Author's Notes: Great people of this site, it is with great honor that I announce my triumphant return to writing! I told you I'd be back in spring, and I kept my promise. Thanks to the overwhelming praise my last fanfiction "Brand New Start" got, I've decided to challenge myself and attempt to take my writing to a new level with this story. I hope you guys have recovered from that finale, because you're about to start a journey that will no doubt be another extreme emotional roller coaster. While obviously nothing can compare to what happened in BNS, don't think I won't still find ways to screw with your emotions.

I want to talk about this story. This is an "origins story" for one of the OC characters in Brand New Start. HOWEVER, it is NOT required that you read that story before this. In fact I'd actually suggest reading THIS first if you haven't read Brand New Start, because the people who have read that already know some of the things that will happen in this story. This is merely the background for one of the characters.

There will be a lot of differences between Brand New Start and this. The main difference, and this may lose some people right off the bat, is that Joel and Ellie will NOT appear in this at any point. Their story has been told. I'm exploring the possibilities for stories in other parts of the world the game takes place in. It's going to be a serious challenge to try and create a compelling story with a different set of characters, but it's a challenge I'm up for. If I can pull this off, it will blow BNS out of the water. Another difference is that the writing style will not be the same as Brand New Start. I feel it is much more mature and "professional;" at parts it may not even seem like the same author wrote it, but I assure you it's still me. The themes explored in this story are different than Brand New Start, with the latter focusing more on the themes of family and friendship, and this focusing more on how a person can change through what he or she experiences. The pace will be slower at some parts, but there will definitely be intense action sequences. There will be at least three major battles, and that number is bound go up. The tone will be much more serious, and there won't be any strictly lighthearted chapters like BNS. That's not to say there won't be lighthearted moments, just that they'll be few and far between; really more like comic relief in a generally dark and gloomy story. The chapters will be more "linear" than they were in BNS. Linear isn't the right word, but what I mean is that with BNS, each chapter was more like its own plot with little linking one to the next. While each chapter in this story will have its own plot, they will be direct continuations of the one before. However, there will be time jumps, usually after some major event, because this story is spread out over a period of about a decade. Lastly, the Author's Notes in this will reveal less of what happens in each chapter. In BNS I gave a teaser for the next chapter in each closing note, and I won't do that this time. The opening notes will also be more vague, so that there will be more surprises when you're reading.

People have told me that it can't be a Last Of Us story without Joel or Ellie, so I want to make it very clear that this story IS NOT TO BE TREATED AS A LAST OF US STORY. This is to be treated as its own entity, just set in the world the game created.

Now, at the beginning of Brand New Start I said that it would be the only fic I wrote, but that turned out to be untrue. I won't swear to it, but don't expect another fic from me after this is done.

This first chapter, similar to the game, is a pretty gloomy way to start a story. This is gloomy in a different way though; you'll see what I mean.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Last Of Us. All credit goes to Naughty Dog.

A World Scorned

CH. 1: Fragmentation

Amarillo, Texas certainly was the place to be for any warm-blooded music lover on the night of September 26, 2013. The sounds of dirty, to-the-bone raw rock and roll filled the Drunken Rattler club and concert hall, adding to the already charged atmosphere fueled by alcohol and testosterone. Two thousand people were packed shoulder-to-shoulder in a club to experience music in its most raw form. Their appetites had been whet by the opening acts, and they were finally getting what they had been waiting all night for: the main course.

Leatherclad: A rock and roll group made of four members ranging in age from twenty-four to forty-one. They were leather-wearing, Harley Davidson riding warriors of the road, and their music reflected their passion for riding. Their biker anthems resonated throughout the motorcycle community, and the gritty, unpolished sound of their music garnered them rapid success as up-and-coming giants of rock.

The oldest member of the band was their drummer, "Big" Gus Richards. He was a hulking man, standing six-four and weighing approximately two-hundred and fifty pounds. He was very heavily muscled, but despite his intimidating appearance, he was the member least likely to get involved in a confrontation. He had a shaved head and a thick black beard, adding to his menacing look. A large crucifix hung from a chain around his neck, indicating that he was of Catholic faith. Full sleeve tattoos on each arm depicted scenes from an ancient and eternal battle; angels of heaven at war with demons of hell, fighting throughout all of time to control the fate of humanity. Adding to his array of Christian tattoos was a picture of the Virgin Mary on his chest, a scene depicting the crucifixion of Christ on his back, and several Bible quotes on various places on his body.

