Chapter 5: “The Bright City”

 

 

            Sam stood with her back against the door.  Thinking about the conversation she’d had with Sarah, it may have only been an hour, but it felt like the night was already over – packed as it was.  As Sam walked to the kitchen she glanced at analogue clock on the wall, taking a moment to translate it.  It was only eight, Sam normally stayed up until ten or later, preferring to rise after dawn.

 

Sam hoped that the fire was still going, as 'well' as things had gone with Sarah, they had originally planned to have their last fire before winter.  Looking out through the back window revealed Michael’s lone figure sitting by the fire.  Sweet.

Grinning, she was about to step outside when she remembered her sweatshirt was still upstairs.  Not wanting to take any chances of letting him slip away, Sam poked her head out back and called out to Michael - feeling the cool air press against her through the opened door as she did.  “Hey, I’ll be right back out.  Can I beer you?”

 

Michael glanced at her over his shoulder before reaching down to hold up two beers with their caps still on.  “I wasn’t sure you were gonna come back out but looks like I bet correctly.”

Sam grinned, “Be right there,” and closed the door.  This was a pleasant surprise, though she couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was attributed to the coma weakness and extended hospital stay instead of Michael suddenly having a younger sister to dote on.  On her way out of the kitchen though she almost ran straight into her dad.  Even with her sensitive ears, when there wasn’t something underfoot to creak and give away his steps – he was surprisingly agile on his feet.

 

“Woah there.”  John grinned, practically picking Sam up by the shoulders and setting her down next to him as he arrested her movement.  “Where are you off to so quickly?  Don’t get me wrong, its good to see you being lively again.”

Sam’s tail waved impatiently behind her, as her long ears drifted to their neutral stance after the shock of being grabbed made them lie flat against her head passed.  “Michael and I are going to sit by the fire and have some beers… Want to join us?”  Sam didn’t hold out much hope, her dad stuck to his sleep schedule and it was about that time of the night for him.

He scratched his rough goatee before shaking his head.  “Sorry Sam, honestly if you’d asked me earlier, I would have.  I don’t think I really made much progress on that order today anyways.”

 

The process to rebuild some vehicles was very intensive.  Unless one found a car that had been in some sort of storage like a garage or warehouse, then most of the vehicle’s structure had usually rotted and rusted away over the years.  Sam wasn’t the best mechanic, something Michael had a keen mind for but never her.  And so between Michael and John, they ran the shop almost exclusively.

Sam was more inclined to learn to learn about battle, to her, there was something thrilling about the idea of combat, of a battle executed as she pushed her abilities to their absolute limits as she walked the knifes edge between life and death. Privy to both sides, yet master of neither – only that essence of change she could bring with a sweeping blow or the recoil of her rifle.  It was more than that, it was the way one had to Marshall themselves to even approach that hilltop.  Sam strived to develop that kind of willpower and determination.

 

“How bad is this one?” Sam asked mostly out of courtesy, she had faith her father wouldn’t accept a job he couldn’t handle, and frankly beyond hearing about their pride she couldn’t bring herself to care too much.  She never really get what they saw.  When they looked at the rusted heap of ancient metal and plastic they saw purpose, but when Sam looked at it, she saw junk.

“Well, the frame is all rotted, supposedly it was Kevin’s favorite car back in the day when they made them, I told him it’d take a month or two at best before I could have it anywhere near drivable.  You know what he said?” 

Sam shook her head, but smiled.  She may not care too much about the mechanics of cars, but she could humor her father.

“That crazy guy just said ‘you could take a year and I’d still be happy.’” John paused and shook his head ruefully.  “Its been a loong time since I made custom work for anyone, I don’t know if I can give him what he really wants.  I know him, car guy type.  Back in the day we had things called muscle cars, Sam – big grumbly fuckers.  Crazy horsepower – and the sound they made, music.”  John sighed in nostalgia, smiling wistfully.  “I was a car guy too.  I actually stole a muscle car after the convergence and had a joyride until it ran out of gas…  It bothered me for days that I hadn’t thought to fill her up at all.”

It said something about her dad’s moral compass or at least his heart, that even after ninety percent of people died, he still considered it stealing to drive an ownerless vehicle.  Their new society looked at the old world around them, the remnants of a golden age, and oft trekked out into it in solemnity.  All around them were the gilded triumphs of man - theirs to reclaim, but it was also the graveyard of humanity.  Every time Sam had gone with her father to clear a new path they would make sure to scatter the ashes of any unburied dead, she’d long lost count of the amount she helped to burn.  It was morbid, but Sam knew that she’d laid more people to rest over her short few years on the road with her father than she’d actually met – let alone even knew.

