Under a Very Black Sky

Under a Very Black Sky is an Alternate Universe story set in the Doom-Verse.

Chapter 1
One thing I do like about the world I live in is that there are no useless people. I'm sitting on the porch of a cabin, alongside a few of the adult campers. One of them is telling a story to a group of kids, telling them about the world before the war. If I'm to be honest, it sounds like it sucked. He's going on and on about something called a selfie, which, from what I understand, is when people stand in front of a mirror and take a picture of themselves in it. It sounds like the dumbest thing in the world. I sit up from my chair, say goodbye, and walk down the steps into the camp.

Camp is a relative term. It is a walled off variation of a resort town, with walls all around the main roads to the highways and the perimeter. We also don't have cabins, like the original Camp Half-Blood used to. Now we have houses, and we live in the housing of the town. After the war between the immortals and humanity, the rockies were one of the lucky areas to have not been razed in the final days of the war. I return to the hotel that serves as a headquarters of sorts, somewhere the older campers and counselors go to sleep if they want. It has what I was told is called a hot tub on the roof, which, following the brilliance of a few children of Poseidon, was repaired and is actually hot.

I find my room, which overlooks the whole camp, and I crash down on the bed. I have two hours to nap, something I immediately jump on. Something about this world, if you have a chance to eat, eat. If you have a chance to sleep, sleep. It only takes me about seven minutes to drift away into the realm of sleep. An unfortunate part of this world, sleep goes hand in hand with nightmares.

''One. Two. Three. Four. Five. I count the times the hanging slab of meat sways across the light from the ceiling. Once it hits ten, I roll to my feet and over to one of the meat slabs on a cart. It looks like a leg of some sort, with a bone sticking out one end. I turn around and cut the wires that bind my wrists on the bone. Once I'm free, I free my teammate, Josie, and we pound on the door. Almost immediately, the door swings open, a guard storming in with what looks like a pair of scissors glued to a stick. He swings at Josie, but she ducks under his attack and kicks him once in the side of the thigh, right on the nerve ending. He crumples to one knee, and I slam mine into his orbital bone, knocking him out. Josie takes his scissors and slits his throat.''

''We leave through the open door quickly and make our way outside. "Down." Josie immediately says and shoves me behind a broken down van. I roll underneath it and the older girl follows me. Josie points and I see why she shoved me down. The others are lined up on their knees, several guards facing them from behind, armed with pistols.''

''"Dad." I whisper. My father is among them, on his knees in front of the makeshift barn. Josie immediately grabs one shoulder and clasps a hand around my mouth. Smart move on her, otherwise my scream would have been heard as they callously put a bullet in my father's head.''

I jolt awake to the feeling of someone grasping my arm. "You alright?" Carl asks me.

"Dammit, Carl." I say, sitting up. "You keep sneaking into rooms when you need people and one day somebody will freak out and kill you." Carl is one of the forgers, a son of Hephaestus who keeps everything intact and running smoothly. From weapons to wall maintenance, they do everything. They're also notoriously irritable, as they get the least sleep out of all of us.

"You didn't answer my question." He replies. "You were muttering and convulsing in your sleep."

"No." I shoot back. "I had that dream again."

"I'm sorry." He says, nodding. "Listen, you're not going out for another week or so, and we've had some injuries in the last few days, so we're short staffed. Would you be willing to come help out?"

"Yeah, sure. Just get out of my room so I can change into forge gear." I grumble. He climbs out my window and jumps down. I sigh and change into the old prison jumpsuit we use in the forges. I walk down to the forge, tying my hair back as I go. It is absolutely chaotic once I get there. They are so annoyingly behind on repairs and weapon orders that I get stuck working there for the rest of the day, working at a frantic pace to get all of the things they need today done. It takes about four hours for us to get caught up. Carl dismisses me and I change in the forge bathroom. As I step out of the change room, the PA system buzzes.

''Zoe Johnson, make your way to gate six. Bring your weapons.'' I frown. Being told to bring weapons normally means that someone is going wrong. I grab my dagger, katana, and crossbow from the army and run to the gate. I meet Chiron, the Camp Director.

"Zoe." He said, nodding to me as I arrive. "We received a distress signal down the roads, brief and full of static, but it was definitely from a demigod."

"I thought we were the last." I reply skeptically.

"Not necessarily. Take a car and run out to look. If you don't find anything within five miles, assume they died and there's nothing you can do. Don't take unnecessary risks." He orders. I nod and jump into one of the cars. Chiron opens the gate and I drive out, speeding down the road, looking for new people. Stories from before the war say that there used to be hundreds of cars on roads at once, and it would take people hours and even days to get from place to place. It sounds like it would be absolute torture. As I drive, I notice, out of the corner of my eye, movement on the horizon. I pull over to the side of the road and roll down my window. I grab my crossbow and look down the scope.

