| WARNING: PROFANITY FOLLOWS |
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| The following content contains profanity that may not be suitable for readers of all ages. Please proceed with caution. |
OMNICORP PRESENTS...
DIRECTED BY: THE AWESOME JACK
WRITTEN BY: THE AWESOME JACK
SCORED BY: THE AWESOME JACK
SKETCH OF SIN
Track: Red Rover-Secession Studios
5 years ago...
Darkness. A deep, smooth voice begins speaking.
[Voice]: Our universe was corrupted for eons.
Cut to two aliens mugging a pregnant woman, who attempts to notify bystanders with her helpless echoes, then one of the criminals bluntly stab her in the stomach as her eerie shrieks pierce the cold, hollow night.
[Voice]: I, myself, contributed to sins. I am a sinner...I'm probably going to sin again.
A silhouette passes a small bag of a foreign drug to a smaller, rounder alien.
[Voice]: I've confessed my wrong doings. My morality changed. I grew to love one of my friends. We had mutual losses. We considered friends to be family. Death was unsettling. We resorted to..to a sanctuary. To Zenith.
An open field, life wallowed in the mud huddled between the shards of thin, elongated yellow grass. Countless trees bend over, as if they were men aching in a marring back pain.
[Voice]: It was full of..dreams. Celestial....bucolic. A sense of awe. The foundation was to get away from crime, from sinning. I built it from the ground.
A shot panning of the community mid-construction. Hammers pound down onto boards as the willows of flames trickle onto the soon-to-be-roasted meat which was to be devoured.
[Voice]: Life grew here, we learned to love it. No one was forced to stay. No one wanted to leave. There was an understanding that there was no balance. No balance of light, or dark. Of good....or evil. But we all know there must be a balance of right and wrong. So...darkness soon fell upon us.
Cut to a man tearing down the walls. He unleashes a low, loud growl as his muscular arm crashes onto the ground, causing it to rumble a little. Shrieks of fear and despair fill the warm, moist air as blood splatters everywhere.
[Voice]: The force overtook us. Killed my wife.....left me broken...We called this tragedy Morningstar because even in the midst of darkness, a glimpse of hope and faith led us to rebuild ourselves.
A dark room, softly illuminated by a burning candle living its last few moments with the wick kindled what felt like centuries ago. Snax, revealed to be the voice, looks down, his wrist covered in scars. He brushes his fur over it, attempting to hide this struggle of his. A sniffle escapes as he pats down the fur, wincing as scabs tear open. Someone is across the table, but the candle's gleam doesn't reach their face.
[Snax]: I led you to greatness. We started something great. These people here, they are our family. But after-after Morningstar. I am no longer able to lead these people. I am a broken man. They say time heals you but it doesn't. There are some things I don't understand. Inside, there's nothing. I'm like a hollow shell. Marge, in the midst of anarchy, you came through. You helped this people, motivated them to go on. I know the future of Zenith. I'm not part of that future. You are..you now, are the leader of Zenith.
Marge leans forward, scratching her chin, being the woman across the table. The anger boils in her mind as she considers the brim words spoken by the morose man.
[Marge]: No...no! I'm not letting you just..just waste away! You are the founder, the leader, we need you more than you need us. People look up to you, they respect you. What would Gunny want you to do?
[Snax]: She made this. Not me. Don't tell me that you need me, because you don't! I was helpless. Morningstar broke me. I have no reason for living anymore.
[Marge]: What about your son? You're just gonna leave the damn boy with no parents!? Snax, you're sounding crazy. The boy will already be screwed up, why contribute to it? If you go through with this, you better find someone else to lead.
Snax angrily pounds his fist onto the wooden desk, chipping off the corner as a small cloud of dust puffs up. As his anger continues boiling, his claws slowly extend.
[Marge]: What? You're going to hurt me?
Snax grits his teeth, pulling back his claws.
[Snax]: Zenith will crumble into chaos with no leader. It will ruin the whole purpose of its creation. Her death will be in vain.
Marge begins screaming as she attempts to contain her bawling.
[Marge]: Why me? Why not Scotty, or Ashas? Or even goddamn Chandler? You picked me! Why? A few years ago, I was a helpless little girl living in my daddy's arms. I am not a leader. Snax, I was terrified during Morningstar and I'm terrified now. These things shouldn't happen here. We were suppose to be safe but we're not. We thought we were ready by we aren't. I'm not ready, for any of this! So...why me!?
Snax ponders this for a minute, chewing on his finger nails.
[Snax]: It wasn't Scott, Ahsas or Chandler who made the beaten down, wounded people here rebuild those walls. It wasn't me. It was you, Marge. It was you.
Marge looks at Snax, and nods finally accepting the possibility.
[Marge]: I won't screw this up.
[Snax]: I'm counting on it. I assume you'll announce this tomorrow, right?
[Marge]: Yeah. I'll tell Scotty, but everyone deserves to know as soon as possible.
[Snax]: Thank you....thank you.
He glumly looks at his marriage ring as he slides it off and on his finger, fiddling with it.
A man, Scott, turns a corner, strolling down the pavement. His face is a worn, with hints of morose and sully wrinkles lightly crinkling in from the series of stress and anxiety he had faced. Scott sports a developed beard which flowed into his mustache. The beard, slightly lighter than moccasin in color, was great in length. His hair was also recently trimmed, no longer falling over his ears. His pistol, loaded with six rounds, lay in its holster on Scott's utility belt. As Scott makes his way past the elderly center, a few of the elders outstretch their arms, waving slowly to Scott. He takes his hand off the gun and returns the friendly wave. A human man, Obadiah, opens the door, jogging out to Scott. He sarcastically greets Scott. Obadiah was an elder middle-aged man, but not old enough to be considered to be checked into the elderly center. With a shiny bald head and bags clamming under his eyes, Obadiah's expression showed dismay at Scott. There was stubble from over to ear to under his chin and it looked as if his eyebrows were laying on his eyes. A few inches from his nose sprouted a goatee. Veins popped out of his forehead. His arms and chest were layered with grayish white hairs. Obadiah's lucky watch lay on his right wrist, which it had for the past twenty years. He unhesitatingly approaches Scott, gritting his teeth lightly.
[Obadiah]: Mr. Sheriff, sir.
[Scott]: What do you need Obadiah?
Obadiah stifles a mutter.
[Obadiah]: Just wondering how dirty I have to get to be as clean as you.
[Scott]: I'm not in the mood, Obadiah. Do you want me to arrest you?
Obadiah replies with more sarcasm.
[Obadiah]: No sir. Wouldn't want to be locked up in the jail again where the suicidal tiger watches me and moans about his dead wife.
Scott hesitates for a moment, whether to attack physically or just verbally cool the situation down.
[Scott]: Did you come all the way just to insult me and my friend?
[Obadiah]: No, Mr. Sheriff.
The sarcasm irked Scott, who kept his cool as he grins.
[Scott]: Then why did you come over here, Obadiah?
[Obadiah]: The old folks are out of toilet paper.
[Scott]: Talk to Denise. And watch your mouth from now on.
Obadiah chuckles.
[Obadiah]: Always was a good scholar boy.
[Scott]: Have a nice day, Mr. Sringer.
[Obadiah]: Fuck off.
Obadiah flips him off then returns to the building, jogging lightly as he climbs the three steps. Holding onto an alien's wheelchair, he wheels in a grey alien with seven limbs similar to arms and tentacles sprouting out of her waist. Scott shakes his head as he briskly turns, continuing his patrol and keeps it in the back of his mind to have Marge confront Obadiah about his conduct and ethic.
10 years ago..
A close-up of a gravestone, fresh and clean with Tech-I's name inscribed into it. The dirt raises a little bit where the body was placed. Behind it, the group is building the first segment of a wall. Marge is reading some blueprints as Scott hoists up a beam to Snax. Gunny smiles at Snax, holding her circular stomach.
[Snax]: Any more kicks today?
[Gunny]: I think she has the hiccups.
Gunny clutches her stomach lightly.
[Snax]: She?
[Gunny]: It could be a girl.
Snax shrugs, grabbing his hammer and begins pounding on the beam again. Gunny sighs, noting the absence of something from Snax.
[Gunny]: Do you not want to talk about it?
[Snax]: What the hell am I suppose to do? Celebrate it? He's dead.
[Gunny]: The others miss him. We all miss him. Tech-I was a good man.
[Snax]: He had his ethics and morals all set out straight, something I could never do. He was honorable and he died with honor. We should respect that Gunny, not attempt to preserve whatever we can from that.
Around them was rubble of a previous civilization.They would utilize what was left behind from a culture who roamed these grounds long ago to construct a new home. Chandler emerges from the woods, out of breath and raspy toned, a dead squirrel-like alien drooped down his back. Ahsas notices a decent sized gash grazed down the side of his face with inklets if blood dripping out.
[Chandler]: Let's roast this son of a bitch. Tried to slice my face off.
Close-up of a worn, smothered in dirt, gravestone with Tech-I inscribed into it. The edges were rough and uneven with the fresh cobblestone color now faded. Behind it were other graves. A large wall looms off the corpses and on the other side of them were trees. The bodies were outside the walls, per Gunny's request a decade ago.
Ahsas stands in front of the windmill, fixing one of the panels. The board was wiggly. She feels it lock into place as she lightly moves it, making sure it is stable. Content, Ahsas turns, heading to the mess hall for her rations. She thinks about Rocky and Seeryt. Rocky was a large Talpaedan, Ahsas' only lover. He wasn't that smartest apple on the birch, but he understood her. Seeryt was her brother, the man who raised her, her only family. Ahsas made sure she thinks about them everyday so she'll remember their faces. The sweat always beading down Seeryt's face, with the masculine jawline pointing out and a scar shaped like a pear behind his ear. Rocky's ears twitching lightly as she would coo into them. The pain never really went away, it only dimmed. As Ahsas wipes away a tear, she continues strolling down the paved path. Sweat begins to bead down her forehead as she enters the mess hall. It was a tall, open wooden structure with almond colored wood columns supporting the triangular oak wood roof. A nice breeze passes through the cafeteria, a relief to the dry, hot air. Wiping the perspiration off her face, Ahsas shuffles into the line and grabs a tray. After a few seconds of mindlessly moving, she looks up to see the Zenith chef, Spade. The woman was new, and Ahsas did not trust her. Some accused her mistrust as racism, because Spade was a Chimera Sui Generis. Ahsas feel the paranoia and mistrust radiating off of Spade and instantly took a disliking to her. Spade wore a golden-brown armor shoulder pads and breastplate, which Ahsas thought confirmed her paranoia of Zenith. Underneath the breast plate, Spade wore a thin red fabric which covered her belly. Gauntlets covered his wrist with a thick, black leather gloves. Spade scoops us some grub from a pallet and smacks it down onto Ahsas's brass, chipped tray, seething at Ahsas.
[Spade]: Enjoy your meal.
[Ahsas]: Is there anything else I can have?
Spade puts down the scooper and looks up at Ahsas, frowning in dismay.
[Spade]: The numerous breathless corpses rotting outside of Zenith in a radiated filled wasteland.
Ahsas whispers under breath, stifling her anger which began boiling through her veins, surging through her body and she manages to calmly let out an exhale.
[Ahsas]: Bitch.
She turns and strolls toward the tables. Glancing around, she spots Chandler sitting alone at a table. He nods at her before he brushes his coffee colored hair out his face, placing it behind his ears.
[Ahsas]: You know we have a barber here.
[Chandler]: Funny. How's your day going so far?
[Ahsas]: I hate the food.
[Chandler]: I'd kill for some meat....or even a beer or two.
She notices his tray is untouched.
[Ahsas]: Not hungry?
[Chandler]: You said it yourself, the food is shit.
A small Cerebrocrustacean saunters over, her coral colored six legs scattering in unison. There was a prim yet shy radiance bouncing off her as she looks directly into Chandler. Her gaze never fades as Chandler bites on his nails, turning to face her. Chandler's grim expression lightens a little as he gently mumbles to her.
[Chandler]: What do you need, Denise?
She sends a quick glance at Ahsas, in which she began to tremble. Denise was a cerebral woman, but she was timid and hesitant.
[Chandler]: It's okay. She's a friend.
Unsure and hesitant, Denise's large, bulging eyes stare at Ahsas, who attempts to give off a caring smile but hated the feeling of the falseness of it.The little pricks on Denise's head spike up as Chandler lays his big beefy hand on her small, fragile shoulder. Taking a deep, smooth, gulp, Denise sputters out her response.
[Denise]: The supply crew needs you to go on the run today.
Chandler nods, bringing her feeble body into a hug as he clutches into a warm, tender hug. She inhales deeply as Chandler reassures her then stands, briskly turning to Ahsas and hugs her as well then walks off, Denise, nearly half his height, by his side. Ahsas watches silently as they turn into small specs in the distance then continues to her meal. The texture was like oatmeal, the grub being creamy and thick but with clumps of solid in it. Ahsas felt like the mushiness of it didn't help her consume it. In fact, she resented the food but she wasn't willing to starve because of it. In silence, she downs her food until someone clears their throat in front of her. She looks up to see a man, well-built, big, caring eyes but with weariness hidden, latent, behind them. She saw mystery in his eye. Ahsas always had a special knack for seeing things in people. Things they didn't want her to see. The man stutters, obviously not good with people. Ahsas' mood grows grim as she wasn't in the mood for making friends.
[Ahsas]: Can I help you?
[Man]: Is that seat taken?
[Ahsas]: No.
The man, dressed in a series of thick fabrics covering his body with a big hunk of armor protecting his shoulders and lower part of his neck, sits across from Ahsas.
[Man]: I've been here about a year now and I'll still don't know everyone's name. Probably ain't worth it to be honest.
Ahsas returns to munching on her slimy grub, attempting to civilly keep to herself.
[Ahsas]: That's great.
[Man]: My name is Shiloh, I'm the, uh, the engineer. I run the solar panels here.
[Ahsas]: I'm Ahsas. I watch over the windmill.
[Shiloh]: Yeah, I think I've seen you working on it a couple times. If you ever need any help, I'm always-
[Ahsas]: I'm good.
[Shiloh]: Anyway, uh, how'd you end up here?
She looks at him, thoughts racing: Who the hell does he think he is?.
[Ahsas]: I've been here since day one.
Shiloh, filled with awe, begins imaging the colony in it's early days. His lips were puckered and thick, as if a bee had stung them. His eyes shined like honey. A bald top smooth as a baby's rear covered his face, which was worn. He seemed friendly, but Ahsas could see that dark forces were flowing through this man. His voice was low and he was tough. Ahsas sees the thoughts flickering through his mind as his expression changes. His jawline seemed rough, uneven with his chin barely connecting. Shiloh had a long, slender neck with an adam's-apple bulging out of it.
[Shiloh]: What was that like?
[Ahsas]: Different. One housing unit, a cemetery and a damn lake. Any other questions? Any?
The rage began boiling in her once more as she grits her teeth, trying to hold everything it, to just put it away and make it seem like everything is going to be okay. But then she realizes it won't be, that many of her loved ones are dead, that death is constant and she can't hold it in anymore. Shiloh shakes his head, obviously realized he crossed the line as he backs off, profusely apologizing before Ahsas feels the warmth of the tears dripping down her face. She stands and sprints off,, overwhelmed as she thinks of her deceased friends, the incessant pain burdened on her. Shiloh sits there, feeling awful, like someone shanked him with a shiv, twisted it then burned the wound. As he feels nasty taste in his mouth, Shiloh mumbles to himself, exasperate with his behavior.
[Shiloh] What's wrong with me?
The breeze from the wind dies down as many disperse from the mess hall, lunch hour being over. As he puts his head down in shame, two men begin brawling a few tables over. The first man, an orange-colored, triangular-shaped head with spikes and indents and curves with bug eyes, Tarner, cries out as he feels the shock of the second man, a scarlet covered, three-fingered man with sharp thumbs named Dyron brutally collides his fist into the first man's side. Spade comes sprinting out, standing between them. Dyron, seething and irate, pushes Spade out of the way as he takes a lethargic swing at Tarner who swoops backwards then pops back up, headbutting Dyron. Dyron stumbles back, colliding into some pots and pans that were against the wall. He grabs a pot and swings at Tarner who grabs Dyron's wrist and twists it. Dyron howls as the pot clatters onto the ground as he then kicks Tarner in the stomach. Weariness washed over both of them who were now covered in blood and sweat, although neither of them could be sure if it were their own or their opponents. Tarner smelled the reek of Dyron's body, who probably hadn't showered in days, maybe even weeks. Dyron smiles, taunting him.
[Dyron]: Come at me! Do it! DO IT!
Charging, Tarner takes a big swing and feels his knuckles connect into Dyron's body. Dyron feels the unplanned connection between the rows of his teeth. Blood dripped out of the corner above his eye. Dyron winces as he touches it. Tarner saw the heavy panting from Dyron and knew the man was tired. Tarner fakes a swing upward then pushes Dyron back and leaps up, swatting him down. Dyron reflected back at Tarner, eyes burning with rage as he swindles to the left and delivers a huge blow to Tarner's gut who felt the wind immediately get knocked out of him. With his gut now discomforted, Tarner threw another punch but the tiredness was taking its toll as the sluggish punch was easily dodged and returned with a tackle. Tarner gasps as he smashes into the ground. Spade pulls at Dyron's arm to get him off of Tarner but Dyron pushes her away, his might overcoming his logic.
[Spade]: Stop!
She begins shrieking as she grabs a frying pan and belligerently, desperately swings at the back of Dyron's head as he crumples to the ground immediately. Spade rubs the back of her forehead as she sees the blood on the frying pan and she shrieks, dropping to the ground and cradling her knees. Tarner stares at her then at Dyron then to his own hands. His knuckles were bloody and raw from the punches and as the adrenaline fades away, Tarner is overcome by weariness and pain.
The prison smelled of decay and vomit. Scott hesitantly approached the door, his pistol eagerly awaiting to be used. Twisting slowly, he sees Snax sitting at his desk. Snax was silent, reading a book. Currently, there were no inmates in the jail, which contained of two cells. It was rarely used but it was a good position for Snax, since it was a low-responsibility job. Inside the cells was a bed with one pillow and a blanket. Next to it was a bucket. Scott stays near the door, as the prison crept him out. Leaning against the wall, Scott crosses his arms as he looks around.
[Scott]: Hey, you good?
Snax looks up from his book, nodding slowly before returning to it.
[Scott]: Snax, when was the last time you left this place? Said hello to your boy? Ate a meal?
There is dead silence as Snax continues reading his book without a word.
[Scott]: Your son asked for you yesterday when Denise was watching him. He doesn't know where you are, or if you are even alive. Your goddamn son, an eight-year old boy, was asking if his dad was alive or not. And to be honest, I still don't know the answer.
In his mind, Snax was ready to explode into a million emotions of fear, anger, sadness, anxious, and uncertainty. Finally, Scott decides to leave after seconds, then moments, of painful, awkward, terrifying silence. Emptiness. He sensed that Snax wanted to be alone.
[Scott]: Alright, good talk. Will I see you at dinner?
No response as Snax is barely able to face his friend. Scott feels the morose behavior and turns to the door.
[Scott]: Goodbye, Snax.
Snax weakly grins as Scott closes the door behind him. Hard. Snax sensed that Scott was irate, and confused.
[Snax]: Sometimes I just need to be alone.
Snax flickers a picture of his child between his fingers, fiddling with it as thoughts stream through his mind..In the spine of the book, Snax pulls out a razor blade. He looks at his reflection off of the shiny metal blade. Tears stream down his face as he slits his wrists, bubbles of blood seeping up. Then, Snax cuts himself twice more before grabbing a white rag, now stained pink, to clean up the mess. He presses the towel against his cuts to give the stinging pain an edge. The cuts aren't what kill him, it what makes him alive. Snax covers the slices with the fur on his arm as he hides the razor blade back into the book. He rolls down his sleeve to cover his wrist. Snax opens the curtains on the window, which was adjacent to his desk. The mirror across from him gleams gently from the sunshine coming from the window. Snax, hesitant, looks at the mirror. He hated what he saw. Then it became worse. Slowly, every so slowly, Snax lifted up his shirt, revealed a six-pack, developed abs with defined and chiseled muscles. Between all of that, was the scars of blades, burns, bruises....all self inflicted. Snax punches the wall as he lowers shirt, emitting a low growl mixed with a high-pitched squeal as he stumbles to the ground, weeping.
Bitterness, stubbornness, vexation. These emotions all swirled Tarner's mind, clouding it from clear judgment. He sits across from Marge and next to Dyron. Between him and the leader of Zenith was a thick, long desk, covered in candles and a notebook, which had the pungent, musty odor of fresh paint. The smooth walls were pastel blue and many photographs and certificates were hanging. Tarner scans the room. Behind Marge was a black bookshelf then a fireplace beyond there. To his left, directly next to Marge, was a window. Sunshine gleamed through it. On the wall adjacent to him was bulletin boards, uncountable amounts of paper pinned down onto it. Behind him and Dyron was the door with a soft, silky rug. A family picture hung gleefully from a nail near the door. A basket of blueprints sit, untouched, caked with dust, next to Denise's desk which was on the other side of the room. He turns his attention to Marge, who opens her notebook and scribbles something down then looks up.
[Marge]: One second, please
She continues writing in her notebook. Marge's office was cluttered but she considered it organized. Under the desk was stacks of papers organized in yellow folders. A horde of candles lay hunched over, waiting to be kindled. There was a cup filled with countless pens, pencils, and other writing utensils. On either side of the desk were chairs. On each side of her desk was a file cabinet which formed an extension of desk space as papers and candles rested on top of those as well. Marge sits in her chair, wearing her usual yellow fabric with protective armor over it. The armor was sleek yet durable.
[Marge]: Did you both check the infirmary for any serious injuries?
Dyron hesitates but slowly nods. Tarner shakes his head, clenching his knuckles until they turn white, which causes the scabs to break as puffs of blood ooze down his fingers.
[Marge]: You should see Ember after this then, Tarner. We have a doctor for a reason, you know.
Tarner nods as the stinging of his jaw fades his vision lightly. Dizziness began to overwhelm him but Tarner shook his head vigorously, facing Marge once more. She begins reading notes off of her notebook.
[Marge]: Spade told me Tarner was first to throw a punch.
She looks up to Tarner, who doesn't break his gaze at her.
[Marge]: Why?
[Tarner]: Dyron wanted me to cover four extra shifts in the tower.
She turns to Dyron, who was caressing his chin. Dyron takes a deep exhale before speaking in a calm, monotone expression which angered Tarner even more.
[Dyron]: All I did was request that Tarner cover one, I repeat, one shift because I was feeling ill.
[Tarner]: Bullshit.
Marge exhales deeply, clenching the skin between her eyes then looks up.
[Marge]: I have both of you set up in the tower because you two have a good shot. We need protection from above. Everybody has a role here and if you aren't willing to help, then you should leave. If you felt ill, why weren't you going to Ember? I'm disappointed in both you, especially you, Dyron. We were working on your anger problem before.
Dyron shows a look of dismay and slightly disgust when she mentions this. Tarner sees the corner of Dyron's lip quiver in fueling anger as his forehead creases.
[Dyron]: I covered around the clock for almost a week!
[Marge]: Tarner was actually sick to the point where he couldn't get out of bed. Your selfish, pompous demeanor is getting you nowhere, Dyron. Now, you will stick to your original shifts or there will be consequences.
Tarner outbursts, unable to contain himself.
[Tarner]: Why are there only two of us?
[Marge]: Do you want to teach anyone how to shoot?
Both men shake their heads just as Marge had expected them to do. She carefully murmurs to herself the notes she wrote down. Boiling in anger, Dyron clenches his knuckles.
[Tarner]: But what about Ahsas?
[Marge]: She's a....special case.
Marge looks away for a second before returning to the conversation. Tarner notices this and wonders what happened to Ahsas. Sighing, Dyron stands and looks weary, as strains wear against his face showing age, even though he was in his prime age.
[Dyron]: Can we go?
Without speaking, Marge nods as she returns to jotting notes down in her notebook. As they shut the door behind them, Marge finishes up her notes then stands, starring at the picture of her family hanging from the wall.
[Marge]: I'm sorry.
She closes her eyes, resting her head against the photo.
The lunch hour was ending. Spade groggily mops up blood off the floor. As most of the cafeteria is empty, Spade doesn't attempt to hide hide the fact as she pulls out a cigarette, puffing a cloud a smoke. This isn't good enough. She thinks to herself. I can do better than this. Smiling, Spade leans the mop against the wall, content that she was going to take a personal trip.
[Spade]: Time to have some fun.
Spade smothers out the cigarette, crushing it against one of the wooden tables. She exhales the final blow of smoke as she turns, leaving the mess hall unattended. As she strolls down the path, exciment and anxciousness washes over her. She notices no one is in the tower. It's so easy to get in and out. I should do this more often. She concludes.
Chandler creases his hair back by pushing it down with strokes from his hand. In front of him was Zenith's only car currently in stable condition. It was a white van with dented in sides and shattered windows with the lack of one side mirror. Chandler hoists up a bag filled with weapons, automatic weapons, in the case where his group come across trouble. He kicks some gravel off the pavement as she sighs. Looking up, he spots the supply crew making their way to the van. Chandler knew them all pretty well, as he's done quite a few runs before. One of them, Zani, helps Chandler lift a particularly heavy bag.
[Chandler]: Thanks.
[Zani]: No problem. Elize, help me with this?
At little distracted, Elize responds as she looks up and see Zani pointing at a crate filled to the brim with .
[Elize]: Yeah, sure.
Zani was a unique man. He wore a rolled up, long-sleeved plaid shirt with red and black patterns overlapping each other with a white t-shirt exposed as the buttons were undone. He had small bits of stubble as he shaved a few days ago. The musk of cologne reeked off of him, as he maintained his hygiene very well. His hair was fluffy and thick in the center but shaved down on the sides and his head was covered by a navy blue beanie. He had thick eyebrows with black blobs under his eyes. Behind him was the others: Elize, Colbat, Jaxar, and Corbus. Elize was the only female on the supply crew team. Half her head was shaven with the other half drooping down strands of soft, mellifluously flowing over her ears down to her neck. Her fuchsia skin was covered in tiffany-blue etches and marks that were there since birth, being a normal part of her species composition. She wore a thin, elastic yet protective armor with baggy shoulder pads and gauntlets which covered her entire arms. Elize's breastplate was overlapped by a series of protective, metal beams which held all the armor in place. She and Zani place the crate down. Colbat begins bending over, closing up one of the open boxes. His pale green skin was partly masked by scales and the other was seemingly hard similar to that of a Earth crustacean. Rigged teeth show off his under bite from a jaw deformity. Colbat's armor was a thick, protective armor with a silver breastplate overlaying a secondary layer of armor which covered a thick, protective golden fabric. With huge arching shoulder pads and gauntlets reaching those shoulder pads, Colbat always manage to escape uninjured. He had deep, hollow eyes which could gaze into one's soul.
[Chandler]: Jaxar, you got the keys?
[Jaxar]: Yeah.
Jaxar was a peach colored alien with a weaved together robe sewn together with fine thread. The bottom half was discolored because of a different sewing material being used. On his right arm was a protective guard as his broken arm never fully healed. Jaxar was a kind man, as was Zani, but he was a timid, terrified man. Corbus was the final member. A self-sustained, self-centered, ego-filled man with ghastly skin and cerulean hair with lime highlights. He wore a tight light gray shirt to show off his muscles to the women of Zenith. Stress creases bulge out from over his eyes. Dark bags clamor under his eyes. Colbat warily approaches Chandler, who was dusting off the driver's seat.
[Colbat]: Marge says to conserve gas. I was thinkin' maybe we could siphon some or something.
Chandler, gruff, replies.
[Chandler]: Like there's any damn cars out there. This shit hole is ravaged beyond belief. We're lucky we still find food after this long. Our future is in the farms.
Corbus scrunches his nose in his disgust as he spoke. His facial expression seem as if a rotten taste was in his mouth, ever lasting.
[Corbus]: I'm not a farmer.
[Jaxar]: Let's just get this over with.
Chandler pulls the door open and slides into the driver seat. Next to him, Corbus sits shock-gun, grinning like a psycho killing devising their next move. In the second row was Jaxar and Colbat with Zani and Elize sitting in the third row. Zani and Elize whisper among themselves as Jaxar and Colbat remains silent. Corbus stares out the window, silent, as he chews on his nails. Chandler sticks the key into the ignition and begins reversing. Denise opens the gate as the van cruises off. The road from here on was a dangerous, uneven one. The tires begin rattling as the ground grows bumpier. Ahead of them, a carrion carcass lay rotting away as another creatures picks at it, devouring the rotten meat. Corbus dazes at it as the car swooshes by. Zani whispers something Elize, who begins speaking up.
[Elize]: Alright listen up. The plan is simple. We work on the same route we went by last time.
[Chandler]: Last time?
[Zani]: We went to this place before but couldn't finish our sweep because it was getting dark. It's not safe out here at night.
[Jaxar]: It's not safe out here during the day either.
[Zani]: We're splitting up into two teams. This is a new idea we're trying out.
[Colbat]: That's dangerous.
[Corbus]: You scared? You gon' shit your pants or something?
Colbat remains silent as sweat begins to drip down his face. Jaxar uncomfortably shifts around, clutching tightly to a crumpled up piece of paper. As they drive in silence for a few minutes, Colbat speaks up.
[Colbat]: What exactly are we looking for? Normally, Denise tells us if the priority is medicine or food or-
[Chandler]: Anything we can find. Elize, tell 'em about the place we're going to.
[Elize]: It's a retail store, with departments for everything: furniture, food, medicine, anything else we might need. They have an engineering section and Dagon requested we look for some sort of battery pack...hold on...I wrote it down somewhere...
She tugs around, tenacious, searching for it as Chandler drives over a bumpy path. After more moments in silence, in the distance, a ravaged city appears. Buildings were burned down, torn apart, as various types of corpses are slumped everywhere. The brakes whine as the van screeches to a halt. In front of them was a torn-up building with the name inscribed on it in a foreign language. Elize distributes the weapons to everyone as they exit the van. Chandler strokes his beard, pondering the game plan. He turns to Zani, who is polishing his gun with a rag.
[Chandler]: You said we're splitting into two teams?
[Zani]: Yeah.
[Chandler]: Alright....I'll lead one time and you lead the other. You, Elize and Jaxar take the eastern quadrant while Colbat, Corbus and myself while snoop around the western quadrant. Sound good?
Everyone nods as they turn the safety off their guns and divide into two separate teams. Zani, Elize, and Jaxar sprint to the side of the building.
[Elize]: Watch your ammo and don't shoot unless you have to. The noise will draw in more creatures.
Jaxar and Zani both nod as the three of them approach a door chained close. Zani smashes the butt of his gun into the chains, breaking them. The door creaks wide open. Elize turns on the flashlight on her weapon. Jaxar and Zani repeat what they just observed.
[Elize]: Stay in formation.
Jaxar nods as he slowly wanders off into one of the aisles. Making sure neither Zani nor Elize can spot him, he unravels the piece of paper he was guarding ever so dearly before. The words in black print glowed in front of his eyes: anti-depressants.' A friend of his,Chyeene, made this request. because of her depression. Jaxar feels bad about Chyeene because she seems to be a lost cause. After a few seconds of gandering at the paper, he stuffs it into his pocket then turns and jogs back to Zani and Elize.
[Zani]: Where'd you go?
[Jaxar]: I, uh-
There is a large rattle as a wooden crate falls from one of the shelves behind them. Jaxar turns, aiming his weapon at it. Elize pushes it down.
[Elize]: Don't shoot! Jaxar, are you okay? You're sweating a lot.
Jaxar, stammering, clears his throat and speaks in fear.
[Jaxar]: Yeah...yeah...
