FicWad

First of all - I do not own Gerard, Mikey or Alicia Way and any comments/views in here do not necessarily reflect their actions/opinions.

Set in 2015, this is my first attempt at a romance. Usually in my stories the main characters have a screwed up relationship, but with this one I'm going to test out some new gears.
YES - there will be violence
YES - there will be sex
YES - there will be twists and turns and all sorts of drama
But NO - there will be no second chapter unless I get some interest - SO RATE AND REVIEW PLEASE!

Hope you Enjoy! :)


Dasha sat amongst the branches of her tree, atop the hill. Her muscles protested, aching for bed, but she would not yield. This was her time of the day - hers. Nothing, not even the intense turmoil of the world could separate her from this moment. She looked out over the plains, weary eyes taking the time to appreciate every minute detail still visible.
It was utterly dark on the eastern horizon, with only the faintest hues of the apricot sunset still lighting the west. The silhouettes of trees gleamed softly in the last few gasps of day, only ruffled by a soft wind that rippled over the countryside. Across the valley the cattle were lowing; faint cadences between young and old only just distinct to her ears. The shadow of a straggling eagle ghosted over the wheat field before disappearing into the bush.
It was peaceful.
But fleeting.



Gerard stepped out onto the foreign land, legs wobbling slightly after his time spent at sea. However weeks in the metal hull were a small price to pay for living in a land protected from the disease. Though they wouldn't be guaranteed safety in Australia, the chances of getting infected were minimal. It was their best hope.
He turned and helped his sister-in-law who smiled at him warmly.
"Mikey's just gone to grab the bags." she said, clutching at Gerard's arm for support. She kept expecting the ground to move beneath her, and when it didn't her balance was thrown off. "How long is the bus trip?" she asked.
The dark haired man shook his head. "We've been assigned to Area 24, way out in the countryside." He glanced at the sky, registering the first tendrils of sunlight over the eastern horizon that heralded the morning. "I would say we'll be there sometime tonight."
Just then his brother pushed through the crowd, a suitcase in each hand and a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. "The rest will be shuttled there on a different bus, but they advised us to take a bag each for the ride."
"Thanks Mikey." Gerard smiled, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "I can honestly say I can't wait to sleep in a decent bed."
Alicia leaned over and hugged her husband. "Neither can I."
The younger of the Way brothers grinned. "I'm just excited to be here. We can finally settle down again into a safe place."
"Yeah," Gerard agreed, "no more running. This is our new home."



The high pitched shrieking of the kettle filled the kitchen and Dasha rubbed her forehead in annoyance.
"You going in today?" Ethan mumbled, pulling the howling coffee pot from the flames. He shut off the gas burner, perpetually aware of dwindling supplies.
His older sister shot him an exasperated look. "What choice do I have?" she mumbled, scraping around an empty jar for the last traces of honey it contained. She sighed heavily, wiping the knife onto stale bread. "I'll have to take some meat in with me, we're low on just about everything."
Ethan saw the tightening of her eyes and reached across the kitchen to squeeze her shoulder. Though barely twenty he could see the signs of ageing already lining her sun browned face. The lips which once were pulled taught in a smile now curled down at the corners.
Life wasn't what it used to be.
"It'll be okay. We're one of the lucky ones, remember?" he said, trying to lift her spirits.
Dasha shrugged off his hand, reaching out to grab her battered akubra before heading to the door. As she pulled on her worn-down boots Ethan heard her whisper in a voice too soft "I'm starting to think I'd rather be dead too."