There was the band's bass guitar player, Alex Baker. He was the second oldest, at thirty-nine years old, and was the shortest at just five-seven. His brown hair was fairly short, but disheveled, and he had a goatee that was about four inches in length. He was the only member without tattoos of any kind. On his right index finger was a solid gold ring that had a large lion's head with a ruby in its mouth. It was a family heirloom that dated back hundreds of years, and it never left his finger.

Julie Vanderbilt was the band's singer and rhythm guitarist. She was thirty-three years old, and stood between five-eight and five-nine, but her boots pushed her an extra six inches taller. She had naturally platinum blonde hair that was wavy and came down to several inches past her shoulders. She had a smooth but dirty sounding singing voice, and boasted as stereotypical a Tennessee accent as they came. She was also the only non-religious member, but she respected the beliefs of her bandmates. Notable about her on that night was her wardrobe. She was wearing a Stetson hat with metal studs around the brim, denim jeans with fake blood stains, outrageously large platform boots with tall heels, and a leather tube top with many small spikes on the chest that would surely deter any would-be groper.

The youngest member was a man by the name of Jeffrey Lawson, the band's lead guitarist. He stood approximately five feet, ten inches tall, and was skinny but well-sculpted. The light caramel tone of his skin and black hair indicated that he was half Native American, most likely on his mother's side. He had hazel-brown eyes, and long hair that was put back in a ponytail. Despite being in his twenties, he had the face of a twelve year old and not a trace of hair on it, and even still carried a little baby fat, leading to constant teasing from his fellow band members.

They wrapped up the first song of their set, and Julie took the microphone to say a few words to the amped up crowd. "How ya doin', Ama-fuckin'-rillo?!" The crowd of over two-thousand roared back at her, letting her know that they were doing quite well. It was hard to not be in a good mood at a rock show where everybody is drunk and the music is loud. "I hope you're havin' fun, 'cause that's what a rock show's all about, is it not?" Another energized roar filled the concert club. She had total control over everyone in front of her. "In case you weren't payin' attention when you bought the tickets, or are already too wasted to remember, we are Leatherclad from Tennessee." The crowd bellowed out again, albeit not as intensely as before.

"Before we go any further, I'd like to introduce you to the band." She pointed to her left at Alex, and gave him an introduction for the crowd. "To my left, on bass guitar, I'd like you to say hello to Mr. Alex Baker!" The crowd gave him a warm welcome, and he waved to them letting them know it was appreciated.

She turned around to Gus, sitting at the drums behind her. "Behind me here, bangin' on the drums, make some fuckin' noise for Big Gus!" Gus got an equal ovation, and stood up twirling the drum sticks between his fingers, before sitting back down.

The next member to be introduced was Jeffrey. "To my right, on lead guitar, I want you to give it up nice and loud for Mr. Jeffrey Lawson, who-" The crowd erupted into applause again, cutting off Julie's full introduction. She gestured for them to quiet back down so she could share some exciting news of a big milestone for him. "Jeffrey, right before this tour... graduated kindergarten! Give it up for Jeffrey!" The crowd went wild again, and Jeffrey put his hand on his hip and shook his head bashfully at Julie's remark. The teasing over how young he looked was relentless and frequent. The crowd loved it, and their screaming continued until Julie spoke again. "Isn't he precious? He's got the most pinchable cheeks, just like my nephew!" Jeffrey grew more embarrassed as the crowd's applause grew louder. Julie walked over to Jeffrey, who was laughing under his breath because of her teasing. "Come here; let me pinch your cheeks." She reached out to pinch Jeffrey's cheeks, but he turned his head away from her. "Aww, he's shy." The more she made fun of Jeffrey, the louder the cheering from the crowd got. Jeffrey just hoped the jokes at his expense would end so they could get back to the show. "We love ya, Jeffrey."

She walked back to her mic stand and set the microphone back on it, before introducing herself. "And last but not least, singin' real pretty for ya and playin' a little gui-tar, yours truly, Julie Vanderbilt." The crowd gave another thunderous welcome to Julie, who had finished having her fun with Jeffrey. "This is our first ever headlinin' tour in our four years of bein' Leatherclad, and it's been a mindblowin' experience for all of us. None of this woulda happened without awesome motherfuckers like y'all!" Her recognition and appreciation of the fans' support was met with another resounding roar from the crowd. "We've got a very special set prepared for y'all tonight, since this is the last show of this tour, so we hope you fuckin' enjoy it!" Another rousing ovation bellowed from the crowd before the band started playing again. Now that the show was really underway, the crowd was more energized than ever. It was an experience that some would describe as life-changing, as many concerts have been for many people.