[Elize]: Just...calm down, okay?
They scurry forward, not wasting a breath, as they reach a booth. Behind it lay rows and rows, filled with items.
[Zani]: A pharmacy?
[Elize]: Guess so. Stay close. Bag whatever you can and let's do this quick. We have a little under an hour to meet at the rendezvous point.
Zani walks over to one of the bottles, reading the inscription. He scoops the entire shelf into his bag. Then, he turns to face Elize and Jaxar.
[Zani]: Take only what we need. Some of this is useless and we don't have room for it in our bags.
Jaxar gulps deeply as he nods before shuffling through the rows of medicine. Nearby, Elize shakes one of the bottles and hears the rattle rattle of the pills sloshing around inside. Dropping it into her bag, Elize finds a first aid-kit, She holds it up to Zani who nods, seemingly approved of this snag. Jaxar spots the item that Chyeene requested of him. Looking around, he snatches all of them that he can spot as grabs other arbitrary items and shakes his bag for half a second to mix the items.
[Zani]: Jaxar, you good back there?
[Jaxar]: Yeah..uh..not feeling so good myself.
[Elize]: We're almost done anyway. We should move onto the next unit.
[Zani]: I think that's the housing unit. We can some get more desks or something. Load 'em up in the van.
[Elize]: Yeah, sure. Don't count on it.
[Zani]: I'm sure there will be something.
[Elize]: Your optimism isn't going to change reality.
[Zani]: Why are you suddenly being a pessimist? We've managed to survive this long, why start doubting now?
[Elize]: Because this is all we have. These supply runs. We rely too heavily on stores like this. Sure, in the beginning, you could find maybe a few desks which we could use or even get really lucking and find the shit we need to build another wall. But we are not the only ones here. Murderers, rapists, thieves. This is their home. This is why there are walls in the first place. Optimism is stupid, and stupid gets you killed.
Jaxar backs up, not wanting to interfere.
[Zani]: This is our home too.
[Elize]: Zenith will never be my home.
She storms off, brewing with anger. Zani attempts to go after her but stops himself. Jaxar approaches him.
[Jaxar]: Are you okay?
[Zani]: She's just upset. We were best friends until a couple of weeks ago. She confessed to me her feelings. I love her, but not in that way. The truth is...
[Jaxar]: Yeah?
Zani pauses, looking like a wounded animal, hiding from a lurking predator.
[Zani]: I'm gay.
Jaxar stands there for a second, silent. Zani looks down to the ground, unable to face Jaxar, muttering to himself. It is silent as Jaxar attempts to figure out what he wants to say and how he is going to word it.
[Zani]: I can't believe I just told you that.
[Jaxar]: So? You're still Zani. You're still my friend. This doesn't change anything.
Zani looks up to him, awed. His humble, anxious expression is replaced with a warm, enlightened smile.
[Zani]: Thanks.
They sit in silence for a few seconds.
[Jaxar]: Come on, let's go find her.
They pick up their weapons and head off after Elize, who sits in between two aisles of homing goods. A broken cradle sit next to her. Tears stream down her face. Why am I so stupid? She smashes her fist into the cradle, obliterating it into pieces. Her face is huddled in her knees as she continues weeping. Never will Zenith be my home. The words echo in her mind. She feels terrible. She loves Zani. She's in love with Zani. But he'll never, ever love her. And it's not his fault. So, why is she mad? Elize smashes another cradle into the ground and kicks it into the wall, taking her rage out on the furniture. Zani and Jaxar warily approach her. Zani motions Jaxar to back off as Zani sits next to Elize, who sniffles.
[Zani]: Hey.
[Elize]: Hey.
[Zani]: Do you wanna talk about it?
[Elize]: No.
She sniffles.
[Elize]: It's just that, I use to think you were such an egotistical asshole, turning down all these girls at Zenith.
[Zani]: Yeah...
[Elize]: I'm sorry.
[Zani]: I'm sorry too.
She lets out a chuckle as she wipes her eyes. They stare into each others eyes and embrace into a hug. Jaxar stares at them from the end of the aisle, looking at them with sad puppy eyes but a warm smile.
Obadiah is kneeling in the elderly center bathroom, placing rolls of toilet paper under the sink. He hears a cry from the other room. Cautiously standing up, he hesitantly goes into the room. Obadiah sees the name on the door: Sket Shilbup.
[Obadiah]: Sket? You okay in here?
He turns the corner and sees the elderly man on the ground, gagging. Obadiah begins violently shaking the man, breaking down into tears as he screams.
[Obadiah]: Oh no...no no no...no...Sket! SKET! No...no no no..please get up. Please.....please Sket please get up...no....no...
As he sits in despair for a few moments in silence, he wipes away his tears before standing, understanding what he must do. Obadiah needs to put his friend out of his misery.
Sket was a good man. Years we've been friends....years. Obadiah thinks to himself.
He peaks around the room, to make sure no one is around. Obadiah kneels next to the gagging senior citizen. He chants a prayer as he pulls out his dagger from his boot. Then as he finishes the prayer, a tear drips down his eye as Obadiah bluntly stabs the elderly in their forehead, putting him out of their misery.
[Obadiah]: I'm sorry, old friend.
Then he returns to his thoughts. You didn't deserve this. You were a noble man, Sket. You did the right things when I did the wrong. I'm sorry.
Wiping away more tears, Obadiah opens the closet pantry once more and pulls out a thick, white sheet and a foldable stretcher. Obadiah struggles, but manages to lift the deceased man onto the stretcher and then places the sheet over the body. The area where his head is slowly stains pink as blood smears against it. Obadiah opens up the backdoor as he makes his way to the secondary gate. The grass and moss grew thicker with every step as he huffs to push the body toward the cemetery.Obadiah's mind races with thoughts as he begrudgingly pulls tan gloves out of his back pocket, sliding his fingers into the soft material. Tearing away the sheet, Obadiah stares into the lifeless eyes of the deceased. He turns, grabbing a shovel that was hidden in the bushes as he stomps it into the group, scooping out some dirt. Obadiah's grief continues to leave him mortified.
[Obadiah]: You weren't suppose to die, not like this.
Other tombstones lay muffled all around him as he makes a note to report to Denise for a gravestone. His excuse for it would be some sort of festivity event, he could manipulate her like that. He would coo her with his words, twist his mind, morph her ideals. This isn't the first time he changed someone for his own agenda.
Names begin popping in his head: B'aan, Guorma, Muong, Rich, Halberma, Crichton, Wallas,...Sket.
Obadiah turns and faces the graves, some of the tombstones still fresh. He struggles to keep down the tears. His head was burning with pain as the heat clamored over his body, dripping in sweat. The sun shines overhead. Creatures from the woods chirp and squeal. The pungent odor of moss and plants fill the air. The air was warm, salty even. As he continues digging the hole, Obadiah gets slammed with a wave of remorse, of guilt. He looks around, yet unable to face the body, as he picks up the pace. Dust was in the air. The stench of sweat. With a deep exhale, Obadiah takes a break as he smacks onto the ground, starring at Sket's body. Bugs begin nipping at the corpse as the scent of sweat changes to that of a decomposing body. Obadiah remembers Sket wasn't human, and his species decomposes quicker.
[Obadiah]: Shit.
He begins digging again.
Ahsas awakes, her eyes wildly glancing everywhere. She sits up, rubbing her head which was sore. Her friends were all in sleeping bags near her. The fire had extinguished, with embers giving it's ragged, final breathes. It must have been in the middle of the night. She stands, brushing herself off before descending into the woods. Her footsteps are gallant, each one being light and like a ballet dancer smoothly weave her way across the forest ground. She slides against the trunk of a tree.
[Ahsas]: Alone...again.
There is ruffling in the bushes next to her. She quickly glances at it, ready for combat. A figure appears and she lunges for it, not even thinking.She takes a heavy swing which clocks her opponent, who smashes into the ground, dazed.
[Chandler]: Ahsas, stop! It's Chandler! Ahsas, it's me!
He holds his hands up to shield his face, which was bleeding. Ahsas falls to her knees, weeping. Chandler cautiously stands then walks over to her, taking her into a hug.
[Chandler]: It's okay.
[Ahsas]: I wish you were telling the truth.
She stands up then leans on a tree.
[Ahsas]: They're all dead. My boyfriend, my brother, my friends, my family.
Chandler kindles his cigarette, puffing out smoke. He twiddles it between his teeth.
[Chandler]: Yeah, I know the feeling.
[Ahsas]: I don't know if I can do this anymore.
[Chandler]: Listen to me...they're dead, but you're not. We gotta move on, or else their deaths would have no purpose.
She turns to him, tears streaming down her face.
[Ahsas]: I still miss them.
[Chandler]: I do too.
She takes some deep breaths then looks at Chandler, who offers her the cigarette. She takes a puff from it, settling down from an inhale.
[Chandler]: Let's go back to camp.
[Ahsas]: Yeah, okay.
Marge is back at her desk for another meeting. This one was scheduled however. A short, blue man with magenta stripes on his skin stares at her from across from the desk. Marge began speaking.
[Marge]; Thank you for coming in today, Dagon.
Dagon quits fiddling with his fingers and looks up to Marge, who brushes the hair in her face behind her ears. Dagon clears his throat.
[Dagon]: Yes, well, uh, thanks for allowing me to have some of your time.
[Marge]: What's the problem?
[Dagon]: No problem. At all. Construction crew is running well and we have a surplus of supplies.
Perplexed thoughts begin racing through Marge's mind as Dagon begins fiddling with his fingers once more. With some awkward moments of silence, Marge finally cracks the noiseless room except for the sound of Denise scribbling down onto her paper. Frustration slowly waved over Marge. I have things to do...come on.
[Marge]: So let me rephrase that, why are you here?
[Dagon]: The walls. I want them to stay up.
Marge, appearing intrigued and a little perplexed, begins thinking about the possibility of a community here with no walls. It couldn't and wouldn't survive. There are too many dangerous things out there.
[Marge]: You think they'll fall?
[Dagon]: I think they could get knocked in, or torn down.
[Marge]: After Morningstar, we improved the walls. We had to.
Dagon rebuts her statement, frustration growing on his side with each word. Marge heard the edgy tone.
[Dagon]: They are still vulnerable between each panel.
There is a moment of silence as Marge digests what he says. She writes what he said down in his notebook. Dagon shifts around uneasily, as he is unsure what her notebook is.
[Marge]: Why are you just suddenly distressed about this?
[Dagon]: I just want to know if I'm headed in the right direction...for Zenith.
[Marge]: Are you in this for the long haul? I need commitment here, Dagon. I've been leading this place for over half a decade. I know what I'm doing. Do you?
[Dagon]: Yes ma'am.
Marge writes this down in her notebook. Again, this leaves Dagon uncomfortable but finally had enough nerve to ask her.
[Dagon]: What are you writing?
[Marge]: Oh, I just write everything in here. You should too, actually.
She hands him a notebook, which was a thick moleskin.
[Marge]: Do you know why I love notebooks? The quality. These books have depth in them. All the lore, the history, every incident every supply count. All in these notebooks. The spines fresh, breathing with life. Each page sewn in. The faint musty smell of nutmeg radiating from the thin, delicate pages. The details. That's what really makes up everything. Details. We're living in a time where a flower goes to fire instead of water. People only want to be comfortable, yet they don't want to take risks to achieve that. Those walls have withstood five years of incessant monster attacks, storms, it'll sure as hell stay up, if I think it will.
Dagon examines Marge's face. Her eyebrows were slightly raised. Her breath was smooth as if it were a snake slithering across an even, layered field with soft strands of grass protruding out.
[Dagon]: Not to be disrespectful, but I don't know if I agree to that. We have everything we need to be happy.
[Marge]: No, we have insecurity. The only secure thing I know is that I plan to make things right because they were wronged so long ago.
Dagon sits there, silent. He fiddles with the notebook, opening it and scanning the empty pages.
[Dagon]: Thank you for the book.
He slides off the chair, turning to leave. Marge grins innocently at him as he closes the door. Denise sits at her desk, adjacent to Marge, reviewing the inventory of the infirmary. Marge looks at Denise and smiles. She patiently waits until Denise finishes her current task. Marge enjoys the serenity of outside of her window.
[Marge]: Denise?
With quick attentiveness, Denise faces Marge with eagerness and anticipation.
[Denise]: Yes ma'am?
[Marge]: Find my husband please.
[Denise]: Yes ma'am.
[Marge]: Thank you.
Denise pushes her chair into the desk then opens up the door, shutting it gently as she scurries away. Then Marge is alone. She looks into her notebook, where there is a picture of a human baby. Marge squeezes the area between her eyes as she exhales.
Outside of the walls was filled with noises. Chirping, howling, squeals, whines, and many more. Spade inhales deeply with her eyes closed then exhales, opening them slowly. She takes big steps to avoid getting caught in the moss. Spade spots the bushes which she was looking for. Pushing down the bush part, Spade takes out a grey pod.
[Spade]: It's been too long.
Unhesitating,she twists the stone-colored pod open as some steam emits from it. Inside was a dangerous drug, known for reactions to occur by user. Pulling a match out of her pocket, she ignites the wick then inhales the gas emitting from it. With a deep sigh, Spade closes her eyes with the dull, eerie forest around her. She opens them as vivid colors and expression replace the once horrid landscape. Spade begins laughing, gleeful, as she feels the drug overcoming her. Then, the hallucinations appear. An older, maturer, Chimea Sui Generis appears. The ghastly figure hovers over Spade, whose breath's turn frantic. The ghostly figure lays her palm on Spade's cheek.
[Spade]: Mom?
Fear drains Spade of any enjoyment she just had. The figure stares into Spade's soul as her face begins chipping away skin, molting off as exposed flesh is revealed. Spade screams as she witnesses her mom melting. Crooked fingers hold up a skull before crushing it.
[Spade]: The fire! The fire killed you, Mom! It wasn't Dad I swear please Mom you gotta believe me!
Spade begins weeping as the hallucination gives a terrifying shriek then fades away into nothing. Spade upchucks some blood then wipes the tears away from her eyes. Except, they weren't tears. Spade realizes she was bleeding-from her eyes- and her knees started trembling. She turned, frantic to get back to Zenith. With every step she grew weaker. She falls to the ground, mortified and begins crawling. She lets out a croak, no more than a whisper.
[Spade]: Help....me....please...
With a final effort, she gives out a scream with the remaining energy in her body. She begins wailing and weeping as tears mixed blood and sweat stream down her face.
[Spade]: HELP ME!
Then everything goes dark.
Her dreams are terrible, terrible things. Flashes of images. She always saw quick flashes off the future in her dreams. She stands over Marge, who was bleeding heavily. Next was Scott and Chandler beating each other to death. The final was Snax mourning over his dead son's body.
She knew these were wrong. Spade could tell. Her dreams were always lucid. These were off. This drug had done something to her. It was a prototype made by her old friend. The one who ditched her on the good for nothing planet.
Then more images. She is revealed to be the one stabbing Marge. Then Chandler stands over a dead Scott. Snax kills himself with a shot to the head. The flashes end as Spade can't handle the false reality anymore. She is terrified, she is alone, and she'll mostly likely die alone, in fear.
Her eyes flicker open. An overwhelming headache washes over her as does the nausea. Ember, the community's doctor, is over her but her vision is still fuzzy and she can barely hear, as there is a large buzzing in her ear. Ember was a purple skinned man. He had a singular eye with multiple pupils. Head gear was on his head which was a biotechnological implant. He wore a thick brown fabric which reached to his knees with golden buttons tucked in their respective hols. Ember spoke to her, but it all sounded muffled.
[Ember]: Are-you-okay?
Spade slowly nods, clutching her head. She spots a bucket on the nightstand next to her and she quickly grabs it, vomiting harshly into it. Spade quivers, feeling like shit.
[Ember]: Your body appeared to be in some sort of hangover. You should thank my assistant, Jaelyn who heard you outside the wall. We found you in a bad state. Eyes were bleeding and you were coughing up blood. Jaelyn and I managed to get you here and set you up into an IV. You should be fine now.
[Spade]: Uh...sorry.
[Ember]: There's nothing to be sorry for.
Spade looks around, feeling weird as Ember just stands near her, writing on his clipboard. She cracks her knuckles, then flexes her fingers. She felt uncomfortable.
[Spade]: Can I go?
[Ember]: Go? Uh, where? You were just in a very critica comatose state a few moments ago.
[Spade]: Like, can I leave?
Ember puts the clipboard down and sits on a chair which is next to the bed she was laying on. Her lifts his shirt up, padding his face to wipe some of the drops of sweat off his face.
[Ember]: Sorry, the solar panels are acting up so we don't have much energy here.
[Spade]: It's fine.
[Ember]: As for your question, I highly recommend you stay here at least overnight. The supply crew left a couple of hours ago and they should be back by nightfall.
[Spade]: But, can I go?
[Ember]: I mean, I can't force you to stay but you could go unconscious again.
[Spade]: Thanks doc', but I can take care of myself.
She sits up and slides off the bed, taking the IV needle out of her arm. Spade smirks at Ember before turning away.
[Spade]: Have a nice day, now.
She walks out the door, slamming it behind her. Ember just sits there, dumbfounded at what happened. Ember tears off the paper from his clipboard, crumpling it as he tosses it into the garbage bin.
Chandler sits on a log, starring into the crackling flames vigorously lashing the ends of its fiery tip. It's been nearly a week since he was at Zenith. Snax had instructed him to find food, to get supplies. Being the idiot he was, Chandler realized how he foolish he was after he entered woods that stretched miles long, acres wide, with no end. He easily had gotten lost. And he was alone. Alone. His sanity began to dwindle as did his faith and hope. First, his physical will to go on broke. Now his mental was close to shattering as well. Behind him is a pile of bodies, both humanoid and beast. He killed whatever he saw, no hesitation. He is by himself, ragged, worn, as his hair droops unevenly down his shoulders and back. He mutters to himself, frantic inaudible words. His hands were shaking, quivering, and smothered in blood.
[Chandler]: My fault...my fault...
His campsite consisted of a fire, the dead body pile and his body. Leaves created a natural bed for him as the stars glazed over head, shining brightly.
[Chandler]: How could I be so stupid? I failed my myself...I failed my people.
Chandler's mumbling and ranting continues on, as he speaks to no one other than himself. When he finally shuts up, Chandler finally hears it. Running water. Chandler frantically stands up and listens. In the distance, a creature howls gracefully. The running water dimmed down for a moment as it grew stagnant before starting up, the noise stronger than before. Chandler begins dashing toward it, his lips parched as the humid, moist air had drained him.
[Chandler]: W-water.
Chandler spots a cabin with a brick foundation but cobblestone walls with a brick roof. It was grey in color with the roof being a tan, mocha blend. He grasps the semi-automatic assault rifle that was slinging off a strap which was over his chest. Then, a voice, not too distant, spoke.
[Voice]: Put down your weapon.
Chandler turns around, now aiming the weapon.
[Voice]: I'm gonna ask you again. Put down your weapon. I have food, water. Let me help you.
[Chandler]: I'll kill you!
Chandler checks the knob on a door on the cabin and it is locked.
[Voice]: Last chance, put down your weapon.
[Chandler]: Be a man! Show yourself!
Chandler turns around to see a large man with a staff whack his face.
His eyes flicker open, blurry vision. Pain smothers Chandler's head and ribs. His back was leaned up against a wall. He attempts to move but is unable to. When his vision finally clears, Chandler discovers he is bounded and looks up, seeing the man sitting on a couch.
[Man]: I am Colbat. What's your name?
[Chandler]: What are you? A sick, pathetic excuse of a man. WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL ME? Piece of shit! What? You gonna torture me? Tantalize me?
Colbat remains calm, sipping his beverage as his eyebrows raise.
[Colbat]: It's simple. I'm not a killer.
[Chandler]: You think that...that you're a good man? Good men die. And as soon as I escape this bondage, I'm gonna kill you.
[Colbat]: No, you won't. You think you will, but all men have morals. We don't kill just because we want to. It's not our nature to.
This just angers Chandler even more, as he grits his teeth in rage.
[Chandler]: You're a naive piece of shit. You won't survive this world. You will die.
[Colbat]: Those who seem weak are the lucky ones. The weak will inherit this world. All I'm asking is that you give me a chance. I can save you from this dark path. I can let you redeem yourself from your sins. Everyone has their lives planned out by a greater force. Your everything is sketched out, fears, loves, sins, tragedies, and victories.
The words seem to finally echo through Chandler's mind as he makes a realization.
[Chandler]: How? How do you redeem me?
[Colbat]: You think you're a broken man. You're not. You are just a wounded animal, hiding in its shell.
[Chandler]: That's not true....
[Colbat]: You are fractured but I can build you back up, allow yourself to rise to its fullest potential.
[Chandler]: Shut up...
[Colbat]: Let me help you.
[Chandler]: SHUT UP!
Chandler frantically squirms around, filled with a burning passion to kill this man. After giving up, Chandler seethes at the man.
[Chandler]: As soon as you think you're safe, in your bed, dreaming your little zen dreams of a utopia that's never going to happen, I'm going to take your life.
[Colbat]: I don't like threats.
[Chandler]: That's a promise.
A woman, Jaelyn, stands, arm crossed, in front of her room in the housing unit building. Jaelyn is leaning against the wall, fear drowning her. Scott is in front of her. The hallway was carpeted with thick walls, painted with stripes. Her eyes showed fear. But her expression showed rage. Scott stands across from her.
[Scott]: Can you tell me exactly what happened?
[Jaelyn]: I was sure I locked the door on my way out. I was going to the infirmary for work and then after helping Spade, I came back here because I forgot the inventory list Denise gave me this morning. I was suppose to give it to Ember.
[Scott]: Has anything happened the past couple days? Any incidents? Anyone threaten or harm you?
Jaelyn shakes her head.
[Scott]: Was anything taken?
Jaelyn shakes her head again.
[Scott]: Alright. Let me talk to Marge and I'll have a deeper investigation. For now, talk to Denise for finding a new room. This is the third one this week. An increasing problem. Don't worry about it. Problem some junkie pulling a prank.
[Jaelyn]: Thank you, Scott.
[Scott]: Is there anything else you want to or need to tell me?
[Jaelyn]: No.
Her hesitance piques Scott's interest.
[Scott]: You know you can tell me anything.
[Jaelyn]: I know.
[Scott]: I'm going to ask you again, is there anything else you need to tell me?
[Jaelyn]: I got a threat this morning. They said they would rape me, kill me, and then expose my naked, dead body in Marge's office.
[Scott]: Oh my God.
She sniffles.
[Jaelyn]: I'm sorry.
She wipes the tear out of her eyes. Scott lifts up her chin.
[Scott]: It's going to be okay. Trust me.
She hugs Scott, who just stands there, accepting it.
Through the window, Chandler saw the obsidian colored sky glimmering overhead with the illuminating light from the moon glistening through the pane. He shivers as he sees his breath puff out of his mouth. The frosty air brushes up against Chandler, causing his jaw to rattle as it slowly weaves into a full-blown shiver. Chandler puts his foot through one of the bondage layers and manages to stomp off a piece of wood on the couch. With a sharp end protruding through the end, Chandler is able to maneuver around so the sharp tip pierces the rope, cutting it after a few seconds of rubbing up against it. Flexing his fingers, Chandler stands.
[Chandler]: Time to keep my promise.
He slowly makes his way across the cabin into Colbat's room. The floorboard creaks as Chandler enters the room, which awakens Colbat. Colbat grabs a wooden staff, which lay leaning on his nightstand.
[Chandler]: I'm going to kill you!
[Colbat]: I already told you, I don't like threats.
The burning rage leads Chandler to sluggish blows and lethargic swings. With ease, Colbat dodges all of these as he leaps backwards onto his bed, knocking Chandler down with his staff. Colbat deflects one of the blows then whacks Chandler down with his stick. He didn't even a break a sweat. Chandler stands, puffing for breath, and charges Colbat who swindles to the side then clocks Chandler in the back with the staff.
[Chandler]: Come on!
Chandler lunges for Colbat who leaps upward, dodging the attack. With a fake to the left, Colbat hoodwinks to the right where he manages to whams Chandler in the face with his staff. Chandler falls to the ground and doesn't get up. The skirmish was over and there was a clear victor.
[Colbat]: You can leave now. I'm not holding you prisoner anymore. I can't force you into redemption. A monster must pick his own path into becoming a man once more. Or, you can stay. I'll help you, teach you. All you have to do is choose your own destiny.
[Chandler]: WHY?
[Colbat]: Why what?
[Chandler]: Why would you offer this!? I just tried to kill you!?
Colbat exhales then sits on his bed, leaning forward.
[Colbat]: I use to be like you...rash, imprudent, tempted by rage. My family was killed and I was abandoned here a few years ago with no escape. I almost died here, on Kronos. I lost all sense of hope or trust. Until this animal, some sort of wolf, it took me in. The wolf took me to a water source, it allowed me to heal. That animal was all I had. It grew to be my best friend. I found it food and it could protect me in danger. And then one night, these men attacked us. They held me down, laughing, as the others slaughtered my pet in front of me as it's blood spray over my crying body. They went on, taunting me, saying I was next. I broke free of my bondage, filled with a burning rage. Rage that makes you stupid. Rage that turns good men into monsters.
[Chandler]: Did you kill 'em?
[Colbat]: They ran. For so far, they ran. Until a ditch caught them off guard. I had my chance to kill them.
Chandler looks up to Colbat, who was shaking.
[Colbat]: I brutally slaughtered them. I was covered in blood. I didn't know if it was mine, my pet's, or the attackers. It was likely all three.
Colbat lays back down on his bed, putting his staff against his night stand.
[Chandler]: That's it? What if I try to kill you again or something?
[Colbat]: Go to bed.
Chandler scrunches his nose but obeys, shuffling out of the room and onto the couch. Colbat's haunting words seep through his mind, echoing as if Chandler's mind was a hollow base. Soon, he too drifts off to sleep, but sleep for him was nobody better than being awake. Even in his comatose state, Chandler still felt the impact of Colbat's words.
Less than an hour passed by since Obadiah witnessed the end of his friend's life. He was sitting on the ground, knees scrunched up against his chest, as he exhaled deeply, exhausted from digging a hole. The body was stiff and cold next to him, on the stretcher. Putting his gloves back on, Obadiah lifts the body, hoisting it on his chest on gently laying in the hole he dug. The white sheet was still wrapped around Sket's body. Obadiah peeks at his face, which was sunken in and deflated. Obadiah closes his eyes as he puts the sheet back over his face. Tears glimmer out of his eyes. He picks up the shovel from where he left it before his break.
[Obadiah]: O Loving Father and Savior, send your angels to carry the soul of your servant from this earthly terrain to the heavenly place of eternal and everlasting life. Let family and friends who have passed before in faith be reunited in joy with the departed. Forgive any wrongs that have been committed and welcome this beloved spirit into the warm embrace of your unending peace. Amen.
He stands up, disheartened.
[Obadiah]: Goodbye, brother.
He use to always call Sket his brother since they were best friends. Obadiah takes a final kneel and removes his gloves. He looks at his reflection from the sun shining off of his watch. Gently, Obadiah unhinges his watch from his wrist and place it over Sket's body. Then he begin's piling dirt over Sket's body, filling the gaps. When the task is complete, Obadiah hesitantly turns, forcing his feet to move away from an old friend. He looks back, starring at the lump of soil patted down in clumps. He plops himself down, unable to leave.
Chandler groggily lifts his head from the sofa. From the same window in which the moonlight illuminated light, was the source of scorching heat and blinding light emitting from the sun. Was it a sun? Chandler didn't even know. Not only did he not know, he plain out just didn't care. Sitting up, Chandler brushes back his hair as he swoops his legs onto the ground. Then, he spots Colbat.
[Chandler]: What are you doing?
Colbat, sitting with his legs crossed and eyes closed, is consistently breathing with ease as his face grows relaxed. The calm and collected expression fades into his true face, which showed happiness. His mind seemed absent.
[Chandler]: Why didn't you kill me?
Colbat exhales deeply then turns to Chandler. After uncrossing his legs and standing, Colbat enters the kitchen. With an island table containing sink and drawers, Colbat picks up a mug, sipping from it.
[Colbat]: Why would I kill you?
[Chandler]: I tried to murder you, to hurt you.
[Colbat]: As my best friend lay dying, choking on its own blood, I was fueled by unkempt anger.
[Chandler]: Anger makes you stronger.
[Colbat]: No, anger makes you stupider. As those men's blood dripped down my beaten knuckles, I lacked the satisfaction I urged. It brought no peace for my loss. I still had to cope with it. The only difference was that I committed a sin. All life deserves a chance.
Chandler, tired of hearing this man's false hope, returned to his couch where he laid down, rambling to himself. Colbat takes his time with his drink,allowing the water to touch his parch lips, washing over him, a sensation he use to fear that he'll lose. His sips turn to glugs as Colbat places down the cup, finished with his drink. He makes his way into the living room. He spots Chandler, who is laying down and facing the sofa so all Colbat sees is his back, and the shirt was scrunched up. He sees bruises and scars with gashes, burn marks and other horrific injuries. He listens to the rhythmic words Chandler kept on chanting under his breath.
[Colbat]: What are those?
Chandler quickly flips around.
[Colbat]: Talk to me.
[Chandler]: Why? What's the point of sharing each other's pity story?
[Colbat]: The best way to vent out anger is verbally.
Chandler sits up.
[Colbat]: Go on.
[Chandler]: My dad...he use to beat me when he was drunk.
Colbat silent, looks down, then nods.
[Colbat]: How often was he drunk?
[Chandler]: Every night.
Colbat grits his teeth. Chandler, disgusted, turns back over.
[Chandler]: You're just like everyone else. No idea what to say.
[Colbat]: What your father did is wrong. Don't be like that. Be something better.
Chandler faces him, shocked that he continued the conversation.
[Chandler]: My brother....he got it worse 'cause he was older. My dad broke his arm...twice.
[Colbat]: What about your mother?
[Chandler]: She was a mess. Attempted to flee but that only led to more beatings. He would mock her, push her down the stairs, break her. Neck, fingers, ribs. He destroyed her. Until she snapped.
[Colbat]: Snapped?
[Chandler]: My brother was asleep but I heard them arguing. I was always did. He slapped her as hard as he could. She pulled out a knife. He thinks she was too much of a coward. I couldn't watch. When I looked, the screams ended as my father's body was slumped on the ground and my mother was sitting there, covered in blood, hysterical. I ran away. Never saw them again. I heard from my mom a couple of years ago when she was finally released from prison. My brother killed himself the day he found out what happened.
[Colbat]: That's terrible. I'm sorry.
[Chandler]: Everyone is.
[Colbat]: But I mean it.
Chandler returns to his dormant state as Colbat sighs.
[Chandler]: If you die, it's by your own doing. You do nothing but dream.
Colbat looks at him once more before turning and walking away.
The church was filled with murals and stain glass windows. Jesus Christ lay crucified on the cross. The church was empty as the sun brightly blazes overhead. Shiloh and his girlfriend, Barbara, are there, the only ones, heads down as they pray, sitting on the hand built wooden benches.
[Shiloh]: Thank you God for giving me another day, another chance to become a better individual, another chance to give and experience love. For giving me health, for the food you provide, for the awareness you have awaken in me. Thank you for the energy that feeds my soul, the sun that warms our bodies and the air that fills our lungs. God, help me become the type of person that I would like to befriend, help me forgive myself and forgive others. I thank you for giving me another day, another unused opportunity to do it right. Keep us all close to you and listen to our prayers. Amen.
Barbara looks up for merely a second to smile at Shiloh as she puts her head back down. Their fingers overlap as they end their prayer.
[Barbara]: Amen.
The two stand from the row and shuffle out, feeling blessed as they walk out of the church. Barbara smiles again at Shiloh.
