I like Lezvie and Angela and they seem to be popular and I find that their stories are easy to write, so here’s another short story of them. In case you’ve forgotten, since it has been a while, here’s the last thing of theirs I wrote: Lezvie’s Tale.
“You’re sure you won’t stay?”
Lezvie tightened one of the straps on his harness as he shook his head. “If the Crimson Dragon is real, then stopping it will end a great deal of the organized terrorism. Going after the source will be much more effective then just trying to handle the individual incidents.”
Jack nodded and stepped forward to clasp his hand. “Keep in touch, aye? It makes us nervous when we don’t hear from you for months on end, and especially now, since you have a much better idea of where to find the most dangerous enemies possible.”
“Don’t worry about me, Jack,” Lezvie replied with a chuckle as he returned the handclasp. “Angela won’t let anything happen to me.”
“‘Course I won’t.” Angela tossed her hair out of her eyes. “If I even considered letting him get himself injured, he’d jump headfirst into whatever it was that wanted to injure him.”
Rodrigo laughed. “She’s got your number for sure, Lezvie.”
Lezvie rolled his eyes. “Come on, Angela. We’re burning daylight.”
The two of them walked out across the plains, and the heavy doors of the Bunker slid shut behind them, the locks hissing as they sealed. Angela flashed Lezvie a grin. “On the road again. To tell you the truth, I didn’t much care for them. They were nice enough, but it’s just… weird, being around people after being alone for so long.”
“I understand completely. That’s why I never stay long with them. That, and I can’t exactly rid the world of the scum that populates it if I’m safely holed up in a bunker.”
Angela laughed. “Of course. Though isn’t it almost as hard to kill scum if you’re just wandering the wasteland aimlessly?”
“Who ever said we’re wandering aimlessly? I know exactly where we’re going.”
“Oh?” Angela arched one eyebrow. “And where is that?”
Lezvie put one arm around her shoulders and pointed towards the horizon. “You see that big mountain over there?”
“That’s where we’re going. I know a guy who lives there.”
“Who lives out in the desert on a random mountain?”
“A paranoid hermit who also happens to have some of the most advanced tech on the planet. He was a hermit before the aliens ever touched down, but he had the biggest net of contacts I ever knew of. During the invasion, he was constantly getting pieces of alien tech and integrating it into his own systems. He survived the Glassing and now watches the entire continent, and probably the entire world. If there’s an organized criminal group out there, he knows about it.”
Angela’s eyes were wide. “Wow. Why haven’t you gone to him before?”
Lezvie shrugged. “I didn’t think I needed to. I had no real reason to think the rumors about the Crimson Dragon could be true.”
“Hmm.” They walked in silence for several minutes. Then Angela asked, “What’s his name?”
“I don’t know, actually.” Lezvie shrugged again. “He goes by the psuedonym ‘The Master’.”
Angela snorted. “Arrogant much?”
“He’s earned it, though. There’s no system in the world better than his, and there wasn’t one before the Glassing, either. And machinery aside, he’s the most talented hacker in the world.”
Angela ‘hmm’ed again, and they walked in silence.
As the sun began to set, and after several quick breaks, consisting of a brief sit-down and a protein bar, they stopped under the overhang of what had been an old truck stop. Lezvie set up the windscreens and the artificial campfire while Angela prepared their food.
After a quiet meal, Angela settled down in her sleeping bag while Lezvie took first watch. They easily fell into the old routines; no discussion was necessary. It felt good to be on the road again.