The music built into a wild crescendo; blazing guitars, pounding drums, and a roaring crowd signaled that it was the end of the show. "THANK YOU AMARILLO FOR COMIN' OUT TONIGHT! TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES, TAKE CARE OF EACH OTHER, AND GOOD FUCKIN' NIGHT!"

The frenetic crescendo ceased, and the four musicians on that stage all threw their hands up in victory, like soldiers standing victorious over the battlefield. The smell of sweat after a show was a telltale sign that they had one their jobs. They stepped to the front of the stage lining up shoulder-to-shoulder, put their arms around the shoulders of the person or persons next to them, and took a bow for the audience. A final roar bellowed out, and Leatherclad walked off of the stage in victory.

About forty-five minutes outside of Amarillo, three-fourths of Leatherclad were gathered in a motel parking lot, awaiting Jeffrey to return with their celebratory drink. It was a tradition that after the conclusion of every tour, they'd ride their bikes to an out-of-the-way motel and celebrate the successful tour. They all leaned against their bikes, and they soon heard a familiar sound approaching. Jeffrey's Harley was the loudest of the group; loud enough to make the internal organs vibrate inside their bodies. He came flying down the road on his bike and pulled into the motel parking lot. He rode his bike over to the rest of the group, flipped down the kickstand, and shut the engine off.

Gus was the first one to inquire about the drink he picked up. "You better have gotten the good shit."

Jeffrey opened one of the small side storage boxes on his Harley, and pulled out a bottle of some obscure brand of whiskey that the band members had mentioned, displaying it like a trophy. "Did I do good?" He asked.

Julie smiled at Jeffrey's score, and nodded with approval. "Not bad, kid. Now I think it's time to celebrate."

The group was all gathered in Jeffrey's room in the motel. They made it a point to give each member their own room after the final show on each tour. They had just spent four months sleeping in bunks in a hallway on a bus; the privacy was not just appreciated, it was savored. Jeffrey poured another round, and they clinked their shot glasses together as a salute to the tour, their music, and above all, each other. "Here's to another fucking kick-ass tour," Alex said right before he took a sip of whiskey.

Jeffrey removed the glass from his lips, and called out Julie for a remark she made during the concert as he sat down on the bed. "Hey, real original, that whole graduating kindergarten crack. Yep, never heard anything like that before."

"When you're so sensitive about how young ya look, it makes it easy for us to pick on ya cause of it," she retorted.

He realized he had put himself into a debate he couldn't win, so he changed the subject to something that had the whole group excited. "Man, can you believe we get TWO whole weeks off after this?"

Julie sighed with relief before speaking up. "Oh, I need this so fuckin' bad. I tell ya, once I get home I'm gonna lock myself in my bathroom; it's gonna be me, my whirlpool bath, and my good friend Mary Jane. I could spend hours in that tub unwindin' from this tour."

Gus took another sip, and shared his plans for the two week vacation awaiting them. "While that sounds nice, I got a different plan. Back when this tour stopped in Jacksonville, I went out and bought a timeshare right on the beach."

"Get the fuck out," Julie interrupted.

"No, I'm serious. It wasn't even spur-of-the-moment either. I had been talking with the real estate agent and we had already essentially made a deal, I was just waiting to see it in person before officially shaking on it."

"So you went out and bought a house?"

"It's not big or anything, it's just a small house on the beach, nothing fancy at all. I'm gonna take the wife and kids down there for a little two-week respite. My family is the most important thing in my life, so I need this to show them just how important they are."

"See," Alex butted in, "a man with priorities." He hit his fist firmly against his chest and then pointed to Gus. "Respect, my friend."

Gus gestured back to Alex, acknowledging the respect his bandmate had for him. "I can see it now. Max and Tabitha in bed, me sitting out on the porch looking out at the moon shining on the ocean. One hand clutching a margarita, the other wrapped around the woman I love."

"Look out, he's getting mooshy on us," Jeffrey said tauntingly.

"Hey, at least I have someone I can get mooshy about. I've never even seen you with another woman," Gus teased back. "Have you ever actually seen a pair of tits that weren't your mommy's?"

"As a matter a fact, I have," Jeffrey said almost boastfully.

"Oh yeah? When?"