[Barbara]: I'll see you at dinner?
[Shiloh]: Definitely.
He leans in, lips brushing against hers. She breaks away, walking off the steps. Shiloh sits on the top step, putting on a fake smile as panic raced through his mind. Barbara make her way down the paved path and as she disappeared around a corner, Shiloh rose. Now alone, he enters the church once more. Shiloh walks up the front row and plops down before he begins weeping.
[Shiloh]: Lord, please forgive me.
He opens up a bible and begins reading: "Then the LORD saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually. And the LORD was sorry that He had made man on the earth, and He was grieved in His heart" (Genesis 6:5-6). Shiloh flips to another passage, as he knew the bible very well. "If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). This was the breaking point. Shiloh gets on his knees, preaching the serenity prayer.
[Shiloh] God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Then he reveals his sins.
[Shiloh]: My sins sunk into my bones, hidden within me. Bless me Lord, for I have sinned. It's been, uh... it's been too long since my last confession. My real confession. I know my soul is damned for my actions. I've been preoccupied of late with, uh, questions of morality. Of right and wrong, good and evil. We all want to think we are good people, but I don't know if I am. I've relapsed, unable to stop myself. Not drugs, but alcohol. It consumes me, this quench for it. I don't mean to make light of that. The things I've done while I'm intoxicated...
He stops, unable to continue. Shiloh whispers.
[Shiloh]: I'm sorry.
His lip quivers as he stands, leaving the church with an incomplete prayer.
Scott steps over some rubble in Jaelyn's room, searching for clues, anything. He notices wax dripping down the candle on her dresser. This was done recently. Scott picks up an orb which begins shooting videos of Jaelyn as a child. She chases after a ball before tumbling downward. Tears stream down her eyes as her father scoops her up. Then she begins giggling once more. Scott smiles then turns off the orb. Carefully maneuvering his feet around rubble, Scott attempts not to break anything, even if most of it was destroyed. A note is taped to the wall, reading: BITCH, your guts will hang from the walls, your flesh stitched on the floorboards, your head on a pike.
[Scott]: What the-
The sickening message disturbed him. He tore it off the wall and flipped it over. He noticed a food stain and the black lipstick glossed onto the page.
[Scott]: Oh shit. Spade... It was Spade!
He stuff the note in his pocket, turns and begins to sprint toward the kitchen. As he slams the door close behind him, Scott hustles down the stairs, skipping every other stair. Arms pumping heavily, Scott sprints down the curve path, putting one hand on the holster where his gun remains as he grits his teeth, pushing through the weariness.
A montage of the sun going up then down and then the moon rising and falling occurs. This repeats for a while until it slows down, stopping at around mid-day. Chandler is smothered in dirt, grease, sweat, body oils. His hair brushes over his face and his unkempt beard dribbles in sweat. Words flow from his mouth as his eyes wildly look around. Colbat approaches him.
[Colbat]: My offer still stands. I can help you earn redemption.
Chandler's lips press together, cracked and bloody. His chanting of gibberish ceased.
[Colbat]: I can help you repair your life. Put the pieces in the puzzle. Let me help you.
Colbat extends his hand.
[Chandler]: You're wasting your time. I'm a lost cause.
[Colbat]: That's bullshit and we both know it.
[Chandler]: No it's not. I lost my family too! Stop acting like you are some sort of higher being to me! You treat me like a child!
Chandler stands, his voice raising.
[Chandler]: You think you're so much better than me, this ego, and I can't stand it any longer.
Chandler emits a low snarl as he swings at Colbat, who takes the hit. Stumbling back, Colbat ignores the shockwave of pain soaring through his ribs. He doesn't fight back. Chandler jabs Colbat in the side again, causing spit flick out of Colbat's mouth. He doesn't fight back.
[Chandler]: COME ON! HIT ME!
Chandler sends a powerful blow across Colbat's face as blood drips down the corner of his eye. Colbat's face is without expression, showing no sense of pain or being uncomfortable.
[Chandler]: HIT ME!
Tears stream down his face as he swings at Colbat twice more, both to the face. Colbat stumbles back against the wall, squeezing his knuckles. Chandler, panting, begins seething.
[Chandler]: I see it in your eyes, the hatred for me, the boiling, fueling anger directed toward me. You're too selfish if you get hurt.
[Colbat]: What are you trying to say?
Colbat say a hollow shell in his eyes. He knew something was wrong.
[Chandler]: Slashes on my wrist, blood oozing out. That'd be on you.
He sprints into the kitchen. Colbat dashes after him. Chandler picks up a large kitchen knife.
[Colbat]: What are you doing? Stop!
[Chandler]: You have no sense of self-preservation. You only seem to care if someone else is hurt. You think you're helping them but it's really your ego that drives this.
[Colbat]: You need to think about what you're doing here. There could be serious consequences, Chandler. I'm trying to help you. Put down the knife.
[Chandler]: You did this. You...this is on you!
He hovers the sharp weapon over his wrist, hesitating. Colbat slowly walks toward him, attempting to remain civil.
[Colbat]: Just listen to my voice.
With every step Colbat took, Chandler moved the knife closer. Colbat stopped.
[Colbat]: Stars can't shine without darkness.
Chandler smiles a fake smile.
[Chandler]: You're trying to save me...I don't want to be saved. I don't want to get better. Deep inside..in my mind..nothing is fine...everything..it's all messed up. My childhood I've had, you don't know what it's like! Having to sleep in my closet at night, locked away at six year fucking years old with a pistol in my shaking hands. A boy is suppose to look up to his goddamn father. The only role model a young kid has. All my life I've distanced people, and no one noticed, no one cared. The ones who did, I got them killed. I watched as my friends died in my arms, as their bodies crumbled and their minds broke. At twelve, I stopped checking for monsters under the bed because that's when I knew. I knew that I was that monster. I've tried so hard to not become the man my father was, but we're both monsters in our way. I'm not depressed, I'm not angry or happy or sad or anything, just empty....empty...
With surprising might, Chandler plunges the shiny, metal knife into his wrist and slashes horizontally.
[Colbat]: NO!
Colbat lunges, tackling him down. The slash was deep and bursts of blood covered his arm.
[Chandler]: JUST....kill me.
He croaks the final words as tears dribble down his face, off his chin. The tears turn to silent sobs.
[Chandler]: Please....just kill me.
Colbat backs off, digesting the scenario which just happened. His breathing grew rugged as anger grew over him. As he squeezed his knuckles, tight, to the point they were bulging and turned white, he stopped suddenly. Colbat then sat with his legs crossed and his eyes closed. He exhales deeply.
[Chandler]: COME ON! Do it...please. Please...
Chandler continues wailing and moaning, his sobs growing uneven. Chandler pushes against Colbat's chest, blood stained on his arm.
[Colbat]: You need to solve your problems by admitting they exist.
Then, Colbat is silence as his breaths grow into a even pattern.
Chandler's adrenaline fades away as the stinging pain washes over his arm with tears covering his face.
Her breath reeked of alcohol and other substances. Scott stares directly into her eyes, attempting to intimidate her. The mess hall was empty. That was good. Scott did not like it when his job turned into a publicity stunt. He notices that she was fiddling with her fingers, and was unevenly shifting her balance between feet. Spade's shoulders were raised, basically indicating she was tense and uncomfortable.
[Scott]: Did you consume any alcohol or drugs today, Spade?
Spade, looking bored, exaggerates a yawn, as she avoids his stone-cold gaze.
[Spade]: Don't know. My head's been a little fuzzy.
[Scott]: Mhhhmmm..really?
[Spade]: Yeah, really.
Scott looks around, smiling as if he knows exactly what is going to go down. He scratches his nose before returning to Spade.
[Scott]: Well, how is everything going on here?
[Spade]: Fine. You can go now.
He heard the frustration burning on the tip of her words, sending the context in a completely different direction. While she remain calm and collected, Scott sensed rage pouring over her.
[Scott]: What's the rush? Got something to do?
[Spade]: Yeah, prepare food for your ass.
Scott ignores her remark, continuing on his investigation.
[Scott]: Alright, I'll go. Just one more question.
She impatiently responds, frowning now.
[Spade]: What?
[Scott]: Did you send death notes to various people this week then trash their rooms?
Spade, unhesitant, answers. She returns to the fake smile.
[Spade]: Yes.
Taken aback by the candor response, Scott keeps his cool.
[Scott]: What? Why?
[Spade]: I was high.
Scott raises his eyebrows, filled with disbelief as he whips out his handcuffs, shaking his head in anger.
[Spade]: I'm clean now. Some of that shit started affecting me and I didn't like it.
[Scott]: Oh, you're clean now?
Scott's sarcastic tone irks Spade, but she keeps a nice fake smile for the man. She hated his guts and she felt like he knew it too.
[Spade]: Yeah, I am.
[Scott]: You know I have to take you to jail right?
Panic dwells over her as she feels the tight, loose metal cuffs tighten on her wrists.
[Spade]: I'm sure...I'm sure we can work something out.
Scott scrunches his nose, disgusted by her attempted seduction.
[Scott]: You disgust me.
He pushes her forward as she stumbles but regains her balance. Thoughts race through her mind. Scott is behind her, angrily gritting his teeth.
[Spade]; No trial or anything?
[Scott]: Shut up. You admitted to this.
[Spade]: But I-
[Scott]: Shut up. I'm not in the mood Spade. I'm telling Snax to hold you an extra couple days because you attempted to bribe me.
Spade spits at Scott's feet. He angrily pushes her forward but refuses to hurt her. She was a woman after all, and even in this land of chaos, he maintained morals.
[Spade]: What, you afraid to hit a girl?
She headbutts his face. Scott clutches his nose as he yells in pain. Scott tackles her down, smashing her head into the ground. Blood covered her forehead, dripping down her split lip. Dirt caked onto her face's skin as she drools out a mixture of a saliva and blood.
[Scott]: Try me.
He pulls out his pistol, shoving it onto her temple. Spade thought the barrel was cool, refreshing her sweat caked skin. Citizens watch in horror on the paved path. Scott looks up, breathing heavily.
[Scott]:GO!
He barks at them as they hurriedly disperse. Spade grits her teeth. Scott pulls her up and tugs her forward.
[Scott]: You're going to hate Snax. And he'll hate you too. A perfect match.
He chuckles to himself, wiping the blood that was trickling out of his damaged nose off his face.
With backpacks slumped over their shoulders, Zani, Jaxar, and Elize shuffle to a light. Specifically, the light gleaming in from the exit door. Elize is managing to shift her weight between her left hand, which is holding a large leather bag stuffed to the brim with canned goods, and her right hand which clenching tightly to a large first aid kit.
[Jaxar]:Come on, we're almost there!
Jaxar pushes the door open as dust descends from above. Elize stumbles, dropping both of her bags as the contents spill across the floor. Jaxar and Zani turn, their own hands full.
[Elize]: It's fine. Just keep going, I'll be right behind you.
[Zani]: Are you sure?
[Elize]: Yeah. I can manage myself.
[Zani]: You know I worry about you, Elize.
[Elize]: You always do. I'll meet you at the rendezvous point. Go!
Zani nods as he and Jaxar descend to the front of the store, where the parking lot was worn and cracked. Elize scoops up some canned fruit and stuffs it back into the bag. Behind her, something creaks. Her head flips around, hair covering her face. She nervously brushes it back. Elize hastily turns off the safety on her weapon. She hears a groan of the floorboard and she aims her weapon, but hesitates to fire.
[Elize]: Oh shit.
Then, it is silent for a few seconds. With fear lurking in the back of her mind, Elize quickly stuffs more content that she spilled into the bags. First she feels the shock wave as something hits the back of her head. Next, she feels the warmth of blood trickling down the back of her head as her vision grows fuzzy. Then at last, pain washes over her as she drops to the ground, barely conscious. She sees black spots in her vision as she swings at the figure standing over her. Her fist collides into his jaw as he screeches, stumbling back. Elize wobbles forward, lethargically taking another swing. The man clocks her across her cheek as spit spews out of her mouth. The adrenaline pushes back the pain as she lunges for his ankles then kicks him in the gut. He falls on top of her, scrambling. Elize digs her elbow as hard as she could into the guy's face.
[Man]: Agh!
She heard his groans, his aching wails, as she mashes his head into the ground. Pummeled and bloody, the man vomits as Elize jabs him in the stomach. Elize rolls away, dodging the upchuck. The man shakes his head and grows angry, sprinting at Elize and tackles her down. He unleashes his full fury, punching her across the face. One. Twice. Three times. Elize moans as her consciousness dwindles. Elize kicks the man off, who was down for more than a few seconds. Elize needed to get up. Fast. Panic dwelled over her mind. As she struggled, fading in and out of consciousness, Elize thought of Zani. He would tell her to get up, push past the pain, to survive. Tears bubble into her eyes as she hollers, pushing herself off the ground. Shaking her head, she felt her eye. It was swollen shut. Over her right eye, her good, she could barely see as a nasty cut on her eyebrow caused blood to pour into her eye. Shaking her eye, Elize balances her weight between her two feet. Then, she charges the man. Wrapping both arms around his torso, she digs her jaw into his side, teeth connecting with flesh. The man shrieks as Elize tears out his flesh. She then punches into his sides, each punch causing a large sound to occur. The man was beaten to a pulp, yet he did not succumb.
[Elize]: COME ON! COME AT ME!
The man swindles to one side before bringing down both his arms onto her back. Elize squeals as she is smashed into the ground. The man flips her over, punching her with all his might. His breaths were tired, rugged. She reaches for her belt, her fingers unable to stop shaking as the man whacks her across the face with yet another fatal blow. Elize's fingers wrap around her dagger as she pulls it out and with all the remaining strength remaining, plunges the sharp weapon into the man's throat. She pulls it out as blood sprays everywhere, coating over her and the ground near her. She was surprised and terrified of how much blood there was.
[Elize]: Oh god.
She spoke as her head dropped to the ground and she was unconscious, succumbing to the pain. The dead man lay next to her, corpse growing cold.
Chandler sits where he has for the past three weeks. He's convinced himself to be a lost cause. To be what others normally thought of him. Colbat is reading a novel, thick spine, on a chair opposite of the cough. As he flips the page, Colbat creases the corner and gently sets it down. He stands up, grabbing his staff as he opens the door.
[Chandler]: Where you goin'?
[Colbat]: A little trip. We're running low on supplies.
Chandler nips at his tongue, lashing out at himself mentally for sparking a conversation. Colbat notices this.
[Colbat]: You discipline yourself...why?
[Chandler]: I dunno.
Colbat rests his staff against the doorway and walks over to a smooth, mushroom colored bookshelf. His finger runs through the spine of each as his eyes search. He pulls out a thin, maroon book. Then, he turns and faces Chandler.
[Colbat]: Read this.
Chandler looks at the title.
[Chandler]: "The Art of Inner Peace: A Spiritual Guide"?
Colbat nods, smiling.
[Colbat]: Written by Miguel Rivers. When I first came here, this little hut was abandoned. The books were here. I was a lost man, alone. This book helped me. I know it can help you. You can read, right?
Chandler slowly nods.
[Colbat]: I don't want to be offensive, but y'know, not everyone knows English in the entire universe. And not all of those know how to read it either.
Colbat places the book next to Chandler's stomach, which was turned facing the fire pit, his back resting on the back of the couch.
[Chandler]: I'm not gonna waste my time reading some bullshit book.
Colbat's boots creak the floorboards as the door swings open then gently closes behind him. Seconds go by. Then the seconds turn to minutes. Chandler rises, muttering to himself. He flips through the book, scanning it. After some hesitation, Chandler flips the book back to the first page and begins reading. The words seep through his mind, brushing against the corners of emotions, leaving him rash and indecisive, yet calmer. Second by second, his eyes remain glued to the page as he glances row by row, words that make little sense begin to open up their true meaning. After about an hour or so, Chandler slams the book close, putting it down. He finished it. Chandler blows some dust off the spine as he sets it back in the slot it had left in the bookshelf. Next, he briskly opens the door and strides out, sitting on the overgrown thick, wiry grass. He closes his eyes as a calming wind sings its songs. Chandler inhales deeply then holds it for a few seconds which is followed by an exhale. The cycle incessantly repeats. The wind grows heavier as Chandler struggles to maintain focus, flashes of gore and despair fill his mind as Chandler yelps. Startled, he stands up, looking around impatiently.
[Chandler]: What the-
After realizing the enemy was none other than his own mind, Chandler sits down once more and begins the cycle of his breathing pattern. The images flash through his mind once more as he struggles to keep the breathing cycle. His shoulders lay back, now calm. The creases on his forehead slither back as he stops clenching his jaw. Chandler's breathing draws slower until he is in utter, total peace.
Corbus stands behind Chandler and Colbat, who were stuffing non-perishable food items into their bags.
[Corbus]: After all these years, why is this shit still good?
[Chandler]: Don't question it. Just eat it. In the old days, we learned the hard way. We ate whatever we saw and discovered the truth. Expiration dates don't mean nothin'.
[Colbat]: This planet came out of a devastating ice age only a thousand years ago.
[Corbus]: How do you know?
[Colbat]: My father told me.
[Corbus]: Where the hell is he now?
[Colbat]: Dead.
There's silence for a few moments.
[Chandler]: There's some more food over here.
Colbat shuffles over to another aisle, stacked with food. Chandler scoops some more into his backpack.
[Chandler]: Let's leave some, for others. We aren't the only ones who need to survive.
Colbat nods, pleased.
[Corbus]: Stop being such an asshole. We're taking the damn food because we need to eat. We have mouths to feed back at home.
[Chandler]: Shut up.
He mutters slightly, realizing he didn't want to pick a fight. Not now. He was in front of this man who dedicated so many years to helping Chandler through these issues. Colbat looks at him, nodding, which meant Chandler needed to keep his cool. Colbat takes half of the supplies remaining on the shelf and stuffs them into Corbus' backpack.
[Colbat]: There, we good?
[Corbus]: No, hold on. You honestly expect some creature to just walk up to us, to fucking thank us for the food we left them!? No. At least, I don't. This is stupid. No food is starvation, and then we turn on each other. Is that what you want, because I will gladly keep all this food to myself if you two don't want to take it. Your call.
His voice raises as he speaks as Corbus' tone grows angrier with every word. Chandler squeezes his knuckles. Hard. They look to be popping out of his skin as they furiously whined into a bright, white color. Then, Chandler's eyes flip shut. He inhales through his nostrils, breathing gently out of his parched, bloody lips. His calmness angers Corbus.
[Corbus]: Come on! Do it! Hit me. Take a swing. Let it all out. I'm an asshole, a piece of shit, but I really don't give a damn. This is your chance. Take a swing. Show me what you're made of.
Corbus mockingly puts his hands up, as if he were to surrender to Chandler's force. Through his body, Chandler was filled with built up frustration from this man. As he begins his calming down ritual, Chandler turns, walking out of the aisle. Colbat faces Corbus.
[Colbat]: Stop your taunting and jeering.
[Corbus]: Or what?
[Colbat]: I'm not asking.
[Corbus]: What is so wrong about wanting to get shit done? I'm thinking about the best for Zenith. Not about this zen "all life deserves a chance" bullshit. This is survival. We do what we have to so we can see another day. If you don't want that, you're stupider than I thought.
Chandler grins weakly, reflecting on the words he just heard. In silence, the two follow Chandler, who now seemed to be an the technology aisle. Rows of broken items, stripped of their parts, lay dangling off the shelves as others are rusted completely. Out of the corner of his eye, which sweat was dribbling down, Colbat spots a large rectangular box.
[Colbat]: There!
Chandler and Corbus turn, as they both were in front of him. Chandler slumps down his gun and inspects the box.
[Chandler]: The hell is this?
[Colbat]: A battery pack. At least, it seems to be.
[Corbus]: Take it. I'm sure Dagon or Shiloh could use it for something.
Chandler shakes the box a little, hearing the rattle of some interior wiring.
[Corbus]: Hurry up.
Chandler picks it up. It was a little heavy, but Chandler manages to shove it inside a large bag, which he swings over his chest, the strap connecting the ends of the bag, looping his chest. Corbus hurries forward down the aisle. Colbat and Chandler linger behind Corbus, shuffling slowly.
[Colbat]: You're staying calm. That's good.
[Chandler]: I don't like him.
[Colbat]: Animosity kills.
[Chandler]: So does betrayal. And if someway our deaths benefit him, he won't think twice before pulling the trigger.
[Colbat]: You might be right. He might sell us out for a quick buck or so, but that hasn't happened yet. You can't judge someone for something they haven't done.
Chandler starkly refutes Colbat's statement.
[Chandler]: No one can judge anything when there's a bullet in your brain.
[Colbat]: That's true.
Colbat notices the absence of Chandler's staff. Colbat feels his own staff, tucked away, pocking out of his backpack.
[Colbat]: Where's your staff?
[Chandler]: Must've forgot it at Zenith.
[Colbat]: You know, you use to love that thing. Always were training with it, fighting...you have taken a swerve, Chandler. You were in the light and you're slowly going down into darkness again. When was the last time you practiced your staff rituals?
Chandler's expression turns grim as he spits then inhales. The words spoken mellifluously from Colbat's lips echo through his mind, angering him, saddening him, filled him with other emotions as it builds up.
[Chandler]: A few months.
[Colbat]: We can practice together, when we get back to Zenith. You need the practice.
Chandler's boiling emotions lead him to snap.
[Chandler]: What are you? My father? I don't need this, I don't need you.
Chandler thrashes his backs onto the ground as he storms off. He was breathing very heavily, looking deeply troubled. Colbat looks dumbfounded, awed, and despaired. He and Chandler learned so much from each other the past few years. They were best friends. Why has he suddenly changed? Colbat sighs, scooping up Chandler's bags.
The cabin was warm, filled with the scent of musty wood. It was late after noon. Colbat stands in front of Chandler, arms tucked behind his back. Chandler knew he was hiding something.
[Chandler]: What? You still don't trust me? After....how many days?
[Colbat]: I'd say nearly a month and a half.
[Chandler]: So why do you keep bothering me? Fearful? That I'll rob you, leave you with nothing.
[Colbat]: A little.
Chandler cracks a smile. Colbat pulls out a staff from behind his back. It was thin, oak-wood, carved with flat edges and foreign language on it. He hands it to Chandler.
[Colbat]: The songs of my people. This is yours.
Then, Colbat walks over, picking up his own staff which was resting against the bookshelf.
[Colbat]: Outside. Now.
Chandler, startled, looks over. He sees the staff come down as Chandler quickly attempts to deflect the blow but is to late. His staff took some of the impact, but the collision left an aching pain to Chandler's side. Colbat swings the staff again as Chandler rolls off the couch and quickly scuffles around to stand up. He menacingly holds up his staff. Across from him, Colbat holds up his staff as well.
[Chandler]: What the hell are you doing?
[Colbat]: Concentrate. All this anger, this boiling concoction fueled by rage, despair. Focus on it.
Colbat swings at Chandler's ankles, knocking him to the ground. Chandler stands as Colbat backs outside, where the sunny daze immediately sent drops of sweat sliding down both men.
[Colbat]: It will guide your staff. Harvest these emotions. They are dangerous, but they can also be powerful.
Chandler charges, screaming a warrior's cry as he swings at Colbat's feet, who hops over it. Chandler attempts to send a whack to his face, but Colbat manages to swindle to the side as he pushes Chandler down with his own staff. Frustration grows within Chandler as he takes a deep breath then fakes a swing to the right before colliding instead to the left side. The hit was colossal. Colbat sputters up some saliva as he trips over his own feet.
[Colbat]: I see you're enjoying this.
[Chandler]: Only a little bit.
Colbat rubs his jaw, which was definitely going to be sore.
[Colbat]: Well then, I guess there is no need to hold back anymore.
Colbat exhales through his mouth, humming a tune.
[Chandler]: What are you doing?
[Colbat]: Humming.
Chandler, in disbelief, shakes his head. Then he tightens his grip on his staff before lunging at Colbat, acting as if he was going to hit his mid-section with the staff. Instead, mid-lunge, Chandler twists his body so his bicep rams into Colbat's chest and then wraps his arms around his opposition. Colbat knees Chandler in the chest then clocks him in the back with the staff. Hard.
[Colbat]: Playing dirty never lets you win.
Chandler wipes blood dripping out of the bottom of his lip.
[Chandler]: Sometimes it has its advantages.
Chandler deflects Colbat's swing then pushes his staff down. With a big swing to Colbat's face, Chandler realized the adversary dodged it as he feels a swelling of pain erupt in his ribs. Before he realizes Colbat had managed to hit him twice with his staff, Chandler was already on the ground for the third time in the battle. Colbat flips the staff in his hands as if they were helicopter blades. Then he aims his staff at Chandler in a defensive position before penetrating the soil with it. Then, he extends his hand to Chandler.
[Colbat]: Good game.
Chandler spits out some blood.
[Chandler]: You think this is fucking peewee or something? Did you even stop to think for a minute that maybe, just maybe, I would've killed you?
[Colbat]: You wouldn't have.
[Chandler]: Not everyone follows your rules. People aren't good. They kill. They rape. They hurt. They steal. And some of those will happen to you if you don't change your ways. Good people, they die. My friends were good people. They're probably dead too.
[Colbat]: You're wrong.
[Chandler]: If I were wrong, then I wouldn't be lost in a damn forest. I wouldn't watch countless people die, some of them my fault. I wouldn't have to get my hands dirty, make others bleed until there is no more blood left to bleed!
Chandler grips his staff,his knuckles popping into a bright, furious white.
[Chandler]: I'm not a good person, because I'm still here. And neither are you. You killed those men....You beat me with a fucking stick. I hate you.
[Colbat]: I don't think you do. You think you do. You want to think you do. But you don't. If you did, you would've murdered me that first night and looted my supplies. You're not a bad person. The past is gone. Sins happen and you can't do anything after it does. So to tell me, that you're not a good person is complete bullshit.
Chandler cogitates what he said.
[Colbat]: Follow me.
He turns, walking into the forest with his staff. Chandler, initially hesitant, shuffles through the countless thick-trunk trees. The trunks of the trees were almond gray. The branches were bare, as it seemed to be autumn on Zenith, Chandler never really kept track of the days. Marge or Scott would do that. They were all about structure and organization. Chandler stares at his reflection in a puddle as he realizes the wrenching thought of never seeing them again. Colbat was a few steps ahead of him, slithering his way through the trees.
[Colbat]: Come on, pick up the pace!
Chandler spits onto the ground, placing his land on a log as he leaps over it. He hears a thud as he looks up, seeing five men standing over Colbat, who was smashed into the ground. They notice Chandler who holds his staff out, menacingly. Two men pin down Colbat while the other three charge. Chandler kicks one in the chest before clocking the back of his head. One of the remaining two gets a good strike across the face as Chandler stumbles into the tree. The two bandits begin beating down Chandler, kicks and jabs leaving sore bruises puffing on his skin. Chandler shields his face with his arms, attempting to deflect the blows. He rolls over and scrambles to stand before tightening his grip on the staff. He whacks one man across the face and sends out quick jabs to the other's torso. As the three bandits lay on the ground, Chandler approaches the two pinning down Colbat. They were facing him and one seethes, charging at Chandler who swindles out of the way and beats the man to the ground with his staff. Chandler punches the remaining bandit who was holding him down in the nose, hearing the crack as bone breaks.
[Bandit]: Fuck!
The bandit clutches his nose as Colbat pushes him back. The other four bandits all charge at Chandler and Colbat. Now equipped with knifes, the bandits take quick swings and cuts. One of the blades is hurled at Chandler. He yelps in pain as he puts his hand out. The blade buries through the flesh as blood flows out. Chandler moans as he bites down, pulling the knife out. Colbat takes a hard swing to one of the bandit's neck, knocking the adversary into a comatose state. Three bandits remained. One of them charges at the bleeding Chandler, who was leaning against a tree, firmly clutching his hand. Chandler tackles the man down but is returned with a kick across the jaw. Pain swelled over him as black spots blurred his vision. Chandler groans as the man tackles him down. Inside, Chandler snapped. The built in emotions, anger, rage, all just pushed through. Chandler growls as he lets out a chomp, his teeth tearing into the man's face. As he shrieks in horror, the bandit attempts to roll over. Chandler picks up a fallen machete from one of the bandits and begins vigorously cleaving the bandit's head. Colbat looks over after defeating the two bandits attacking himself, mortified.
[Colbat]: NO!
Colbat pushes Chandler out of the way and looks at the dead bandit.
[Colbat]: You killed him! You killed that man.
Chandler, beard stained with blood as his face is smothered with it, was silent. Then, he spoke.
[Chandler]: I told you...I'm a sinner.
[Colbat]: Go back to the cabin.
Chandler lingers, starring at his bloody reflection off of a puddle.
[Colbat]: NOW!
The tone shocked Chandler, who was use to Colbat's soothing monotone voice. Chandler spits out blood, leaving it to drip down a stone which was engraved into the ground. Colbat follows Chandler, an angry expression drooping over his face.
[Colbat]: You're not like me.
Chandler continues walking, facing away from Colbat.
[Chandler]: I already knew that.
[Colbat]: You don't believe the things I believe. This pacifism, these ideas...virtues...They've changed my life. All life deserves a chance. Life is a precious thing, Chandler.
[Chandler]: Even to the sinners, like me?
[Colbat]: There are two paths. A light path and a dark. But killing is never an option.
The rest of the trek back to the cabin was silent. As they enter, night had fallen as the luminescent moon rises from its daily cycle. Chandler plops himself into a chair at a rectangular oak wood table, which has four seats. Colbat sits across from him, placing canned beans in between them.
[Colbat]: Dinner time.
Chandler twists the can open with his teeth, spitting out the top onto the ground. For his own can, Colbat twists the top off, placing the lid gently onto the table. As they eat in silence, masticating the beans, salivating the flavor, Colbat abruptly begins a conversation, swallowing his last spoonful of beans.
[Colbat]: If you don't mind me asking, how did you manage to find yourself on Kronos?
[Chandler]: My people, they uh, we...we came here on purpose. We're trying to make something here. A home. A safe place to sleep.
[Colbat]: Were you a convict?
Chandler shakes his head.
[Chandler]: We lost many of our own on the way here. Friends, family, lovers. We all made bad choices, clouded by fear, anger...but we pushed through, banded together.
[Colbat]: What happened to them?
[Chandler]: I offered to go help, find food or somethin'....got lost in the woods, surviving on whatever I killed. I managed a week before I found your little shack.
[Colbat]: They'd always be welcome in my home.
Chandler sniffles as he continues downing his food, thinking of his friends.
Scott exhales deeply, still weary from the sprint across Zenith. Denise is by his side, guiding him forward.
[Scott]: You said Marge needed me?
[Denise]: Yes.
[Scott]: So, Denise, how's your day going?
They enter the housing unit, where Marge's office resides on the bottom floor. Denise smiles at him before responding. She opens the door to Marge's office and closes it behind him.
[Denise]: I'll give you some privacy.
She cracks the door before closing it gently. Scott turns, walking up to Marge who is sitting at her desk, reading her notebook. He whistles, causing her to look up. She greets him with a warm smile, brushing her face gently out of her face.
[Scott]: Hey sunshine.
Marge smiles, shutting the notebook close as she stands.
[Marge]: You know I hate it when you call me that.
She slugs him in the shoulder lovingly, but hard enough to leave a bruise.
[Scott]: Slow day?
[Marge]: Dagon came by.
Scott's brow lowers, showing hints of dismay.
[Scott]: Why?
Marge playfully twiddles with her hair.
[Marge]: Are you...jealous?
[Scott]: No...no..I don't trust him. Something fishy is going on with him, I can just tell.
He adds, dryly. Marge sees the fuel ready to ignite as she attempts to calm down her man. She brushes herself against his chest, their faces inches apart. She lets out a cheeky smile, widely grinning.
