The Last of Us

by D B Bray

  Jasmine walked up the stairs, her long blue dress whisking against her ankles. Lucy felt her own clothes and sniffed under his arms. She wrinkled her nose and held them against her side. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a bath. Jasmine walked to the basement door and opened it. She stepped down the cold stone steps, her sandals making a clicking sound as she went into the darkness. Lucy followed her down, her hand pressed against the wall.

  Jasmine lit the other torches in the room, illuminating it. Like Jack, Lucy’s eyes darted to the rows of bookshelves lining each wall. She walked up to the shelves and felt along the dusty spines. A thin book caught her eye. Jasmine nodded when she looked at her. Lucy brushed her dirty hand against her arm and then picked the book up. She turned it over and read the back cover.

  “This sounds cool,” she said.

  “Ah, yes. One of my favorites,” Jasmine said, walking over.

  Lucy muttered, her voice barely audible. “Lord of the Flies, by Charlie Golding.”

  Jasmine smiled and said, “This is about a group of boys stranded on an island with no adults. You can have it,” she said.

  Lucy’s eyes bulged. No one had ever given her anything. Jasmine walked along the bookshelves touching the spines of books, both large and small. She glanced up from her search and noticed the bookshelves traveled the length of the walls making a long ‘U’ shape.

  Jasmine stopped walking and turned around. “Lucy, I’m the keeper of these books. I send my men to find more because we, as people, cannot forget the importance of literature. If we do, we are no better than the animals we hunt. A person who never reads lives one life. But someone who reads lives as many lives as the characters they read about. Does that make sense?”

  Lucy nodded. “I’m sorry about my uncle Red helping the slavers,” she said.

  “Uncle?”

  “Yes, my uncle Red. He’s a horrible person,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.

  Jasmine chuckled. “Lucy, no one’s horrible. How they live their lives makes them horrible. Everyone is born good, but some decide to let their hardships shape them. I don’t think anyone grows up trying to be terrible. But life’s hard and unfair. People are picked on because they may look different or talk differently. People make others feel bad about themselves in order to feel good about their own selves. Does that make sense?”

  “Kind of. Oh, I forgot to ask, what tribe is this?” Lucy asked, trying to change the subject. She’d had enough lectures in her lifetime.

  “We don’t have a name. We are simply known as Protectors,” Jasmine said.

  “That makes sense.”

  “Let’s go help make preparations,” Jasmine said, showing Lucy out.

  The fort was an anthill of activity when they walked out of the church. Adam stood by a raging bonfire talking to Kelly. Charlie was training the raw recruits, including Toby and Bushwick. Quill stood between the two guard towers, his black jacket fluttering in the breeze. He barked orders and encouragement to Jasmine’s men as they hurried back and forth to do his bidding. A shout came from one of the guard's towers. Quill wasted no time climbing the ladder and looking through the binoculars. The guard could hear Quill’s breathing accelerate as he waved Jasmine up.

  As Jasmine made it to the top, Lucy was hard on her heels. Riding over the top of the hill were Jack and Rufus. Lucy’s heart skipped a beat as she recognized Jack’s clothing. She shoved a guard out of her way and took the ladder steps two at a time.

  The gate creaked open, and she darted through the door. Her matted hair was flying behind her as she closed the gap between them. Jack pulled his horse to a stop and handed the reigns to Rufus, who smiled.

  “Must be----.”

  “Lucy!” Jack shouted dismounting.

  The pair embraced, Lucy’s hug so tight, Jack could hardly breathe. He smelled her hair and the air around him and sighed when she finally let go. Lucy held his hands in hers, and they kissed for a few minutes. Rufus dismounted and put his canteen to his lips.

  “Kids,” he muttered under his breath.

  Jack turned his head. “What did I say about calling me a kid?”

  Rufus shrugged and led the horses toward the fort. Toby sprinted past him and jumped on Jack, shouting a million questions. Quill, Adam, Billy followed suit. They all embraced him, except Charlie, who kept his distance. Jack made eye contact with Charlie as he sniffed the air like he always did. He methodically walked around Jack and then stopped.

  He sniffed for a few more seconds. “I don’t smell any more fear,” he said.

  Jack smiled at him and said, “It’s still there.”

  Charlie laughed. “Maybe, but I can’t smell it.”

