A colossal greyish dune reflected a distant sunset. The golden rays of light broke free from the receding clouds of sand and stretched over the horizon. Underneath, a decrepit industrial town sprawled out from its base, still half buried in an ancient layer of ash. Collapsed brick and toppled smokestacks crisscrossed concrete apartments and rusted chemical vats. Shoddy pipelines and downed power pylons connected the remains together like a withered skeleton.
On the dune, a winded Saul huffed his way to the edge. A sigh of relief moistened his head wrappings and he removed his goggles before catching his breath. The air was remarkably clear and the view made him wish he brought a camera.
Angel made her way up next; her breathing was calculated and precise as she methodically scaled the hill. She placed her bag into the sand and calmed her fatigue, lifting her arms above her head and breathing through her nose.
Saul still slumped over panting managed some words, “Damn fine -huff- view huh? -puff-”
Angels scanned the buildings, her curiosity peaked by the aspect of forgotten technology, “The sandstorms are weird here; they should follow some kind of weather pattern but we just got buffeted out of nowhere. Now here we are staring at clear skys,” she flicked sand from her hair as she removed her hood.
Saul thought for a moment, the slivers of the sunset kissed the horizon, “Maybe that makes the couple times like these kinda special right? If it was round the clock sunny we probably wouldn’t care.”
Angel thought for a moment, “I guess you’re correct, I was thinking more of the abnormality however,” she smiled, “Heheh, those two slowpokes are gonna miss it if they don’t hurry.”
Saul laughed, “They must’ve never gone hiking before,” he half stretched, half struck a pose, “Aint got the uphill stamina like us athletic folks,” he grinned.
Angel thought for a moment, “want to race downhill?”
“Sure!”
“Want to bet on it?”
“Nope!”
Stitches crested the hill, his sweat drenched face rags half hanging from his face. He found a spot and quickly sat, gasping for air. He sunk into his backpack straps as he pulled away the overheating sand gear, letting the goggles drop into the ash by his side.
He was soon joined by Witch in even worst shape, tossing her bag to the ground and taking a shaky drink from her lukewarm canteen before laying back with an “Ugh.”
“Hey,” Saul called, “You guys should see this sunset.”
Angel put her hands on her hips, “I told you both not to gulp your water or you’d cramp.”
Stitches glared still out of breath. Witch, too tired to turn and look, simply raised her favorite finger.
The sun disappearing under the horizon left behind a red glare that soon became faded by a newly forming sandstorm.
Stitches got up with a grunt, “Buildings down there will have to do for shelter. How do we get down?” He wrapped his robe and reapplied his face wrap as the cloud of ash began to absorb the structures below.
Angel pulled her bag onto her shoulders, “We could slide down the dune as long as we don’t tumble or gain too much speed,” a competitive look gleamed in her eye, “might be fun beating you all again.”
Saul laughed, “You wish! I still got energy to spare!”
Witch groaned, “Do we have to? I’m so sick of this dust.”
“You need a head start or something?” Saul tightened his goggles.
Witch briefly thought of pushing Saul off the edge wondering if he could tumble and get hurt just enough to make her feel better but still be fine enough for her to play it off as a joke.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Stitches grumbled before stepping over, careful not to lose his balance. He began to slide as he shifted his weight forwards making sure to hold himself up with his hand as his feet slipped through the course grey sand.
“Hey he said I get the… Whatever...” Witch sighed and began her descent.
Angel got a jumping start, staggering slightly as she balanced herself, “Wheeeeeeee!” she cheered as she gained speed.
Saul laughed, “that’s the spirit,” he followed her lead and soon caught up.
The crew quickly slid down towards the ruins, the ash in their trails slowly rolling down the dune behind them.
The bottom approaching, Angel leaned forward and eventually broke into a downward run.
Saul followed suit catching on her tail, “Heheh no you don’t!” his foot falls plunging deeper than Angels caused him to trip and slide onto his knees, “Aw,” he groaned.
“Yes! Haha I win again!” Angel cheered. Distracted, she lost her balance and faceplanted with an “Oof!”
Witch, catching up, laughed meanly, “Keep digging! Your trophys down there somewhere!”
Angel pulled herself out of the loose sand. “Ack!” she spit, shaking the ash out of her goggles.
Stitches came to a stop with a yawn, “How are yall still wired after that hike? Did you sneak some baggies from that droolin guy? That aint fancy sugar you know.”