It was actually a quiet motivator for her.  Surrounded by the bones of their people, what remained of humanity hid behind walls, huddled together.  Sam wanted to protect them, to deny the world from fulfilling its promise of death.

 

“Car guy?  I suppose that makes sense with the family business being half about engines and a quarter about cars.”  Said Sam as she glanced back over her shoulder to the fire outside.

“Ah! Sorry Sammie, don’t let me keep you, I’m tired anyways.  I just wanted some water before bed.”

As John walked past Sam he paused and seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking anyways, turning back to face Sam from the sink as he came to a rest.  “Sam, I heard Sarah earlier.  How did that go?  Do you want to talk?”

Sam shook her head, “Not really.  We're through though and I haven't figured out how I feel just yet...  Thanks for asking though dad.”  John looked like he was going to say something, but didn’t, instead turning to fill his glass, but when he turned back Sam was gone.

 

Sam rejoined Michael by the fire a few minutes later, wearing her light blue sweater again.  He promptly passed her a beer as she sat down with a light huff.

“Thanks,” Sam smiled sweetly at Michael, accepting the beer.

After some time passed in silence, Michael cleared his throat awkwardly before he spoke.  “Sorry… About earlier, for barging in I mean. I didn’t see anything.  And I just thought after I didn’t see you or Sarah that you might be upset.”

Sam laughed at Michael’s grave expression and let him dangle in the air for a moment before she caught him.  “Ehh, you saw, you definitely saw.  I saw you see, or did you not see me seeing that you saw?”  Sam rattled off playfully.

 

“Thanks for the cookies, though.  That kinda made up for the embarrassing moment.”  Sam added.  “But, Sarah was right – you can’t barge into my room anymore.”  Michael nodded, taking a swig from his beer while he sat looking like he wanted to say something.  Sam waited, she assumed he planned to ask about Sarah, as she let him formulate his question.

 

But before Michael could offer a reply or begin to ask about Sarah, the night sky light up.  A beautiful white-gold flair hung in the sky, followed shortly after by several more, silently streaking through the air to create enough light to illuminate the streets below clearly.  As they hung in the air quietly Michael shot to his feet, dropping his beer bottle with a clatter, spilling its contents.

“Sam, let’s go.”  Sam nodded, she knew what this meant.  She stood, following after Michael as he started towards the house.  But as they walked, the sirens began.

Sam froze in step before catching herself, staggering as she reached up to clutch her ears in pain while squinting her eyes.  Gasping, she doubled over.  Sam saw Michael’s feet do an about-face as he came back over to her and quickly scooped her up.

He said something but Sam couldn’t hear his words anymore over the cacophony of sirens that were screaming into the night, filling the air like a discordant chime from the different sirens placed around the city’s walls.  Michael swiftly brought her into the house, the sensory overload having paralyzed her.  Sam kept her hands pressed over her ears and her eyes squinted shut.

 

Sam could barely remember the last time their settlement was attacked, she was only a small child.  But she remembered her father coming back from the walls, exhausted and caked in dried blood.  She had been too young, too proud of him to understand the fear everyone felt.  But now she was older – now she understood the gravity of those sirens.

 

Inside the house was only marginally better, but it was enough that Sam could let go of her ears without feeling agony anymore.  Michael set her down, looking stressed, and they were quickly joined by their father in the kitchen.

“Ahem. Alright guys this is what we practice for.  Sam, Michael, go get the car ready, pack your stuff, and wear your best travel clothing.  Don’t go anywhere.  Don’t leave the house.  And don’t let anyone inside.  If those sirens stop without the all-clear alert, then you guys need to leave.  In that case go, take the northeastern route, cross the bridge we built last spring and if nobody is following you, then blow that sucker up.  Don’t take chances here.” 

John looked worried for a brief moment as he looked back and forth between his two children, taking a deep breath before he pulled them both into a bear hug.

“I must go to the walls now.  I’ll do my best to come back.  I love you both; be good to each other while I am away.”

“Stay safe, dad.  I’ll protect Sammie.”

 

 

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LIAM

-

 

            Liam’s ragged breaths weren’t the only sounds he could hear as he sprinted through the nighttime forest.  All around him he could hear the yips and snarls of the man-eater pack his group had bumped into.  They were a type of monster that while preferred people, would eat almost anything, hence the name.  They took on the appearance of a tall wolf, as long and tall as a bear, but thin and agile.  Their thin silhouette made them especially hard targets on the move, and so Liam had yet to take any shots.

Liam looked out through a gap in the trees and spotted a familiar landmark.