"It was right after I graduated high school. Senior week at the Jersey Shore; that was my first time. Unfortunately it was also my only time." His voice lowered to a mumble with embarrassment. "I haven't even had a date since moving down to Tennessee. I thought being in a rock band was supposed to get me laid. Crue lied to me."

Julie saw another opportunity to tease Jeffrey, so she took it. "Well, maybe you'd have an easier time gettin' laid if ya didn't look like a twelve-year-old girl."

Jeffrey pointed at Julie. "Once again, very original. Now, changing the subject, after this break when we go back out on tour again, I think we should start writing for a new album."

"C'mon, Jeffrey," Julie said, "we just released an album earlier this year."

"And we rushed it, and it wasn't as good as our first. That's why I want to start writing way before we're ready to make it, so we have time to make it perfect. I was thinking we do something radically different, like have the album actually tell a story with each song being like a chapter in a book."

"I can get behind that," Alex said as he nodded. "Did you have a story in mind."

"Not yet. I want it to be a collaboration when we get back. The next two weeks should just be about ourselves. We all need a break from music, and as much as I love you guys, I need some time to myself."

Gus set his glass down on a table and walked over to Jeffrey. "Awwwww, I love you too, buddy bud." He wrapped his arms tightly around Jeffrey, still sitting on the bed.

Jeffrey recoiled slightly at Gus's sudden affection, and was growing uncomfortable. "Okay, that's a little-"

"You're like the little dweeby brother I never had."

Jeffrey should have been used to all the teasing after four years with the band, but they still found new ways to surprise him. "Okay, big guy, you've made your point," he told Gus as he patted him on the back.

Gus pulled back and playfully mussed Jeffrey's hair, which was still kept in a ponytail. As much as the group picked on Jeffrey, it was all in good fun, and they did love him and each other greatly."Nah, but seriously, you guys are like my second family. Y'all are just as important in my life as Francesca, Max, and Tabitha. Doing this with you guys has really brought out joy in my life again after I was in a really dark place when my parents died. I'd be lost without you, so I propose a new toast. Jeffrey, fill us up again."

Jeffrey retrieved the bottle of whiskey from beside him, and poured another round for the group. He went clockwise like a poker dealer, starting with Gus on his left, then Julie, then Alex, and finally himself. They all raised their glasses as Gus gave his toast. "These last four years with this incredible group has turned my life around. I am eternally grateful to be able to play such great music with some of the most amazing people in the world. And I hope to be able to do this for many more years. To the Leatherclad family."

"To Leatherclad," the rest of the group said in unison as they clinked their shot glasses together and took a sip. It really was amazing how quickly bonds could form. Five years ago, none of these four people knew each other. Today, they were as tight knit as any biological family, and their fellowship assured that they would stay together for years, or even decades to come.

"We are a family. Family does everything together; so Julie, we'll be looking forward to you and Steve's wedding next April."

"Just try not to embarrass me or crash it."

"Don't worry, I think we can handle ourselves. Okay, now I need to call my parents in Pennsylvania and let them know I'll be coming up there in a couple days," Jeffrey told the group as he pulled out his cell phone. "Keep quiet for a sec."

"Aww, calling his mommy and daddy," Gus teased.

"Hey, ssh," Jeffrey snapped as he hit the call button on the phone. He got a dial tone initially, but then the call went straight to his parents' answering machine. "Huh," Jeffrey said as he removed the cell phone from his ear. "It went straight to the answering machine. They never have their phone off, what's going on?"

"I'm sure it's nothin'" Julie told him. "Just try again in the mornin'."

He set the phone down, and silenced any thoughts he had of something being wrong. "Yeah, you're right." Okay, one more round, then I think we should all turn in for the night.

At just after 12:30 AM, the group had cleared out of Jeffrey's room, leaving him alone to catch up on all the sleep he missed while touring. He removed his leather jacket and hung it on the closet doorknob. He then removed his white T-shirt he was wearing, revealing a skinny but decently muscular torso. On the left side of his chest he had a tattoo of an angel with the word 'Gram' above it. The angel was holding a scroll, and on that scroll were two dates. The first was 4/22/33, and the second was 7/18/09. It was a memorial tattoo for his late grandmother who passed away at the age of seventy-six. He was also wearing a cross necklace that he kept under his clothes. His faith was steadfast, so the cross never left his neck, except to shower.