  Later in the evening, the group sat at a long table that ran through the second floor of the church. All the different commanders and representatives of the tribes sat amongst each other passing fruits, vegetables, meats, and milk between them. The mood in the room was one of merriment and laughter that could be heard echoing through the halls; something missed for a long time.

  Jack watched all the faces. Some so happy their food lay untouched. He listened to Toby describe their adventures to a mesmerized group of young people, his hands animated. Quill and Rufus sat at the far end together, planning their defenses. Jack had introduced them when they arrived and asked them to work together. Adam sat next to him, staring at Kelly, who ignored him.

  Jack tried to catch Lucy’s eyes with his own. She looked pretty in her new dress, and her hair combed into a long ponytail. She smiled and blew him a kiss with a giggle. He observed the reactions of the people around the table and then stood up with his glass. He lightly tapped his fork against it. The sound stopped everyone who was talking, and they turned their heads to look at him. He cleared his throat, his legs weak.

  “I would like to take this time to thank everyone at this table. I heard what happened at Battery Park after I left. I’m sorry for those at this table who lost their friends. But today is a new day, and I have handed over the complete document to Jasmine to look over and try to piece it back together. I was told when we got into the fort about The Takers coming to retake their slaves. I’m not sure if everyone at this table knows, but they destroyed my tribe and burned our fort to the ground. I would love nothing more than to hear what Jasmine can tell us about this Constitution. But we have a fight coming, and we will have to deal with that first. I will turn it over to Quill and Rufus on how we’re going to defend this place,” he said, sitting back down.

  Quill stood up and let them know what the plan was to help defend the fort. He told everyone where they needed to go and what they needed to do. Many of them already knew, but he wanted to reiterate it just in case. Jack thanked him and watched the others mingle for the next several hours. As the evening wore on, people started leaving in ones and two’s. Jack excused himself and walked over to Lucy.

  “Take a walk with me?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  They walked out of the church and over to what had become Lucy’s favorite part of the wall. They sat in awkward silence for a while until she spoke.

  “You seem different, Jack,” she said.

  “I don’t know about different. I’ve seen a lot over the last several months, and they haven’t been good. There is so much suffering out there, Lucy. I still don’t understand what this Constitution thing will do for the people in this fort, or why some of our friends died for it to be reassembled,” he said.

  “We can’t change the past or wish to shut the door on it,” she said, slipping her hand into his.

  Jack watched her staring into the moonlight. The sun and moon always seemed to catch her just right. She felt him looking at her and turned her head.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  Jack smiled, his insecurities shelved at the moment. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “I didn’t hear you,” she said.

  He cleared his throat, his cold palms sweaty. “I said I love you,” he rep
eated.

  Lucy sat for a moment and gripped his hands tighter. “I would like to say it back, but I’ve never loved anyone and don’t know what it feels like.” She stood up. “I better get to sleep, long day tomorrow,” she said, hurrying off.

  Jack’s mind raced a million miles a minute.

  Oh, no. I really screwed this up. I should never have told her I loved her, now she probably thinks I’m weird.

  “Lucy, Lucy wait,” he shouted to the wind.

  Jasmine stepped out of the shadows.

  “It’s alright, Jack. She’ll come around. A lot of emotions are brewing inside of her right now. Red is on his way and many people breathing in these walls tonight, will not be soon. She feels responsible, and nothing you can say will change her mind,” she said.

  Jack picked up a rock and threw it over the fence. Jasmine sat down next to him and rolled up her sleeves.

  “The worst thing about the Greatest War was it destroyed the ideal of treating people right. I’ve studied the Constitution for the last several hours since you returned. The basic concept I found is that it checks the power of the government. It’s used by the people, for the people. We must find tribes like ours and convince them to come out of the wilderness and join us. Once we have as many tribes as we can find, we will be well on our way to creating another government,” she said.

  “I don’t plan on going anywhere ever again,” he muttered.

  “You feel that way now, but tell me that in another few months,” she said.

  “It will be like that today, tomorrow, and every day after that,” he said, feeling the bee stings on his arms.

  Jasmine chuckled. “I hope that you will think twice about that. You’re a Savior, whether you like it or not. But you’re a Savior all the same,” she said.

  “How do you know that?” Jack asked.