[Marge]: Your jealousy is cute.
She leans in, her lips brushing against his parched, salty lips. Scott feels the warmth of her body snuggle up against his own, as the passion burning between them grows hotter with ever second their lips connect. His hands are on her face, pulling her closer to him. She wanted him and he knew it. The tension defers as they break away from each other, gazing into each other's eyes. Scott reeked of sweat from sprinting to Spade earlier, but Marge didn't seem to mind. Scott nudges the hair out of Marge's hair with a single hand, stroking it gently.
[Marge]: Did you hear about the incident at lunch today?
Her eyes were looking up to his as they were still body to body. Scott wraps his arms around her back, squeezing her tightly in a hug, resting his head on top of hers.
[Scott]: Yeah, Denise was telling me all about it on the way over here.
[Marge]: Well, what do you think?
[Scott]: Tarner did miss some of his shifts last week right?
[Marge]: Yeah.
[Scott]: Then there's your answer. He needs to atone for them.
Marge, startled by his response, breaks away from the hug and looks into his eyes.
[Marge]: He was sick, Scotty. We don't have enough medicine.
[Scott]: What if they both get sick? You're worrying about stuff that is out of your control.
[Marge]: You're probably right.
He leans in this time, pressing tightly against the warmth of her lips as they passionately kiss, Marge and Scott both smiling.
Chandler sits across from Colbat, in the same musty living room he has spent the last four months. Time passed on. Chandler grew better at his skills. The two men were opposite of each other, eyes closed, calm breaths, A scene of serenity. Chandler's eyes flicker open as he exhales. After a few moments, Colbat does the same. Colbat stands, walking over to the door and grabbing his staff. After clenching the staff between his fingers, Colbat begins stroking it with a rag, cleaning it. Chandler props himself up, facing Colbat.
[Chandler]: I have to go.
Colbat, shocked and startled by this, places his staff down.
[Colbat]: Why?
[Chandler]: You've helped me so much these past months. Thank you. But I have to find my people now. They're still out there, I honestly believe they are.
Colbat nods, placing a firm grip on Chandler's shoulders, tightening it as an act of friendship and gratitude.
[Chandler]: You-you can come with me...I'm sure they wouldn't mind or nothin'.
[Colbat]: My place is here. But the door is always open.
Chandler walks over to the couch, picking up his backpack. Colbat helps him stuff in supplies. Bottles of water, canned goods. Chandler sticks in a blanket and some candles with a pack of matches. Colbat sadly looks at Chandler, looking weary.
[Colbat]: You chose the right path.
Chandler remarks on his words before returning to placing items into his bag. After a few minutes of silent packing, Chandler approaches the door. Hesitant, he turns and faces Colbat.
[Chandler]: Goodbye, Colbat.
Colbat smiles easily at him as Chandler slowly shuts the door behind him. The sun was overhead as the mid-day heat brought sweat to roll down his face. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, Chandler trek forward. He kept walking, pace after pace as the cabin turned into a small nothingness behind him, swamped by trees and logs and plants. When his lips began bleeding from cracking as the salty air parched his lips, Chandler downed his first water bottle. With only three remaining, Chandler hoped to find a clean water source. He heard feet moving near by. Chandler's gun was slumped on his side when thinks about using it. The thought immediately vanishes as he twiddles his staff, sending into a circular motion that was similar to that of a helicopter waving its blades. The sounds of twigs snapping occur to his left as Chandler aims the staff in an attacking position. Chandler sharply turns and sees three women, scared, and scrambling. They begin to sprint off before Chandler screams out, gruff.
[Chandler]: Stop! Let me help-
He hears the sound of a gun click behind his head. Slowly, cautiously, Chandler lowers his staff and removes his gun before slumping the backpack onto the ground. He hears the smack of the gun against his head as an aching pain overwhelms him and everything goes dark.
The farmland was a moss colored graveyard, filled with dead crops. Scott is standing opposite of one of the farmers, who was hysterical. Dirt and sweat caked into his skin. A mysterious substance was covering the crops. Scott had to slosh through it to face the farmer, who look as if he were to weep.
[Scott]: What happened?
[Farmer]: It came from the sky. The gods are punishing us...
Fear dwelled over the farmer as he starred into the horror of above. The sky was dim as a huge puffy cloud blotted out the sun, leaving the sky to be twilight colored with minimal light. Ash fluttered down in clumps. Scott is inspecting the metallic thin substance which was chalky and a light gray and white color. He inhales and forces up a cough. When Scott draws back his arm, there's blood smothered on his arm, pushing down the hairs. Covering his face with his mouth, Scott looks up to the farmer.
[Scott]: Get everyone in the mess hall....NOW!
Scott stands up, hollering at the other farmers.
[Scott]: TELL THE OTHERS! EVERYONE AT THE MESS HALL! NOW!
Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Scott begins pumping his arms vigorously as his legs kick back, leaving him sprinting toward the mess hall quickly.
From the front view, the store was decaying. Parts of the walls had crumpled and left gaps in it. Jaxar and Zani sit, both of them leaning back on the van. Colbat, Corbus, and Chandler approach them, dropping their bags onto the ground. Chandler pulls out the key from his boot, twisting the car door open. He slides a couple of their bags into the trunk, hauling the duffle bag under the middle row. Corbus impatiently looks around, waiting to leave.
[Colbat]: Where's Elize?
[Zani]: She'll be right out. She had dropped her bag and we were struggling with the extra load of supplies we found and she told us that she'll be right back.
Corbus turns to them.
[Corbus]: Are you stupid?
[Jaxar]: She can take care of herself.
[Corbus]: She's probably dead. We have no idea what lives here or wait they eat or kill or anything.
[Zani]: He's right..how stupid am I? We have to go back!
Zani stands and begins dashing toward the building. Corbus, hesitant, follows him with Jaxar and Colbat. Chandler shakes his head before locking the door and placing the key back in his boot before trotting to catch up with the others. Chandler enters the building and sees Zani on his knees, holding a bloody can. Zani is weeping, squeezing that can with all his strength as he pounds his fist into the ground. Chandler sees out of the corner of his eye a latch.
[Chandler]: Over there!
With a shimmer of hope, Zani looks up. The group shuffles to the latch which was over a door.
[Jaxar]: This is totally not a good idea.
[Zani]: She could be alive...hiding from what ever attacked her up here.
[Jaxar]: Why risk our lives for someone who probably is already dead?
[Colbat]: What if it was you? Bleeding, moaning for help, and no one knew you were alive.
Jaxar remains silent as Chandler pulls out the latch and the doors swing open, revealing a narrow path of stairs descending. Colbat enters first, followed by Zani, Chandler, Corbus and Jaxar in the rear, who hesitance to enter led him to even more fear. The path grew dark as Colbat shuffles to pull out a lantern from his pack, igniting it with a match. Down below was the end of the stairwell and revealed the ground. Aisles upon aisles filled to the brim with supplies. The water level was high, up to maybe five feet. They group stops on the step before the water touches their feet and take a look. It appeared to be a whole different store, caved in by something. The musky smell of dirty water pungently fills the chamber. Faded paint and rows of aisles stay stagnant as they had for the past thousand years.
[Jaxar]: So many things can go wrong..what if the water is radioactive or something?
Zani plunges in, swimming.
[Zani]: It's not.
Zani swims over to one of the aisles near the stairs. Zani calls out.
[Zani]: Elize?
The echoes bounce off the walls, leaving the voice fading away until it is nothing.
[Corbus]: Keep your voice down!
Zani shrugs, beginning to take the items off of the shelf. The others enter the water. Colbat sloshes through, as the water is up to his torso. All of them begin taking the supplies. Something gurgles behind them as an eerie cry occurs. The large beast emerges from the water, obviously an aquatic one. The group begins screaming as it blocks off the stairs.
[Chandler]: Climb the aisles!
All of them begin climbing as Zani's boot gets wedged between to shelves.
[Zani]: I'm stuck!
The beast submerges, air bubbles, revealing the track of it. Straight toward Zani. It lunges, revealing to be of colossal size, chomps down onto Zani's side and pulls him into the water. Zani is thrown up, thrashing in the water as a pool of blood dissolves around him.
[Zani]: Help...me..
He weakly cries as the beast drags him down again.
[Corbus]: Go! The stairwell is open!
[Chandler]: We aren't leaving our own behind!
Corbus begins wildly firing his weapon into the water as the beast cries out. As there is silence, the creature floats to the surface as its final air bubbles breach the surface. Zani cries, floating on his back as blood continues leaking out.
[Corbus]: There could be more! Let's go!
Jaxar is in shock, mortified at what he just saw. He is frozen, clutching to the pole. Colbat tugs at him, managing to make him release the pole. Quickly and efficiently, the members climb down from the shelves and hustle toward the stairs. Chandler scoops up Zani, where a bullet was lodged in his shoulder as two others grazed his thighs. However, his side looked a lot worse. A big gap was left of a chunk of flesh that had been bitten off. Zani drifts unconscious, weeping and hollering at the pain. Colbat faces Corbus.
[Colbat]: You shouldn't have killed it... it was only trying to survive.
[Corbus]: You won't survive if you keep this no killing motto up. People die. Get over it. If I didn't kill that son of a bitch, Zani would be dead right now so instead of chastising me, why don't you thank me for saving all of our asses!
Out of nowhere a shocking pain fills Corbus as he is slammed into the wall. Zani was resting on the ground as Chandler pinned Corbus.
[Chandler]: You don't do this. Not here. Not now. Keep your shit together. I promise you will live a terrible death if you decide to screw with me or these people. Understood?
Corbus is silent, gritting his teeth. Chandler slams him harder into the wall.
[Chandler]: Understand?
[Colbat]: Chandler...stop. He's not worth it.
Chandler looks to Colbat then to Corbus before releasing him, throwing him into the stairs. Corbus' jaw slams into the ground as he groans, standing up and moving up the stairs.
He felt the tightness of the rope around his hands, leaving them raw and bloody. The skin was chafed. His head ached with a lurking pain as his vision slowly fades into place. Chandler looks up as he feels the cool barrel of a gun pressed against his forehead. Blowing the hair out of his face, Chandler takes note of his surroundings. The area he was in had the trees thinner, and farther apart. There was charred firewood as a woman brushes it out. A different woman was holding the weapon to his head. Chandler scans, spotting two more. He could easily take on four starved women, but he thought of Colbat's lessons. The virtues he had implanted into Chandler's mind. Chandler was a different man now. The cool barrel of the woman, who appeared to be the leader, pushed it against his skull.
[Leader Woman]: Move...now!
Chandler stood and felt the weight of his backpack on his back, the staff poking out of it. His gun was in the hands of the leader. The three other women shuffle behind the leader, who was behind Chandler, aiming the gun at the back of his head. He saunters forward, attempting to linger. Chandler had no idea where they were taking him or why they let him keep his supplies. As they walked forward in silence, Chandler saw in the distance a pile of charred bodies. The bodies he burned, months ago before he met Colbat. He knew where he was. Close to home. The thought of murdering them returns to Chandler's mind. He formulates a plan, breaking their neck, disarming the leader and beating them down. No need to waste bullets on them. He wouldn't though. Chandler changed. For less than a moment, they stopped. The leader woman is murmuring to the second woman, while the third and fourth are checking an inscription on a tree. After whispering some more among themselves, the leader returned to pressing the barrel against Chandler as they trotted forward once more.
[Chandler]: Why'd we stop?
[Leader]: Keep moving.
[Chandler]: I'm not an animal.
[Leader]: Do I look like I care? Walk.
She pushes him, not too hard, but firm enough that Chandler stumbles. From the corner of his eye, he sees a large creature, resembling that of a rhino except with a sleeker body and claws with barring fangs. The fourth woman shrieks in fear as it charges and she collapses onto the ground. Chandler turns, seeing the leader has her attention focused on the beast. Chandler kicks her down, tearing the gun out of her fingers, prying it as she screams at him.
[Leader]: Hey! What the-
Her voice is drowned out by the monstrous growl of this creature. Chandler then begins sprinting through the woods, listening to the squeals of the beast as it stampedes through a tree, trampling over the third woman, crushing her. She screams as the hoof plunges onto her chest, causing flesh and blood to explode everywhere. Chandler stops, thinking. He couldn't leave these people to die. Not after all these months of finding his path for redepmtion. Chandler dashes back, leaping onto the back of the beast. Struggling to hold on to his grip, Chandler sees the wild beast crush the second woman's skull with its mighty jaw. He wraps both of his meaty arms around the creature's neck, squeezing until the creature flips over onto its side, comatose. The leader and the fourth woman were huddled around the third woman's remains and the headless corpse of the second woman. Chandler looks at them. The leader pulls out a pistol from her back. Chandler completely had forgotten about it. In her other hand was a knife, covered in old blood which was stained into the shiny metal. She swings at Chandler with the knife as it cuts his shoulder. Furious, Chandler clocks her across the head and kicks her wrist, sending the knife flying out of her hand. The fourth girl is on the floor, cradling herself in fetal position.
[Leader]: You took their lives...they're dead because of you!
The leader looks at her hands, which was covered in the third woman's blood. She fires the pistol at Chandler, hitting him directly in the shoulder. Chandler grits his teeth, pushing past the pain as he falls back, slumping down a tree's base. His vision grows blurry as the leader's boot connects into his jaw and he sees darkness.
Chandler groggily awakes. He was not restrained by ropes, still in the same place he was when the leader knocked him unconscious. The sun was setting, but only the tip of the sun was under the horizon. The leader and the fourth woman are burying the other two with their bare hands. Chandler strokes the back of his head, groaning. He stood up and saw they were teary eyed. Somber, Chandler understands they don't care about him anymore or they would've killed him. He stands, ensuring all his weapons and stuff are still with him. Then he spots the beast, slaughtered, being roasted over a huge fire. Rage pours over him before he forces himself to turn away and trek into the wilderness. By now, the sun was down and Chandler could not see more than a few feet ahead of him. Little fires scattered across the woods led him. He didn't dare go near any of them, as he had no idea who or what would be lurking there. When he unintentionally got close to one camp, all he saw was the double barrel of a shotgun aimed at him. He quickly kept moving. Soon, weariness drew over him. He thought of Colbat, then of Snax, Ahsas, Scott, Gunny, and Marge. Then he thought of these women he met today. Chandler didn't even know their names. He felt sick to his stomach about the events which occurred today as he drifts off, relaxing in his sleep.
There it was. In the distance. Zenith. The walls were completed. Chandler smiles as he begins moving toward. Filthy and bathed in dirt, Chandler removes his jacket, tying it around his waist. The bullet hole was still fresh in his shoulder leaving caked blood splattered on his shirt and bicep. Exhaustion and pain drowns him as he inches forward. A man appears from out of the gates, sprinting toward Chandler but manages to keep his distance. It was Scott. Chandler was smothered in dirt, was more unkempt than usual, and ratty. Scott didn't recognize him.
[Scott]: Who are you?
Chandler attempts to answer but his voice breaks from relief as he sees his best friend for the first time in months.
[Scott]: I'm going to ask you again, who are you?
In the bell tower, Ahsas spots Scott and another man. She looks through the scope of the sniper rifle.
[Ahsas]: I'll get this son of a bitch.
Back to Scott, he approaches Chandler.
[Chandler]: Scott.
[Scott]: Chandler?
Scott takes a step toward Chandler as a bullet rips through his stomach, causing blood to splurge onto Scott.
[Scott]: NO!
Scott scoops up Chandler and turns, sprinting back toward Zenith. Ahsas grins before seeing the look of worry of Scott's face and then she recognizes Chandler.
[Ahsas]: Oh my god.
She breaks down crying, laying on the ground of the bell tower.
[Ahsas]: What did I do? What...what did I do-
In between breaths, she moans as part of her cry, mortified at her previous action.
Zani groans, laying on his good side. The supply crew were resting in one of the aisles. Colbat tears the fabric of shirt off where the wound was. The skin was inflated and pink. The actual wound was composed of flesh layered and scabs. It was a huge semi-circle shape and was jagged along the sides.
[Colbat]: He needs to clean it. It gets infected and he won't have a chance.
Zani groans in pain as Corbus hides behind a large box, pulling out some stale crackers from his backpack. One by one, he quietly begins crunching on them. Jaxar stands up.
[Jaxar]: What do you think you're doing?
[Corbus]: We're good as dead anyway.
He pops another cracker into his mouth. Chandler stands, furious as he snatches the bag out of Corbus' hands. Zani continues wailing in paining, moaning in despair as he bangs his hands into the ground, attempting to claw through it.
[Colbat]: Just breathe, in through your nose and out through your mouth.
Chandler shuffles through his bag and tosses three red pills to Colbat. Colbat, confused, looks at Chandler.
[Chandler]: Pain killers. Give 'em to him.
Colbat nods as he slips in the three pills one by one into Zani's mouth.
[Zani]: Wa-water...
Colbat brings a bottle Zani's dry lips as he gurgles it down, swallowing the pills. Corbus mutters something under his breath, growing frustrated with the situation. Chandler stands, getting in Corbus' face.
[Chandler]: This man is dying, you were eating the food of the good people back at home! Sit down and shut up.
Corbus remains silent as he sits down, filled with dismay. There is shouts and the sounds of cans being knocked over. The shouts were that of men. Zani begins weeping loudly as Chandler cuffs Zani's mouth, attempting to block out the noise. The shouts grow dimmer.
[Jaxar]: They could have Elize..
[Corbus]: If they got to her, she's probably dead.
[Chandler]: She's tough, she can hold her own. Who knows, maybe they got food or something.
Chandler begins walking toward the noise. Colbat places Zani's arm around his neck to act as a crutch as Zani tightly clutches his side and begins limping forward.
[Chandler]: It's coming from the northern quadrant. Keep moving.
They stop behind at the beginning of an aisle and slowly creep forward until they are halfway down the aisle. Jaxar, Zani, Colbat and Corbus are all behind a blockade made of crates while Chandler is on the other side horizontally of the aisle, crouching behind a large rubber tire.
[Jaxar]: We should go.
Chandler peeks from above the tire, seeing a large fire with corpses burning. Men savagely are tearing apart roasting meat over the inferno. Zani moans, startling Jaxar, who backs up slowly before crashing into the shelf of the aisle. The savage men turn their attention to Zenith's people. There was a moment of silence, a moment that stretched for eons, filled with fear, weariness and uncertainty. Then, the bullets begin raining down.
[Chandler]: GET DOWN!
The Zenith members crouch. Corbus pokes his head up and grits his teeth as he jerks back, the gun firing. Each bullet shot left a spark and the loud bang. Shells bounce of the ground. Steam erupted from his gun as Corbus ducks down. The adversaries returned the gunfire, except it seemed to be incessant. Inches from Chandler's face, bullets tear through the tire. Chandler tenses, biting down but remains calm. He picks up his weapon then looks at Colbat, who shakes his head. Chandler lets go of the weapon, allowing it to rest against his chest. Chandler thinks, trying to figure a way out. He picks up his gun and fires, hitting one of the ravagers in the leg. Colbat accepts this after nodding his head a little, pounding his fist on his ground. This was his routine, he was trying to force out some adrenaline. Colbat leaps up and fires his gun, hitting a large crate hanging over the ravagers, which from the contact, falls down below. The ravagers all leap to dodge the hazard. Clang! Clang! Clang! The bullets bounce off a large crate about a foot over Zani, who was catching his breath. The crate is whacked by more bullets as it skims off the edge, plunging below. He heard it before he felt. The crate shattered upon contact into Zani's side. His bad side. The scabs tear open as Zani bites his bottom lip so hard blood seeps through. Tears forcibly choke their way out as Zani groans, going unconscious from the pain.
[Zani]: Uhh.
The noise was all he sputtered out before he was comatose.
[Jaxar]: Zani!
Jaxar looks to Colbat, who applies pressure to Zani's wound. Colbat scoops up Zani, carrying him like an infant as he stands, sprinting back. Inches from him the bullets harmlessly bounce off the ground. He felt some of them whiz by, leaving only fear in his mind. Colbat reached the end of aisle and places Zani down next to him. Chandler looks to Jaxar.
Track: Esveta-Secession Studios
[Chandler]: I'll cover you, go!
Chandler stands, firing his weapon vigorously. Jaxar begins pumping his arms, furiously pushing his legs as he runs at full speed, fearing for his life. After checking one last time, Chandler also hurries down the aisle as bullets ring in his ears, the sounds echoing through his mind. Corbus shoots, hitting one in the throat as the bandit drops to the ground, bleeding out. Corbus turns, seeing the entire group was down the aisle besides him. He snarls, scrunching his nose as he slides into the shelve, crawling back.
[Corbus]: Hey assholes, thanks for the help!
Jaxar turns, facing to the left. A body was slumped on the ground, unconscious, but breathing. He sprints over and turns it over, revealing a pummeled face masked with blood.
[Jaxar]: Elize?
She weakly groans in response, causing her to engage into a series of coughing fits. Jaxar puts his hand around her head, lifting it up gently.
[Elize]: I...I killed...that-that man...
Elize weakly points her finger to the right as Jaxar sees a carcass, laying on its back. Letting it all out, Elize doesn't even attempt to wipe away the tears.
[Jaxar]: It'll be okay. We'll get you help.
Suddenly, Chandler is behind Jaxar. They both help up Elize as she leans on Jaxar.
[Chandler]: Time to go. Move to the van, I'll cover you!
Jaxar nods as he huddles forward, keeping a pace that Elize wouldn't struggle with. Chandler front rolls before firing his weapon then crouching behind the end of the aisle. Colbat picks up Zani but groans as a bullet whips through his leg. He grunts, trying to push past the pain. Chandler looks at Colbat disapprovingly.
[Chandler]: Don't strain your leg. Listen, we can make it out of this.
[Colbat]: Go! I'll be right behind you!
Chandler gently slumps Zani's body which was limb like a rag doll as his blood poured onto Chandler's jacket. He looks to Colbat. Colbat looks at the blood dribbling down his leg as he leans on the aisle wall for support.
[Chandler]: You got everything under control?
[Colbat]: Yeah, I'll be fine. Now, go!
Chandler nods, keeping one eye on Corbus and the other on the enemies.
[Chandler]: Alright, I'll see you out there.
Colbat looks to Corbus, who squirms out of the shelve and is now next to Colbat. Chandler kicks open the door and shuts it behind him.
[Corbus]: Let's get the hell out of here!
[Colbat]: I'll cover you and then-
BLAM!
One of the enemies fires his weapon into Colbat's other leg.
[Corbus]: NO!
Colbat hollers. Colbat begins crawling away but the enemies shoots at his elbow caps, blowing them off. Blood and flesh splattered everywhere. Behind them, the gunfire ceased as the ravagers slowly advance forward.
[Corbus]: I'm sorry, but I do what has to be done. I'm sorry it was you they left. You were the good one. You aren't suppose to die.
Colbat is seething with rage as he hollers in pain, tears dripping down his face. The pain was unbearable as he continues shrieking. Corbus has tears streaming down his face as he aims his pistol at Colbat's head. Colbat struggles but looks up and nods at Corbus, begging for mercy. Corbus shoots Colbat's head down into the ground and rips off Colbat's backpack before turning to flee. As he exits through the door, he sees Colbat, body already turning cold, laying in a pool of his own blood, silent, and Corbus looks away, showing remorse in his expression. Then, the ravagers attack the corpse, tearing him apart with their bare hands as they growl, snarl, and bite. Corbus barricades the door as he sniffles, showing sorrow for what just occurred. The van's engine was running a few feet away. Corbus hustles over. Chandler rolls down the window and sees the absence of Colbat, before exiting the car.
[Chandler]: Where's Colbat?
[Corbus]: He didn't make it. I did what had to be done.
Chandler falls to his knees, his bottom lip quivering as he cries. Hard. The first time he wept this hard in years. He begins screaming, pounding his fists on the asphalt like a child throwing a tantrum. All the sound was drained as Chandler only heard the thumping in his chest of his beating heart. No other sound. His face crumples as his cries, mouth open, saliva flying. Chandler calls out for his friend,
[Chandler]: COLBAT! COLBAAAAAT! COLBAT...
His echoing screams fade away as he is unable to scream any louder. Chandler was unable to breath because he was crying so hard. As the sadness turns to rage, he lunges, taking down Corbus. Corbus lets out a large grunt as he smacks against the pavement. Chandler takes a swing then another before smashing Corbus' face into the ground. He groans as his vision grows into black spots and he is smacked unconscious. Chandler doesn't stop. He connects his hands together and brings it down onto Corbus' face. Chandler pulls out his pistol, shoving it against Corbus' forehead. Jaxar leaps out of the car, holding him back. Images of Chandler and Colbat together flash in Chandler's mind repeatedly as his seethes turn to breathes and he realizes he almost killed Corbus. He almost did away with what Colbat had taught him for so long. Chandler grabs Corbus by his shirt, pulling his unconscious face close to Chandler's. Chandler scrunches his nose in disgust before spitting on it and slamming his body back into the asphalt. Thunder booms over head as ash begins drizzling down from above. Chandler sits, still laying on his knees as the moaning returns, crying out for his friend.
[Jaxar]: We gotta go, Chandler. We have to.
There is a banging on the barricade wall. Frightened, Jaxar tugs Chandler into the van as Jaxar pushes down on the steering wheel, causing the car to jerk forward, zooming away. Chandler was in the back row, laying down, as he was crying so hard that he skipped breaths, calling out for his friend. Jaxar sniffles, thinking of Colbat before smashing down on the gas pedal, speeding up the car. The supply crew team is battered. Now it the only uninjured member was Jaxar. He couldn't do it alone. The thought terrified him.
Chandler was in was wild, weeping to himself. He thought of himself, talking to Colbat.
The residents of Zenith are all mushed against one another in the mess hall. Panic dwells over them as a sea of murmurs dies down when Scott stands on a table. Outside, the harsh storm vigorously hurls ash everywhere. Thunder booms.
[Scott]: Stay calm!
[Man]: What's going on?
[Man 2]: Why is this happening?
Other indistinct shouts are heard as Scott riles them down.
[Scott]: This ash, it's dangerous.
[Man 3]: Are we gonna die?
Scott, initially intimated, clears his throat, now firmer in his tone.
[Scott]: The sun is slowly getting blotted out. I know that. The ash is hazardous. Don't breathe it in. Try to stay indoors, if you go outside, wear dampened masks or bandanas to avoid breathing in the ash. It could kill you.
[Woman]: Where's Marge?
The shouts return as slowly, the sky grows darker. Scott lights a lantern that was swinging off the ceiling. The blue streak of lightning crackles, followed by the colossal rumble of the thunder. Scott looks at the people. Their faces were covered in fear, insecurity and other unsettling emotions.
[Scott]: Marge and I will handle this.
Wind begins blowing ash into the mess hall as the citizens disperse, heading indoors rapidly. The farmers stand near Scott's side, now equipped with masks dipped in the lake. Scott looks at them, uneasy.
[Scot]: Grab the shovels, we got some digging to do.
Taking a deep breath, Scott ties the mask around the back of his head as he picks up his shovel, which was resting against one of the benches. He closes his eyes, then descends through the endless blowing ash.
Serene. That was what his grave looked like. In the midst of a vicious storm, the only thought that peeped into Obadiah's mind was how calm and serene Sket's grave appeared to be. Obadiah is kneeling next to the lump where Sket's body will eternally rest. He has yet to move in the past few hours. Obadiah picks up some dirt in his hand then clenches his fist, letting the dirt drop out from the sides of his hand. The air was thick, musky. Hard to breathe. Obadiah sees the ash drizzling down. He is silent, listening to the thunder shaking. Obadiah feels the trickling of blood racing down his chin. At first, he does nothing but as the blood stains into pants. Then slowly, hesitantly, he stands. Obadiah forces himself to throw each leg in front of the other, dragging himself away from his friend. The ash surrounds him, creating a layer over the grass. Behind him, merely a few feet away, lightning crackles like a whip and hits tree. Obadiah did not even flinch, continuing his slowly walk to Zenith. After a few minutes of walking, Obadiah pulls open the secondary gate, shutting it behind him. He sees a woman walking toward him. Obadiah knew her. Barbara.
[Barbara]: Hey!
She looked furious. She had a bandana tied around her nose and mouth. Barbara notices the blood on Obadiah's chin and his trousers covered in dirt.
[Barbara]: What the hell are you doing?
Obadiah, sarcastically, responds.
[Obadiah]: Getting some fresh air. You're uh, the engineer's lady right? Stewart his name or something?
[Barbara]: His name is Shiloh.
[Obadiah]: That's it...what a great name. I love it. Maybe I'll get a dog or something and name it Shiloh.
He smirks, knowing that he was pissing off Barbara.
[Barbara]: You should really get inside Obadiah. This will kill you.
[Obadiah]: I'll be fine.
His scrunches his nose a little when he talks and feels blood from his nose. The salty taste of blood brushes onto his lips and dabbles a little into his mouth. Barbara notices this and attempts to gently smile but realizes she is wearing a bandana.
[Barbara]: You have to go see Ember.
[Obadiah]: Shut up, I'm not in the mood. I'm not going to see a damn doctor for a nose bleed.
Barbara flexes his hand, attempting to brush her off his words that irked her and stay smug.
[Barbara]: It's not safe out here.
[Obadiah]: Why do you care?
[Barbara]: Why wouldn't I?
Obadiah shakes his head in disbelief. The storm picks up as the winds get stronger. The winds coo, singing their whispering songs. Obadiah listens to the wind as it blows ash everywhere.
[Obadiah]: Listen bitch, I'll say it again. I'm not in the mood. Get the hell out of my way.
Barbara stands in disbelief, awed at how rude this man was. He brushes past her, bumping her shoulder, shuffling toward the elderly center.
[Barbara]: Asshole.
She begins to follow him but stops herself, twisting around and beginning to walk the other way.Obadiah enters the elderly center and turns, locking the door behind him. He then goes from door to door to ensure the safety of each resident. He closed every open window and fed all those who were angry. Then, finally, he enters Sket's room. It was exactly the same as it was this morning. Obadiah sits on a plushy, thick chair and begins thinking.
The prison had a pungent odor. That was Spade's first thought as she was thrown into a cell, which consisted of a bed, which was just a cot with one pillow and a blanket and then a toilet. It was exposed. Spade already hated it. Outside the cell, Snax was at his desk, going through a dusty photo album. He spots a photo of Gunny, carrying an infant Marco, their son. Snax smiles weakly as his thumb rubs against the corner of the photo. The window next to Snax was smothered in ash, blocking out any visibility. The ground shakes as thunder rumbles. Spade approaches the edge of her cell, wrapping her hands around the bars.
[Spade]: I need to use the toilet.
Snax remains silent as he flips the page of the photo album. It was a picture of him, Scott, and Chandler building the walls. He remembered the day it happened so vividly. Marge took the picture. Gunny was behind her, trying to calm down a wailing Marco. A tear drips onto the page as Snax sniffles, brushing off his sadness.
[Spade]: Did you not hear me? I gotta go the bathroom. I need some damn privacy.
Snax continues to ignore her, smiling at a picture of a waddling Marco in a diaper.
[Spade]: Hey asshole!
[Snax]: Shut up.
Spade's frustration was rapidly growing. Snax closes the photo album then opens a drawer in his desk, placing it gently in there. Snax pulls out a notebook. It looked worn, aged. He sets it on his desk but is unable to bring himself to open it. Snax stands up, organizing the books on his desk.
[Spade]: You got to be fucking kidding me. Stop ignoring me!