He was tuckered out from the day and the last several months in general. He was grateful that he didn't have to sleep in a cramped bunk on a moving bus, and that he could even sleep in for a change. He took his hair out of the ponytail, sat down on the bed and kissed the cross hanging around his neck - a speed-prayer of sorts for him - and laid down, taking a moment to reflect before shutting his eyes.

Not many people are as blessed as me. I get paid to do my favorite thing - playing music - and do so with some of the greatest people I've ever met. Growing up I always envied people who were this blessed(Envy, oh no. One of the seven deadly sins), and now I'm living it. How many people can say that? The best part is that life can only get better from this point. I'm still young, and my world is still growing around me at blinding speed. The future can only hold more blessings, and with each new day that comes and goes, I'll get a greater appreciation of the life I live.

He shut his eyes, and eventually succumbed to the exhaustion that the day brought. He awaited whatever tomorrow would bring, knowing that his future was bright.

A commotion interrupted Jeffrey's pleasant sleep. The sounds of screaming and banging on the walls from the room directly below him jarred him awake. He looked at the clock through his groggy eyes, and through the sleepy blur was able to make out the time. 2:49 AM. He had barely slept for more than two hours. "Damn coke head," he sighed to himself. He heard people filling into the hallway from their rooms. Whoever was strung out below had caused quite a disturbance, but if the management was competent they would be quick to evict him from his room. He heard chatter in the hallway, and was beginning to make out common words they were saying. To his surprise, the conversations didn't involve drugs. Phrases like 'parasite,' 'infection,' 'mutilation,' and 'going insane' had been thrown around out there. He had to see what was happening. He threw on his white T-shirt and a pair of shoes, and stepped out into the hallway. He saw his three bandmates out there, and several other people he was unfamiliar with. "What the hell's going on down there?"

"It ain't just down there," one of the strangers said. "I had the TV on, and every channel was the same. They kept talkin' bout some outbreak. Said it was a parasite that was causin' people to lose their minds and lash out. I have a feelin' that's what's goin' on downstairs."

"How did this happen?" Gus asked.

"They don't know. All they know is that it started in the cities and is spreadin' from there."

"We need to get the fuck outta here," Alex said. "Get to the fucking bikes." The group hustled to the stairwell. Something bad was going down, and they needed to get as far away as possible. Jeffrey was in panic mode, and was nearly hyperventilating because of the terror he felt. He began to zone out, paralyzed with fear, until Julie snapped him out of his near-stupor.

"Jeffrey! Fuckin' move!" He snapped out of his trance with a jolt and quickly made his way to the stairwell where the group was waiting.

"You won't get far. The military's puttin' up roadblocks all over the area, closin' off the highways," the man who spoke earlier called out as the door to the stairwell closed.

"How the fuck did this happen? How did all this happen overnight?" Gus asked somewhat rhetorically as they began their four-story climb down the stairs.

"Doesn't matter, we gotta get as far away from here as possible," Alex answered.

"But the guy said the military's blocking the highways. Where are we supposed to go?" Jeffrey asked on the verge of a panic attack.

"We'll find a way," Alex tried to reassure him, but to no avail. Jeffrey started to get lightheaded, and for a moment he thought the fear would cause him to vomit. He summoned his will power and managed to get a grip for the time being. The group stormed down the four flights of stairs until they reached the ground floor. "Here." They entered the hallway on the ground floor of the motel and made a break for the front door.

Immediately after exiting the stairwell, Gus froze and leaned up against the wall. His mind went to a photograph that was in the pocket of his denim vest he wore at the show that night. It was a photo of him and his family on Easter earlier that year. Over the course of the tour, he had memorized that photo down to the most fine details. He was kneeling down wearing a black tuxedo with a large red bow-tie. Next to him was his wife Francesca, an impossibly beautiful Latina who appeared to have not aged past 21. She had luxurious black hair, flawless skin, and a smile that could make everybody around her cheerful. She was wearing a black and red dress that matched the tuxedo her husband was wearing. Sitting in chairs in front of them were their children Tabitha and Max, who both obviously got their beauty from their mother. Their almost exaggerated smiles and perky expressions displayed their innocence and enthusiasm about life. The older, Tabitha, had black hair like her parents that was put into pigtails on top of her head, and she had on a pastel blue Easter dress. Max also had black hair, and was wearing a pastel blue tuxedo to match his sister. Back in Tennessee, the family had their own ranch that had been in Gus's family for generations. They raised horses, and the kids even had their own ponies to ride. The family was the perfect example of the American Dream. Gus could not get that photograph out of his head. All of a sudden he found himself on the verge of tears when he had a horrifying realization.

