The Badlands
Around a small fire sit a group of men and women. Made up of scouts of the Unified Nations they listen with rapt attention to one who is a leader among them. Beyond them with clear senses and solid nerves, searching the darkness stand the guards, warriors of the highest caliber, taught from birth to be proud of their heritage, trained from the onset of the end to be stalwart, brave, and fearless. Conditioned to look a demon in the eye and destroy it. Efficient quiet killers. From all corners of the great nation, the former United States, they came with their tribes to the Badlands in hopes of finding means to save their people. Under the guidance of one of their own, a man known among all, a man trained by the United States in the art of war, they united. They fought the government to a standstill. However, many lives were lost to THEM.
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Civil War. That's what some called it. Others terrorism. It all depends on their perspective. We call it Freedom. We fought for months, the government refusing to back down. I can't really blame them. We were declaring that the land they were on was ours as we were its first inhabitants. They claimed it theirs by virtue of being the government. Turns out we were both wrong. It was THEIRS. THEY overtook both sides. While we were busy fighting one another THEY came in and nearly eradicated us. It happened in ones and twos at first, a private on their side, a young warrior on ours. Then the tides turned in THEIR favor. There started to be more of THEIR spawn in the Army field hospital and in our infirmary then there were people to look after and care for them. It didn't matter whether it was a single tooth breaking the skin or an all-out mauling the effect was always the same. Death then reanimation. The only x-factor was the time it took. A small bite could take hours, in several cases days, and a severe wound near instantaneous.
The Elders claimed it was the vengeful spirits of the dead coming back to punish those who abused the land. Even Spirit scoffed at that. After listening to the Elders who claimed to have spoken with the ancestors of the many tribes he said, 'I have experienced many events during my time; birth, death, love, hate. But this is the first time I have felt fear. Pure fear. These things are evil. They are no spirits. They are spiritless. They have no being within. They are hollow shells with no purpose other than death.' The tribal elders couldn't believe the words of Spirit. Eventually, they had no choice but to listen.
Now, we are no longer "Native Americans" as there is no longer an America. We are one tribe.
Our tribal identities were the hardest to let go of. Seminoles, Apache, Iroquois, Sioux, Crow, all the Nations together. All believe their customs, traditions, and identities are the greatest. Many nights, Spirit and I spent hearing and settling personal disputes between groups of young warriors full of stubborn pride. We can no longer afford individual identities. In time we taught them that, if we are to survive, we must be as one.
On the eve of the 5th anniversary of our Freedom, we find ourselves still at war. Yet we continue. We thrive. Our enemy has changed. The federal agents and National Guard are still here. Only now, they are the walking dead. They have become more dangerous. Once the death from their weapons was permanent. Now they add to their ranks.