Spade's frustration develops into Spade being irate. She takes off her boot and chucks it at Snax. It whacks him in the head. Snax stands, lunging at the bars as he emits a terrifying roar, loud enough to cause the bars to shake. He was inches from her face, saliva flying out of his mouth and onto her face, sharp teeth exposed with the lips peeled back, exposing his gums. His grasp dented the bars. Spade scrambles back, retreating to her bed. She was ghastly, terrified and forced herself to choke back tears. Snax snarls before returning to his desk, managing to calm down. The notebook had crumpled corners.
Snax remembers when he received the journal: It was days after the death of an old friend, when Snax and his group had defeated a god. The rogue Contmellia. It was the last time Snax had seen Kon, a twisted man who use to be Snax's best friend. The last adventure he had with a good ending. The simple days. The next day, Gunny and himself went to a Plumber base, receiving his mother's, Auma, items. In it was a series of journals, a mysterious pod, and other arbitrary items. Gunny was clutching her stomach, where their unnamed child had began developing. Soon, their thoughts of Zenith would turn into a reality.
Back in the present, Snax returns from his thoughts of a moment from so long ago. The jail was illuminated by three candles on Snax's desk. They were the only light source. Spade sat in the dark, recovering from what happened moments ago. Snax inhales deeply before opening up the journal to the first page. He quickly snaps it shut before sighing. After a few moments, Snax opens the notebook once more and begins reading the life of his mother. .
Entry #1
I've made mistakes. I know I have. I know I'm not a good or moral person, but I have ethics, I have standards. I take drugs, I drink alcohol. I've made mistakes. But I've stopped. Only twice have I relapsed. This time, it's for good.
My name is Auma. I'm an Appoplexian. I'm pregnant. My baby's daddy is gone, maybe dead, I don't know. He's not here. I was left on the streets, scavenging. He's the reason why I became addicted.
I shouldn't talk about him. There's point honestly. I' fear for my child's life. If I miscarriage, I don't know if I could move on. So much shit has happened to me this last two years. I might just break down completely, withering away.
What if the baby is born? He could be messed up. And that would be on me. I've failed this child, but if he turns out to be healthy, I'll know truly there is some greater force. I was never much of a religious woman, but a healthy baby would be a miracle.
I can't this battle alone. I knew somebody would be out there, who would help me. I couldn't spend the nights alone on the streets, unprotected from anyone lurking nearby. I guess not much scares me anymore.
This man, an old friend of mine, he took me in. C'hacca is his name. He can be an asshole, but we all are sometimes. Not the brightest man alive, but his egotistical nature gave him many advances in his career. He's a pimp. I never worked for him, I never that type of work in general but he was ranking in a lot of cash. Cash I needed. So I play nice, do little house errands for him, hoping to maybe earn enough to raise this baby of mine.
In the midst of all these thoughts, I've never thought about what to name him. I asked C'hacca one day, and he responded, "Call 'em Joseph. Always loved that name." Based on the coloring off his eyes, I knew he was high but I considred the name. I really did.
Ultimately, I decided on Berasnax, or Snax for short, named after the middle name of the greatest man I ever knew, my grandfather, Edwin Berasnax Halprin. Halprin was my maiden name.
The day my son was born was going to be one of the best days of my life. I anxiously awaiting it. It seemed so soon yet so far.
On a different note, this morning was awful.
In the morning, everything seemed fine. C'hacca sat across from me, two girls sitting on either side of him. As they giggled and played with his hair, I was counting his money for him. He smiles at one of the girls. What a disgusting pig. The skylight overhead allowed light and warmth to pass through the panes of the windows. C'hacca waves off the girls as they leave. He stares at me. It was daunting, as if her were starring into my soul, knowing all my fears and regrets, tearing me apart from the inside. "What?" I question, feeling insecure. He snorts, a white powder residue noticeable on his face. "You're high, don't do anything stupid," I attempted to speak with authority but ended up sounding like a teenage boy, my voice cracking as I hold back tears. C'hacca was a physically unimposing man. He was short with stick-like limbs. However, he was a dirty fighter. My heart pounded in my chest. C'hacca bursts out laughing as I am burning with rage. I stormed off to my room, collapsing onto the bed. I normally sleep during the day and help C'hacca at night, because that is his office hours.
I talked to Snax more than anyone. He probably didn't hear me, but I was his mother, and already I loved him more than anything else in the world. As my whispers coo to him, I roll onto my side, drifting off to sleep. What a morning, I thought to myself as I rub my stomach with one hand, the other resting under my head.
That was the end of the first entry. Snax snapped the journal shut. It had been nearly half an hour to read the single passage between rereading things, analyzing, having to stop for a few moments then begin and so on. Snax wipes away tears that are dripping down his face and stands, tying a bandana around his face. He dribbles some water onto it and heads toward the door. Spade had built up her courage, returning to her usual attitude.
[Spade]: Wait! Can I have food or something?
Snax, not speaking a word, turns around to face Spade. He pulls down his bandana and blows out the candles. Little trails of smoke emits from the wicks. Spade sits in the darkness on her bed as Snax shuts the door behind himself.
The flames crackle as the tips, violently lashing around. The group is huddled around it, desperate for its warmth. Chandler was shirtless with bandages wrapped against his wounded torso. A wet cloth lay rested on his forehead as he was running a high fever. Chandler was away from the fire, resting in the cold. Yet sweat still beaded on his face. His breaths were frantic, spasmodic. The group is eating some berries.
[Ahsas]: I hate this.
[Scott]: What?
[Ahsas]: Zenith. I hate it. We're locking ourselves up in a cage.
Chandler weakly lifts his head and neck up, leaning on his elbows.
[Chandler]: Bullshit. We always have lived in a cage, but now we control the cage. We made it ours.
[Gunny]: Chandler, go back to sleep you need to rest.
Ahsas moves closer to the fire, where fiery orange flames trickle into the air. Flashes of Seeryt and Rocky, the two most important men in her life whom both are deceased, appear in her mind. Ahsas tries to stay calm but her breathing grows faster as she stands, looking around.
[Snax]: Ahsas?
Her exhales grow deeper and deeper and she turns, sprinting off. Chandler, concerned, sits up as he begins to hobble off. Scott races in front of him.
[Chandler]: Scott, get out of the way.
[Scott]: You're still recovering from that bullet and you have a raging fever. It could be infected and we barely have any medicine left. Sit down. Now. You look exhausted.
Chandler is too weary to protest as he crumples back onto his spot, which was a blanket over the grass. The fire dies down. The blazing inferno began to give way to soft, half-heart crackling from deep within the blaze. As it consumed the last few breathes, the fire began to slow, become lethargic. The members of the group all drift off to sleep, assured Ahsas will return when she wants The last life of the fire crawls across the blackened logs. Chandler lay awake, his eyes peeled on the woods. He thought about Ahsas, then his mind drifted to Colbat. With great might, Chandler missed his friend. Soon, his eyes grow heavy as he falls asleep as well.
[Farmer]: This smells like shit!
Scott and the farmers, all wearing dampened bandanas, were shoveling ash into a burning pit, with amber colored embers proudly blazing. A large cloud of smoke rises from up the huge fire. The smell of burnt ash reeked. Scott lifts up a heavy scoop of ash, tossing it into the fire.
[Scott]: Just keep going, we gotta make it safe for the people!
[Farmer 2]: Hey boss, not to be a downer or anything, but the ash is still coming down. Who knows how long it will be? We could be shoveling for days.
[Scott]: You just gotta have faith.
[Farmer 2]: I do, I really do, but uh, do you have any idea what it is?
[Scott]: I never really thought about it.
[Farmer 2]: I was thinkin, this place is filled with old radiation, so maybe that has something to do with it.
[Scott]: Yeah...that makes sense. I'll talk to Marge about it.
Scott scoops up more ash fluently then hurls it into the inferno. It was a routine. The sky was a lighter shade of orange as the sun appeared to be going down. It was still over the horizon. The normally green sky was magenta on one side where the moon was rising. Earlier, the sky couldn't be seen at all but the ash fall reduced greatly. Scott wipes the sweat off of his forehead, as the tireless work continues. The farmers continue in silence, focusing on their task. Scooping up another pile, Scott inspects the ash. It was metallic but flimsy. He decided not to touch it and incinerates it in the fire. Scott notices two of the farmers harvesting crops from underneath the ash. With uncertainty, Scott approaches them.
[Scott]: That can be unsafe to eat.
[Farmer 3]:It's all we got. We'll have to take what we can get. Most of the crops are ruined and we'll have little food for winter.
[Scott]: Harvest it out for now, but do not send anything to the supply pantries until I tell you. Got it?
The farmer nods, stripping the vegetable of its ears before placing it into a wooden weaved basket. Scot grits his teeth before twiddling his beard, thinking.
Bartholomew was not a man of reason. He was a coward. Dressed in a thin fabric white fabric which was stained gray from the dirt caked in it with a purple vest over it, Bartholomew was a green alien covered in scales with bumpy skin. His body odor reeked as Bartholomew paid little attention to his personal hygiene. Marge assigned him leader of the construction crew, but that did not mean he deserved it. He was considered to be a weasel, cowering in fear most of the time and avoiding all blame, putting it on others. Additionally, the man was very greedy. Bartholomew was a large man, over the average weight by far. Today, with the harsh weather, he had on two wet bandanas tied around his face, as one could not reach around his face. With heavy breaths, Bartholomew shook his head, weary for the slightest of physical work. On an average day, Bartholomew just barked orders and then planned during meetings with Dagon, the architect of Zenith who values hard work and good ethic above physical brute. Bartholomew stood across from the other members, who were digging plots to insert steel beams, which were found in the rubble of an old neighborhood. Dagon stood next to Bartholomew, yelling toward a large mint-colored man, who had beefy muscles in his arms and was probably the tallest man in Zenith.
[Dagon]: Aero, remember to build the foundation around the plot so the beams stand upright without getting wobbly.
Aero was his name. Wearing a helmet given to him by his father, Aero was dressed in armor. He had a temper. Aero loved the thrill of physical work. He worked hard at what he did, determined with might that could rival the celestial gods. Wearing a thin black sleeve on one arm and a brace on his other bicep, Aero often injured himself because of his enjoyment with action. The other member of the construction crew was Chyeene Meadows. A timid girl, often conflicted with self-doubt. Her Kinercelean powers were defected by the radiation. She had on a blue shirt, with bright red padding on top of it and special pants that will rip if she runs. A strange device is on the center of her belt, which monitors her heart beat in case her powers end up killing her. She had freckles on her pale, blue face. Her purple eyes showed depth, that there was more to her than she wanted to reveal. There were about six or seven other members, who were covered in sweat and all were wearing masks or bandanas as well. Aero bumps past Chyeene as she faints. Aero scoops her up, hollering at Bartholomew.
[Aero]: I'm taking her to Ember!
He sprints off, carrying Chyeene's comatose body in his arms. The ash falls down gently, like snowflakes. Behind the walls, a trail of smoke rose from the blazing fire which was being used by Scott and the farmers to burn the ash. Bartholomew turns, seeing two men exit the gates. Tarner Clifton, the sniper who had just recovered from an illness and Shiloh, the engineer who manages the solar panels. Dagon warmly greets them over, irking Bartholomew.
[Bartholomew]: Why are you out here?
[Shiloh]: Aero told us to. He was frantic and couldn't explain.
[Tarner]: Chyeene was in his arms, unconscious.
[Dagon]: We know. She collapsed and Aero was taking her to Ember. We could always use more help. Bartholomew, assign them tasks, I gotta go help over there.
Bartholomew cocks his gun, which was in its holster, to attempt to intimidate the two men. Tarner sniffles then spits out saliva from underneath the bandana. Then, he quickly tightens around his face. Shiloh shifts his weight between his two feet before adjusting the bandana tied around his face.
[Bartholomew]: Alright, you two will be working where Aero was. He was digging a plot for the foundation of the expansion walls. Those steel beams...
He points to the steel beams.
[Bartholomew]: Don't touch them. Aero will take care of that part when he returns. For now, focus on creating a durable sod pile around the plots so we can stand the beams upright with support.
Tarner and Shiloh pick up shovels, digging them into the warm soil then plunging them out. Together, they silently dig up the plot deeper and wider. Bartholomew and Dagon continue their conversation.
[Dagon]: These beams, they were made to be floor panels or something, but they make a hell of a wall once we put the plates over them.
[Bartholomew]: They're heavy, that's for sure.COL
A few yards away, a loud snarl is heard. Initially, it is dismissed but then a large figure lunges out. Lips peeled back, the monstrous beast had its barred teeth showing, The beast pats itself on its face with its front left paw. Gurgling, the beast hurls up ash mixed with blood. The teeth were now pink, stained with the taste of iron and salt from the blood. Bartholomew holds up his gun, fear dwelling in his mind.
[Bartholomew]: Stay in formation!
All the members, guns raised, stand in line. Tarner and Shiloh, unsure, attempt to follow them. Shiloh then breaks off, jogging to the beast and shooting at it.
[Dagon]: What is he doing, he'll die out there!
Dagon attempts to sprint forward but Bartholomew grabs his arm firmly.
[Bartholomew]: He broke protocol! He's already dead. We have to stay together. Together we survive. Divided we die. We protect the bigger group.
Tarner swings at Bartholomew, knocking him to the ground. Bartholomew was comatose before his face smashes into the sod.
[Tarner]: Asshole!
Shiloh continues firing his weapon. BRAKKA! BRAKKA! BRAK'KA! The bullets whiz at the animal, who howls as one grazes it side. The gun begins to click as Shiloh realizes he is out of ammo. Shiloh lets it slump by side, as a strap over his chest keeps it connected to him. Shiloh pulls out a knife.
[Shiloh]: Come on!
Behind him, Tarner is sprinting at him. The beast snarls, lunging at Shiloh who dodges it but trips on a log, his ankle twisting.
[Shiloh]: Gah!
He begins climbing away, terrified. On his elbows, Shiloh dwindles as he hears a piercing shriek. He turns, seeing Tarner plunge his knife into the back of the beast's head. Tarner helps Shiloh up. After a few steps and lots of wobbling, Shiloh recovers as he leans on the wall panel. Tarner turns to the construction group. Rage boiled over him. Tarner grabs the recovering Bartholomew by his collar, pulling him up.
[Tarner]: You left him to die shithead! You fucking coward! The idea to save the bigger group is stupid. If we work hard enough, everyone can be save. Letting people die, that's on you. You killed every one of those who trusted you to lead them, to let them thrive!
[Bartholomew]: We have a system! You've got no idea what the hell you are talking about! No idea what we have been forced to do to protect the bigger group! Dagon, tell him!
Dagon, now realizing the sins he made, turns toward Bartholomew. He brings his knee into Bartholomew's crotch.
[Dagon]: Asshole.
Bartholomew groans before vomiting. Dagon rolls him over, punching him again. Tarner holds him back.
[Tarner]: That's enough for now. You wouldn't get any more satisfaction.
Shiloh pulls Dagon away from his gaze at the groaning Bartholomew, who was still on the ground.
[Shiloh]: What do you normally do after shit like that happens?
[Dagon]: We clear out for the day. Noise attracts more of them and we tend to be overly cautious.
[Tarner]: No, we can finish this. Even without Aero and Bartholomew, we can set up the last few beams and then you and the crew can put on the plates tomorrow. Let's do this fast, before the storm picks up again.
Dyron lays, seemingly strained, his face grim, as tears bubbles out of his eyes. Ember was over him. He hovers a flashlight over Dyron's eyes.
[Ember]: Follow the light without moving your head.
Ember moves the light around. Dyron struggles, but manages to keep his sight on the light. The veins in his eyes were visible.
[Ember]: Can you tell me what happened?
[Dyron]: My...my bandana..got dry..
Those were all the words he could sputter out before his body begins vigorously shaking.
[Ember]: JAELYN!
Jaelyn rushes in. Ember is restraining Dyron, who slowly stops shaking. Ember looks to Jaelyn, worried.
[Ember]: I don't know what to do with this ash. I need to study it, some how create a vaccine for it or something. What if it never stops? We'll all die. This stuff is toxic.
[Jaelyn]: I'll talk to Marge or Scott.
Ember scribbles down notes onto his clipboard. He smiles at Dyron, whose breaths were rugged and uneven.
[Ember]: We are getting medicine when the supply crew returns. Hopefully, we get more painkillers. We're out of those.
[Dyron]: Thanks.
Dyron groggily turns onto his side before drifting off to sleep. In the other room, there is shouting. Jaelyn rushes in Chyeene onto one of the beds. Aero is there, drowned in sweat and frantic.
[Ember]: What happened?
[Aero]: We were out working on the expansion unit and she just collapses.
[Ember]: Did she inhale the ash?
[Aero]: I didn't see.
Ember feels the bandana covering the bottom half Chyeene's face. It was dry.
[Ember]: That's it.
[Jaelyn]: What?
[Ember]: People are getting ill because their bandanas dry and shrivel up, leaving them to inhale the ash. We have to keep the bandanas moist so we can breath. The ash is absorbing all the moisture in the air. It isn't the ash that is killing us, it's the dry air. There's probably very little moisture left. Think of it like you are on a really really high mountain and the air is thin. It's like this, but this is approximately one million times worse.
Jaelyn turns to Aero.
[Jaelyn]: Thank you for bringing her in. You did the right think. Ember and I will take care of her from here.
Aero nods, looking at Chyeene then turns, leaving the infirmary. Ember checks her pulse. She was alive.
[Ember]: The consumption of ash could shrivel up your lungs. This is deadly.
He tears off Chyeene's bandana, exposing her mouth. Blood trickled out of the corner of her parched lips. Chyeene's lips were cracked, raw, even bloody. Ember turns to Jaelyn.
[Ember]: Let's pray the supply crew gets here soon. We need whatever medicine they manage to find.
Marge strikes a match, carefully kindling one of the candles on her desk. Across from her was Shiloh, looking worn. Sweat and dirt was caked on his nails, his skin. Weariness drowned him.
[Marge]: I understand you and Tarner helped with the construction crew today.
[Shiloh]: Yes.
[Marge]: Why?
[Shiloh]: Chyeene got hurt and Aero was taking her to Ember when he saw us. We told him we would help.
[Marge]: So why are you here?
[Shiloh]: Aero came back and Dagon said we could leave.
[Marge]: Dagon? Why not Bartholomew?
Shiloh flexes his knuckles, trying not to anger himself. Remaining calm, Shiloh spoke with a monotone voice to keep the pure disgust and hatred out of his voice.
[Shiloh]: There was an incident.
[Marge]: Go on.
[Shiloh]: Some sort of beast came out of the woods. Attacked us. He left me to die. Everyone listened to him and he told them to stay in formation, to abandon me when I could have been easily saved.
[Marge]: So how are you sitting across from me right now?
[Shiloh]: Tarner. Damn it...the man saved my life. Dagon tried to help, but Bartholomew wouldn't let him. He physically restrained Dagon. Tarner got pissed, all up in Bartholomew's face. Things went south but Tarner restrained himself from physical violence. After that, Bartholomew just sat by the wall, looking irate as Dagon led us. We were very productive under his leadership.
Marge focuses on her notes, scribing the story down in her journal. Shiloh begins seething.
[Shiloh]: He is not a leader. He doesn't deserve this.
Marge stops writing, looking into Shiloh's eyes. She saw this violent hatred, this look of a man who would kill. It was terrifying. Marge oppressed this with ease. All her life she had spent in fear. Additionally, she knew Shiloh. Deep down. beyond the rage and hate, he was essentially a good man. Collected and calm, Marge spoke. She knew how to deal with men, or women, like this, when they were vulnerable because of their rage. She would rile them down, make them calm, not tear them apart.
[Marge]: Thank you Shiloh. I will deeply consider this.
There is a knock on the door.
[Marge]: Come in.
Denise, holding the hand of a small, Appoplexian child dressed in an unzipped maroon jacket, revealing the cream colored t-shirt underneath. The boy wore baggy jeans and had a wide grin spread across his face. Shiloh looks to Marge before smiling lightly then leaving. The boy sits across from Marge, struggling to hoist himself onto the chair.
[Boy]: Is my daddy here?
[Marge]: Snax is sick right now, Marco.
Marco, Snax's son, nods. As far as he knew, his father was sick a lot. Marco spend most of his days in Marge's office. At eight years old, Marco could be considered an orphan as his mother died when he was three and he rarely saw his father. Marge and Denise watched over him most of the time. Snax usually took him only at night so Marco could sleep in his own bed. Marco sniffles, thinking of Snax. Denise smiles, lifting his chin.
[Denise]: Why don't you do some of your school work?
Marco becomes glee again, opening up his notebook as he doodles in it, kicking his feet bubbly. Marge gets up and closes the door behind her. After a few seconds, Denise comes out as well.
[Marge]: How much longer can we lie to this boy? We've told him the same excuse for almost half a goddamn decade.
[Denise]: He's a smart kid. I see it. He will find out his father is avoiding him.
[Marge]: It's irresponsible.
[Denise]: If you and Scott had a kid, and Scott died in your arms, and all you saw in the boy was Scott, how could you do anything but resent him?
Marge is silent, attempting to choke back tears.
[Marge]: Gunny was my best friend. I loved her like family. I think about her every goddamn day.
She quits talking, unable to force out the words. Denise awkwardly rubs her head before changing the subject.
[Denise]: What about this ash fall?
Marge takes a couple seconds to recover but she manages to speak clearly.
[Marge]: I have some ideas to what caused it. None of my theories have really panned out yet. I am strongly considering pulling in the construction crew for the day, or even until this ends.
[Denise]: We don't know when or if it will end. What if we are plunged into some sort of ice age? We both know Zenith can't survive that. The survival rate on Kronos is low without freezing temperatures and toxic ash. With both of these? Uninhabitable.
[Marge]: I only hope we can the supply crew back before nightfall. We need supplies soon.
[Denise]: You can't avoid what I just said.
[Marge]: I don't want to discuss it anymore. If the storm continues overnight, I'm making sure everyone stay indoors.
Denise shakes her head in agreement.
[Denise]; I told Scott I would go help with Jaelyn's room.
[Marge]: Alright. See you later?
[Denise]: Yes.
Marge embraces Denise into a hug before Denise turns, walking off with her pink legs scattering over one another in a repeating pattern. Walking through a set of walls, all painted the same faded color, Denise heads toward Jaelyn's old room, which was trashed by Spade. After a few minutes, she arrives at her destination. The door was barely on the hinges, looking ready to crumble away. Denise gently creeps it open as she scurries inside. Countless broken items and trash was scattered everywhere. With a weary sigh, Denise pulls out a garbage bag. For what seems like an eon, Denise shuffles around items, placing fragments of sharp objects into the bag. In the corner, a bucket was filled with a yellow liquid. She shakes her head in disbelief.
[Denise]: Who would urinate in a bucket? Disgusting!
Denise refrains herself from gagging. Her entire life she was raised to stay hygienic There was a knock on the door. Denise shuffles around, terrified. She slowly creeps toward the door, holding out a sharp piece of metal fragment. The edges were jagged and rough. With fear dribbling over her, Denise swings the door open. It was Jaelyn.
[Jaelyn]: Hey.
[Denise]: Hello.
Denise awkwardly shuffles her weight between her six legs. She was always introverted. Excelling at cerebral knowledge and mental work, Denise was not exactly succeeding with the emotional and social aspects of her life. There was very few people she trusted in Zenith with her life. Marge, Scott, Chandler, and a few others. The rest, Denise would be terrified just to be speak to.
[Jaelyn]: I just came by to get some uh, personal items.
[Denise]: Okay. Marge sent me to clean up the mess Spade had made earlier.
Denise returns to collecting trash and broken items, attempting to avoid sparking a conversation. Jaelyn opens a drawer, scooping up some clothes. With staggering effort, Denise hoists a broken slab of granite. Jaelyn turns, rushing over as she picks it up from Denise's meager claws.
[Jaelyn]: Denise, that was way too heavy for you to pick up.
[Denise]: I know.
[Jaelyn]: Then why did you pick it up in the first place?
[Denise]: No one else will. I have to do the task Marge assigned to me...I have to..I have to honor my word.
Her bottom lip begins quivering. Jaelyn sighs, placing her clothes onto the broken bed frame. She kneels next to Denise, who initially shrivels back but allows Jaelyn to embrace her into a hug.
[Jaelyn]: You shouldn't have to clean up someone else's mess.
Denise chokes back tears and sniffles.
[Denise]: I don't mind. I like helping. I like making a difference.
Jaelyn tightens the hug, leaving Denise confused as to why Jaelyn would help her. Denise barely knew her and Jaelyn did not owe her any favors.
[Denise]: Why are you helping me?
[Jaelyn]: I could ask the same to you. This is my home, my responsibilities. You don't have to any of this.
[Denise]: I want to help. I do.
Denise then begins cleaning once more, adjusting a pulled out drawer from the dresser so it slides back into place. Jaelyn drops to her knees as she begins picking up debris. Then, she stops. Looking at a orb, a sigh of relief washes over Jaelyn as she gently places it on top of her dresser.
[Denise]: What is that?
[Jaelyn]: Memories.
Jaelyn grins, brushing off the orb. She turns to see Denise collecting some broken pottery.
[Jaelyn]: Why is it that you chose to be Marge's sidekick?
[Denise]: It's not like that. I'm an apprentice, she mentors me.
[Jaelyn]: I know it's your choice, but I wouldn't want to spend my day running errands and cleaning.
Jaelyn shrugs it off, realizing how rude she began to sound. Denise heard it too and became defensive. Her social awkwardness returned as she did not know what to say.
[Denise]: It's not your choice.
The two become silent in cleaning as Denise dumps the bucket of urine out the window.
Shiloh hated larceny. When he was a boy, he lost his father for three years because he robbed others. Yet, Shiloh craved whatever alcohol was left in Zenith. Craved wasn't the right word. He needed it. Sobriety was a tough thing to him. He has relapsed multiple times until Barbara promised him she would leave him the next time an alcoholic beverage touched his lips. So Shiloh pandered, sitting on his couch in his housing unit, starring at the bottle of scotch he stole. Then, he slurped it down, so familiar to the taste it barely burnt his throat. After that, everything turned woozy. He was comfortable until his eyes crept open and he saw Barbara swinging open the door, pulling off her badana. Rage poured over him. Barbara glances at him and then inhaled.
[Barbara]: Are-Are you drunk?
[Shiloh]: W-Why does it m-matter?
He belches, eyes lazily swinging close as he groans, a whelping pain in his head.
[Barbara]: I think you should go.
[Shiloh]: Sometimes I think, I-I think about us as a family. You...me..and our kid. O-Our kid never got a chance, Barbara. YOU KILLED IT!
He furiously smashes the scotch bottle onto the ground as it shatters into pieces. Barbara squeals in fear as Shiloh leaps off the couch, getting dangerously close to her face. He reeked of alcohol. Shiloh was inches from her face. She saw everything: the stubble, the look in his eyes for proof that he was intoxicated. Shiloh continues chastising her. Tears swell up into her eyes. Her cheeks grew rosy.
[Shiloh]: I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl! Our kid...oh god..our kid....you killed it! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TELL ME! So long ago...my child died so long ago...years...
Shiloh drops to the ground, letting the inhuman sobs fly out as he lay huddled. Shiloh had no one to go to for comfort. No mother. No father. All he had was Barbara. Deep regret grew over him as he saw Barbara slumped, succumbing to her sorrow. Her chest was heaving as her mouth let out large sobs. Shiloh extends his arm, laying it on her shoulder to comfort her. Then a stinging pain lurks over his chin. He stumbles back and tries to register what just happened. Barbara was deeply breathing, gritting her teeth as tears dripped down her cheeks. Her fist was in the air. That is when everything registered in Shiloh's mind. She struck him.
[Barbara]: IT WAS MY CHILD! MY CHOICE!
She shakes her head disbelief.
[Shiloh]: Barbara? I'm sorry..
Barbara turns to face him.
[Barbara]: GET OUT! GET OUT AND DON'T COME BACK! DON'T EVER COME BACK! GET OUT!
She screams with all her might as more tears slide down her face. This man was tearing her apart emotionally. With a deep sniffle, Barbara keeps a strong face as Shiloh shuffles out. When he slams the door behind him, Barbara resumes to her weeping.
[Scott]: Keep pushing!
Scott's body ached as he shovels more ash. The farmers were weary. Scott sensed the fatigue in his own body but kept pushing. Suddenly, a flash of lighting zips down, hitting a few feet where Scott was. He goes flying, his body colliding into the side of a shed. Scott groans as he sees blood soak through his shirt. Then the adrenaline disperses and he really felt the fatigue, the sting of sweat dripping into his wound. He sees a wooden plank with a jagged edge wedged into his hip. Scott groans, biting down as he pulls it out. Thunder, so loud it causes Scott to cover his ears, rumbles. The ground shakes. He sees two farmers with charred bodies, smoke erupting from their corpses. The lightning must have struck them. The remaining farmers look to Scott, terrified. Weakly, Scott barks a final order.
[Scott]: Get inside! NOW!
The farmers disperse in various directions, running for their lives. Scott rolls over, clutching his wound. Marge. The name appeared in is mind as the adrenaline returns, forcing him to stand upright as he hobbles toward the front gate. Terrible images swirl through his mind. He thinks of the charred bodies. Scott would not dare to think if Marge could be like that. The main gate was a head as Scott yells in pain, sprinting.
[Voice]: Scott?
It was Marge, her voice muffled by the bandana. She was sitting on the unkempt sod, squeezing it between her fingers. The ash near the main gate was thin.
[Scott]: Marge!
He collapses beside her. They sit shoulder to shoulder in front of the main gate. The light faded and faded as the sun curves over the horizon. Marge listens to Scott's rapid breaths through his bandana.
[Marge]: Why are you out here?
[Scott]: I heard the thunder.
[Marge]: I did too.
[Scott]: It scared me, Marge...I needed to make sure you are okay.
[Marge]: We need those supplies the crew brings back. Ember told me he needs them right away. I only hope they are alright.
[Scott]: It's dangerous out here. The sun is going down. It will be impossible to see your own hand in nightfall.
[Marge]: They'll be here before then.
[Scott]: Marge, promise me that if no one comes by nightfall, you will come with me without any resistance. Promise me Marge. Please.
[Marge]: I promise.
[Scott]: Thank you.
[Marge]: You need to stop worrying about me so much. I can take care of my damn self.
[Scott]: I promised your father I would protect you as long as I live and even after that.
Scott brings her into a warm kiss. Her hand goes against his hip as he groans, breaking away. Marge spots the wound. Fresh blood still soaked onto Scott's shirt. Marge looks at him.
[Marge]: You need to go to Ember.
[Scott]: I'm fine.
[Marge]: Stop being such a hard ass. Go to Ember.
[Scott]: I will later.
Marge reluctantly agrees. The sound of a vehicle approaches the gates. Overhead a few yards away, in the watch tower, Tarner yells.
[Tarner]: It's them!
Marge leaps up, jogging toward the gate. With great might, she pulls open the gate. It slowly cruises forward then stops. The headlinks blink off. Jaxar exits the driver's seat.
[Marge]: Jaxar? Why are you driving?
Jaxar sniffles.
[Jaxar]: I was the only one able to.
Scott, shaking his head in disbelief, runs over to the van and pulls open the back door. Chandler was there, wallowing in his sobs. Elize was badly beaten, laying on her back. Zani was barely alive, ghastly pale with a dangerously large wound on his side. Corbus was unconscious, his hands bound as he was slumped on the ground.
[Scott]: Where's Colbat?
Jaxar begins trembling.
[Marge]: Jaxar! Where's Colbat?
Chandler sniffles then points to Corbus.
[Chandler]: He killed Colbat.
[Marge]: Elize, Zani, Corbus. You all need to go the infirmary now. Scott, you can take them. You need to go anyway. Chandler and Jaxar, you are coming with me. Tarner!
She calls out to Tarner.
[Tarner]: Yeah?
[Marge]: Come down here...now!
Tarner slides down the ladder smoothly, sprinting over.
