine leather shoes worn through from endless trudging down the sun baked highway. The painful glint of sun reflecting upon glass forced him to shield his eyes, and a wave of relief and trepidation covered him at the growing sight of the dust-caked gas station, he heard no sound of rotted limbs shambling mindlessly in the dirt he had to force himself not to rush forward into the sweet shade of the gas stations over hang. A soft sigh escaped chapped and blistered lips as he lumbered into the shadow of the building and he let his pained fingers release their grasp upon the heavy briefcase. It thudded to the dirt covered concrete with a whump of dust, its cracking leather exterior belieing the importance within.''

''For the first time in days he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the windows, his once strong full face sunken from the tribulations of the road, his over coat torn and aged. A slight twinge of dismay over came him as he saw the lapels of his jacket and the exposed areas of his pants had become sun bleached and aged. He took a moment, a small concession to vanity to wipe the grime of the journey from his face and run his fingers through his almost shoulder length hair. He turned to move within the building and blanched, his almost scarlet skin would have paled if it could before a morbid humor began to over take him at the sight of red paint smeared across the top of the dilapidated structures door.''

"LAST REST STOP 'TILL HELL"

''He pressed his hand against the warped wood of the chicken mesh door, he sucked in air trying to remain quiet as he pushed open the door with over worked painful muscles and his heart skipped a beat as the door came away from broken rusted hinges. He was not quick enough to stop it from crashing to the ground in a loud clatter of rusted mesh and splintering wood. He froze in abject terror preparing for the shuffling feet and scraping of jagged bone... But... Nothing save for a soft strange buzzing.''

''His teeth bit down against his own grit covered nail as he stared into the depths of the gas station, he let out an almost internal grunt and shook his hand before he marched into the building, his thirst overcoming caution he hated to leave the brief case but he was sure it would be safe in the dirt looking like any other luggage. It was an old place, even before the end of the world it would have been considered obsolete, he ran his hand along the rough wooden surface of the counter, making waving patterns within the dirt. He moved behind the counter and lent over a rusted sink, it took more force to turn on the tap then he would have thought and after a groan of protestation from the pipes a stream of clean clear water began to pour from the almost orange rust mouth of the tap.''

''He drank deep, too deep forgetting anything he had learnt at that one week of "survival training" they had done as team building exercise. His head swam with the flux of water and hours of heat beating down upon him. After a moment it passed and perhaps it was just his mind but he began to feel better, he dug about in the counters, his weariness making it more of an ordeal then a joyous occasion, he pocketed a still plastic wrapped packet of cigarettes, a surge of happiness overcame him finding a can of soda, his favorite brand, cracked fingernails levered the metal tab up and a satisfying snap echoed out before he began to guzzle the carbonated beverage.''

''The can dropped to the ground empty with a soft clatter a moment later and he had to suppress a surge of guilt at the rapid waste of the drink, its taste already fleeing his mouth. His aching eyes swept across the building, catching upon the small almost diminutive safe squirreled away amongst the owners knickknacks and affairs. A cheap model, he had almost purchased one the same before Beth had talked him out of it, and he took it from the shelf, his fingers released dropping the metal box to the floor with a loud bang! Its hatch popping open, the tinkle of brass casings flowing from within.''

''He dragged out from the box a heavy revolver, larger than any pistol he had wielded before and he had no idea how he could use it, but desperate times and all that. He snapped out the cylinder of the heavy steel firearm and slid a thick brass round into each hole. Then pressed the cylinder back with a satisfying snap, he was armed now, even if the gun might be more then he could handle it gave him a sense of comfort and security he had not had since his autofed pistol had jammed weeks ago. He tucked the gun down the front of his sun damaged slacks and after a moment of thought he removed the barrel from before his sensitive anatomy and tucked it in the rear of his pants behind his jacket.''

''The buzzing began to bother him, it continued incessantly as he ransacked the building. Now however he was armed and feeling brave, he moved towards the grime stained door to the employees toilet. With a deep inhale of air to steady his nerves he kicked the door hard and splintered the lock, the door was water damaged and as it swung open a warm cloud of stench swept across his face, his flesh crawled and turned clammy, his heart fluttered at the realization of the source of the buzzing. A black zephyr lifted from the floor and broke apart into a thousand flies that revealed the source. A figure lay prone upon the floor.''

''The corpse of the stations owner lay rotted against the floor he once trod upon for years at a time. The flesh was rent and torn, and had sloughed over time being stripped away the ravages of the area. He turned from the sight and vomited, the water and the soda splashing to the ground in a puddle. He tried to slow his breathing, damn his complacency! He had seen worse than this but it had been weeks... He forced himself to turn and examine the body, once clad in overalls, heavy work boots and gloves.''

''The sun had begun to dip when he left the building, scooping up the briefcase as he began trudging down the road once more to his final destination, he was almost comforted by the cases cracked leather surface. He looked to the large sign he began to pass.''

"Welcome to Carthage NECROPOLIS"

The last sound his heavy work boots upon the road.