"Gus! We can't stop!" Alex yelled back at him.

"What if they're infected...? What if my family's infected?" Gus asked with his voice breaking.

"They're not infected, Gus."

Horrifying scenes began playing in Gus's mind. Instead of his children screaming with joy like they usually did, they were screaming with terror. The poor children, still so young, were no doubt enduring pure hell back home. "Alex, what if my fucking family's dead?" Gus was one of the toughest people they knew. Seeing him practically crying was causing them to get emotional as well.

"Gus, your family is fine. Now let's go!"

Gus brought a hand up and began rubbing his face, wiping the tears away. His family was gone; there was no doubt about it. He would never see his wife - with her day-brightening smile and bubbly personality; or his small children - those sweet bundles of innocence who knew nothing but joy and love - again. They were dead, and Gus was completely sobbing at that realization. He spoke again, but his words were broken because of his bawling. "Oh God... Oh-oh Go-o-o-od. They're gone... they're fucking gone. No..."

Alex's demeanor changed from stern and forceful to loving and caring in a flash. He took a couple steps closer to Gus and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "Gus... it's okay, big guy. They're fine, just take it easy. It's gonna be okay, I promise."

Jeffrey chimed in as well. "Listen to him, Gus. You know he's right; you know nothing's going to happen to your family."

Their reassurance didn't help, as Gus only became more emotionally distraught. His mind began conjuring up images of his family turning into those monsters: His wife Francesca writhing uncontrollably as the parasite took over her brain; his kids Max and Tabitha running around like mindless animals with blood running down their faces. He couldn't handle the horror of what he knew was happening, or will happen, to his family. "O-o-oh God... My kids are four and seven. Th-th-they're too young to have this h-happen to them. They're t-too young to die."

"Gus, your kids are going to be fine."

Gus shook his head side-to-side as he continued sobbing. No matter what they did, they would not be able to pull him from his extremely emotional state. "No... No... No they won't, they're gone... they're gone..." All of a sudden, a door down the hall flung open, catching the attention of everybody except Gus. A man emerged from the room with lumps protruding from his head and blood running out of his nose and mouth.

Alex's attention snapped to the man, and he started pulling on Gus's shoulder to get him to move, but the gargantuan man didn't budge. "Gus, we need to go now." There was dire urgency in Alex's voice that he hoped would snap Gus back to reality, but it had no such effect.

"Go where? I have nowhere to go; my family's gone." The infected man turned and started sprinting towards them. All three of Gus's bandmates pleaded desperately for him to come with them. Gus either did not hear them or chose to ignore them, because he remained where he was and continued sobbing.

"Gus!" Alex called out as the man got closer, and closer, before lunging out at Gus. "Gus, behind you!"

The big man turned around just as the infected grabbed onto him and sunk its teeth into Gus's exposed arm. He let out a howl as his bandmates jumped back with horror. Jeffrey's eyes nearly tripled in size from the shock, and his entire body went numb with terror. "GUS, NO!" Julie screamed as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a multi-tool. She opened the blade and dug the knife into the side of the infected man's head. He dropped to the floor with the knife sticking out of his skull, and the group turned their attention to Gus and the bite mark on his arm. As if Gus wasn't already panicking enough, at that point he was having a full-blown panic attack.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God, I've been bit!" His knees buckled and gave out from underneath him, and he knew he was marked for death. Now there really was no chance to ever see his family again. Even if they were still alive, Gus would never know. "Shit, I'm fucking infected!" The group hadn't fully processed what just happened, but the shock could have been felt throughout the entire state of Texas. They had just witnessed the end of their bandmate, friend, and brother. So many emotions ran through their heads, none of them knew what to feel at that moment.

"Fuck, what do we do?" Alex asked frantically. "What do we do?!"

"Where's Jeffrey?" Gus asked. The group turned around to where Jeffrey was, but saw that he was not there any more. He had run off on them, after not even three hours ago talking about how they would go through anything together.

Jeffrey was making a mad dash out of the motel for his bike. He couldn't bear to watch his close friend get infected, and it that fight-or-flight situation, he chose flight. As he hopped on his bike, Alex came through the front doors of the motel screaming at him.