[Marge]: Unload the supplies and have them taken over to my office. Denise will be here shortly to help you.
[Tarner]: Yeah..okay
He looks at the beaten supply running crew.
[Tarner]: Yeah...
Scott, Zani leaning on one of his shoulders and Elize on the other, begins hobbling toward the infirmary. Corbus was slumped over his shoulder. Marge sighs then looks to Jaxar and Chandler, who was emotionally wretched.
[Marge]: Follow me.
The walk to her office was both pleasant and unpleasant. While Tarner and Denise unloaded supplies, Marge had Chandler sit outside her office while she interviewed Jaxar. She opens up to a fresh, clean page in her notebook. With her pen ready, Marge asked the first question. Various candles illuminated the room.
[Marge]: What happened to Colbat?
[Jaxar]: No one saw. We were all...attacked by, uh, these people and then we got out of the store. Those ravagers, they had weapons...they are dangerous. Then I saw Chandler beating up Corbus, who admitted to...
He is unable to finish. Marge finishes writing this down and looks up.
[Marge]: Thank you, Jaxar. Send in Chandler on your way out.
Jaxar nods and stands from his seat, walking out of her office. After a few seconds, Chandler is slumped in the chair across from Marge.
[Marge]: Chandler, can you tell me what happened to Colbat?
[Chandler]: That son of a bitch..Corbus..he murdered Colbat in cold blood..I swear to God I'm going to kill that asshole if it's in my dying breath!
He pounds his fist on Marge's desk, chipping the edge of it.
[Marge]: You're emotional...I get it..you can't be rash. Stay focused and Corbus will get justice.
[Chandler]: An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth....a life for a life..
This frightened Marge but she shook it off.
[Marge]: Thank you for your time.You can go now.
Chandler looks at her, desperate, showing vulnerability before returning to the empty, hollow shell. The void of emotionless trauma he was facing was slowly eating away at him. He stands, pushing the chair in slowly before sauntering out of the room, closing it gently behind him. Marge sits in disbelief. One of the oldest members of Zenith, a core member, was dead. His life was taken by another member of Zenith. As Marge rereads her notes in her journal, there is a knock on the door. Without looking up, Marge answers.
[Marge]: Come in.
Denise enters the room with the final shipment of supplies gathered. It was Colbat's backpack. Next to Marge's desk was various backpacks and duffel bags.
[Marge]: Denise, can you start taking inventory?
[Denise]: Yeah.
Denise opens the first backpack. It had a battery pack, some medicine, and a couple canned goods. Slowly, she pulled out a bottle of pain killers. The bottle was splattered with blood. She holds it up to Marge.
[Denise]: This was Colbat's bag.
Marge sadly looks away, her lip quivering. Denise then puts the bag aside, scribbling down the number of items Colbat acquired onto a paper. Next, she begins the next bag. Attempting to distract herself, Marge pulls out an old blueprint and begins modifying it, erasing vigorously then sketching new additions. Denise pauses her task after the third bag, moving over to Marge's desk. She looks at the blueprint with wide, innocent eyes like a puppy.
[Denise]: Are those more expansion plans?
[Marge]: Yeah.
[Denise]: What kind of project is this?
[Marge]: I don't know. It's an expansion unit near the secondary gate.
[Denise]: I like it. A lot....do you think we can make it happen?
[Marge]: If we made all of this, what we have now, then we can make this.
Marge rolls up the blueprint, putting it back into the basket. Then, she begins Denise counting the supplies they received.
Snax licks his fingers, scraping out any other food that was in the can. The others do the same, attempting to savor every last drop of food they had. Food supply was running low again. Chandler pushes the hair out of his face, slurping out of the can. His head goes up as he then adjusts the bandage in his chest.
[Scott]: Chandler, go easy on yourself.
[Chandler]: I'm fine.
Using his elbows, Chandler pushes himself upward, now sitting upright. Pain spread across his face as the wound got pressured by his weight. In the woods, there is shuffling. Snax aims his weapon at the woods.
[Gunny]: Calm down, it's probably just an animal or something.
Snax slowly lowers his gun. Marco coos in Gunny's arms. Suddenly, a man approaches the group from the woods with his hands raised in the air. Snax raises his weapon once more as does Scott, Marge, and Ahsas.
[Snax]: Who the hell are you?
[Man]: My name is Colbat.
Chandler stands, forcing himself past the pain as he stumbles, leaning on Colbat for support.
[Chandler]: This is my friend...he-he saved me.
[Snax]: Can we trust him?
[Chandler]: Yes, I did with my life.
Colbat smiles warmly. Marge tugs at Scott then cups her hand over his ear as she whispers.
[Marge]: I've never seen Chandler so protective of someone.
Scott shrugs it off, stroking his beard.
Jaxar knocks on her door. Chyeene opens it slightly then when she sees it's Jaxar, swings the door wide open. He gives her a bag.
[Jaxar]: Here's the anti-depressants you asked me for.
[Chyeene]: Thanks.
She has a somber attitude with her voice coming out muffled.
[Jaxar]: Listen,Chyeene...I don't know if I can do this much longer. What if Marge finds out I'm smuggling prescription drugs to you? We'd both get banished.
She sniffles, terrified at the thought.
[Chyeene]: I'm sorry..it's just...I need these pills...without them I don't know if...
Chyeene stops, unable to finish her sentence. Jaxar pulls her into a hug.
[Jaxar]: I know, I'm sorry. I'll see you tomorrow.
Chyeene smiles weakly at him as she closes the door. Jaxar turns, walking down the hall. He enter the stair case, ascending to his room. Thoughts raced through his mind as he continued upward, his hand gripping to the hand rail. When he reaches the floor, Jaxar exits the stairs and goes into the wall. A man in a hood was there, leaned against the wall. His hood concealed his face while the zipper was halfway zipped. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Jaxar picks up the pace, not wanting any trouble. The man grabs Jaxar by his shirt, slamming him into the wall. Jaxar saw the man's face, which was swollen and brusied. It was Corbus. Corbus seethes as Jaxar, saliva flying out of his mouth.
[Corbus]: Colbat's death? That's on you..you caused those mother fuckers to notice us...they attacked because of you..You!
Corbus slams him against the wall again. Jaxar groans as the wind gets knocked out of him. His vision blurs as Corbus' words echo in his mind, haunting him.
[Corbus]: You piece of shit...It should've been you instead...I had to kill an innocent man because of you! YOU!
The fear in Jaxar turns to rage as his hand clumps into a fist and he swings at Corbus. His fist connects directly with Corbus' jaw, sending him crashing into the ground. Jaxar clutches his fist in pain, shaking off the pain. His knuckles were raw, bloody. It was a solid punch. Corbus didn't get up. He was unconscious. Jaxar shakes his head, unsure of what he just did as he turns, sprinting to his room, terrified and awed that he fought off Corbus.
Marge, wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt that was way too big and underwear, but everything under her stomach was concealed by a thick blanket. She was laying on her bed. Scott comes in, tearing off his bandana.
[Marge]: You go to Ember?
He nods, pulling off his shirt. There was a big bandage wrapped around his wound. Scott takes off is pants as well, as he is wearing only boxers now. With a grunt, Scott collapses on the bed next to Marge.
[Scott]: I love you.
[Marge]: I love you too.
Scott places his palm on her cheek as the kiss. Marge pulls away.
[Marge]: The ash, it could go on for days. Our supply crew took a big hit today. Only Jaxar is currently fit to go another run. Chandler, he's a wreck. Our supplies were already dwindling.
[Scott]: Stop worrying for a second. Do you have any ideas what the ash is?
[Marge]: Radiation from the atmosphere that clumped into a solid form and fell down.
[Scott]: That's, uh, specific.
[Marge]: It was Denise's theory.
[Scott]: I mean, it definitely sounds plausible.
Marge sits up, clutching her stomach. Scott worriedly looks at her.
[Scott]: Everything okay?
She turns to him, looking anxious.
[Scott]: Marge?
She grabs his hand and places it gently on her stomach then looks into his eyes.
[Marge]: Scotty...I'm pregnant.
Scott goes silent, thinking of what to say.
Chandler grits his teeth before spitting. He was outside in the dark, by the lake with no bandana. Ash gently hovers on the ground. Chander lets the tears pour out, but he doesn't cry. Biting down, Chandler leaps into the air, smashing down his staff as he crashes down. Then he swings the staff as he twists around. Lightning crackles, illuminating the epic scene of heavy ash fall surrounding him. After the quick flash, the darkness returns.
[Chandler]: He's dead...
Chandler fights through the pain, bringing the staff closer to him as he thrusts it out before leaping again and bringing the staff down. A few seconds later, thunder rumbles. Chandler twists in mid-air as he swings the staff around, this time bringing the staff down which could be a dangerous blow to an adversary.
[Chandler]: He's dead...
Chandler, frustrated with everything, hurls his stick onto the ground as he drops to his knees, crying. Blood flows out of his nose. He is silent, listening to the thunder and the sound of the lake water moving. Then he looks up, hollering.
[Chandler]: HE'S DEAD!
Chandler grabs his staff, clutching it tightly against his body.
[Chandler]: Dead...
Jaelyn sits, back huddled against the wall. Her new housing unit was empty. Default. Bland. The wall had fresh paint. The stench of paint filled the room. She had lit the candles, but they were the older ones so then the odor of melting wax then stunk up the room. She missed her old unit. Fear dwells over her. Everything was so different. The bed, the bathroom. Jaelyn always was hesitant to change. Frustration grew over her.
[Jaelyn]: This isn't my house...I want to go home...
The thoughts of Spade's threats return. She wipes away a tear as she stands up, making her way to the bed. Laying down, Jaelyn only thought about the threats more and more. Shaking her head, Jaelyn tried to act strong. She bit down on her tongue, not letting herself get upset anymore at the threats. Attempting to distract herself, Jaelyn looks out the window. Ash drifts down. One sticks to her window. She examines it closely. Miniscule green dots illuminate ash. It was beautiful, almost like a snowflake. But she knew the truth. It was radiation, doomed to kill them all. Wind blows the ash away as Jaelyn returns to her thoughts, drifting off to bed. Then, it becomes unbearable. Jaelyn rushes out of her new room and to the only person she could think of in her hysterical state. After heading down the hall, Jaelyn stops at one of the doors. She knocks on the door gently, trying not to wake up the rest of the hall. Denise opens the door.
[Jaelyn]: Do you mind if I, uh, crash here tonight?
[Denise]: Sure. Is everything okay?
Denise pokes her head out, looking at both sides of the hallway.
[Jaelyn]: Umm...yeah, it's just that, I'm not comfortable in the new unit I got. It's just...something is off about it..
[Denise]: Okay.
[Jaelyn]: And especially with the Spade thing today..I just..don't what to be alone...
Jaelyn weakly smiles as Denise cracks the door open wider and she enters.
Obadiah, shirtless, inhales as he walks through his housing unit room and onto a plushy, thick chair. With an exhale of weariness, Obadiah rests his feet on the recliner of the chair. Next to him was a miniscule fridge. Taped to it was a photo of him and Sket, both visibly younger. Obadiah looks at the rings on their fingers. Sobriety rings, a symbol of devotion they had to get clean. Obadiah had been sober for twenty years before he relapsed. Sket was the man who helped him, who pulled him away from this dangerous lifestyle. Shaking his head, Obadiah groans before opening the fridge. Inside was rows of beer cans. A few years ago, Obadiah put them in there in case he relapsed. Now, when he thought about it, Obadiah doesn't know why he did it but he was glad. Without hesitation, Obadiah opens the can, listening to the bubbles deflate. He brings the cold liquid to his mouth, glugging it down. He thinks of Sket before finishing the can then opening another one. His thoughts get woozy after he downs a third one. There was no hesitance, no urgency to stop. By the time Obadiah downed a dozen beer cans, he felt terrible. Sick to his stomach, Obadiah realizes the mistake he just made. [Obadiah]: Shit.
He tosses the empty cans onto the ground as he groans, aching. There is a knock on the door.
[Obadiah]: Fuck off!
The knock continues. Obadiah belches three times before moaning. With another burp followed by a gag, Obadiah vomits everywhere. Crying, Obadiah sits in his tears mixed with sweat and vomit. He does not move nor does he attempt to clean up. The knocking on the door continues. Obadiah screams, hysterical.
[Obadiah]: LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!
Obadiah, now weeping, tosses an empty beer can at the door. The knocking grows louder, quicker, and firmer. The door rattles from the pounding. Obadiah yells, covering his ears with both of his hands. The vomit slides down the chair, oozing onto the ground. Obadiah rolls onto the ground, clutching his stomach. Someone was now banging on the door now.
[Obadiah]: I have a gun! I have one! I swear to God, I will shoot the shit out of you..leave me the fuck alone you-
He hurls, clutching his stomach tightly. Wiping it off of his face, Obadiah begins crawling toward the door, dragging one of his legs as he lacked the energy. The banging continues to ascend in violence. Woozily standing, Obadiah creaks the door open. No one was there. Hesitant, Obadiah swings the entire door open. No one was there. He pokes his head out both ways. No one.
[Obadiah]: What the...
He shuts the door vigorously before heading into the bathroom. He stares into the mirror, looking at the bags under his eyes, the stubble on his chin. His mind was playing tricks on him. Obadiah knew it now. The only thing knocking on the door was his conscience. Obadiah splashes water on his face, clearing off the vomit. He blows out the candle in the bathroom and heads back into the main room. He glances at the vomit everywhere.
[Obadiah]: I'll clean it tomorrow.
He promises to himself as he goes into the bedroom, collapsing onto his bed before the pain reached his head. Alcohol always left him with colossal migraines. As Obadiah attempts to focus on anything but the pain, his bottom lip quivers as thoughts of Sket forge into his mind. With a sniffle, Obadiah defuses the remaining candles, leaving only one kindled as he drifts away into the vast unknown of his dreams.
The ash had stopped for the first time in the morning. Everyone, excluding a few, was gathered in their most elegant attire outside the secondary gate, where a headstone was placed. Colbat. It read, engraved on the stone. On each side of the headstone were two large, thin candles. Marge kindled them as everyone stood in silence. Flowers were in front of the headstone, were the body would have been. Everyone began to shed tears. It was gloomy out. The sun was out, shining but no one felt happiness from the return of its warmth. There were no smiles, no joyful appreciation for this man's life. Dull, gloomy sobs. Chandler stared straight ahead, out at the trees. His face was perfectly still and serious. The sound of nature overtook the funeral as animals chirped and croaked. With final goodbyes, the citizens of Zenith headed toward the mess hall. It was a slow and painful journey, as no one spoke. Death in Zenith was rare. Soon, people made their way into the mess hall. Everyone takes a seat in the mess hall, where the celebration of Colbat began. Aero spots Corbus sporting a bruised cheek and a swollen jaw from the confrontation with Jaxar last night.
[Aero]: Hey, you alright?
Corbus shrugs him off, attempting to distance himself from others. Scott steps up to the front of the mess hall and begins delivering his eulogy with a crisp, sharp voice.
[Scott]: I met Colbat ten years ago when Zenith was still an idea, not a reality. I was a bright-eyed, ambitious renegade who loved playing on the wrong side of the law. I had recently escaped a cult, the Forever Knights, because I knew the mortifying deeds they did. I'll never forget the morality of Colbat. He valued life like no other. During a very difficult time, five years ago, an event called Morningstar occured. When everyone else was down, mourning, Colbat thrived. He gave Zenith the morale to rebuild, to become better. No one else got back up...but he did. After Morningstar, I was changed person. No one could see it, but Colbat would hear the strain in my voice, and see the fear in my eyes. Colbat took me off that dark path, he let me see what good I could do. Colbat will be dearly missed by friends, the family he has here. Zenith would not be the same without him.
Scott chokes back the tears and attempts to grin. The residents applaud Scott for his speech. Marge steps up, unfolding her eulogy. After hesitation, she tears it up. There are murmurs within the crowd.
[Marge]: Colbat was a simple man. He had ideas and he knew what he wanted to do with them. Colbat was a true man. He laughed, he cried, he fought, but he would never take another man's life. I could go on for hours talking about how kind of a man Colbat was. I don't need to. His acts don't go unspoken. People know the name Colbat and the legacy he leaves behind. Thank you, Colbat...for everything.
There is more clapping as Marge clears her throat.
[Marge]: Zenith is not use to this. People dying. But we will grow stronger because of this. We overcome any hardship thrown at us like the ash fall, Colbat's death...my pregnancy.
She looks at Scott, smiling. The residents looked shocked. Murmurs spread through the crowd, a wave of gossip, the flowing buttery words Marge is about to continue talking when Chandler rudely hollers out.
[Chandler]: This is bullshit! What kind of funeral doesn't even have a body?
[Scott]: Chandler, calm down.
[Chandler]: You calm the hell down! The people deserve to know what really happen to Colbat. Corbus killed him!
Corbus seethes. Chandler approaches Corbus and tackles him down. Corbus whispers loud enough only so Chandler can hear him.
[Corbus]: I'm sorry.
Chandler hollers as he brings down his elbow into Corbus' face. Corbus took it. He needed some sort of punishment, some sort of suffering because of this gnawing guilt corroding him.
[Corbus]: He was never suppose to die, I...I-
[Chandler]: I'll kill you!
Chandler head butts Corbus then swings at his face with dangerous might. Corbus squeals as Chandler throws three more blows all directly connecting to his face. Scott pulls at Chandler's beefy bicep but Chandler pushes him away as he clocks Corbus again in the head. Corbus' eye was swollen shut as he kicks Chandler off of him and stands, spitting out blood. Scott tackles down Chandler, handcuffing him. Chandler mumbles to Scott.
[Chandler]: What the hell are you doing?
[Scott]: Saving you from yourself.
He leads Chandler out of the mess hall. The people in the mess hall begin shouting, terrified.
[Man]: Zenith isn't safe anymore!
[Woman]: People are dying!
[Man 2]: Colbat was murdered by his own people!
[Man 3]: Chandler's insane!
[Marge]: Please calm down...you all need to calm down...
[Woman 2]: I just want my boy safe!
[Man 4]: False hope! This place will crumble! Zenith is nothing but false hope!
[Marge]: Calm down...calm..be quiet for just...
Denise zaps a large electricity bolt into the air, causing everyone to be quiet.
[Denise]: ENOUGH! All of you! We're trying our best, Marge, myself, and Scott to understand what really happened. Zenith is still the safest place on Kronos. If you want to go on your own, go ahead. We will keep you safe. You need to stay calm. Understand?
The riots dim down.
[Marge]: You got this under control?
Denise nods confidently. Without any other thoughts, Marge turns and begins sprinting after Scott.
Scott throws Chandler into Marge's office where he trips over his feet, his chin slamming into the ground.
[Scott]: What the hell were you thinking? Goddamn it Chandler...the situation was already screwed up, but you just went ahead and fucked it up some more! How could you be so stupid?
Chandler holds back his tears, filled with rage.
[Chandler]: They deserve to know what a self centered asshole Corbus is! He killed Colbat! Not those damn ravagers, not some wild animal, not the ash, it was fucking Corbus! He needs to atone for what he did. And if you don't do that, I will.
[Scott]: Stop pretending like you're some hero, like you are a vigilante in this town who is going to stop all the bad guys. This isn't so black and white Chandler. I spoke with Corbus. I know the truth. Colbat was dying, Chandler. It was mercy. There were no witnesses and I have no reason not to doubt him.
Chandler raises his voice.
[Chandler]: What man would admit to a murder? Are you stupid?
[Scott]: Chandler, you're my best friend. My best friend. I believe you on everything, I would back you up on everything, but you're emotional right now. Colbat was a good man, we both know that. I promise I will find out the truth to this whole ordeal. Just for now, stay calm, lay low. Stop bringing unwanted attention to yourself. First we find out the truth with Corbus.
[Chandler]: And what about the damn ravagers? Just let them live free? They have to die, Scott. I saw the way they were. Savages, unkempt, inhumane.
[Scott]: It's not our job to decide who lives and who dies!
[Chandler]: They attacked us! If Zenith doesn't do anything, I will.
Marge opens the door and shuts it behind her. Chandler gruffly stares at Scott then mumbles.
[Chandler]: I'm going to war.
He slams the door behind him.
[Marge]: What the hell was that about?
[Scott]: He's pissed off, vulnerable. Saying stupid shit.
[Marge]: His emotions could make him dangerous Scott. We both know Chandler. Sometimes, he doesn't realize what he is doing.
Scott nods, streaking his fingers through his hair.
[Scott]: Why are you here?
[Marge]: I don't know, I needed to make sure you and Chandler were okay..
[Scott]: Weren't the people upset?
[Marge]: Denise calmed them down.
[Scott]: What do we do now?
[Marge]: Those people need us. They're scared Scotty....people here..they aren't used to death.
Scott sits in his chair and begins twiddling with his beard, pondering. Marge pulls out the blueprint from the previous night and begins to continue her sketch, this time adding a public forum to the expansion unit. Denise busts open the door, out of breath and slams the door quickly behind her. Marge turns to face.
[Marge]: Everything okay?
[Denise]: The ash is back. It's not lightning or thundering, it's like a blizzard or something. It' s freezing outside and...
She huffs, out of breath. Scott stands up.
[Scott]: What about the people at the funeral celebration?
[Denise]: They scattered in a frenzy once the slightest bit of ash drizzled down.
Scott brushes a kiss to Marge then opens the door.
[Scott]: I'm going to check in with Ember to-
The loud roar of an engine is heard. Scott looks at Marge as they both sprint out. Marge places on a bandana but Scott forgets, sprinting. The van growls as it cruises out of the secondary gate. Scott chases after it with full speed, seeing through the side mirror the driver was Chandler, who was teary-eyed. Chandler mutters to himself, stating the plan.
[Chandler]: Find Colbat's body. Just go and..and..
He stops, unsure of the rest of the plan. The van was going at a slow pace as Scott is catching up to it. Chandler pounds the gas petal, causing the engine to groan as it cruises steadily ahead. Out of the window, Chandler sees the ash. It was metallic still but the small illuminating green was hidden by what seemed to be snow.
[Chandler]: Shit.
He had no choice. Chandler kept moving forward. Behind him, Scott succumbs as he collapses into the ground. Black spots cloud his vision as he sees his breath when he exhales. The temperature was rapidly dropping. Then, he hears Marge's voice as he gets dragged inside, back to safety, back to Zenith.
Ahsas digs the shovel in the pile of snow ash combination. It was a thick, slushy material. Beside her, Aero did the same. They both are wearing tightly tucked bandanas around the lower halves of their faces. It had been nearly two hours since the ash drizzled down now.
[Aero]: Why the hell are we doing this?
The blizzard whines furiously as vicious winds blow snow to the ground. The sky was dark as it was freezing outside.
[Ahsas]: No one else will.
She scoops up another glob of ash as she tosses it into the warmth of the toasty fire, which crackling tips of the flames whip around and amber flames trickle. Aero does the same, lingering near the warmth of the fire.
[Ahsas]: Stay focused.
[Aero]: I'm trying but, I'm freezing my ass off over here.
[Ahsas]: Then hurry up so we can be done.
[Aero]: It's still snowing Ahsas, this a waste of time. We should go inside where it is warm, and safe.
Aero puts his meaty hand on her shoulder. Ahsas ignores him, pumping her biceps as she continues lifting piles of ash and burning it. When he doesn't ease his grip, Ahsas brushes his hand off her.
[Ahsas]: Keep shoveling.
With a grim attitude and a dull frown, Ahsas hurls a pile of ash into the fire. Aero drops the shovel.
[Aero]: This is suicide Ahsas.
Ahsas grits her teeth, pumping her arms faster.
[Ahsas]: Just keep going...we gotta..push harder...push..
[Aero]: We'll die out here Ahsas!
She screams, pumping her muscles as she rapidly begins picking up ash and dumping into the blaze.
[Ahsas]: PUSH! Push harder! Push harder and don't stop! We gotta...we gotta push harder..
The shovel slips out of her hand as she collapses, succumbing to the fatigue, the cold, the fear. Aero looks around frantic. He hollers for help, but it goes in vain. The the blizzard muffles the loudest shout Aero produces. With no other choice, Aero grabs Ahsas by the wrists as drags her forward. He spots the watch tower and thinks of Tarner.
[Aero]: TARNER! TARNER!
He runs out of breath as his energy quickly depletes. In the tower, Tarner stands up, having been laying down to avoid the worst of the storm. Tarner was equipped with goggles because the snow and ash grew so thick and would fly into his eyes. One of them had bulging veins in the socket. Tarner mutters to himself, trying to block out the pain. The sniper rifle sits, untouched, leaning on the edge of the railing on the exterior of the tower. In the distance, Tarner sees a silhouette in the distance dragging another figure away from what seemed to be a large fire. Grabbing his weapon, Tarner looks through the scope. It was hard to see, with the snow blowing so violently. After adjusting the bandana on his face, Tarner slides down the ladder of the tower as he rushes toward the figure. Within a few seconds of sprinting, which consisted of pumping his arms and taking large steps, Tarner spotted the man who was carrying a woman. It was Aero, dragging Ahsas.
[Tarner]: Aero!?
Aero turns his head. Tarner saw his sunken in face. This man was barely conscious as he was so weak. Ahsas was comatose, her eyes shut tight.
[Aero]: Help...
[Tarner]: Where are you going?
With his beefy arm, Aero manages to point to the infirmary, which was only yards away. Tarner grabs Ahsas' legs as Aero holds onto her arms. Stumbling, Aero moans a low cry before continuing to shuffle toward the infirmary.
[Tarner]: Come on, keep going!
Tarner's bandana was dry and was sliding down his face. If he stopped to adjust it, Aero would not make it to the infirmary. And Tarner could not manage to carry Aero and Ahsas to the infirmary on his own. With his face exposed, Tarner attempts to hold his breath for as long as he could before the warmth of trickling blood covered his neck. It came from his ears and nose.
[Aero]: You okay?
[Tarner]: Just keeping going!
Aero nods as his helmet clangs against his head, projecting a metallic sound. It echoes into the cold, empty sky which could not be seen because of the intense storm. The warm air emitting from the infirmary pushed Tarner as he sped up. Aero felt the same way. They dragged Ahsas inside, busting open the door. Jaelyn shuts it behind him as they gently lay Ahsas on the ground. Aero groans as his body collapses, slamming into the ground. Tarner feels the rumble as Aero's colossal body smacks into the ground.
[Jaelyn]: Tarner...your face.
Tarner feels his cheeks. They were smothered in blood. His eyes were bleeding. Tarner tears off his goggles as he feels weak. Shaking his head, Tarner sits on the ground.
[Jaelyn]: Thank you for bringing them in. The storm is dangerous and we need to keep everyone safe. I need to make sure you are okay.
Tarner nods as Jaelyn begins inspecting his face.
Colbat swings his staff, missing Chandler's nose by inches. Chandler slides and whacks Colbat in the back of his thigh, causing him to stagger forward. A few feet away, Snax, Gunny, Scott, Marge, and Ahsas watch as the two men diligently duel. Gunny has Marco in her arms.
[Snax]: What's the point of this?
[Gunny]: Just enjoy it.
Fatigue grew over Chandler as he deflects another blow but is jabbed in the side. He succumbs to the weariness as he drops to the ground. With adrenaline keeping him awake, Chandler spots the staff about to come down onto his head as he scrambles up and lunges at Colbat, causing the blow Colbat sent to hit empty air. Snax continues his muttering toward Gunny.
[Snax]: Why are they fighting with sticks?
[Gunny]: Stop bugging me, Snax. Some people consider the use of staffs to be an art.
[Snax]: This is a waste of time.
Chandler twists his body during the lunge and whacks Colbat in the back. With a mighty groan, Colbat tumbles forward. Chandler grins before plunging his stick into the ground and walks over, extending his hand. Colbat grabs it and prompts himself up.
[Colbat]: Your skills with the staff have greatly advanced.
[Chandler]: Thanks. I think I even bruised you a couple times.
[Colbat]: Let's see how many bruises you get if I don't restrain myself.
As the two begin discussing, Snax, a little baffled at what just happened, returns to his previous work. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! He pounds on the metal beam with a long, thick hammer. Marco begins whimpering from the loud sound as Gunny comforts him with a lullaby, causing the infant to return to his cooing and gurgling.
Scott's eyes peel open, awakening from their dormant state of clamping shut. He was bobbing up and down and when he looked up, he realized he was slumped over Marge's back, who was sprinting toward the infirmary. He groans, weak, as his cracked lips puff out dabs of blood.
[Marge]: We're almost there, just hang in there, almost there....
Her concentration was unfazed. Nothing could stop her as she picks up the pace, step after step as she huffs, maintaining her breath patterns. Scott dazed between consciousness and his previous comatose state as the cold and the ash were getting to him. When he exhaled, the puff of visible air made Scott realize how cold he was as his jaw chatters, causing the shiver to run down his spine. His eyes drift close as he soon feels the warmth of the infirmary.
[Marge]: Ember!
She hollers out. Ember shuffles through the people huddled on cots on the ground.
[Ember]: Jaelyn, continue protocol for the normal ash routine. If there is any...exceptions to the normal reaction, call me over.
[Jaelyn]: Yeah, okay.
Jaelyn returns to mending an elder lady. Ember appears in front of Marge.
[Ember]: Are you alright?
[Marge]: I'm fine, thanks Ember.
Ember looks at the shaking Scott, who exhales deeply as his eyes flicker open and close. Kneeling, Ember clicks a button onto a small flashlight and shines it in Scott's eyes.
[Ember]: They seemed to be responsive and no irritation or blood.
[Marge]: His eyes? Why does that matter?
Ember turns to her.
[Ember]: It's a symptom of lung failure from the ash. He's gonna be okay, Marge.
Marge shakes her head vertically, sighing in relief as Scott slumps onto his side, now fully unconscious.
[Jaelyn]: Ember!
Ember stands, rushing back over to Jaelyn who stands and murmurs.
[Jaelyn]: We're almost out.
[Ember]: Of what?
[Jaelyn]: Everything. I've been trying to ration it out, using as minimal as possible, but with the ashfall, these people require medication. I don't know how much longer we can last.
[Ember]: Don't worry about it now. I'll talk to Marge about it. If the situation doesn't grow dire, just continue reducing it as much as possible. I trust you, I think you know what you're doing, so just keep doing it.
There is a gagging noise as foam erupts from Dyron's mouth on his cot. Ember turns sprinting over.
[Ember]: He's choking!
Briskly, Ember flips Dyron onto his side as vomit splurges out of his mouth. Gasping, Dyron groans as the sour taste erupts in his mouth. His breaths were rugged and uneven but he survived.
[Dyron]: That tasted like shit. I..I...thanks Doc'.
Ember nods before muttering under his breath.
[Ember]: This ash will be the death of us all.
Ember wipes the sweat off of his forehead before releasing a deep exhale. Retreating to the front of the infirmary, Ember quenches personal space and has a thirst for fresh air. Seconds grow into minutes as his breaths return to the even pattern. His chest rises and falls. Ember takes a moment to look at the infirmary. With the normal five beds occupied, cots were stacked against one another and were mostly filled, leaving little to no room for walking. The cabinets against the wall were nearly empty and only had one or two bottles per row. Lanterns and candles occupied every available space. His desk was covered in papers torn out from his clipboard, surgical tools, and sterilizing liquids. With a sigh, Ember prepares to return to the catastrophic horde of injured citizens until Marge makes her way over to him.
[Marge]: I'm going back out there, gonna see if anyone else is trapped.
[Ember]: There's no way. You're the leader of this place, Marge. If you go and get yourself killed and I know I could've stopped it, there's no way I could live with myself.
[Marge]: Stop thinking like that. I can take care of myself. I have to take that chance.
Without another word, Marge snatches her bandana and ties it around the lower half of her face as she opens the door and quickly shuts it behind her. Her words echo as she closed the door.