The early sun did nothing to warm the frigid autumn air, and Dasha blew on her cold fingers profusely. Her feet shuffled across the quiet yard. It was always quiet these days. Nature seemed to have strangled the voice out of the birds, almost in mourning of what had happened to her earth.
The horses nickered softly as she approached, white puffs breath misty in the air. Velvet noses nudged her, seeking affection from their carer. She gave them each a quick pat before turning the small herd out into their paddock for the day. The big animals trotted happily into the thick grass, eager mouths tearing handfuls of greenery from the ground. However Dasha could see the traces of yellow that the dawn-frost was leaving and her heart thudded painfully.
"Enjoy that grass while you can my friends, for winter wont be so kind."
She filled up the water trough manually with a hand pump. The generator that fed their house warmth and light ate precious fuel up faster than she liked. Her biceps strained under the weight of the handle, but within a few minutes the concrete trough was full.
"That should keep you tied over until I get home." she announced. The rest of the chores Ethan could do in her absence. There was no point them both going into town, only to hear more unpleasant news.
Dasha pushed open the door to the cooler, not recoiling at the sight of the carcasses hanging from the ceiling like she once did as a child. Survival was all that mattered now and squeamishness had to be put aside for the greater good. She had a young brother, still in his early teens to provide for and protect.
Her eyes moved away from the heavy bulks hanging above the ground to the pile of already packaged meats.
"Low on beef." she observed, grabbing an armful of the precious parcels. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly at the thought of running out of their proteins, but there was other things they needed as well. It was either trade the meat, or forego anything else.
Dasha glanced at her watch, and seeing that it was pushing six, quit lingering and headed to the car.
Since the apocalypse, every household had to hand over any useful machinery to the government. Because of their isolation and the food that they helped provide, Dasha had been able to convince the authorities to leave them a few items. The car had been her first stipulation. There was no way she could transport livestock and produce to the town without a decent vehicle and a trailer.
The second demand was the generator. In the harsh climate of the Australian highlands, winter was a death sentence to those without sufficient heat. She wondered how the original settlements had done it, but then again they usually headed to the warmer valleys for the coldest months. However Dasha and her brother didn't have that choice. The generator ran mainly on fuel, although some solar panels had been installed to help the strain on the power supply. At least humanity had made some useful inventions before it was turned on it's head.
The car was a beat up old patrol, 4 cylinder diesel engine that groaned and complained, but always got the job done. Dasha dropped the meat in the back before heading out onto the dirt road.
Her tense shoulders relaxed somewhat as she traversed the countryside. The looping road winded between the hills and valleys, passing seemingly endless stretches of beautiful green. Most of the trees had been hacked away to make more room for harvestable land, but a few copses of the bush lingered atop the hills and around the dams. If Dasha took her mind off it she could almost imagine that they weren't fighting for their lives and that the world was how it used to be.
However this was short lived. As she drew closer to the town, evidence of the hardships began to show. A herd of cattle, skin hanging off their bones stood like a crowd of skeletons. Tramps sitting by the roadside, empty eyes fixed on the wide and barren sky. Houses, their doors slashed with red paint - warning any passerby not to approach. Schools, hospitals - empty. The human race was dwindling. It was everyone for themselves.
Dasha gritted her teeth against the despair creeping up on her. Ethan's words from earlier on echoed in her ears. Yes, they were the lucky ones. Perhaps not as well off as some were, but at least they weren't sleeping in the gutter. And at least they weren't on the other side of the Wall.
The aforementioned barrier rose up in her sight like an eery tower. Miles and miles of 12 meter high sheer metal that protected their sanctuary from the horrors that lay beyond.
The Apocalypse.
The 2012 prediction of doom had come true, though not in the way that was expected. A mistake. A simple flaw made by a scientist who though he was going to save the world, ended up as the catalyst for it's doom.
Deathropsy.
That's what they called it.
The eyes turn black, skin covered in layers of welts and abscesses that swelled and released streams of blue-black liquid, waxen complexion and loss of sanity. Though the symptoms took weeks to reveal themselves, once shown it was unmistakable. The infection was highly contagious - spread by any amount of fluid contact. The result for the contaminated was an eventual death, gruesome in it's nature and no doubt painful if the sounds that echoed from beyond the Wall were anything to go by.
Deathropsy - the modern Apocalypse.
The wall that protected Ethan and Dasha spanned the majority of eastern Australia, blocked off into segments in case one stronghold was taken by the disease. Military men, armed with an array of deadly weaponry patrolled the top of the Walls, killing any infected that strayed too close. Fires were lit at regular intervals - gallons of precious flammables tossed from the air onto the dead.
The government, perhaps, hoped to reclaim some of the lands that had been previously contaminated, but Dasha knew this was unlikely. Any liquid - the water in the ground, rivers directly contaminated, ocean shores that came into contact with it, could pose a threat. The only option now was to stay put and hold out on whatever resources were available.
Dasha turned her gaze away from the Wall. It's very presence chilled her right to the bone.
After a while the road swung away from the metal barrier and entered the main centre of the town. The borders of what was once a quaint country village known as Willowvale now spread far beyond it's original capacity. Refugees from other countries were swarming to their borders. Australia, one of the last places to be affected by the disease, was still relatively safe. It had protected it's isolated shores from the disease for three years before an undetected immigrant yet to show the symptoms started the spread. By then though there were masses of precautions already laid out. The country was divided into quarantined segments and plans had been made for an eventual invasion.
Dasha parked her car a block away from the town square. Here, meetings were called and the inhabitants of this section of the country were adjourned. Area 24 they were called. One was scheduled for noon that day and Dasha, with a touch of reluctance, came as she was called.
However there were a few hours before it began, which she spent trading with the other inhabitants. Fresh meat was a highly prized food source and for the few lumps she offered Dasha was able to haggle a good amount of supplies. She had a set of reliable buyers that she visited and was not disappointed with her load; ten kilos of white flour, two jars of honey, one half-sack of sugar, a dozen of wizened but promising apples, some frozen greens and a box of assorted tinned foods. There was also a few household items she was able to get hold of; a handful of candles, light bulbs, a stack of woolen blankets, the box of horseshoes she was needing, a kerosene lamp since the last one got smashed and a better pair of boots for Ethan.
She hauled her load back to the patrol and packed it safely away inside her car. Though there were many scavengers about she wasn't overly worried abut her car being broken into - thieves were given a bullet to the head on the spot for stealing.
Dasha glanced at her watch and, certain that she had time, ducked into the fuel depot. Customers were few so she found herself able to talk with her long-time friend Johno who manned the counter.
"Hey Dash, where you bin'?" he asked, grinning with a mouthful of white teeth. His blue eyes glinted playfully beneath a shaggy fringe of sandy hair, which she ruffled affectionately.
"Home - working. Some of us don't have the luxury of being able to sit on their ass all day and still make ends meet." her voice was stony but there was a teasing edge beneath it all. Johno was one of the few people who were still able to bring out a smile in her.
He gasped mockingly. "I 'ope you aren't suggestin' that I'm lazy or anythin' Miss Dashaar." he drawled out the 'a' in her name, his thick accent making her grin.
Dasha shrugged. "I didn't say anything about you being lazy, just commenting on your easy lifestyle is all." Though she played down the seriousness of his job, the truth was that Johno had more than once been held at gunpoint by people desperate for fuel. The government no longer charged for diesel and petrol, but each citizen was rationed with coupons that were determined to suit their needs by the authorities. However there were always those that needed more than they were given.
Johno rolled his eyes. "Easy lifestyle? I'd rather be hidin' away in those hills where you're at. At least you can pretend all this bullshit don't exist."
Dasha shook her head, suddenly weighed down by her troubles. "It's not as easy as that Johno, it really aint."
The fuel depot manager smiled at her and, sensing the mood shift, changed the conversation.
"So what can I do for yer today?" he asked.
Dasha lifted up a large jerry can. "Fill this with a couple of liters? I'm low on fuel for the generator. Oh and the car needs to be topped up as well."
As she went to leave the store Johno pressed a parcel into her hand.
"What's this?" she asked, looking at the unmarked packaging.
He shrugged, an easy grin showing off his teeth once more. "Open it when you get home. Just a lil' treat for you an' Ethan."
Overwhelmed by gratitude Dasha reached her long arms around him in one of her rare hugs, whispering her thanks in his ear.