"JEFFREY!" Jeffrey did not pay attention to him. "WHAT HAPPENED TO 'WE'RE A FAMILY?!' WHAT HAPPENED TO 'WE GO THROUGH EVERYTHING TOGETHER?!'" Jeffrey kickstarted his motorcycle and immediately rode off without looking back or taking a second thought. "JEFFREY!" Alex watched as his supposed friend and brother rode off. The feeling of betrayal pierced him deep; adding salt to the wound caused by watching Gus get bit. Jeffrey had abandoned them, betrayed them, and Alex cursed him as he rode away from them.

As Jeffrey rode away from those he loved like family, the weight of what he had just done hung over him. I shouldn't have ran off. I loved those guys, and I betrayed all the years of trust that we had built. I'm a coward. I'm a shameful coward and there's no other way around it. And it's too late to do anything now. If I were to go back for them, how would I defend my actions? How could I explain this to them in a way that wouldn't make them want to kill me? No... I only have myself now. Instead of dying with those I love as an honorable man, I've condemned myself to die on my own as a cowardly man.

He turned down a side road to avoid getting to the highway, and rode through quickly to get as far away as possible. He wasn't exactly being stealthy though, as his motorcycle was loud enough to be heard from miles away. He hoped the road would lead out somewhere, but then he saw the worst possible sign on the side of the road. DEAD END. "Shit!" he screamed. The sign was particularly fitting, since the end of that road would more than likely be where he will die. Sure enough, just seconds after passing the sign, the road came to an end. He got off his bike and it tipped over onto its side. He opened one of the small containers on the side of the bike and pulled out a revolver with some spare bullets. He made sure it was loaded, and ran off into the woods. The light from the moon was the only thing that let him see where he was going as he ran through the trees, not sure of where it would lead him. He eventually exited the trees and found himself on another road. Before he could make a decision on which way to follow the road, a beam of light shone on him and a voice screamed out.

"FREEZE RIGHT THERE!" the voice called out. It was a soldier, with his rifle raised and ready to shoot Jeffrey dead in a second. Jeffrey threw up his hands, keeping a grip on the revolver, as the soldier got closer. "Drop the gun!" he called out. Jeffrey considered complying, but if he did, that would just mean the soldier would gun him down when he wasn't armed. "DROP THE FUCKING GUN NOW!" Jeffrey backed away from the soldier, refusing to let go of his gun. "ALRIGHT! YOU ASKED FOR IT!" The soldier brought the rifle to his shoulder, but before he could pull the trigger, Jeffrey aimed his gun at the soldier and fired out of reflex. He watched in horror as the soldier dropped to the ground.

Holy shit! What have I done?! WHAT HAVE I FUCKING DONE?! "Oh my God!" An overwhelming feeling of nausea assaulted him when he realized that he had just murdered a soldier. "OH MY GOD!" He nearly passed out, but he regained his focus when he saw two more lights coming down the road. He froze for a second, but then he heard one of them call out.

"Shit! He killed McKenzie; drop him!" The two soldiers unleashed a hail of bullets from their rifles at Jeffrey, shots whizzing past him and striking the ground around his feet, but none striking him. He turned to run, his feet moving fast without propelling him forward like in a cartoon, but he managed to get traction and took off down the road. Jeffrey's speed and stamina were matched by few, and he managed to get distance from the soldiers quickly. He ran zig-zags down the street in case they opened fire again, and eventually came to a bridge that crossed over a small stream about ten feet below. He stopped for a second weighing his options. He was far enough ahead that the soldiers didn't have any visual on him, so he could hide under the bridge and hopefully lose them.

He ran off the road down the slope, before falling off the two-foot drop off, and ran under the bridge. He found a pipe jutting out several feet from the bridge that served as a rain water run off, and noticed that it was big enough that he could hide in there. He ran to the opening and crouched to get inside. He went back a ways before turning around so he was facing the opening. He heard footsteps approaching above him, and hoped that they would run across the bridge thinking that he had already run across himself. "He ran across the bridge!" he heard one of the voices say.

"No, he didn't have that big of a lead on us. He's still around, search the area." Shit, they're gonna find me.

"Roger."

He went prone in the tunnel with his revolver in front of his face, ready to use if one of the men were to look inside. He heard the men jump down on either side of the road, lined up the sights on his gun, and brought his finger to the trigger. If he needed to use it, he hoped he would have quicker reflexes than the soldiers. He heard footsteps approach and then the sound of boots stepping on the metal pipe directly above him. The resonance was loud, and he realized that if he did need to fire the gun in that confined space, it would blow out his eardrums. He heard one of the soldiers speak up again. "This guy's fast, I'll give him that."

