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Old 17-Mar-17, 23:40
Rkelly123 Rkelly123 is offline
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Default The Warden, The Tribal

I recommend adjusting your browser size to make the story more like a page so the story is easier to read.

Critique and comments always welcome!
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The future was a bleak one. Out of the tension and turmoil of the 21st century, civilization as we knew it was changed forever. The world was overcome with plant growth as the natural world regained control over what were once growing cities and towering buildings. The human population had dwindled to its lowest level in recent history.

However the world was not without societies, in what was once the central United States a flourishing society had formed. Holding to the ideals of the old world, it was simply called “The Republic.” The Republic was one of the few places on earth where people were educated and trained for jobs and could rely on the security and safety provided by their organized military. The Republic military kept the tribals and bandits of the wilds out of their territory. One of the cornerstones of the military was the wardens. A group of the most well trained and most experienced soldiers The Republic had to offer.

Rigs was one such warden. Roughly 31 years old and 6 foot tall his body was a toned, rugged machine from nearly a decade of military service and training. His uniform proudly displayed the flag of The Republic on his shoulder. Red and Gold vertically aligned in a patch. Rigs had been called into base for his newest assignment, and was preparing to go out and execute it. It seems a team of 3 Republic scouts had gone missing on a mapping and reconnaissance mission. It was his job to find them and if possible bring them back to Republic territory. The last communication received from the team was roughly 60 miles into uncharted territory west of The Republics main borders. That would be where he would start.

After a rough weeks march westward Rigs arrived at the remains of the scouts encampment. Immediately he knew there wasn’t a struggle here. The camp was cleaned up quickly but not in a hurry. The only further clue as to what happened to the team was a poorly covered trail of foot prints leaving camp. Rigs followed this trail out of the camp for quite some time. Keeping an eye out for any tribals or other threats that might be lurking in the dense forest.

The trail led Rigs to a ridge that overlooked much of the surrounding area. This would be a good spot to get his bearings and look for any possible hints as to the teams location, smoke signals or flares possibly. Rigs examined the tracks again as followed them to the edge of the rock face, the fall was far but it looked like the team scaled their way down into the valley below. Upon further examination however he noticed another pair of tracks. A small pair of prints that followed the team the whole way. The tracks were only lightly covered, a small bit of leather bound to a foot maybe. Contrasting the heavily booted team of scout. They must’ve been followed by a group of tribals.

Rigs removed his rifle from his shoulder and looked down the lens of the scope into the valley. Trying to get a closer look before exposing himself by climbing down the ridge. He didn’t see any direct human activity, there was only a small herd of deer about 200 yards out. But something or someone had spooked them, they bounded quickly out of sight.

A moment later Rigs heard the rush of soft footsteps behind him and turned. In blur of motion his attacker hit him square in the chest with a hard blunt object. He lost his grip on his rifle and it quickly flew down the ridge out of sight. He rotated to face his attacker but was hit again by the staff the attacker was wielding. Rigs drew his sidearm quickly, a skill honed from years of combat. Still dazed from the strikes he raised the weapon and met his attacker. In another blur of motion the attacker skillfully hit his hands causing his sidearm to go tumbling into the dense forest brush.

Any less experienced soldier would be panicking. But Rigs was smiling, knowing he was in for a good fight with this tribal. He rose to full height and faced his attacker. Finally getting a glimpse of the savage. The tribal was small, and female. She couldn’t have been more than 16 years old. Rigs chuckled quietly during this pause in the fighting. This woman, no this girl was bold he’d give her that. Raising his fists he simply stated
“Alright girl, let’s go.”
She cocked her head to the side obviously not able to understand his language, and rushed forward with her staff ready to strike.

The tribal struck quickly, but Rigs was able to block the most damaging of hits. Her speed and strength was remarkable, no doubt from years of survival in the rugged wilds. Taking the initiative in the fight she pressured Rigs backwards slowly with each swing of her staff. She pulled back with all her might and swung at his head. Rigs’ hands rushed up to meet the staff in a flash. Grabbing it from her hands throwing the weapon over the ridge.
“Come on girl, it’s no fair that you have a weapon and I don’t”
Rigs said with a smile again.