Two miles out.  You can do this Liam – we can’t let Samuel find out you couldn’t even make it home after dark!  The image of his best friend mocking him surfaced, managing to bring a small smile to his face amidst his flight.

 

But Liam was nearing the end of his rope, despite his endurance – near super-human by modern standards, he had been on the run from this pack since dawn when his party was ambushed.  They had camped the night before; Liam was hoping to gain more experience out in the field and had tagged along with this scavenging expedition somewhat last minute.  But never could he have expected the vicious ambush that awaited them come first light.

 

As Liam ran, he thought back to the morning.  He felt ashamed to be fleeing, but the fight was over before he even got out of his tent, the dying cries of his new acquaintances the only warning he had gotten.  Liam had barely escaped with his life, managing to fire off a round at the closest beast before he took off sprinting.  

After a few minutes Liam thought he managed to finally pull some distance between himself and the pack as their snarls and yips had faded some minutes ago.  But he didn’t slow for a moment.  His legs felt heavy like lead, but he pressed on.

Up ahead of him, still shrouded by darkness and hidden by foliage, Liam heard the sound of fast-moving water.  A plan started to formulate in his mind.  He didn’t really think he could outrun a pack and he didn’t know why they had seemed to lose interest suddenly, but they didn’t earn their name by only taking the weak.  If that was the case, then every monster could be a man-eater.  

As the stream came into view, Liam hesitated for the first time since the chase started.  This was quite literally a crossroads for him.  This could be the gamble that takes or gives him life.  Running up this stream would keep him perpendicular to his destination, in addition to sapping his strength more than running on land.  But it would give him a chance to throw them off his trail.  Needless to say, if this didn’t work, he wouldn’t have the strength to make it home. 

 

But as Liam deliberated, the hounds arrived.  Liam turned, watching as three lanky wolves broke through the edge of the clearing he just passed, but he knew there are more that he probably hadn’t noticed yet.  They were bear sized black wolves; their yellow eyes gleaming with sinister intelligence.  The leader snarled as it took a step forward towards him, but Liam knew to stand his ground – showing any weakness while surrounded meant the whole pack would pounce - and Liam was certain that he was.  Abruptly Liam drew the heavy revolver from his holster on his right hip and fired a round through the wolf’s snout, shattering its mouth into mashed paste as it recoiled in pain, its snarl turning into the maimed whimpers of a beast.  Shit, I missed.

Liam spun as the sound of a twig snapping behind him broke through the ringing in his ears and tested his abilities yet again.  This time, he didn’t miss.  With a ‘crack’ Liam felt his revolver kick as the man-eater’s yellow eyes stained red due the burst blood vessels from the massive head trauma.  Its body rag-dolled to the ground lifelessly, its leg spasming with its death throes.  Three rounds left.

 

Liam panted from the long sprint and adrenaline surging through his system and spun again, keeping his revolver in his trained-ready position, but there was nothing there except trees and some spattered blood.  Liam hadn’t wanted to use a flashlight during his flight as he figured that only made it easier to see him in the dark, in addition he wanted to preserve his night vision.  But now was battle.

Liam thumbed the switch on his handgrip and just like that, a lance of pure white LED light cut through the darkness from the attachment, blinding anything dumb enough to be looking at him right now.  Liam used the weapon light like a searchlight of death, slowly making a circle before noticing a pair of reflective yellow eyes peering back out at him from some bushes.  Close.  Too close.

Liam chuckled pensively as he leveled his revolver out.  “I don’t know if its my ringing ears, or if you guys really are that fucking quiet.  But I don’t like it.”

With a crack Liam put another down, but try as he might, he couldn’t spot any more.  Figuring this was the best chance he’d get, Liam quickly replaced the spent rounds, making sure to keep the casings.  Back to six.

Liam allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, the fear he had been denying himself diminished with each round he replaced.  But likewise it grew whenever he fought.  His childhood friend, Samuel, was always a natural in close quarters; but Liam could never quite get over his own fear.  Engaging at range he had the ability to make mistakes and still learn from them, but in a close engagement… one mistake would often cost someone their life.

 

In the distance, towards his destination, quietly at first but then gaining in intensity the wailing sound of discordant chimes began to eerily drift through the woods, causing a cold chill to run along Liam’s back and arms as goosebumps erupted and new fear blossomed. 

The city is under attack, and I’m stuck outside!

 

 

 

 

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(VOLUME WARNING)

For those of you wondering, I was thinking of this as I wrote the scenes with the sirens: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aOyopQ48Wp4  

but only until the 45 second mark and then let it loop around in your mind a little. 

I know sirens aren’t really badass normally irl but idk, I wanted a little pizzaz.