[Marge]: Keep everyone safe!
Ember shakes his head in disbelief as he turns, spotting Jaelyn inspecting Zani once more. Without speaking, Ember saunters over.
[Jaelyn]: He broke his stitches earlier. I managed to repair them. I've been trying to keep out infection with a warm cloth but his fever is still rising.
Zani was comatose, dreaming off in another world. Ember peels off the cloth, exposing the wound which was covered in crusty scabs and dried pus.
[Jaelyn]: I don't know if he's going to make it.
[Ember]: His kin is known for their accelerated healing rate.
[Jaelyn]: Sir?
[Ember]: You know his species, the-whatever, it doesn't matter at the moment. Get me the anti-bacterial cream.
[Jaelyn]: We're out.
[Ember]: He needs some antibiotics.
[Jaelyn]: I don't know....let me check.
She stands, scooting around cots as she unlocks a cabinet filled with medicine. Shuffling around bottles and containers, she pulls out one cylinder bottle and rattles it before tossing it to Ember. Ember shakes Zani gently, who groans before awakening.
[Ember]: Hey, it's okay. I just need you to take two of these tablets. In about three hours, call over Jaelyn so you can take another dosage.
Zani groggily nods as he takes the pills out of Ember's hand and puts them in his mouth, masticating them and then swallowing the remnants.
[Ember]: Alright, now just rest for a while.
[Zani]: Yeah...
Zani groggily replied. Ember looks at Jaelyn and weakly grins.
[Ember]: I know it's been a hectic day, but you're doing a great job. We will get through this.
Jaelyn's focus shifts to behind Ember, the corner of her lips going up.
[Ember]: What is it?
[Jaelyn]: Scott. He's up.
Across the room, Scott was limping, trying to walk and recover from his injuries. The wan skin had returned lightly to his original pigment. Looking around, Scott glances at the multitude of unconscious residents aligned on cots. Looking up, Scott sees Ember approaching him.
[Ember]: How are you feeling?
Scott is rubbing the back of his head, trying to ease the aching of his headache.
[Scott]: Better. How long...how long have I been out?
[Ember]: I'd say maybe half an hour since Marge came through with you.
[Scott]: Don't waste any more medicine on me.
Scott wobbly stands up, clutching to the desk next to him for support. He pulls a rag off it and dabs it into a bucket of water before wrapping it around his mouth. Then he turns, half sprinting-half limping out of the infirmary.
[Jaelyn]: He's too weak, he'll die out there.
[Ember]: I know Scott. He'll make it. He has to.
Glassy eyes, puffy cheeks, runny nose. Chyeene whimpers as she twists open a bottle and dumps a handful of pills into her hand. The pills Jaxar had given her the night before. She was sitting on her bed in her room. Without hesitation, Chyeene shoves the pile of pills into her throat and swallows them. Erupting into a series of coughs, Chyeene quivers before laying down. The pain resided almost immediately as Chyeene allows the wooziness, the feeling of distance from reality, overcome her. She lets out a happy grin. The pain was gone. All gone.
[Chyeene]: No more...I feel it. I feel happiness.
Her reaction was almost as if she had received a foreign value, an emotion that Chyeene did not utilize or even understand. She sits up and faces the wall.
[Chyeene]: Don't you?
There is no response.
[Chyeene]: They took away my medication. Said the pills were blowing up the blood vessels in my head, that I took too many. I need them...they don't know. It's not a craving thing or something I desire or even an addiction. I need these pills. You agree with me right?
With another lack of answer, Chyeene nods, seemingly have heard someone respond.
[Chyeene]: I could get exiled for doing this. I really could. But these pills take away the pain, the suffering. They make me happy.
Chyeene looks to the wall. The edges of her vision were blurred. A figure sits across from Chyeene. An older, maturer woman who was also a Kinercelean. The obsidian colored helmet on the woman's head resembled a dome with the back had a sharp slant descending downwards. Chyeene is revealed to be talking to the hallucination, which was a result from the tablet she had just downed.
[Chyeene]: I react to pills faster, since I'm a Kinercelean and all. One of the reasons the doctor felt like I didn't need the dosage I was taking. I need these. I'm depressed, I doubt myself. You understand, right?
[Woman]: Of course I do. You know I miss you.
[Chyeene]: Miss me? You're sitting right there.
The hallucination of a woman sadly smiles, her face strained.
[Chyeene]: You are sitting right there, aren't you?
[Woman]: I love you, Chyeene.
[Chyeene]: What?
The woman fades away as Chyeene grows dizzy and weary. The pills had entered the second stage of its course. Collapsing onto the bed, Chyeene groans as sleep overcomes her and she is pulled into the realms of dreaming. A grin was spread across her face as she went comatose but inside, the pain still remained.
The fear dwelling in her mind slowly faded. With courage, Spade lifted her head to see the jail empty.
[Spade]: Hello?
The window was wide open with vicious winds flying in. The candles were blown out, leaving the jail dimmer. It was haunting. Spade, although slightly bothered, was not being harmed by the wind. Then the ash hit. In clumps, it incessantly hurled through the window. Panicked, Spade grew depserate very quickly.
[Spade]: Snax! Sna-
Her cries grew muffled and were interrupted by a vigorous coughing fit. The warmth and saltiness of blood filled her mouth. The ash kept coming in.
I'm not going to die in here. Spade reassured herself.
Spade tears off her top, exposing her bra. She dunks the shirt into the toilet, moistening it and she wraps it around her face, protecting her eyes and mouth from the harmful ash. All light became blotted by the ash.
The darkness overwhelmed Spade as her breaths grew rapid. Stay calm.
The temperature rapidly dropped as Spade's body shivered, her jaw chattered as the cold left her bones heavy and her mind dizzy. Scrunching up into a ball in the corner of her cell, Spade focuses on the warmth of her breath into her damp shirt.
Just keep going. Survive. Just survive. The little voice in Spade's head was the only thing keeping her conscious.
The jail was suffocating with ash as it was shoved into the cell. Spade squeezes her eyes shut as tightly as she can but there was no end. The winds grew louder as the jail shook slightly and the rumbling of thunder boomed overhead. Her nails dug into the ground, clawing. Spade winced when the second round of thunder hit. It was right on top of the jail, with the thunder sounding as if a large object had crashed. There was a whispering hiss right before the thunder every time. Spade wraps the shirt around tighter, attempting to block out all sounds and noises.
I'm not giving up, I know what's going on. I can do this. I can. Even the reassuring thoughts led Spade to no comfort as her situation only grew more dire. She heard the door creak open as heavy, slow footsteps strayed in, heels lingering as if questioning the step. Spade glanced up, but the ash blocked out the thick figure. With a low whine, the figure collapsed onto the ground, something flinging from his hand. It was the key, mere inches away from the cell. Spade gets on her knees, snatching them quickly. After fumbling with them for a second, Spade pushes open her cell. She rushes over, closing the door. Ensuring the windows were shut, Spade quickly takes her shirt and dresses. Spade strikes a match then hovers it over a candle, allowing the warmth to run its way through her body. Slumping down until her back is against the desk, Spade shakes her head in disbelief. The figure was Snax, who was seemingly inert.
Is he dead? She is hesitant to check Snax's pulse. This is my chance, I could go, be free. But he could die. She stares at his closed eyes, questioning whether to stay and help Snax or flee a free woman. A raspy wheeze emerged from Snax which erupted into a hacking. He pulls himself up then looks at Spade, slowing collecting his thoughts. The anger in his face grew. He barks at her.
[Snax]: Get back in your cell!
[Spade]: I just saved your live. I could have easily left you here to die.
[Snax]: You should've.
The door strenuously whips open as ash hurls in. The wind was so strong, it caused Spade's tentacles to fly back. The two gambol toward the door, pushing it shut with all their might. The wind fights back, buckling against them. With every remaining bit of strength they shut it as Snax twists the lock clockwise.
[Spade]: When this whole thing blows over, I'll reutrn to my cell, but right now, I want to survive, and I think you do too, so you are going to help me and I will help you.
Snax growls, facing away from her. He was unresponsive. Spade groans, trying to think.
Marge slams the door behind her and peals off the bandana. She looks up to see Scott with a backpack on Marge's desk. They were in her office. Scott is frantic, shoving in a rolled-up tarp, a blanket, four water bottles and about a week's worth of rations. Looking around, Scott grabs a box of matches and two candles from the bookshelf. Scott does not even notice Marge and is prepared to walk out when she pushes him gently in the chest. He was rapidly breathing out of his mouth and sweat dribbled down his face.
[Marge]: Where the hell do you think you are going?
[Scott]: Marge, I don't have time-
[Marge]: Damn it Scott! You'll die out there! You are recovering for God's sake.
[Scott]: Chandler is my best friend. He saved me on Earth, in the Anur System, and here on Kronos. I owe him my life too many times to count. I have to go find him.
[Marge]: You don't even know where he is?
[Scott]: Where do you think he is?
Marge confirms his thoughts.
[Marge]: The warehouse. Where Colbat died.
[Scott]: Listen to me, I'll only be gone for a day or two. If I'm not back by the sunset of the day after tomorrow, you send two, and listen , only two, men to find me. The only reason why I wouldn't be back is because I'm dead. If I don't die, I will come back no matter what. Marge, this will work. I'm going to go get him and then I'll come right back. It's a simple plan.
[Marge]: He took the only car.
[Scott]: I have two working legs. I will be fine.
He brings her face into his as he tenderly kisses her. The kiss lingers as neither dare to break apart. His salty lips press against her sweet, thick lips. They mutually break away.
[Scott]: I love you.
[Marge]: If you die, our baby will never meet his or her daddy.
[Scott]: I won't let that happen.
He walks by her, tying a bandana around his mouth. Marge turns to make sure he is gone that she slowly murmurs under her breath.
[Marge]: Please come home.
His eyes blink open. Zani groans, feeling gross and disgusted. . To the right, Elize gently continued her routine of inhaling and exhaling. She was fast asleep. Her lips weren't creased and she looked relax.
[Zani]: Elize?
Pain stang at his side but he stubbornly sat himself up, his hand clenching to the side of his cot. However, he lost his grip unexpectedly as Zani then smashes onto the ground. The sudden lose of balance had caused him to wobble and fall. With great panic, Zani hears something in his side snap as he collided into the cold ground. Then, the puddle of blood appeared. Bubbling from his side was endless amounts of blood. He grew weak. Then the pain came. Tears were forced out of his eyes as he hollers with all his might, screaming and crying as blood dribbled out of his body. He sees Jaelyn rushing over as his vision grows dim and fuzzy.
[Jaelyn]: Oh my...
She covers her mouth in shock. Then she gets to work, putting gloves on as she pushes on the wound, putting pressure on it. Zani shrieks as he slams his legs and his arms flail.
[Jaelyn]: Don't move.
She grits her teeth as his wild arm smacks her in the shoulder. Attempting to restrain him, she coos to him to calm down as his thrashes continue. Her comforting words were to no avail. Jaelyn ceases to put pressure on the wound to grab a cloth and some surgical tools. Behind her, other patients stare, worried and feared. The occasional cough or moan caused the patients to stay far away from one another. Jaelyn pushes the cloth against the open wound as blood seeps into it. Then, she holds up a needle as Zani bites down on his lip with such force he might tear through it, Jaelyn stuffs a smaller cloth into his mouth as he chomps down on it.
[Jaelyn]: This is going to hurt like a bitch. I'm stitching up your wound. The other stitches broke during your fall. Just, try to stay still.
Without any indication of when she would begin, Jaelyn promptly takes the needle and penetrates the skin about an inch from the wound. Zani slams his hand down on the ground, begging, screaming as it was muffled by the cloth. Tears forced out of his eyes, the pain thrashing about in his mind as it overwhelms him. Now silent and unconscious, Zani's rapid breaths drift back to the normal rhythm. With great focus and precision, Jaelyn continues stitching his wound.
His hands were trembling. He was unable to put his key in the slot, unable to twist it and hide away in his home. No, Shiloh made wronged the woman he love, and he felt remorse about it. And now, there was a terrible storm brewing outside. He did not know who was alive, who had died. Panic and fear dwell in his mind. Shiloh knows he does not deserve a woman as great as Barbara, but he loved her dearly. He pulls out a small box and then whips out a cigarette from it. Fiddling it through his fingers, he contemplates whether or not to reignite an addiction that he battled so long ago. The smoke aroma filled his nostrils, radiating off of the unlit cigarette. He hears footsteps and fumbles, sticking the entire box back into his back pocket. Turning, he spots Barbara. Instead jubilance soared through him. He stumbles and looks at her.
[Shiloh]: You're alive!
She yielded, hesitant and refusing to answer. Shiloh's heart dropped. He looked at her, sympathetic.
[Shiloh]: Barbara, I know what I did was...
Barbara shakes her head a little before standing proud and marched forward daunting. Her voice cracked as tears bubbled out of her eyelids.
[Barbara]: I love you Shiloh, I really really do...but you're tearing me apart. I get that their are no more pills to treat your...disorder, but-but you change so much sometimes and it hurts. You hurt me so much, and I don't know if I can do this anymore.
Shiloh raises his eyebrow in sorrow. She was referring to his bipolar disorder. It was fine when he was being treated by Ember with pills, but they ran out. He got moody, and very often. It was gnawing at him, the fact that he could not control himself and he hated himself for it.
[Shiloh]: We-we can make this work.
[Barbara]: You know how much I would love for this to work? I've been trying so damn hard, Shiloh.
[Shiloh]: Please don't do this. We could figure this out, together.
[Barbara]: Stop.
[Shiloh]: Barbara...
Shiloh solemnly outstretches his arm, putting his hand on her shoulder for comfort. She tugs back, twisting and stepping away.
[Barbara]: Don't do this to me, don't make it harder...
He hears her sniffle as she enters the stairwell. Thoughts raced through Barbara's mind. One foot in front of the other. She hurries down the stairs and then suddenly she is on the ground floor. She races outside, making herself keep the tears in. She looks around. Endless trails of ash everywhere. It was raining down from the skies. With her arms pumping by her sides, each step was a leap forward as the ash trailed on top of her. It kept her going. The ash overwhelmed her, but she didn't stop. She just kept running.
Arms pumping by his sides, legs leaping forward. His determination kept him going. Cold beads of sweat slide down his forehead. Scott's race is hampered by the blizzard. Ash hurls at him. The wind tears at him. The exposed skin is burning from the scraps and cuts. Scott sees a large snow covered bump ahead of him and hurries toward it. The nubs of his fingers were numb, which only accelerated his clawing away at the snow. Within seconds, Scott knows what his discovery was. A car. The windows were broken. Scott sighs, relieved, through his bandanna. Wiggling through, Scott notices all the seats and control panels were stripped. It's appearance was that similar to that of a box: Empty, plain with four corners. Scott stretches his legs across the floor and allows his backpack to slump off his back. He takes out a candle and kindles it.
A fire could cause the car to explode, his thought echoes in the back of his mind so Scott kept the candle light to a minimal.
Catching his breath, Scott pulls a bottle of water from his pack, only to see it had frozen. He holds it over the warmth of the amber flames, which were trickling over the solid chunk of water. Listening to the incessant gurgles of hunger from his stomach, Scott cracks open a bag of frozen peas. Rationally, Scott keeps track of the amount of peas he masticates. Then, he holds his other water bottles over the candle to warm them up. A photo of Marge slipped out of his bag as he stares at it, the corner of his lips curving upward.
[Scott]: I'm gonna come home, and I'll bring him back too. I promise you.
He kisses the photo before slipping it back into his backpack. He blows out the candle to preserve it, as the car had warmth opposed to the harsh, blizzard outside. Scott rests his head on the steering wheel, which lacked the wheel part and was just the cushion of what used to blow a horn.
Trees endlessly surround them. The chirping and squawking of animals are incessant. Chandler, freshly recovered from the piercing of a friendly-fired bullet, is silently moving forward. To his right was Colbat, who recently joined Chandler and his band of friends attempting to colonize on Kronos. On his left was noble man Scott, the man who switched sides of the law. They were silently conversing among themselves, while on the lookout for any possible food.
[Scott]: Colbat, what is it that you believe in? Chandler keeps telling me about your morals and ethics, I thought it'd be best to hear it from the man himself.
[Colbat]: Well, thanks Chandler. My beliefs are simple. I understand that there are two forces in the universe: the light, which all good comes from, and darkness, the roots of all evil and sin. There has to be a balance. There is no man who is all light or all dark, it isn't so black and white: it's a grey area. There is a mixture of both light and dark within all of us. The darkness is more persuasive, however, and it will easily consume you. The path's to the light and the dark are your own to choose, but others will help guide you. It is your choice, no one else's.
[Scott]: I've done things in my life that I'm not proud of, but I'm not considered evil.
[Colbat]: Everyone has their demons, but like I said, everyone is in the grey until their define their path.
[Scott]: Do you really think you can make in this world without killing?
[Colbat]: I've made it this far.
Scott sends a weak look to Chandler, who shrugs him off.
[Chandler]: This concept, that bad guys can become good, it changed me Scott. I wasn't a by the book man who you met me. I killed. I sinned, but my wrongdoings doesn't bound me to one path. I came into the light. I changed.
There is a loud moan as the three raise their weapons. Scott inches forward and pulls away a bush, exposing a wounded animal-like creature. It had horns, with thin wire-like hairs on it. The skin was rough and bumpy, almost turquoise in color. Purple splotches were all over the beast. Small spikes ran down the vertebrae. It was a four legged beast. On the hind leg, one of the bones was exposed, surrounded by raw flesh. Blood was pouring out of the wound. The whines of the creature was depressing.
[Scott]: Weapons down!
[Chadler]: That..thing, it'll never walk again.
[Colbat]: Killing out of mercy...is different.
Scott looks up at Colbat then nods at Chandler, who brings up his gun then smashes it down on the animal's head bluntly. The final whimpers stop as the sounds of nature replace the void.
The scene was serene. Ash fall had recessed greatly as snow lay flat on the ground. The whispering winds fade away eerily. Marge and Denise are outside the infirmary, on the balcony separating the building from the ground, both of them still equipped with the bandannas. Marge's arms were dangling off of the balcony, as she was leaning against the edge. In the middle of the balcony was one single step where the slushy snow and the hard wood met. Thoughts race through her mind, but then Denise breaks the eerie silence.
[Denise]: There's always a calm before a storm.
[Marge]: We could be in the eye of the storm.
[Denise]: Your optimism doesn't change any facts.
[Marge]: I'd let to think that isn't true.
[Denise]: People are scared. They need you to guide them. Show them the right path. All these years, you have watched over them, envying opposition and preaching as if you were their savior.
[Marge]: I don't speak empty words.
Marge looks at Denise, obliviously worried.
[Marge]: No one saw this coming, any of it. We were suppose to be a safe place.
[Denise]: We have to put a stop to the opposition. Overcoming hardship is how you can define who we are. If you can really be their savior, then no one could ever doubt you.
[Marge]: I don't care if any one doubts me. I'm here to get my job done, to keep the people safe.
[Denise]: You're the sole lantern kindled in a barren graveyard.
[Marge]: I'm utilizing everything I can, Denise. I'm trying to make a difference. I can be there. I can make us keep going.
[Denise]: I am trying to be realistic. There is just no way one person could make a difference. It is improbable that we could have known about the storm, or any of this. You cannot put all the blame on yourself, Marge. It's a gloomy situation, I understand that, but making yourself suffer for something that is out of your control is not the right thing to do.
[Marge]: I still gotta try to make this work, all of it. It's my fault those people are dead. We should be prepared. We should have some sort of system...or something I don't know...
[Denise]: We could utilize help from the citizens.
[Marge]: I'm not risking the life of anyone else. We've lost too many already. Obadiah has informed me that one of the elderly died...Sket Shilbup.
Denise pauses, processing the fact that the life of one man was gone forever.
[Denise]: A good man...
Marge bites her bottom lip, thinking. She turns, entering back into the infirmary. Denise follows her without hesitation, her thin, small legs taking quick scampers over one another. The door shuts behind them as the warmth instantly draws them both closer to the lanterns. Marge tears off of her bandanna as she slides through the patients, heading to the back room to speak with Ember. Ember rushes over to a patient, looking despaired as blood splatters everywhere. The patient shrieks as Jaelyn struggles to keep him down. Ember attempts to reassure the patient to no avail before grabbing a slender needle and jabbing into the patient's right arm. Marge attempts to rush over before she feels a hand tugging at her own then stops, looking toward the hand. It was a wan Dyron, with dried blood in the creases of his lips.
[Dyron]: Please....don't give up....don't give up on us yet...
Marge nods, knowing the severity of the situation. She keeps shuffling forward, changing direction to Zani, who is sitting up with an aching pain drowning his body. Jaelyn rushes over to him, tilting a glass into his mouth. He quickly downs the water before groaning. Zani lifts his shirt, exposing overlapping crusty scabs. Shaking his head, Zani drops down his shirt. Next to him, Elize was asleep. They both had healed tremendously quick, as Elize still sported a black eye with her cheeks swollen and puffy and her jaw bruised. Zani attempts to stand to offer respect to Marge.
[Marge]: Don't strain yourself, it's okay.
Zani collapses back on his cot.
[Marge]: I just need to know what happened to Colbat.
Zani scratches the back of his head, uncomfortable and slightly nudges Elize, who groans awake. When Elize spots Marge, she quickly sits up and attempts to look attentive.
[Marge]: Relax. No one here has committed any crime, as far as I know. Just, please tell me...He was my friend.
[Zani]: I try to be a good man. I try to do what is expected of me, to value myself and others, but Colbat's death was no accident. Elize and I were injured, so Chandler and Jaxar helped us back to the car. Corbus and Colbat, they were still in the warehouse. We were attacked by ravagers, they were dirty, ratty, seemed to have been on the ground for a while. They had weapons, Marge. Guns. I don't know how they got them, but they looked like they knew what they were doing. But the ravagers didn't kill Colbat....Corbus did.
Zani, who had been looking down at the ground for most of his confession, looks up and glances directly into Marge's eyes.
[Marge]: How can you be so sure?
[Elize]: He basically admitted to it. That's why Chandler beat the hell out of him.
[Marge]: So you agree with his story?
[Elize]: I wouldn't lie to you, Marge. This is what happened.
[Marge]: Yeah, alright. Thanks. You all get some rest now.
Marge nods, nibbling on her finger nail before rising and walking back into the horde of the infirmary, where she spots Corbus huddled against the wall, legs scrunched up with his hands resting on his knees. Taking a deep inhale to reassure her confidence, Marge meanders over, hesitation causing her to linger.
[Marge]: Corbus...
Corbus looks up, eyes pink. His cheeks were puffy. A soul filled with remorse. He was wearing a hoodie to cover the wounds on his face. A split lip and a black eye were noticeable with a swollen jaw.
[Marge]: You know why I'm here.
When Corbus spoke, he sounded as if he had aged decades. His voice was gruff, but low and monotoned.
[Corbus]: I didn't want this...any of this. I try to be a good man, you know, looking out for everybody. I had no choice. Jaxar, he got the attention of these...these savages. They tore us apart. Elize was almost killed. I got cornered and barely escaped. We were leaving. All the supplies were accounted for. They all left. Colbat was bleeding badly, really injured. He was limping, unable to keep going. I..I...
His hands trembled.
[Corbus]: I made it so we got all the supplies, that those people in the van got to live another day. I didn't want this, I didn't want the blood of a innocent man on my hand's! He was a sinless man. It's like killing a songbird. A sin. They don't do anything for themselves, only for others. This man hadn't committed a single crime in his entire life. Never even seen him lie. And for to have killed him, for me to be the bad guy, it tears me apart. I was cursed by God to be able to make the hard choices, to leave friends behind. I'm damned to hell, I already know that.
Marge noticed that he got upset at some points and would squeezes his knuckles until they were pure white. When he finished, she knew the story. Corbus was guilty for Colbat's death, but Corbus was faced with the hardest decision a man could make. She understood that Corbus chose to give Colbat mercy. It was both an honorable and wretched act.
[Marge]: Thank you for your candor.
She turned, unable to face Corbus and walked away. Corbus sniffles as he looks at his trembling hands before banging them onto the ground, grinding his teeth against each other.
The cries of a child awoke Scott. He brashly sits up, bumping his head on the roof of the car. Using one of the defrosted water bottles, Scott dampens his bandanna then quickly ties a knot around his face. The storm had settled down. Scott burrows out of the car and spots a mother inching forward, holding the hand of a small child and clutching another little one to her chest.
[Scott]: Hey!
They appear frightened and freeze as Scott hurries over to them. He brings all his supplies with him in backpack, leaving nothing in the car. He had a feeling he would not be going back to that car. Once a few feet away from the family, Scott notices that the small infant that the mother was clutching had open eyes but was not breating. It was dead. They were not frantic or anything.
[Scott]: You look hungry. Here.
He offers her a canned good. She snatches it and immediately claws it open, allowing herself and daughter to devour it.
[Mother]: Thank you.
[Scott]: I-I come from a community, we have warmth, protection, food.
He sees the red streaks of blood pouring out of their eyes. The mother's cold, gazeless eyes turn away from Scott as she tugs forward with her daughter. They had on no bandannas, no protection.
[Scott]: Hey, wait!
Scott jogs after them, but the ash snow combination picks up again. He puts his hand over his face to prevent ash getting in his eyes. Breathing. Inhaling. Exhaling. Left foot. Right foot. Scott continues dashing forward. He bumps into something then looks up. It was a building. He made it, he was in the city. Scott barges into the creaky, old abadoned building. He manages to go upstairs into what use to be a bedroom. It was stripped of doors, sinks, and anything else of value. Scott pulls out a map of the city sketched by Dagon. He points at his destination then folds the map, returning it to the backpack. This building provided warmth. Scott relishes it for a second before hearing the pipes. Looking around, Scott spots the bathroom. The toilet was there, was clean, not frozen water in it. Eager, Scott refills all of his empty water bottles. Then, mortified, he stops. On the floor beneath him, he hears the floorboards creak followed by the voices of men. Not moving an inch, Scott listens to the voices. After a few minutes, they dim as the creaks stop. Cautious, Scott waits for another few minutes to ensure his safety then allow a sigh of relief to wash over himself.
Ahsas stretches her legs, tired of just waiting, helpless on her cot. She notices Tarner fiddling with the strap on his shirt. She calls in out a low sound, barely louder than a whisper.
[Ahsas]: Hey!
Tarner looks up, a face drowning in boredom and anxiety.
[Tarner]: What?
[Ahsas]: Aren't you sick of not being able to help? We could do something...anything.
[Tarner]: I don't know, ask Ember or something.
Ahsas hobbles past Tarner, who hesitantly follows her. They approach Ember, who was injecting some sort of serum or liquid into a unconscious patient.
[Ember]: What are you two doing up? We still don't the full effect of the ash until-
[Ahsas]: I'm fine. Listen to me, we wanna help.
Ember looked a little suprised as his single eye flutters into a rapid blinking.
[Ember]: Sure. We're low on supplies, almost competely depleted. There are some in the elderly center, and I don't know if Obadiah is there or not, but we need the supplies. It's a cabinet in the main room. Here.
He pulls out a silver, elongated key with three holes in it. One side was layered in ridges, uneven and rought while the other side was a smooth, straight line. Then Ember turns away, grabbing two bandanas. He hands one to Ahsas and one to Tarner.
[Ember]: Good luck.
Ahsas grabs his wrist. She looks into his eyes: deep, deep within.
[Ahsas]: We're going to get through this...all of us.
Ember shakes his head to signal his agreement. Tarner is already by the door, bandana firmly wraped around his lower face. It was a snug fit. Ahsas turns away from Ember and approaches the front door. Tarner had his hand on the handle.
[Tarner]: You ready?
Ahsas nods, taking a deep exhale. She saw her frosty breath through the bandana.
[Tarner]: One...two...THREE!
The door whips open as Tarner and Ahsas sprint forward. It was an snow filled landscape. The dim glowing of the ash deep under the snow radiates. Vigorous winds howl, blowing up snow everywhere. Ahsas could not hear herself think of the loud shrieks from the wind. She looks down, realizing she was dashing. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. The simple command echoed through her mind as she pushed herself. The vicious winds tear at them. Ahsas kept running, although she couldn't see anything. The icy winds slapped her as she felt small slits being made. The ash was cutting her. Looking down, the snow was a fleshy pink. Ahsas was bleeding. A few feet to the right, she hears a cry for help as Tarner is hurled backwards by the wind, dipping into the near frozen lake.
[Ahsas]: Tarner!
She dives after him and tugs at his arm. They needed to get inside. Now. Both were dripping wet as ice flakes off of her lips, she quivers. Tarner groans, barely moving as Ahsas pushes him forward. A building appeared near them, now visible due to the short distance.
[Ahsas]: G-g-g-go!
They both hobble over, slamming the door behind them. It was nearly pitch dark, but they could see well enough. Looking around, Ahsas knew they were in the library. Rows upon rows of books were neatly assorted. Both Ahsas and Tarner were shivering. Tarner was shaking his head, clutching his knees and hysterical. Fear drowned him.
[Ahsas]: L-l-look at me. W-We aren't g-going to die, I p-promise. But we have to k-keep going, or other w-will. I'm scared too, but w-we will push t-through this.
Tarner, shivering so hard he is unable to speak, responds with a shaky nod.
[Ahsas]: We're wet. Unless y-you want hypothermia, I s-suggest you help me with this fire.
She walks over to a shelf and picks up a candle and luckily, a match next to it. She ignites the candle then builds a pile of books, kindling those as well to keep warm.
[Ahsas]: You know we have to k-keep moving soon.
[Tarner]: Just f-for n-now, I need the f-fire.
Track: This is Not the End-Fieldwork
The storm was ascending in intensity. One could only hope this was the apex. Chandler slams the door shut from the van, sprinting into the store. The barricade that Corbus had created was destroyed. The ravagers had escaped. As he enters the store, he tears off his jacket, brushing the ash off of it. Looking around, he hurries behind an aisle, weapon ready. After a few seconds of silence, Chandler sprints down the aisle, anxious. He turns around another corner. A few feet a head of him would have been Colbat's body. Chandler imagines what it looks like, eyes closed, peaceful. Then, it was as if Chandler was penetrated with a sharp blade. Chandler looks a head of him. Where Colbat's body was suppose to be, was only a puddle of blood. Chandler sniffles as he wipes away his tears but cannot refrain himself from pouring out his despair. The cries were not in a pattern, they were random moans with cries followed by more moans. Tearing himself away from the pool of blood, Chandler shuffles away. He opens the door, leaving the store where his friend lived his final moments. Outside, the storm picked up greatly. All Chandler saw was white. It was freezing outside as the blizzard of ash dropped temperatures. The sun was still blotted out and the level of light was low. A man appears in the distance who slowly walks toward Chandler. Chandler sprints out but trips, crashing into the ground of ash. A series of violent coughs emerge as Chandler vomits blood. The man was standing over the dazed Chandler, who was laying on his back. Chandler scrambles, standing up.
[Chandler]: Colbat? Colbat..I'm sorry, I let you die.
He begins crying as he collapses into the ground, which was just layers of ash.
[Colbat]: Go, you have to go. You can't die because of me.
Chandler huddles himself into a ball, covering his face as he grows weak. Colbat pensively raises his eyebrows as Chandler outstretches his legs and leans against a street pole.
[Chandler]: He killed you...I remember when we were younger, a decade ago, everything was so different. You fixed me, I was wrong at everything. You saw my shame, guilt, my scars. You thought you saw pride in me, but you knew it was pain. Looking at you now...I can see my past. The past we had. Now, I'll never be like my dad...Sometimes when I sleep, I dream. I can see her, see my mom, and she smiles, and I think that's a blessing.
