Saul reached out from the spire he hung from. Stitches wrapped Saul’s hand in the crook of his arm and pulled him into the battered attic.

“Thanks” Saul muttered as he wiped burnt skin and blood from his palm. He untied some broken portions of armor that fell to the floor with a ‘clunk,’ before laying his beaten body to the floor. His head leaned back to the wall behind him and he closed his eyes with a sigh.

Scrap metal javelins and throwing axes decorated the walls and floor. Their loosely perforating points hung from the wooden boards like bunches of ivy.

Next to the window lay Felix’s still body. His jagged teeth were contorted in a horrid scream; a spear buried in his neck. A large sharpened pipe stuck out from his stomach, impaling him to the floor. A blanket was loosely draped over him, but the group was simply too tired to care otherwise.

Some loose feathers floated about with the breeze. Most of them landed and became stuck in some small pools of blood. Jay was nowhere to be found however.

Stitches flicked a switch, turning off the siren, “Annoying,” he grunted.

The sounds of gunfire, screaming and sirens echoed from the distance. The occasional moonlight, dully illuminated the attic as it pierced the floating clouds of ash. A small lantern sat lit on the floor flickering an orange glow through the weaving javelins.

In the corner, Witch flinched as Angel mended her body.

“Ah! Sorry…” Angel pulled her fingers away, took a breath and tried again, sinking her hands into her arm, “There’s a lot of pieces…”

“Yeah, I can feel it,” Witch grimaced.

“There! I got it all together for sure that time!” Angel smiled.

“Sure whatever…” Witch held her arm to her stomach and laid down, “I’m sleeping, wake me when we’re going back.”

Stitches raised a hand confirming he heard her. He sat slumped in Jay’s chair keeping watch over the ravaged wastes. The wind began burying the bodies in dust, the blood-stained ash returning to its dark grey color.

He pulled an axe from the chair and tossed it down. The breeze soon blanketed it, and it was gone.

Like nothing ever happened, he thought.

Saul groaned behind him as Angel examined his wounds.

Stitches hands wouldn’t stop trembling. The skin from the wrist down had been scorched black. His fingernails were warped and bruised, leaking blood. He attempted to flex his fingers and winced at the pain of in his joints.

“Sure hope the feeling comes back…” he muttered.

We got lucky. What would we have done if that truck didn’t arrive?

He sighed, The moment Jay left, we should’ve run. Why didn’t I realize she stopped firing?

Witch softly breathed under a handkerchief. Her hoodie enveloped her as she soundly slept.

Shoulda hit you back for breaking my nose, he groaned rubbing his swollen ear, the hell got you so worked up?

He spit, That whole thing was a mess beginning to end. If only I had my shit together from the start…

He groaned annoyed, “Hindsight, hindsight, I get it already!”

“What’s wrong?” Angel approached, removed an axe and sat in the window sill.

Stitches blew away a feather, “Nothing, I’m just a little pi-Ack!”

Angel reached her fingers into his face to repair his broken nose.

He held his breath and blinked rapidly, an odd taste developing in his throat. His hands floated in front of him twitching, unsure what to do.

She pulled her hand away and smiled.

Stitches took a breath through his nose, “Seriously, warn us before you do that.”

“Oh, sorry. Your voice sounded weird.”

Stitches turned away, “About before… with the pistol…”

“If we weren’t there, you would’ve done it, I know.”

He bit his lip, “I made you cry… I made you all think it was hopeless…”

Angel looked off into the wastes with him, “It wasn’t hopeless. You showed us that.”

He rested his elbows on the window sill, “I’m sorry… I was selfish.”

“You put on a brave face even though you were consumed by fear. You aren’t selfish,” her smile faltered for a moment, “because of you, we survived.”

“Maybe I only did it to survive…” he mumbled.

She stuck her tongue out at him, “You’re a good person despite that creepy face.”

Stitches laughed a little, “Thanks. I think.”

A flick stuck him in the temple, “I forgive you, so don’t do it again!” she pouted.

“I won’t…” he averted his eyes.

“Promise?” Her face became serious.

“Promise,” he met her gaze.

She smiled and extended a pinky.

He reached towards it but found his joints unbendable.

Angel wrapped her fingers in his and the shaking stopped.

A relieved sigh passed his lips, “So? How messed up are they?”

Angel felt around and thought for a moment, “You won’t lose your hands… but the sensation won’t come back. At least not soon…”

“And the skin?”