“Gotta enjoy the little things right?” Saul brushed the ash from his clothes.
Stitches walked ahead, “Sure, I’m really gonna enjoy this nap,” he tugged his backpack straps, “walking around in all this grey bullshit is really taking it out of me.”
Witch examined the buildings, “If we’re camping here, we need a defensible position that’s subtle but still allows us to monitor our surroundings.”
Stitches wrapped his hand in cloth and widened a broken window, “Be nice to have multiple means of escape if something happened but I’m not sure we can be picky with the sun going down,” he flashed a light inside, the wide brick interior sat mostly stripped and bare, piles of ash filling in the floor through the many holes in the ceiling.
“Better picky than dead, but I agree, trying to find shelter in the dark would be dangerous. The flashlight could attract unwanted attention,” Witch used her elbow to crack open the window from a partially buried building.
Saul approached, “hey what about that office in there?”
“Stupid,” Witch muttered.
“Think we could get into the sewers?” Stitches pondered.
“Ugh,” Witch grimaced, “Alleyways are so much better.”
Stitches shrugged, “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“What about the apartment building over there,” Angel pointed to a concrete stack of rooms connected by a collapsed stairwell. It, like other buildings was buried to its midsection but the units were held mostly intact by its supports.
“What did we just say dumbass?” Witch sighed, “One way out and not subtle at all.”
Angel crossed her arms, “Which is why we use the furniture inside to block the windows and doors and then break through the floors and walls to allow us multiple ways in and out,” she smiled proudly.
“Uh…” Witch scratched her head.
“That’d work, right Stitches?” Saul asked.
Stitches pondered a moment, “Probably? Yeah probably; let’s get going before that storm catches us” he quickened his pace, “Nice thinking Angel.”
Witch sighed, “Guess I can’t think of a reason against it…” trudging forward.
The apartment was empty, save for some furniture too heavy or unwieldy to move in a hurry. The interior was mostly clean despite the yellowing appearance of aging paint. The door was cheaply made and easy to kick in but that was unneeded as it was left open. The floor had collected a layer of dust and trash that cushioned the feet of those working inside. Saul grunted as he kicked through the cheap drywall. The neighboring apartment responded with a spurt of dust causing Saul to choke and spit.
“Careful of asbestos,” Witch chuckled as she dragged a table to the window, “well, something will probably kill you before cancer gets its chance.”
Saul shivered and responded with another kick, knocking a larger chunk out of the plaster. Inside the apartment were piles of knickknacks magazines and photos. Dirty plates and trash littered the floor and every flat surface. Piles of items seemingly valuable to the owner towered to the ceiling and cramped the room. Saul grimaced as the homes smell began to drift through the wall.
Stitches leaned on a doorframe, “if youre done picking on saul I could use help opening this floor up.”
Witch rolled her eyes, “just joking around.” She meandered over, “floors tile, how do you expect to get through?”
“Shitty apartment floors like these are paper thin,” he passed her an axe, “I brought a bunch of different tools for this job,” he picked up a pickaxe and stretched his shoulders, “yknow, this line of work aint much different from thievery.”
Witch grunted in agreement and used the back of her axe to crack the tile and lift up a section with a crackle. Underneath they met particle board with crosslays of wooden beams. “One difference is the lack of humans getting in our way.”
Stitches let down the pickaxe and used its leverage to snap away parts of the particle board, “nah, they’re still there,” he grunted as he ripped away the bits of wood, “just covered in ash and grilling people meat.”
“Atleast they’re willing to do the jobs themselves. Most humans are fucking cowards,” she let down the axe hard with a growl. It broke through and she almost lost it in the floor downstairs before pulling it up.
Stitches flicked on his flashlight and looked inside, “lovely, another hoarder home.”
“Anything useful?”
“Probably not,” he sighed, “ol Nana Mary was like that. Just piling shit up in her house until she was buried in it.” His pickaxe bit into the floor and he grunted as he ripped another chunk loose, “lovely woman, but places like these take people in and a certain atmosphere corrupts their spirit.”
Witch huffed as she snapped through a wooden beam, “you have a thing for mature ladies?”
Stitches chuckled, “the nicest humans I ever met were the old people living in my shitty apartment,” he used his foot to kick a piece of floor loose, “must’ve been something different in their generations upbringing; something that made them more accepting.”
