secretly, he'd hoped they would reveal more about his past. He was sure that the memories were all still there...he just didn't have access to them. And that was true, it had to be, because what was he going to do otherwise?
The shower turned off, and a few moments later Kyra emerged, looking much more put together and refreshed. The pair navigated their way out of the dormitories and back into the familiar rain. Not wanting to be drenched again, Greg hurried to follow Kyra, who seemed to be heading toward the comms building.
He surveyed the camp as he went, remembering Kyra's tale of how zombies just started wandering in from the wastelands. They remained isolated, the only living things around, at least as far as he could tell. Greg wondered if he could even count those things among the living. What nature of zombie was this? What had caused it? Something in the soil? Some toxic spill? Some freak accident? Or something darker and more cliché? A government or military experiment? Some kind of big test? Well, the place was isolated enough for it.
“ We're going to eat first, and then we'll start clearing out the base. You don't mind scrubbing the deck and hauling bodies do you?” Kyra asked as they stepped into the mess hall.
“ Well, I'm not sure how I felt about it before, but I don't really care now. Honestly, the idea is kind of appealing. It'd be nice to have something to do.”
They raided the kitchen area, heating up sealed packages of food, heavy on nutrients, light on taste. Greg remembered that from before. The package contained corn, mashed potatoes and a slice of what was referred to as beef. He found some milk in a plastic jug to go along with it. He and Kyra sat across from each other at the long, cafeteria-style table and ate in silence for the first few moments. Despite its blandness, the food seemed delicious.
“ So, what can you tell me about the planet we're on?” Greg asked.
Kyra seemed startled, yanked away from whatever dark thoughts had taken up residence in her mind.
“Well, it's called Dis. Most of it is mountainous, a lot like the wastelands you see now. There are some heavily forested areas I think, and half the planet is ocean, but it’s mostly just rock. It was primarily a mining world, but some industrial corporations decided it would be easier to just set up the building yards near the resources instead of having to ship the resources and, well, the planet's population began to grow from there.”
Kyra stopped talking, her head snapped toward the door, hand reaching for her pistol on the table next to her meal. Greg twisted around to see what she looked at, but saw nothing. He turned back to face her.
“Thought I heard something.” She went back to eating. After a long moment, she continued to talk.
“ The region we're in is real wasteland territory. You'll be lucky to get one outpost every fifty miles. There are a lot of do-nothing, backwater jobs in places like this. Communications relays, radar facilities, storage complexes, the occasional military outpost. Most of the places out here are mining operations. I ran tech support at a radar facility. Boring work...”
Kyra paused, appearing to lose herself in memories. She stood, suddenly, and took her now empty food tray to the kitchen. She returned a moment later, this time holding a can of soda, its exterior frosted with moisture. Greg recognized it, from the black and silver art to the gold Vex scrawled across the front. Instantly, he knew what it tasted like. To say the experience was strange would be an understatement.
“You said, last time, that the zombies came, there was some disagreement...then what happened?”
Kyra heaved a big sigh, slamming the can down on the table.
“A whole lot of dicking around, that's what...when I think about all the time we wasted, what we could have been doing...no one knew what to do. Our commander was given his job out in the middle of nowhere because of what a big idiot he was.
The shower turned off, and a few moments later Kyra emerged, looking much more put together and refreshed. The pair navigated their way out of the dormitories and back into the familiar rain. Not wanting to be drenched again, Greg hurried to follow Kyra, who seemed to be heading toward the comms building.
He surveyed the camp as he went, remembering Kyra's tale of how zombies just started wandering in from the wastelands. They remained isolated, the only living things around, at least as far as he could tell. Greg wondered if he could even count those things among the living. What nature of zombie was this? What had caused it? Something in the soil? Some toxic spill? Some freak accident? Or something darker and more cliché? A government or military experiment? Some kind of big test? Well, the place was isolated enough for it.
“ We're going to eat first, and then we'll start clearing out the base. You don't mind scrubbing the deck and hauling bodies do you?” Kyra asked as they stepped into the mess hall.
“ Well, I'm not sure how I felt about it before, but I don't really care now. Honestly, the idea is kind of appealing. It'd be nice to have something to do.”
They raided the kitchen area, heating up sealed packages of food, heavy on nutrients, light on taste. Greg remembered that from before. The package contained corn, mashed potatoes and a slice of what was referred to as beef. He found some milk in a plastic jug to go along with it. He and Kyra sat across from each other at the long, cafeteria-style table and ate in silence for the first few moments. Despite its blandness, the food seemed delicious.
“ So, what can you tell me about the planet we're on?” Greg asked.
Kyra seemed startled, yanked away from whatever dark thoughts had taken up residence in her mind.
“Well, it's called Dis. Most of it is mountainous, a lot like the wastelands you see now. There are some heavily forested areas I think, and half the planet is ocean, but it’s mostly just rock. It was primarily a mining world, but some industrial corporations decided it would be easier to just set up the building yards near the resources instead of having to ship the resources and, well, the planet's population began to grow from there.”
Kyra stopped talking, her head snapped toward the door, hand reaching for her pistol on the table next to her meal. Greg twisted around to see what she looked at, but saw nothing. He turned back to face her.
“Thought I heard something.” She went back to eating. After a long moment, she continued to talk.
“ The region we're in is real wasteland territory. You'll be lucky to get one outpost every fifty miles. There are a lot of do-nothing, backwater jobs in places like this. Communications relays, radar facilities, storage complexes, the occasional military outpost. Most of the places out here are mining operations. I ran tech support at a radar facility. Boring work...”
Kyra paused, appearing to lose herself in memories. She stood, suddenly, and took her now empty food tray to the kitchen. She returned a moment later, this time holding a can of soda, its exterior frosted with moisture. Greg recognized it, from the black and silver art to the gold Vex scrawled across the front. Instantly, he knew what it tasted like. To say the experience was strange would be an understatement.
“You said, last time, that the zombies came, there was some disagreement...then what happened?”
Kyra heaved a big sigh, slamming the can down on the table.
“A whole lot of dicking around, that's what...when I think about all the time we wasted, what we could have been doing...no one knew what to do. Our commander was given his job out in the middle of nowhere because of what a big idiot he was.
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