By the time Dasha got to the town square it was already packed with people. Her eyes skimmed over the crowd, taking in the extreme differences in those present.
The poor and desperate were easily distinguishable by their hollow eyes and sunken cheeks.
Most were like her; farming people that only ventured into the confines of the town when it was necessary, however she noticed with a sense of guilt that a lot of them didn't look as well of as her and Ethan. Many were worn out, backs bent out of shape by hard work and hands battered by rough labor. She felt a sense of understanding towards every one of them, knowing what it was like to carry the weight of the country upon the backs of themselves and their animals.
Among the poor and the working there were also rare glimpses of those that were higher up - men and women who worked for the government directly. They showed little if any signs of hardship, and stood tall above the rest. Dasha wanted to hate them, but found she couldn't. They helped keep her and her brother safe.
A makeshift stage had been erected in the centre of the square, onto which a broad shouldered man stepped. His serious face silenced all conversation among the crowd.
In his hand was a piece of paper.
"It has been decided," he began, foregoing the pleasantries and greetings that once may have been incorporated in more civil times, "that each household the government deems fit to bare more inhabitants, will play host to the last of the refugees. Negotiations with other countries has shown that the need for immigration between our borders is no longer necessary after this group." His loud voice boomed across the heads in the crowd; no microphone needed to amplify the generous sound. "These last few hundred immigrants are welcome within out borders to help work and find safety. However, to accommodate the current population it is imperative that we have more productive farming. Surveys show that the workforce within the region has dwindled due to our ageing population. The amount of children born in Area 24 in the last year only amounted to four!"
Four? Dasha thought, I mustn't have heard him right. It couldn't be that small!
However the murmur that ran through the crowd echoed the man's words. Indeed, there were almost no children born in the area which was causing concern for the government. An ageing population meant a less productive population.
The man barely paused in his speech, "Troubled by this latest figure we are now intending on putting a stop to it. We wish to encourage women to have children, particularly those who are young and strong. The government intends to make this happen however they see fit, effective immediately."
Dasha felt a pang of worry. However they see fit? What does he mean by that?
"In regards to the refugee placement, I have been given a list of properties that are required..." the man boomed on, voice drowning out the concerns of the people. Dasha glanced around, suddenly feeling trapped.
But it's our home, how can they demand such things? she thought. From the snippets of conversation she heard around her most people were thinking along the same lines.
"Number 6 Cresent drive!" the man shouted.
Voices rose in protest.
"The property of Hampshire!"
Somebody near to Dasha began to scream obscenities at the announcer.
"Number 18 Sycamore Lane!"
A row of armed militia stood between the man and the crowd. They were always prepared.
"Auburnvale!"
For a moment Dasha thought her heart had stopped. Did he just say…?
"Number 7 and number 26 Smith Road!"
She clutched at a nearby man who turned to her with a blank expression.
"Did he just say Auburnvale?" she demanded, willing him to respond with a 'no.'
The man shrugged. "Yeah... Pretty sure he did."
"Oh God!" she moaned, covering her face with her hands.
The announcer, coming to the end of the list, placed the piece of hated paper in his pocket.
"To the inhabitants of the estates that I just read out: please be prepared to have your new residents arrive within the next 24 hours. Any questions will be answered upon their arrival by those dropping them off. It is advised not to resist the new placements. It is for the good of humanity."
Dasha felt like she was going to be sick.