"I'm gonna look in this pipe right here." This is it. This is the end.

He saw two legs at the opening of the pipe, but the soldier did not look in like he said he would. "Say again, sir," Jeffrey heard him say. He had gotten a call over his radio; that might be Jeffrey's reprieve. He spoke again, "Sir, we're in the middle of tracking down-" There was silence, before speaking up one more time. "Yes sir. Hey man, fuck this guy. Major just called us back to the checkpoint." Jeffrey saw the legs walk away from the pipe, and heard them climb back onto the road.

He folded his arms in front of him and rested his head on them. He had escaped certain death, but was that really what he wanted? He picked his head up again and looked at the revolver in his hand, contemplating whether or not it was worth continuing on with the world falling apart. It isn't worth it. Nothing is worth continuing on anymore. I have to end this now. He brought the gun up to the side of his head and brought his finger to the trigger. All he had to do to escape the hell he was in was pull the trigger. It would all be over. Just do it you coward. You've already damned yourself by running away. What reason do you have for not pulling the trigger? He started to squeeze the trigger slightly, ready to end it... but found himself unable to. No... It can't just end like this. When my time does come to die, it would have to be an honorable death, even though I am no longer an honorable man. An honorable death might redeem myself, and taking the coward's way out is not the way to do it. He took the gun away from his head and rested his arms in front of him once again. He decided to stay in the pipe for the night in hopes to avoid any soldiers, infected, or other hostile people. He dropped his head onto his arms folded in front of him, and after what seemed like forever, finally fell asleep.

Jeffrey awoke in the same rain pipe where he nearly met his end. He had sharp pains in several places from sleeping on a hard surface for several hours. He picked his head up, and felt disappointed that he had actually awoken at all. He managed to shake the feeling and remembered the promise he made himself last night before he fell asleep. Keep fighting. When death comes to take me, it has to be honorable. He crawled forward until he exited the pipe, and stood up, feeling the pain of the stiff muscles all over his body. He climbed back up to the road, and started to move across the bridge, stopping halfway to look towards the sun.

Jeffrey stood on that bridge watching the sun rise up with its beams of light poking through the trees. The sun's warmth did not bring comfort as it once did; instead it brought despair. In one night, everything he knew and loved had been shattered into fragments. He had seen society collapse, he had seen a close friend die, he had abandoned those he loved, and he was now a murderer. Tears formed in his eyes as he lamented the world that had ceased to be overnight. Why did this all happen? I had everything; I was on top of the world. Then overnight it collapsed from underneath me and now I'm buried under the rubble. I don't think I'll ever be able to dig myself out. I'll be trapped for the rest of my life, however long that will be.

The cross that hung around his neck almost all the time became more noticeable than ever, and he could feel it burning into his chest, like it would someone possessed by a demon. Only in this instance it was the cross that was evil. It was a symbol of betrayal, not faith. It was a symbol of lies, not love. It no longer served as an object of sanctity, but one of sacrilege. The God that Jeffrey had always believed to be all-loving had just betrayed him in the foulest of ways. He hoped there would be something to salvage from the wreckage of the world, but there was nothing left. It was all the will of a treacherous God who had betrayed all who looked up to Him in their lives, and Jeffrey had had all he can take. He was not going to tolerate His divine lies another second. No more.

He reached his hands to the back of his neck and undid the chain. He held the cross in his fist dangling from the chain, and held his hand over the ledge of the bridge over the flowing stream beneath him. The cross was swaying from the chain because of the shaking of his hand. Let it go. Let it go and rid yourself of that holy traitor forever. As he held the cross, he was finding it difficult to part with it. He had always believed God to be the most loving being possible. Could he really just let Him go this quickly? Surely there was something he could salvage, surely all was not lost. No... All was indeed lost. He could not continue living with the lies of a deceitful deity. No more.

He released his grip on the chain, and as the cross fell into the water, so did what remained of his faith. He watched as the stream carried it along - the fragments of his faith - tumbling over the rocks and being swept away. It floated down the stream towards the ocean, where it would inevitably join up with the shattered fragments of so many people's lives. "No more." He was free from that burden forever.

He turned and continued along the road; the only friend he had left. He didn't know where it would take him or what challenges he will endure. The only thing he knew was that he had to fight. It was the only way he could find honor again. He marched on the face the world - a world he had now scorned - and all its trials head-on.

That concludes chapter 1 of A World Scorned. Stay tuned for chapter 2.

Don't forget to leave a review.