“It’ll peal off and scar over, from what I can tell the burns are only surface level,” she brushed his fingernail, “these won’t be here long either”

“Jeez… thanks for the bedside manner,” he rubbed his hands brushing off some skin, “How come it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

Angel shrugged, “Its interesting, your burns don’t affect the surrounding internal skin, just the external,” she looked away pondering the sky, “Metamorphs sure are a weird bunch.”

“Yea,” Stitches leaned out the window on his elbows but the dull sky had nothing to offer him, “Maybe we’ll finally find some answers here. I’m really going to miss the stars though… When I was a kid I used to try to stay up as long as I could, just to see a little more of them.”

His gaze lingered for a bit, “Well, I did that up until to a couple weeks ago actually… What’s your favori-hey!”

Angel not listening, reached around in his chest, “Huh?”

“We just talked about that,” he sighed.

“Sorry,” she began to press his ribs back into shape, “When you got hit with that javelin, I lost my composure,” a small tear formed in her eye and was immediately blinked away, “I did a rather poor job at sealing the hole,” her voice slightly shook, “I was just so overjoyed when your eyes opened.”

“You saved my life,” Stiches smiled, “Thank you for that,” He found himself wrapped in a hug, “Angel?”

“When I refilled your lungs,” her hands tightened on the fabric of his armor, “I was sure you were already gone.”

Stitches was unsure what to say, his hands reached out, hesitated then lightly patted her back.

She sat back on her knees and forced a smile, “It sure was a lot of work putting you all back together,” she sighed, “My heads going to start hurting soon, so I’d better sleep.”

Stitches smiled, “Go ahead, ill handle the watch.”

Angel lay down on her side using her arm as a pillow, her long legs tucked up towards her stomach.

The wastes continued to lay still. The breeze that caressed the ash had begun to pick up and roughly spray dust about. The distant gunfire had grown farther away, the sirens slowed to a gentle hum.

Stitches eyelids felt heavy but he would not allow himself to sleep. Whether it be from the physical exertion or the loss of blood, the fear of waking up back in that hell was enough to glaze his eyes.

 

Saul’s eyes adjusted, as flickers of sunlight approached over the horizon. The fragments of dust and ash flew through the air as wind ripped it from the ground and cast it into the sky. A pair of goggles and a piece of cloth wrapped Saul’s face to protect him from the storm. The attic’s walls shielded his team behind him from the weather.

It was morning, the sirens had stopped a couple minutes ago but occasional gunshots still rang out from the distance. A rifle, filthy with blood and ash soaked his hands and arms.

He squinted to study the wastes; nothing moved besides the flurry of black particles taking off from the dunes. To Witch’s instruction, he shouldered the rifle and fired on anything approaching from the distance. The large unseeable blobs that approached from the storm quickly leaped onto their hind legs and darted away as he pulled the trigger.

He couldn’t tell what they were, but he just wanted to go back to the couch in the apartment and sleep. It had been a long night, his bruises and chipped bones pulled him closer and closer to the floor. Angel only fixed his most vital injuries, his body still felt unbearably heavy.

He’d torn away all of his armor to keep himself standing up, it was mostly broken anyway. He sighed at the thought of buying a new set. The retailer he used was a rather odd fellow; when he finally left, he was just as confused as when he entered.

That old man won’t appreciate all his craftsmanship being broken… he thought.

His swords were completely trashed so he left them in the ash but his shield was probably salvageable, despite all the dents and punctures. He almost felt guilty about letting it sustain so much damage, it did its job well holding back those monsters.

A small creature began moving in the distance, Saul couldn’t tell what it looked like, only its general shape. He stood up and shouldered the rifle with his top set of arms, his lower set gripped the window sill, readying for the recoil. He took a half breath and centered the iron sights on the center of the target. His finger slowly squeezed the trigger.

‘Bang!’ the creature jumped off its feet before hurriedly scurrying away.

He sighed as he relaxed back into his seat. His hand reached up and shook ash from his hair. He enjoyed the peaceful quiet, even though he was still on watch; compared to the earlier trials, this was plenty enough rest for his mind.

Witch coughed a bit to his side. Her eyes looked tired as she slept away. Her antennae sat still in front of her hood but occasionally swished up and spun about. Saul wondered what she was dreaming of.