The tribal screamed and rushed Rigs, jumping onto his shoulders and shoving them both to the ground. Rigs hit the rocky ground hard. The force of the impact knocking the wind out of him. Dazed, Rigs was vulnerable to the girl’s attacks. Savagely punching him in the chest and head she swung wildly. Getting solid hits in on this huge toned man that must’ve outweighed her by 100 pounds. Rigs coughed up blood and knew he needed to stop messing around. He shielded his head with his arms but the girl kept swinging.

Her attacks were rhythmic and Rigs timed his defense accordingly. As the girl wound up one swing Rigs grabbed her hands and pushed the small, toned girl off of him. He threw 2 punches at her, one at her stomach and one at her head. Both connected. The girl buckled over in pain clutching her stomach. Rigs followed up with an uppercut to the face that sent the girl falling backwards bleeding from her nose and with a massive bruise on her face. Both combatants were bleeding and battered. Even with such a size mismatch this girl was really putting up a fight. But Rigs had the advantage now.

The girl was sprawled on the ground. Breathing heavily, her tribal clothing covered in both of their blood. Rigs approached her and grabbed her by the head lifting her to her feet. He examined her again. Young, perhaps even 13 or 14 years old she was about 4’11” and 110 pounds of toned muscle from tracking. Tracking that obviously included other humans as targets. Rigs shoved her back into the forest, the girl stumbled but managed to stay on her feet, she limped into the brush trying to get out of sight.

Rigs followed slowly, the girl was still fast but he knew he could catch her. The light trail of blood lead him deeper into the forest. But he could no longer see the girl. He followed the trail for a few moments his eyes trained on the ground looking for any break in the trail.

He heard the rush of footsteps again and looked up just to see the tribal. A blur of motion she jumped and kicked him into nearby tree. Rigs impacted the tree with a lot more force than one might expect to come from this young girl. Before He could react the girl rushed at him again. This time planting a hard kick in his midsection. Rigs fell to his knees. Desperately clutching his stomach in pain. The girl deftly wrapped her large thighs around his head and around the tree and squeezed them together. Rigs head was pushed into the tree and the girls firm ass. Her legs wrapped around the mans thick neck the girl tightened her hold. Using her hands to brace herself off the ground.

Rigs pushed against the tribal’s legs as hard as he could. But she had leverage against him with the tree at his back. Rigs couldn’t breathe. The girl used one hand to support herself and used the other to hit the man in his firm abs. Each hit made Rigs more desperate for air. The girl’s firm thighs around his head prevented blood flow and Rigs was on the brink of unconsciousness.

Rigs breathing became slow and ragged. The girl only maintained her scissor hold on his head. Her ass still firmly planted against his face. Rigs’ hands were on her thighs still trying to pull them apart. But soon the resistance faded. The man was knocked out by the girl. But she held the hold for some time longer. His hands fell to his sides and his whole body tightened. After the tribal girl was satisfied she released the man’s lifeless body to fall to the forest ground. Rigs’ body fell with a thud, the life of this strong, trained, rugged man ended by a girl in her teens with no real training to speak of. The girl crouched over his body for sometime, watching the environment to make sure they hadn’t been spotted fighting.

Rising to her feet and stood with a foot on his back, still looking for more threats in the forest. Knowing that she was clear she crouched back over the man and checked his pulse. There was none. He was killed by a girl half his age and half his size in a physical brawl. She lowered herself further and removed his uniform’s Republic patch. She opened a small pouch on her belt and put the patch with the other 3 she had taken from killed prey. As she vanished into the forest. Bleeding, but victorious.
Attached Images
File Type: jpg Tribal1.jpg (123.5 KB, 283 views)
File Type: jpg Tribal2.jpg (133.5 KB, 220 views)

Last edited by Rkelly123; 18-Mar-17 at 03:43. Reason: Added photos and edited text
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  #2  
Old 19-Mar-17, 22:05
Stacyann Stacyann is offline
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Default Re: The Warden, The Tribal

I really enjoyed this story. You are a very good writer.
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Old 21-Mar-17, 08:54
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jiminy jiminy is offline
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Default Re: The Warden, The Tribal

Good stuff. I get a hard on for post-apocalyptic, dystopian future stories.
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