“Trust,” she used the back of the axe to crank the wooden beam away from the floor, “all those movies and books during their time about trust and community and coming together and shit,” she smirked, “easiest generation of people to steal from, won’t even get in trouble when you’re caught if you look hungry and start crying.”
“Doubt that worked for you after childhood. Nothing innocent in those eyes.”
Witch paused, “…live and adapt,” she cracked away more tile somewhat lost in thought.
Saul interrupted with an excited grin, “Guys! Guys!” he yelled.
Witch shushed him harshly
Saul quieted his voice, “sorry, but you gotta see this!”
The neighboring room’s smell centered on a black crumpling skeleton rotting into a couch. Its shoes and clothes seemed to meld into the remaining flesh till they were one. A cartoon rat, somehow still distinguishable, smiled cheerfully on the corpse’s chest. The eyes were centered on a tv, underneath which, Saul proudly displayed a rifle.
Stitches examined the steel of the gun, “not rusted out, good condition, no wood rot, nice find man,” he smiled.
Witch flicked the wire lock hanging from the receiver, “isn’t it useless with this still attached?”
Saul grinned, “you can pick locks right Stitches?”
“I might, you’ll still need to find the ammo for it,” he looked around “maybe in the dudes closet.”
“After you finish your work,” Witch interjected, “I don’t see the point. They’ll confiscate it once we get back.”
“And if we stash it?” Saul held the rifle close.
“Not a bad idea,” Stitches pondered for a moment, “if we get a good stash going off the compound we can use more ammo and better weapons on expeditions while skirting around their equipment checks.”
“Unless,” Witch crossed her arms, “it gets buried by the ash and never found, it gets found by someone else, it gets found by someone who knows it’s ours and we get in trouble, it gets found by someone who uses it on us, or it gets found by someone who uses it as a trap for us and kills us all.”
Saul groaned, “why are you such a downer?”
Stitches chuckled, “yeah Witch, let the boy have his fun,” he ruffled Saul’s hair.
Witch rolled her eyes and walked away, “Idiots.”
A whistle rung out and interrupted them, their faces hardened and they dropped low, silencing their steps towards the main room.
Angel slowly closed the door, intensely focusing on muffling the sound of the latch as she released the door handle.
Stitches opened his mouth to speak but Angel shook her head pointing to the back room where they had opened the hole.
Minutes passed, then an hour. All the while Angel stared towards the door. She was statuesque, her breathing barely quivering her shoulders. Behind her, Stitches held his pistol by his side, finger off the trigger. He looked only at Angel, trusting her senses to warn him of approaching danger. Saul and Witch sat nearby, boring of the standoff about 15 minutes in. They didn’t make a sound however, limply holding their cheap pistols and waiting for the waiting to end. Neither of them ever had any experience with a gun but after their last bought, lessons were learned on conserving energy above all else.
Angel’s shoulders loosened and she slid her small revolver into her holster. She smiled towards them and held a thumbs up, “I think we’re ok,” she whispered, “let’s keep it down for the rest of the night.”
Stitches nodded, “We got enough connections anyways,” he whispered, “ Saul got all the rooms around us opened up, Witch covered all windows and I got holes in the floor we can take cover in. The downstairs portion is buried by ash so we won’t have to worry about light getting out.”
Angel nodded, “Good time to get a napski.”
Saul cleared his throat silently, “what did you see out there?”
“Not seen, heard. Too close for comfort,” her brow furrowed.
Witch sighed, “You heard something in the middle of a sandstorm? Something fell dumbass, it happens.”
Angel smiled meanly, “It might seem that way to someone as… untalented as you but I can however discern the difference between objects and flesh.”
“Untalented?” Witch scoffed.
“Enough.” Stitches interrupted, “What did you hear Angel?”
“About 100 yards from us, it sounded like something large jumping off of something metal. Oddly enough, I didn’t hear it land,” Angel brought her fingers to her chin, thinking.
Saul yawned, “it flew away then? So sad we couldn’t meet. I’m gonna get that napski,” he carefully lowered himself into the hole carrying his backpack.
Witch followed suit, “if there’s a bed its mine,” she demanded.
Stitches tapped Angel snapping her out of a trance, “What are you thinking?”
Angel sighed, “Nothing… maybe Sauls right. Whatever it was, its far away from here by now. I would have heard something if I was wrong.” The tension didn’t leave her face however as she gathered her bag.