He smiled under his mask, she looked rather cute without her unapproachable aura. He’d caught a glimpse at her mouth, the mysterious lines and shapes attached to her lips under her handkerchief confused him.

Maybe her mouth splits open in an unusual pattern?

He scratched his chin, then found himself reaching for her mask.

She probably won’t mind if I have a peek

Suddenly he heard a noise from the distance and stood up. He heard it again, shouldering the rifle.

A honk? Maybe a truck?

He quickly scanned the horizon, then leaned out the window and scanned back and forth.

“Damn…” he couldn’t see a thing in this weather, it was simply too dusty. A dark blob approached from the left along the fence and Saul leveled his rifle.

If it was a truck he’d be firing on another person, but if it was a mutant of some kind, he’d surely regret letting it get close. His hands gripped the rifle tightly, he needed to choose, not just his life was on the line. His finger began to squeeze the trigger and another honk echoed from the shape.

He took a relieving breath and let the rifle down from his shoulder. He leaned on the window to wait for it to come closer but didn’t release the rifle form his grip.

Soon, a beaten jeep slowed to a stop in front of the watchpost and a voice called out from it. Through the wind it was a little dull but Saul could understand it somewhat.

“Where’s the WM?!” the voice shouted.

“WM?! You mean Jay?!” Saul shouted back.

“Jay?! Yeah! Her!”

“She ran off!”

“Who are you?!”

“Uhh,” Saul scratched some ash from his hair, “We were assigned to deal with the ground! The spotter guy! Felix! He’s dead!”

“Got it!” a pause, “Ok! Hold tight! We’ll be back to relieve you!” The jeep sprayed dust behind it as it crawled away.

Saul sat back, How much longer are we supposed to stay here? Isn’t it over by now?

Witch approached and grabbed a pair of goggles resting on an ammunition box before getting closer, “What’s going on? You’re loud.”

Saul turned to her, “Hey Witch, it’s over, right? We get to go back soon, right?”

“How would I know? I was sleeping up until now,” she leaned on the wall besides the window sill and looked off into the spinning wastes, “did you suddenly turn back into a coward?”

Saul sighed, “You’re much nicer when you’re just sleeping. Shouldn’t you wait till Angel takes her shift before you get up?”

“Mind your business, I’m a light sleeper anyways,” her eyes narrowed.

Saul didn’t respond, his eyes sat still on the dust, “What if we died down there, and we’re all just waiting in purgatory?”

Witch crossed her arms, “Don’t be stupid, we’re still breathing,” she tugged at her handkerchief, “I’ve had closer calls…”

Saul didn’t believe her, he saw her moment of weakness just like everyone else, “You were on the bus with the rest of us, right?”

“Yes?”

“I didn’t see you, are you a red stripe like Stitches?”

She tugged her hood to hide her face, “You just didn’t look hard enough.”

Saul looked down towards the rifle in his arms, “Witch… I can tell you’re not like most, we can survive here can’t we?”

Witch didn’t answer, she stared at his worried face and flicked her antennae.

“Witch?”

“You have potential,” she pulled an axe from the wooden board she leaned on and tossed it into the ash, “If you didn’t, you’d be dead,” she rocked away from the wall and walked back to her sleeping corner.

“Thanks,” Saul smiled.

 

A voice called through the bellowing ash storm from behind. Angel approached from her post and threw down the rope ladder. She was hoping to be relieved, the shapes that approached from the distance were too far in the wind for her bow to hit and the rifle was beginning to bruise her shoulder.

A cloaked man wearing rags tied around his face and small safety goggles climbed up before dropping a bag to the ground with a sigh.

“Ah! Finally! That storm is getting intense!”

“Are we being relieved?”

“Straight to the point huh?” He unzipped his bag and passed her a raggedy robe, “Yea I’ll be taking over. Make sure you and your crew cover up. The repulsion system got hit in the attack so the weathers hitting in full effect.”

Angel wrapped the robes over her body, “Is it dangerous?”

He wandered to the seat and checked the rifle, “Na, just stings like a bitch,” he pulled the ammo box closer and replaced the bullets in the magazine, “Make sure you guys follow the buildings back, don’t wanna get lost.”

Angel kneeled and rubbed Stitches shoulder, rousing him from his sleep.

“Huh? What’s up?” he drowsily muttered.

“We can go back now,” she didn’t bother smiling under the robe’s concealment.

Stiches tossed away some unusable gear and sorted through his equipment as Angel woke Saul next.