"Crap." I mutter. I can see a group of four running on foot. Three young men and a young blonde woman. What they are running from concerns me. Down the hill after them is a dune buggy, modified to have blades and saws on the sides and front, with two men hanging off the side of it, holding assault rifles. Two more buggies come over the hill and down towards the group. I return my gaze to the group and see that they're heading for an old hunting lodge. I grab the wheel and start driving for the side road towards them, remembering what my father told me about the men chasing them.

"They're called Bulls. They're a group from the prairies that survived the massive sandstorm that hit Saskatchewan two years after you were born." He told me. "They've deteriorated into psychos and crazies, half suicidal in their missions. No one knows what they do to their prisoners, because as far as we know, they don't take any." I remember asking why they were called bulls. "Because all their helmets have horns of some kind."

By the time I make it to the lodge, the group has fled inside the the Bulls are either chasing after them or patrolling outside. I park a couple hundred meters away and jump out of the truck, taking all my weapons with me. "Another thing about Bulls, Zoe. Kill them all. Otherwise they never stop coming for you." My father's voice says in my head. It is not a piece of advice I plan to ignore. I hide in the shrubbery outside of the store and do a quick head count. Four Bulls wandering around outside. One of them, I swear, has a buzz saw on a stick as a weapon. Two machetes and an AK-47 are the other weapons. I take aim with my crossbow, aiming for the back of the Bull with the rifle.

I squeeze the trigger and he falls, clutching at his chest briefly and crying out in pain. I sling my crossbow over my back and draw my katana. There's no time to reload now. I run forward, quietly moving for the Bulls as they move to investigate their fallen comrade. Something I've always found remarkable about them is that they don't really care about their dead. The dead are just a mild inconvenience for them. I slash once, my blade connecting with the back of a Bull's head. I can't wrench it out, so I draw my hunting knife and keep stepping forward, stabbing once into the back of the third's neck. I step away from the fourth, Buzz saw guy, and wrench my sword out of the dead Bull's head.

He roars once and runs at me, a berserk frenzy that is child's play to counter. I step aside once and stab at the same time, catching him in the throat. I twist so I can slash his jugular on the way out. There's no taking chances with these people. I clean and sheath the sword before picking up his AK. I take aim and head into the lodge. I'm greeted by a flying hatchet, heading towards my head. I duck and roll forward, taking aim and firing instinctively. The Bull drops, but two more appear and fire back. I duck behind a series of shelves and hide, bullets hitting the floor around me, missing only by inches.

I glance up, poking my head out briefly, only to see them take aim and open fire again. I switch hiding places again, bullet holes trailing after me. I lean against a bookshelf, trying to control my breathing. I glance up at the upper level and freeze. Dammit. I think. A young man from the chased group is up there, hiding behind a desk, aiming a pistol down at me. Dammit, this is it.

Nothing happens. Slowly, I hold up two fingers and point to where I saw the Bulls last. He nods and holds up four fingers and points in the same direction. I nod, calming down, and shift around so I can get up to shoot. He holds a book up and makes a gesture as though he is about to throw it. I nod again, and he tosses it. Almost immediately, a hail of bullets hits the area around the book, and footsteps can be heard moving towards it. I aim at the book and wait. The moment two of them come into sight, I fire with three sort bursts and they hit the ground. Two gunshots ring out from the upper level, and two cries of pain can be heard from the other Bulls.

I quickly get up and stab them in the head, just in case. Gurgles can be heard from the other two. I climb up to the upper level and see the Bulls are wounded, but not quite dead. I don't even get my knife out. I stomp twice on their throats before moving on to look for the young man from before. I raise the rifle and walk over to where I saw him. He jumps out, pistol aimed at me. I aim at him and we stand there for a moment in silence. "You send in that call?" I ask eventually.

"Yeah." He replies. He's about six-foot-three, blonde hair and blue eyes. "Demi?"

"Yeah." I reply and lower my rifle. He follows suit and I take a few steps forward. "What are the Bulls doing this far into Alberta?"

"Bulls?" He asks, confused. "Is that what they're called?"

"Where are you from, blondie?" I ask.

"We're coming up from Portland." He said. My eyebrows go up. "Listen, if your people have room for four more, or at the very least, some supplies, we would be indebted to you."

"We can take you in, for a while, at least." I say and hold a hand out. He shakes it. "Zoe Johnson, daughter of Athena."

"Lucian Lohse, son of Phobos." He replies.