[Colbat]: Chandler, you have to go!
Colbat seemed very urgent, or, the hallucination of him did. Chandler sniffles, wiping away a tear. He was content on not moving. The vigorous wind howls.
[Chandler]: There was such a difference between us. Now I see the change, I see your message. I see it now.. Oh god, I'm never going to see you again...
[Colbat]: I see you right now.
Chandler breaks down completely, understanding this was a hallucination.
[Chandler]: YOU'RE NOT REAL! Empty...you're a hollow shell. I never got to tell you sorry. I never got to thank you for everything. For everything, oh god, why...why did he kill you..why..
Chandler smashes his fists into the ground. Colbat weakly smiles at him.
[Chandler]: I'm sorry for being an asshole. I guess it doesn't matter now. Wouldn't make a difference. You're not real.
[Colbat]: What?
Chandler scoops up a pile of ash and chucks it at Colbat. It goes right through him, plopping on the ground behind him. The hallucination of Colbat turns, looking at it then faces Chandler once more, now bearing sadness. His frown droops down.
[Colbat]: I'm sorry you feel like I left you behind. I didn't mean for this to happen.
[Chandler]: You've been my only friend through all of this. You told me they can I understand the man I was. I am here, nobody at my side...you're gone...but now you're here, even when I'm all alone. You're here...
Chandler rest on his knees, clenching his fists. He feels the warmth of blood dribbling down his cheeks, from his eyes.
[Colbat]: You're running out of time. Go, in the car. Now!
Chandler scrunches his nose as he begins crawling forward, the ash overwhelming him as the temperature was freezing. He saw his breath in front of him as his clothing was covered in a thin icy layer. Erupting in a series of coughs, Chandler pulls back his arm and feels the warmth of blood. He inhales, trying to push through the pain.
[Colbat]: Push! Harder! You can't fail yourself, you can't fail me! Go!
Chandler huffs, pushing harder, managing to get onto two feet. The car was a few feet ahead. Colbat began crying.
[Colbat]: I'm sorry I left you. I'll never see you again. You were a brother to me. I-
Chandler hollers with all of his might as he sprints forward, crying as he screams the loudest he ever did. Chandler tears the door open and shuts it close. The hallucination of Colbat was gone. Chandler exposes his teeth with a flashy groan as the endless songs of sorrow continue.
The church was serene. Snow harmlessly bounced off of the windows. From the inside, it was warm and the air was thick. Bartholomew lay on his side, starring aimlessly while thoughts whirled through his mind. Dagon and Barbara were a few rows away. Around ten other survivors were scattered all over the church. Dagon pushes on Barbara's head with a wet cloth. She groans as blood inches down her face.The edges of her vision were blurred, and she felt as if the whole world was spinning.
[Dagon]: I fear you may have a concussion. You took a big hit to the head.
Dagon jumps as a loud banging at the door is heard. There was a few muffled shouts following it. Bartholomew pops up, lingering. He heads toward the door, but his fingers don't twist the knob. Dagon grows frustrated at his cowardliness and thrusts the door open. Tarner and Ahsas collapse onto the ground, sputtering for air. Bartholomew shoves the doors close.
[Dagon]: What's going on?
Both of them were gasping, so for about a minute they are regaining their breath. When they stand, Dagon takes them toward an isolated corner, so none of the other survivors hear them. He knew how bad the situation was, there was no need to further panic the citizens.
[Ahsas]: Ember sent us. We are trying to get to the elderly center to get some more medical supplies and drugs.
[Tarner]: It's real bad out there.
[Dagon]: I'm sorry, we can't help. Many of us are injured, and we're just not fit to go out there.
[Ahsas]: That's fine. We're probably going to swing back here on the way back, so if you change your mind, you can come back to the infirmary with us.
Tarner sends her a dirty look before tugging at her arm, pulling her away. He speaks low, giving her an angry look.
[Tarner]: You have no right risking those people's lives.
She scoffs in disbelief.
[Ahsas]: Do you hear what you are saying? Leaving them to die is not the right choice.
[Tarner]: Neither is blindly forcing them into death.
Tarner looks behind Ahsas, to see Dagon and Bartholomew talking among each other. Bartholomew looked frustrated, with creases on his green, bumpy forehead. Dagon's words were quick, but lingering with the last syllables.
[Ahsas]: I'm not doing anything other than offering them a choice!
[Tarner]: A choice that could get them killed. Don't be stupid. Stay alive. That's what we do.
[Ahsas]: We're not savages.
[Tarner]: We aren't messiahs. We get the drugs and go. That's it.
Ahsas shakes her head in disbelief. They turn back to Dagon and Bartholomew.
[Bartholomew]: I don't think we can make it, thanks for the offer though.
[Dagon]: Hold on, Bartholomew. We'll consider our options. You said the majority of residents were in the infirmary?
[Ahsas]: Yes.
[Dagon]: Come back after you get what you need. We'll be ready.
[Bartholomew]: Dagon-
[Dagon]: There is no need for further discussion. Go get your drugs.
Ahsas nods as she turns away, with a scowling Tarner behind her. Tarner peels the door open as they sprint into the white oblivion. Behind them, Bartholomew slams the door down then returns to his bench row, silent.
Corbus remains huddled against the wall where Marge had earlier interrogated him. His mood had yet to change. Dried tears crease at the corner of his eyelids. He sniffles every so often. A pain was suffocating him. Not the emotional pain, but a physical wound he received during the storm. A fleshy, exposed gash is on his stomach that curves around to his side. It was deep. The maroon blood splurges out. He had been keeping it hidden, and pretty well, as Marge had not noticed it. However, his skin was wan, his hands shaky, his mind sluggish. A feminine voice calls to him.
[Jaelyn]: Corbus? Are you okay?
He looks up, seeing Jaelyn, who was concerned, reaching out to him with her hand. He pushes her hand away. She looked weary, as she had been constantly working. Jaelyn valued the others over herself. Her arms would grow heavy, and she worked to the point where her legs burned with every step. She kept going however. Jaelyn would not fail the citizens of Zenith. It just was not in her morals. And now, she is hunched across from this man, Corbus, who was seemingly unresponsive yet refused help. She knew something was wrong however. His eyes were wild, looking as if they were succumbing to some sort of wild pain.
[Jaelyn]: Talk to me.
Weak. That's how he felt. Thoughts aimlessly suffocated his mind. They were wild, unfocused. Corbus thinks of what to say, but only hears a grunt emerge from his throat. A low, deep grunt. Corbus allows his arms to droop down to his side. The gash was exposed. The cold air provided a relief, if only for a few seconds. He squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. After a few seconds, he is able to force the words out, sounding choked and held down as he spit out the words.
[Corbus]: It happened during the storm.
[Jaelyn]: We need to set you up on an IV. Here, lay down.
She directs Corbus to a cot. The stretchy, fiber material gave relief to Corbus' back. The warmth of the blood ceased as he was laying horizontally. He feels the prick of a needle going into his arm. Needles never bothered him, but he did not necessarily enjoy it.
[Jaelyn]: You could've died, Corbus. This looks infected. Why the hell wouldn't you tell anyone?
He mutters his response, not wanting anyone to hear. The pain in his words really expressed his mood, his remorse for Colbat's death.
[Corbus]: Maybe I deserve this suffering.
Jaelyn did not hear what he said, but looks him dead in the eye. Her glance was stern, but gently, almost motherly. It was as if her maternal nature had allowed her to be good at what she does, protecting her kin, nursing them back to health.
[Jaelyn]: Corbus, this is serious.
[Corbus]: I don't care.
Jaelyn puffs out a frustrated sigh as she slops a wet icy cloth onto his wound, causing Corbus to grimace.
Shiloh remains stagnant from where he was a few hours ago. In the hall, huddled up, the warm rolled up paper of a cigarette bunched between his knuckles. Shiloh pulls out his lighter and cuffs his hand around it as he ignites the cigarette, sticking in between the two rows of his teeth. At first, he didn't inhale, just sucked in some smoke then puffed it back out. Then, he felt the burning down his throat as it entered his lungs. Warm. To him, it tasted terrible yet it had the odd feeling of relaxation. Shiloh's throat grew dry. When he exhales, he would pull the cigarette away from his lips, allowing the cloud of smoke to disperse in the air. He hears footsteps, and does not even try to hide the cigarette. Looking up, he sees Jaxar, who sits down next to him. Shiloh hands him the cigarette, as Jaxar nods before puffing in then out.
[Jaxar]: I'm not a brave man. I'm a coward, I get that. I get scared. I do things I'm not proud of. I've never smoked before. My father used to love it, but it was the death of him. Never really interested me now.
[Shiloh]: I'm just rekindling old habits. It calms me down.
Jaxar nods as he takes another hit.
[Jaxar]: Do you think we're gonna make it? Through all of this?
[Shiloh]: Don't think like that.
[Jaxar]: People are scared. No one knows how many of us are left.
[Shiloh]: Thoughts like those is what drives a man over the edge. Just for the peace of mind, I tend to stay away from those thoughts.
Jaxar nods as he exhales one more time before handing the crispy cigarette back to Shiloh.
[Shiloh]: I never was a religious man until I met her. Barbara always told me God had a plan, that I should never sin or anything. Well, look at me now. Yesterday, I was praying in the church with her, squeaky clean and today I'm smoking, I'm drinking. I am a bad man.
[Jaxar]: Everyone sins.
Shiloh snorts.
[Shiloh]: Well, ain't that the truth.
He inhales once more, the smoke lingering inside him as he waits, then a light exhales. The warmth of the smoke relieved him. He pats the cigarette against the ground to allow the flakey ash crisp off.
Obadiah glugs down the beer, starring at the hollow bottle. The glistening vapor of the cold liquid touching the warm air disperses above the opening. Obadiah fumbles a pistol between his hands, allowing the cold, shiny metal to Clank! when it makes contact with another surface. Death was near. He felt it. His time on the world was drawing to a close. This storm was offering him a chance. A chance of life, or death. It wasn't so black and white though. He had conflicting thoughts, as civil unrest grew inside him. The blood of many brotherhoods lay on his palms. How many times had he buried a man whom he once called a friend? All the elderly folks were asleep, quarantined, isolated, in the west wing of the elderly center. Obadiah was in his office room, where the medicine was stored. He dragged in a plushy lounge chair. This is where he wanted to spend his final moments.
God, finish me! You have left me unfinished! Injustice! Brew no more turmoil, and just end it for me. Right here. Please...I'm begging.
Obadiah's swirling thoughts grew hysterical as he bangs his hand into the armrest of the chair. Clicking back on the gun, he stuffs it into his mouth. Throwing it onto the ground, he bites down, gritting his teeth as he forces out tears. Death is making him emotional.
This was suppose to be easy! I'm not a good man, I don't deserve life! Why can't I just pull the damn trigger?
Obadiah smacks his feet onto the chair. Suddenly, he hears footsteps. Peeling the gun off of the ground, he hides in a blindspot from the entrance of the room, which was behind the door. Holding his breaths, he sees Ahsas and Tarner stumble in, both breathing heavily. He reveals himself, aiming the gun at Tarner.
[Obadiah]: Get the hell out! Leave me be.
Startled, Tarner and Ahsas turn and slowly raise their hands.
[Tarner]: The citizens are safe in the infirmary. Ember needs more medicine or else-
Obadiah chuckles to himself. Seconds before my demise, and I have to get more blood on my hands? A cruel joke. He shakes his head in disbelief. This was over. His life, his merit. Everything was over to him.
[Obadiah]: Don't you see? This is the end. It's every man for himself.
Ahsas motions to Tarner who begins moving to the backside of Obadiah while she distracts him.
[Ahsas]: That's not true. We can save the people, we can-
Obadiah clicks back the gun, his finger lingering on the trigger. More tears drip out of his eyes.
[Ahsas]: Look, I'm like you. I stay isolated from others, I don't think I'm worthy of surviving. That's not true. Everyone has merit, everyone can make a difference.
[Obadiah]: I am not negotiating! Last chance, you leave or I put your down!
[Ahsas]: You'll have to kill me then.
[Obadiah}]: I guess I will.
BANG!
As the trigger was pulled back, Tarner smashed Obadiah to the ground. Civil blood makes civil hands unclean. The words echo in Obadiah's mind as the cold, smooth floor smashed against his face. Then it went dark. The wild bullet grazes Ahsas' shoulder. She falls to the ground, gritting her teeth. Obadiah drools out of his mouth, as his eyes were lightly closed. He was comatose. Tarner extends his arm and helps her up.
[Tarner]: Are you okay?
[Ahsas]: Just a graze.
[Tarner]: We gotta report this to Marge.
[Ahsas]: No. He is broken, Tarner. I could see it in his eyes. An empty shell of a man. He was drunk, hysterical. Leave it alone.
Tarner nods as he makes his way to the cabinet and begins stuffing a backpack with the drugs.
His chest rapidly exhales as his legs burn with every step. His arms swept in front of him then behind him. Scott ceases his sprint to a jog, then drawing out to a walk. He looked around and spotted the van ahead. This egged him on, as he inhaled sharpy and ran with all his might. Yards turned to feet which turned to inches. He bangs against the window, jubilous as he spots Chandler curled up, facing away from the window. Scott continues pounding on the window as an elated grin is hidden by his cloth. Chandler groggily turns, facing Scott. His eyes were puffy and pink as he sniffles. Chandler hits the unlock button as he slops himself over to the passenger seat. Scott tears off his cloth mask and plops into the driver seat. He wraps himself around Chandler, embracing his friend.
[Scott]: You left us...
[Chandler]: He's gone Scott...oh God...his body was gone...
Chandler wraps around Scott, a lot tighter than the predecessor, and refuses to let go. Scott listens to his whimper as he holds a friend, a man he considered a brother, weeping for a lost soul.
[Scott]: I'm here for you.
[Chandler]: This...it was all for nothing, the risk, I-I could've died, you could've...all for what? A fucking corpse, that disappeared into hell!
Chandler looks up to the sky through the windshield. He begins shouting.
[Chandler]: Is this a cruel joke asshole? A real God would never kill innocent men like him! You pathetic shit! I hate you! I hate you!
Scott ponders Chandler's devout hatred to religion. He himself never believed in a God, but Chandler always talked about redemption, about ideologies. But now, Scott starred at the man who lost everything and barely kept going.
[Scott]: Chandler...
Chandler looks down as a tear dribbles down his cheek. He lets out a high groan as he buries his head into Scott's shoulder.
[Scott]: Let's go home.
He puts a hand on Chandler's bare shoulder. Chandler nods, sniffling.
Track:If I Lose Myself Tonight-Danny Olson
Her hand shielded her face from the vigorous lashes of ash hurling itself at Ahsas. She prances forward with all her might, screaming. It was drowned out, muffled, but the roaring howls of wind. She could barely see Tarner next to her, who was huffing and puffing. She sees as he smacks into the ground.
[Tarner]: KEEP GOING!
He yelled as loud as he could, and Ahsas barely heard him. The view were terrifying. Overhead, smokey gray clouds rumble as countless strikes of neon yellow lightning crack down, The ash glowed warmly, illuminating through the thick snow. Every minuscule flake that whipped their bodies burned like a thousand suns seared against their skin. Ahsas' bones were jittering, chattering. She was freezing. Her legs would not move. She looks toward Tarner and firmly shakes her head. Barely remaining standing, Ahsas reaches out to him. Whoosh! BAM! A huge gust of wind smashes into Ahsas where she stumbes down. Then, incessant ash flakes smack into her. Dizziness overwhelmed her as she looks around. She could not spot Tarner.
[Ahsas]: Tarner! Tarner!
Barely audible, she hears a mumble twice before it goes faint. Ahsas begins sprinting in that direction. Hold on, I'm coming for you. The backpack on her back felt heavy. Her legs began to burn with each step in the sloshy ground. The snow was almost up to her knees. She spots him,on the ground, not moving. Thunder booms as the ground shakes. He looks up to her.
[Tarner]: Just keep going...go.
Ahsas firmly shakes her head as she bites down and the winds force icy tears out of her. She scoops him up and hollers, racing forward. The wind spliced at her sides and ash whipped her from the front. She kept going. Her adrenaline was too much, too empowering for her to stop now. The weariness drizzled away as she continues. One step after the other. Moving forward. She spots the church and speeds up, knowing she is almost there. With one last emopowering yelp, she smashes into the church door. It did not budge. She rattles the handles but it was frozen solid. It had to be opened from the inside. Tarner manages to stand as they bang with all their might on the doors.
[Ahsas]: DAGON! BARTHOLOMEW!
Tarner, his face numb, accepts his fate.
[Tarner]: Save your breath.
[Ahsas]: No..no. We've come too far to die now!
Hollering, she kicks at the door, punches at it. They hear a lock click as it swings open. Bartholomew is there and scoops up Tarner and rushes back inside. Ahsas follows and slams the door shut behind her. Tarner gags before leaning over, puking. He wipes his face and looks at what he just did. It was slimy green, but the vivid red of blood was easily recognizable. Bartholomew looks queasy but gently places Tarner in one of the rows. The wooden bench ached his back, but Tarner did not really care because of his nauseating feeling in his stomach and a stinging headache, pouding him. His entire body throbbed and he felt warm but was shivering. Bartholomew walks back over to Ahsas, who was catching her breath. Dagon, now equipped with a shirt wrapped around his face and goggles covering his eyes, was speaking to Ahsas.
[Dagon]: Did you get what you need?
Ahsas nods. She looks around. All the citizens were wearing heavy jackets, some sort of facial covering. They were prepared. Ahsas sees Barbara, who was on her feet and covering her mouth with a towel tied around her face. Bartholomew shakes his head, worried.
[Bartholomew]: I still don't like this idea. Why don't we stay here? It's safe.
[Dagon]: For how long? We all heard the creaks of the roof, the buckering of the walls, the groans. This place could collapse at any second.
[Bartholomew]: We have injured people!
[Barbara]: I can make it.
[Bartholomew]: You could die out there.
[Barbara]: I'd rather die fighting my way to safety, then have one of my friends pry my dead cold body huddled up in the rubble of this church.
[Bartholomew]: This is crazy.
[Ahsas]: It is a risk, and it will be dangerous, but we can make it.
[Barbara]: I'm ready.
She slides the towel back over her mouth. Dagon looks to Tarner, who stands up. He was pale, but strong enough for one last sprint. Tarner and Dagon each hold one of the doors in hand. Everyone crowds around the doors.
[Dagon]: On three, we open the doors. Everybody head down the path. If you can't see it, just follow Ahsas. She'll guide us. Stay close and keep moving. One...two...three!
They peel the doors open as vicious winds howl at the survivors.
[Dagon]: Go!
Everyone begins sprinting into the unknown, a cloud of white expanding into the depths of Zenith.
Elize sits up as Jaelyn walks over to her.
[Jaelyn]: How are you?
Elize looks at her hands, which was trembling. Her face was not as bloated as it was, with the swelling and puffing going down tremendously. Her jaw ached and her bruises hurt, but she was alive.
[Elize]: I saw things, we all did.
[Jaelyn]: You're one of the good ones. You shouldn't be out there.
[Elize]: What?
[Jaelyn]: One of the good people. I can tell. You love Zani like a brother. You aren't superficial, you really care about what we're doing here.
[Elize]: I want a future where I'm not six feet under.
[Jaelyn]: Do you think there is a way we can keep this going?
[Elize]: I hope so.
[Jaelyn]: Today, when the ash was coming down and people were dying, all I wanted was to be able to look at the stars one more time. My home was filled with light pollution and smog, I could barely see the North star.
[Elize]: My home is so far away, so distant. There was no constellations or North Star, just auroras. They were beautiful, like the sky was an ocean and each wave a different color.
[Jaelyn]: That sounds beautiful.
[Elize]: It was, and everyday my father promised me that one day I could explore those waves, those beautiful waves.
[Jaelyn]: Did you?
[Elize]: I'm here, and not there.
There is a few shouts from the entrance as Jaelyn turns and sees Tarner, Ahsas, and the church survivors barrelling in. She looks at Elize and warmly smiles before hurrying over. Behind them, Ember shuts the doors. Ahsas slumps off her backpack and peels off Tarner's, handing them both to Ember. Ember grabs one of Ahsas' wrists.
[Ember]: Thank you. You don't know how much we needed this.
The church survivors, pleased, throw off their gear and begin to rest.
Electricty hums and quietly zaps all around her. She continues the steady wave of electricty to push the ash off of her, so she can blink. Denise was alone. The electricity spewing out of her exposed brain allowed her to breath and see without the use of a mask. The hum grew louder as she directs it to a wooden pile she had made. It ignites as she is pushed back slightly from the recoil of shooting the bolt of electricity. Denise then picks up the ash using her electrokinesis. The snowflakes were beautiful, each twinkling. Denise felt the electricty flowing through each radioactive piece. The crisp ash withers into a gray dust before blowing away into nothing. With every second passing, she grows weary from using her powers. Nausea and dizziness fill her. Her vision blurs at the corners and she grows lethargic. Then, the ash slowly diminishes. The gradual stop of ash comes. Denise lays down, smiling a wide grin.
It is over. The world is not ending anymore. It will be okay.
She sits up and looks around as the survivors of Zenith colony come out of their hiding spots, awed. The howling winds ceased. The dark sky brightens. She listens to the jubilous cheers and spots a mother weeping as she clutches her child, who was calling her name. Then, she spots a father, holding on to his child's corpse, with a bloated face and blood leaking out of the eyes, mouth, and ears. With a sad frown, Denise finally accepts it.
[Denise]: It is over.
Far away, she sees Marge opening the gates as the van cruises in, the lights turning off. Scott steps out and slams the door before walking around and helping out Chandler, who leans on him. Marge walks next to Scott as they head toward the infirmary.
The lanterns glowed warmly off the ceiling beams of the mess hall. Torches were lit all over. The population of Zenith sit at the tables, while Marge is toward the back, standing on one of the tables. Scott and Denise are on her left, on the ground and Ahsas and Ember on her right. The murmurs dwindle as she begins speaking.
[Marge]: Today was a day full of harshness, the viciousness we choose to endure so that we can become better. As of now, we know that seventeen people died since the ash first touched ground. These deaths do not go in vain, as we are now stronger as a community, as a colony, as a family. We overcome hardship. We don't lay down and wither away. We face death head on, and tackle our greatest fears. This is why we are still alive. Morningstar did not stop us, and neither will this tragedy, which I am calling Ashfall. Plans to create a memorial will be set in stone tomorrow, and it will be next to the Morningstar memorial. We had many heroes today step up. Please applause after I call eveyr name: Ember...Jaelyn Tyrell....Ahsas....Tarner Clifton....
There is numerous applause.
[Marge]: And a moment of silence for those we lost: Sket....Colbat...
Chandler starres at Marge as she continues speaking the names, but the words blur and nothing makes sense. He listens to the one word, over and over. Colbat. He screams out, causing everyone to look at him.
[Chandler]: No! NO! This isn't right. A minute of silence does nothing! We honor the dead by avenging them! We have to take out those savages. We kill oppresion. We survive! Does no one see this? We don't exile, that's why Morningstar happened. We have to decide who lives and who dies!
Everyone is starring at him as people back away. He is frantic, breathing heavily as he listens to their murmurs and glances at him. Scott's eyes meet Marge's, who nods at him. Scott approaches Chandler who wildly swings at him before sprinting off. There is silence as everyone looks at Marge for instructions.
[Marge]: Don't like this ruin our evening. This is a celebration of survival. Enjoy it. Tonight, we feast, tomorrow, we rebuild!
There is cheers as people begin socializing and talking. There are laughs and smiles. Marge steps off of the table and pulls Denise away from the crowd.
[Marge]: Check out the elderly unit. Obadiah didn't report to me. Check for any damage and unfortunately, bodies. I'm afraid something may have happened to Obadiah.
[Denise]: Right away.
Denise turns, scattering off. Marge sits on the bench, biting her nails. She was thinking. Someone walks up to her, calling her name.
[Dagon]: Marge?
[Marge]: Yeah?
[Dagon]: You said you wanted me.
[Marge]: It's about Bartholomew.
[Dagon]: That is something needed to be adressed.
[Marge]: I want you to keep two eyes on him, report anything out of place or something that would put his leadership role in question. I've heard whispers that he shouldn't be leading the construction crew anymore.
Dagon nods, scratching his cranium.
[Dagon]: I absolutely agree.
Across the room, Ahsas and Tarner are both sipping their own alcoholic drink. Ahsas' eyes meet Marge, who gently nods at her. Tarner's voice snaps her back to where she was at that moment.
[Tarner]: We did good out there today.
[Ahsas]: Yeah.
She was gruff, seasoned.
[Tarner]: Both of us almost die, and you still hesitant to have a conversation?
[Ahsas]: I value life. I want to save lifes. I don't get to have friends. I'm not suppose to.
[Tarner]: Neither am I.
Aero approaches them. he was wearing a thin layer of a fiber-based top with a thick coat over it. Pants tied baggy pants around his legs. His helmet was gone. This is what he wore as casual wear. He did not always the armor and helmet, although that helmet had special meaning to him.
[Aero]: I just wanted to say thanks, to both of you, for saving my ass out there today.
[Tarner]: No problem, brother.
Outside the party, where the lights were dimmer and the sounds of chirping, squealing nature could be heard, Elize and Zani sit on a bench. They were both barefeet, allowing the palms of their feet to smother against the silky strands of luscious green grass.
[Elize]: I love you. I see it now. I love you not in the way a groom lives his bride, but in the way a sister loves her brother.
[Zani]: You'll always be that close with me. I promise. I...I thought you died out there, on the run yesterday. I was terrified, I had this guilt about rejecting you.
[Elize]: I didn't need your pity.
[Zani]: I know.
[Elize]: I will never leave you Zani. Never.
They embrace in a tender hug, with Elize hiding her face into his chest as he held her close.
CLOSING MONTAGE
Track: Lead Me Home-Jamie Commons
Obadiah lays on the floor of the elderly center, his cheek swollen as blood drips out of the corner of his mouth. He is unconscious. The floor was cold and Obadiah winces as he slowly wakes up, rubbing his cheek. He looks up, and Denise was there. She was speaking but he could not hear what she was saying.
[Obadiah]: God damn....
He stretches before sitting up. Obadiah wipes his face and when he draws back his arm, blood was on it. Across the room, he spots the pistol. Malice grows in his heart,pumping through his veins. No, it isn't my time to die. Denise lays a hand on his shoulder.
[Obadiah]: I remember now...
With staggering difficulty, Obadiah attempts to stand but woozily collides back into the ground. The cool surface causes him to grin, which flares the pain. He groans. Obadiah does not resist the urge of weariness. Slowly, he peels himself from the ground. Denise is gone. He does not care. Obadiah drags himself forward to the housing unit. Each step burned his legs, as they felt heavy with each collision with the ground. Up the stairs was the worst part. Dizzy, Obadiah had to clutch to the railing to prevent falling. Then, his room was already unlocked. Collapsing onto the bed felt magical. Then, Obadiah escaped into a wonderland of alcohol.
Chandler, his face hidden between his knees, is huddled by the lake in the darkness. The only light illuminating him was the moon. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks puffy as the endless sobs for his friend continues. The lake was stagnant as Chandler hurls a stone into it before returning to weeping. Over the lake, a hallucination of Colbat emerges, walking toward Chandler.
[Chandler]: WHY? Why are you back? Why-why do you torment me like this?
[Colbat]: What? I'm here...right now I'm here...it's me, your friend.
[Chandler]: You're dead...dead...
Colbat sadly looks to Chandler, who sniffles before emitting a crying shriek.
[Colbat]: Chandler, this trauma, it's tearing you apart.
Chandler begins screaming, letting his jacket slump off his arms.
[Chandler]: YOU LEFT ME! YOU...You..left..you left...
He succumbs to his emotions, rolling on the ground, pounding his fists into the soil with all his might. On the sidewalk a few feet away, Scott sees Chandler thrashing and weeping.
[Scott]: Chandler?
He walks over and stops when Chandler begins talking to the lake.
[Chandler]: Because everyday I'm the one who gets up, who looks at my scars, I'm the one who pretends that I am okay, that nothing is wrong...I'm still that little kid who got beat by his daddy...
[Colbat]: That's not true.
[Chandler]: YOU LEFT ME!
Scott looks confused as Chandler lunges for the hallucination of Colbat and collapses into the lake.
[Scott]: Chandler!
Scott dives in, pulling Chandler out who was moaning.
[Chandler]: He left me..he's gone...
[Scott]: Chandler...calm down...it's okay..I'm here Chandler, it's okay...
Scott embraces Chandler into a hug, comforting his friend.
Barbara winces as Ember sews up the gash on her forehead. Her eyes showed despair as she thinks of Shiloh.
[Ember]: You're going to have to stay in your room, in the dark, for the next two weeks. I'll talk to Marge about a sabbatical for you. You have a minor concussion Barbara.
Barbara nods. She was sweating and shaky, which was unusual for her. Now she knew why.
[Barbara]: What am I suppose to do?
[Ember]: Rest. Avoid all light. Just, take it easy.
Barbara grits her teeth. She hated doing nothing. All her life, she was given tasks and then she did them. To do nothing rendered her worthless. With a smile of gratitude, Barbara thanks the doctor as disappointment and fear swirled in her mind. A deadly mixture of emotions.
Shiloh lays on a bed in a housing unit which is not his own, silent, as he thinks about the days events. His mind crosses the thought of Barbara as he chokes back tears. Shiloh slumps off the bed and falls to his knees, bowing his head as his fingers overlap.
[Shiloh]: Dear lord, please have mercy for my sins. Loving God, please take away the pity and envy within me. Provide me with penance, kind lord. I know me, and only myself, can atone for the evil I committed. These shameful deeds haunt me. I'm on my knees, begging toward you God. I'm asking for forgiveness, to help the people I've hurt. I'm sorry God. Only yesterday I prayed to you, exposing these thoughts of morality I've had. Look at me now....I destroyed my family, pushed away the love of my life...please..all I seek is penance...don't let me be the man I've tried so hard not to be...
Shiloh rubs the back of his head, eyes shut, as he tries not to break down.
Jaelyn places a candle gently on her old dresser. Her old room was mostly cleaned now but she could not return to it for a few more days. She begins opening drawers, desperately looking for anything else that was hers. She looks at the orb and turns it on. The orb projects a video of her older brother, tantalizing her with his height as she lunged for her stuffed bear as he would put it up higher. She was an innocent child back then. Jaelyn rewinds the footage of her brother.
[Jaelyn]: I miss you so much...
She sniffles but places the orb in a bag before continuing on to other items.
Spade, in pure darkness, with all light blotted out, shuts her eyes close. Unable to drift off to sleep, she begins cursing under her breath. The prison reeked of burnt ash. Heavy bags under her eyes drowned her in weariness. She itches a scab on her face, allowing the blood to trickle down. Her mind drifted to thoughts about the day. Why would she help Snax, the man who was in charge of his imprisonment? Is she really that kind of person? Spade's thoughts grew aimless.
Snax, shirtless, walks out of his bathroom. He was wearing thin sweat pants with his feet and chest exposed. His bedroom had two beds, one for himself, and one for Marco. Marco was asleep, purring softly. Snax steps quietly toward his offspring. Marco lay stagnant his bed. His little eyes were shut as his mouth opens and closes softly, the gentle purring incessant. His chest rises and falls, inhales and exhales. Snax looks at his face and only thinks of Gunny. He falls to his knees, tears pouring out. He murmurs to himself, to make sure Marco doesn't hear him.
[Snax]: I'm so sorry Gunny...I'm so sorry..
His sorrows die down as he lays in bed, sniffling. Snax puts one hand on Marco's shoulder then squeezes it lightly.
[Snax]: I love you Marco...
Snax flips off the lamp causing darkness to consume the room.
End