When the sun set Ethan became nervous. His sister was usually never this late. Without fail she was always here, perched in the branches of the peach tree that grew at the very top of the mountain, just a few hundred yards from the house.
Worry gnawed at his stomach. So many things could have gone wrong when she was in town. Though he knew Dasha was tough and didn't take shit from anyone, she was still just one person.
However when the sounds of an engine climbing the hill reached his ears Ethan allowed himself to breath again. Thoughts of car crashes or violent murderers drifted out of his mind and he ran outside to meet the patrol.
As Dasha stepped out of the car he enveloped her immediately into a tight hug. "You were gone so long.... I was worried." he finished lamely.
His sister shrugged out of his embrace and began to grab supplies from the car. "Yeah... lots of stuff to do. Meeting took a while, talked to some people, cattle on road..." she summed up, too tired and upset to elaborate further.
"So what did the authorities have to say?" he asked, not picking up on her bad mood.
Dasha walked towards the house, arms full of supplies. "Nothing important. I'll tell you later."
In a rare display of childishness Ethan tugged on her arm and persisted. "But I wanna know now! Please tell me?"
"No." her tone was sharp. "Help me finish unloading the car. I'll tell you when I feel like it and not before." she pulled away from him and didn't see the water welling up in his eyes.
Ethan held back tears and did as his sister asked, then went straight to bed without even mentioning dinner.
Dasha sighed heavily as she saw his figure retreating into his room. She didn't often snap at him, valuing their relationship too precious to sour with argumentative words.
With nothing else to do that night and no appetite for food, Dasha resigned herself to bed as well. However even when her tired body sank into the softness of her mattress, sleep would not claim her. Nagging thoughts about the strangers coming and the guilt over Ethan kept her mind wide awake deep into the night. It was only when she shoved a pillow over her head and forcibly counted sheep in her mind to drown out the other thoughts that exhaustion overcame her.
Even then though, her dreams her haunted by darkness.


Ratings and Reviews are greatly appreciated!