Fool's Apocalypse

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We were out on the road again; only this time around, south was the path we took, with a wonderful bunch of robot misfits, and quite frankly, two people who should have never made it quite this far in an apocalyptic setting.

I rode my trusty quad-bike, while Security was out in front riding his. Next to him, Quen was showing just how capable he was under the controls of a dirt bike. At the rear, Gem and Marcus sat in the back of the four-by-four, as they were sporadically licked over by a bombardment of hyperactive tongues, belonging to Quen's two dogs, who they shared their seats with. Seated in the front driver and passenger seats, two skinned-robots sat - I hadn't the opportunity to speak to the male one yet, and I was pretty convinced that the female who drove, was none other than the lady robot I'd seen half-naked, putting on her skin... I thought it would be best if I avoided her... she probably thought I was just another deranged pervert, anyhow.

My bestest-canine-pal in the world - Kay - ran alongside with me. Unlike Quen's beloved dogs, she had the stamina and speed to keep up, and seemingly run forever. My other bestest-human-pal in the world - Hope - rode alongside with me on her motorbike; while her newly appointed, hairy-doggo - Bark - ran alongside her, also. Every now and then Kay and Bark would run together and have a playful bash or nip. It was still so peculiar when they acted this dog-like, yet at the same time could spark up a debate in the English tongue and open up like a cabinet to reveal a wide array of weaponry to use.

I guess there was no point in wondering about these things - normality didn't have a place anymore in this world, and sometimes and for somethings, we were all better off for it. For example, it had occurred to me, why the hell did we become a biker gang whenever we had to travel? I might have found the answer out if I'd bothered to ask Security more questions? But in the end, I just presumed they'd run out of cars... or bikes were simply cooler for robots? I mean, just look at Arnie.

Thankfully, the rest of our ride south was one of peace and serenity; no Ravager scum came around to pester us, nor any other insignificant gangs for that matter.

Roads were generally starting to show increasing signs of wear and tear these days. The verges had begun a mission to reclaim the tarmac they had always been beaten back from, and like the dreams of many a receding man's head - the baldness was losing this fight.

Amongst other things, the roads were mostly always cluttered with random junk; things like burnt-out cars, old tires, and tree debris was to be expected. But the right-out absurd confused me greatly; rusted bathtubs, a collection of rubber chickens, and even the odd, fully-sized adult doll, I'd seen. It was strange, but familiar chaos. Maybe that was a clear reason for our bikes? So we could manoeuvre ourselves around all this littered clutter.

We'd been riding for several hours... or several minutes, or days. I think I'm gonna stop repeating myself now, with how bad I am when it comes to keeping up with that thing called time. But anyway, as we rode on, one of the biggest trees I think I had ever seen, laid out in front of the road - maybe half-a-mile out in the distance. Other fallen trees we'd come across had been far easier to avoid, and if they caused us too much trouble, Security and his two robot-companions made easy work relocating them elsewhere.

This one, however, looked as though it had the potential to weigh several tons. It was also wedged between two stone walls, which had been built either side of the road. Several branches, thick with green leaves, grew out of any small gaps and stretched out far beyond the trunk, obscuring anyone's vision from spying the road beyond.

Things would be tricky here, as the road we were on had been directly cut through a forest, and there seemed to be no easy way, especially for the four-by-four, to get through - unless we were to turn around and find another route. Before a unanimous decision was cast in that regards, we'd all come to a full stop. Quen, out in front, had parked his bike and was cautiously making his way over to inspect the blockade. He removed his helmet and turned around to give us all a good inspection.