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012 - Oasis

 
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Amyral

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PostPosted: Wed May 26, 2010 12:14 am    Post subject: 012 - Oasis Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

Somewhere in Arizona - 6 months ago

The town was screaming.

At least, that's what it sounded like to Logan. Shots were fired, raiders were squealing away in their old motorcycles and junkers. A woman had been hit.

The entire scene played out in slow motion in his mind. A half dozen people jumped up to fire back, no one ran to help the woman. No one but Logan.

It had been like this every day he had been in the desert. Those who could leave left shortly after the war. Those who couldn't find the only safe places to be small villages where they could hide anytime the raiders ran through. The raiders took over the remains of the desert cities, only riding to the outskirts to grab workers or supplies.

That's what had happened today. He had stopped at the town for a rest, but found himself caught in the middle of the raid. Someone in the town fired shots at the raiders. The raiders sprayed the town themselves.

As they rode out, Logan rushed toward the woman who had been shot. "She's been shot! Where's your medical clinic?" He yelled, his voice somehow carrying through the chaos.

"Ain't got one!" One of the men, a bartender, replied hectically.

Logan began to curse. "First aid kit? Something?!" He yelled after a short string.

The bartender shook his head and Logan began to tear her shirt.

The bullet hit her sternum... possibly fractured. Need to control the bleeding, don't elevate her legs, she's still breathing.

He took a deep breath and threw off his jacket, beginning to tear his shirt into strips. He looked up at the bartender. "Get me some damn hot water then! And quite firing those damn guns, the raiders are gone!"

The bartender hurried off to get some water while Logan began to put pressure on the wound.

Have to stabilize her... can't tell how severe this is, could have internal bleeding. Dammit, I can't work like this...

He needed to check her for internal injuries, he didn't have much time...

The bartender brought the water and Logan began to bark orders. He did his best to patch up the wound but in this situation... it didn't look good.

It wasn't successful. It was the first patient Logan had ever lost...

The bartender put another mug in front of him. Logan didn't say a word, didn't even look up, as he took it. The bartender let out a sigh and leaned over. "Look, it wasn't your fault. Raiders shot her, you did your best."

"No, I didn't..." He said, looking up. His expression was somewhere between anger and desperation. "Why don't you have any medical facility here?"

The man shrugged. "Sorry, ain't no doctors been here since the war. Those that didn't catch the plague left soon as it was over. No doctor anywhere in this desert, unless the raiders have someone up in Phoenix. If we had any here, they'd probably take 'em sooner or later."

Logan shook his head. How many towns had he seen just like this? "So no one here is even learning? What do you guys do all the time?"

"Mostly re-arm, we got a few crack shots here, so we prepare for the raiders and rebuild, maybe scavenge a bit."

"That can't be all you want, can it?"

"I'd love a mansion and a recliner, but out here? It's hard, but this our home. Many of us swore we'd stay in the desert come hell or high water. Hell came, and we stood by our word."

"Can't you do anything to stop the raiders?" Logan asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Like what? There's ain't exactly a lot of us here and you're not the first to think of doing something. But they got the numbers and the guns."

Logan looked up letting out a sigh. Was it his place? Was it his responsibility to come up with a plan? No... he was a runner, he had a purpose, he had to keep the swords away from Jet. At first, he could tell Akigiyama was on his tail, although lately he hadn't seen any sign... did he really need to run anymore? How many resources would they really put toward tracking him?

"How often do the raiders come around?" Logan asked, rubbing his temples.

"Once a month, usually. We usually just hole up and let them take what they want... we don't have much for them to take," The bartender responded.

"Perhaps we could make their journey through here more trouble than it's worth?" Logan suggested.

"We? There is no we here, kid. We're no heroes, we're just tryin' to get by."

Logan glanced up. "So trying to get by is letting yourself get terrorized? Letting yourself get robbed and picked off?"

The bartender nodded. "Pretty much. Listen, Doc, life sucks out here. It sucks hard, it's all we can do to build a home and get food and water. Unless we get one of those Freedom Fighters down here, we aren't in any place to fight them."

Logan finished the beer and looked around. Dust coated everything in the room. Those who were in the bar had their heads down. Things were rougher, rougher here than Louisiana or Ohio. He looked up at the bartender and nodded.

"You don't need a Freedom Fighter. If you're willing to let me... I'd like to try."

The bartender shrugged. "Knock yourself out, Doc, but don't expect us to be forgiving if you bring the raiders down on us."

Logan nodded and looked outside. It'd be a challenge, but he was tired of running.

6 months later

The town had a new name now. They called it Oasis, a fitting name for the town that had been transformed in that six month stretch. That first month was tense, no one trusted Logan, but Logan had developed something of a mind for strategy in his time at One Nation and it had worked well.

Now large metal walls surrounded oasis, made from sheet metal salvaged from an old factory that had long sense been stripped of everything else useful. The raiders avoided Oasis and word began to spread about the desert. The population had grown some and more people were moving in.

Logan, he wasn't running anymore. He spent his days with the others, working on a wide variety of projects. They had built several wells to tap into otherwise dormant aquifers. There was a fairly impressive, in wasteland terms of course, collection of houses made from adobe and anything that could be salvaged. A group of town members had a grand list of projects that included basics as a communal garden to pipe dreams such as solar farms, and Logan was more than happy to help any projects they had decided.

At night, though, that was what he was really proud of. What the bartender, who now helped run the down, said long ago really disturbed Logan. It was one thing he had noticed ever since he left Patrick. There were almost no doctors in the country anymore, and none in the desert. He and other members of the town taught, anything they had learned. They wanted to spread useful knowledge, so everyone in the town shared anything they knew.

It wasn't a perfect existence, but Oasis had one thing that was scarce in the desert, safety.

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NDR - There will be a flashback or two in the future related to this, namely to what had happened in the conflict, but I just wanted to establish the status quo for him at this point without writing a fricken novel. Anyone who wishes, feel free to use Oasis.
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