  “Your family were the first Saviors as mine were the first Protectors, and after nearly two hundred years, you finally found all the pieces. You fulfilled the prophecy.”

  Jack stared into the woods in response. Without another word, Jasmine walked away to leave Jack with his thoughts.

  She walked back toward the church and found Quill sitting on the steps.

  He stood as she walked up. “Jasmine, do you have a minute?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  “The next few days will be hard. I was going to ask you to lead the children away with any documents and books that may be of value,” he said.

  “I appreciate your concern, Quill. But Protector’s don’t run from trouble, we run toward it. As long as a Protector lives, so will the books,” she said.

  Quill stood silent and moved out of her way. She nodded with a smile and headed up the steps and back into the church. He watched her silhouette disappear into the shadows and decided to take a walk. He walked to the guard towers and watched the men and women working on the defenses. He walked through the gate and surveyed the landscape.

  “Bushwick,” he shouted.

  Bushwick trotted over as fast as his old frame would allow him. “Sir.”

  “I want a trench dug around the perimeter of the fence.”

  “How many feet out,” Bushwick asked.

  “Five feet. Enough for the horses to get out and stop short at the wall. I want everyone digging. But not the armorers, I want them working. Any other able-bodied men, women, and children are to start working on the trench. They will dig with their hands if need be,” he said, digging out a fistful of dirt with his bare hands.

  “When do you want us to start?” Bushwick asked with a sigh, his body already exhausted.

  “Now. Sound the assembly horn and let everyone know the plan,” Quill said.

  Bushwick went to sound the alarm as Quill walked the entire perimeter, making mental notes of what still needed to be repaired. He knew all too well that if they weren’t calculating in their defense, they would be slaughtered.

  The fence still needed days of repair, and if it didn’t hold, the attackers would be over the wall before his forces could recover. He watched a crew of people mount rifles throughout the fence line, in case someone fell while they were firing.

  He scoured the hillside again and held his hand in different directions to see the best place to attack if he were leading. There was a break in the tree line to the left of the fort. He couldn’t man every wall. There simply weren’t enough people. He would hedge his bets on the left side and guard it with the Blades.

  The thought of using kids, some no older than ten, made his skin crawl. But the ones he referred to as kids were not kids anymore, their innocence lost. They were young adults and didn’t need or wish for adults to make decisions for them. He prayed they could have a better childhood, but if they could at least force The Takers to withdraw, their children might have a better chance to be kids.

  Rufus walked up behind him with a piece of warm bread. He broke it in half, the steam rising up between them. Quill bit into his half and groaned.

  “That’s good,” he said.

  “That it is,” Rufus said.

  “Any ideas on how to improve our defenses?” Quill asked.

  “I’m not a military man. I’m a survivalist,” he said after taking a bite of his bread.

  “Ok, survivalist, any ideas?” Quill asked.

  “If I were attacking, I would come through the cover of those huge trees, then send people in to mount ladders,” he said.

  “That’s what I was thinking. How can we protect our people against trained slavers, though?” Quill asked.

  “I would hinder them as much as possible. We should dig holes along the stretch of land they should be coming through to put their ladders up. I would dig the holes deep and sharp to break ankles. If they lose the ladders, we can beat them,” Rufus said.

  “And if they make it to the wall?” Quill asked.

  Rufus smiled and chewed the last of his bread. “Bring a lunch because it’s going to be a long day.”

  As dawn broke, the grey haze mixed in with the early morning pink clouds. Quill stood on top of the wall, scanning the trench. He thought they would be lucky if they could get the front deep enough, but they had dug nearly two-thirds of the way around.

  Many were still sleeping where they fell in the trench, pushed beyond the point of exhaustion. He picked up the alarm horn hanging around the guard's neck, asleep next to him, and put it to his lips.

  He blew the notes of Battle Hymn of the Republic, and the Blades were the first ones out of the trench, bats at the ready. He blew the formation melody and watched them form.

  He shouted, using his hands as a megaphone. “Now that I have your attention get back to digging!”

  Billy climbed the ladder to where Quill was standing. Quill cut his eyes at him as he bit into an apple from his pocket.

  “Yes?” Quill asked.

  “I think we need a scout to check where our enemies are and when we expect them to attack, sir,” Billy said.

  “And I suppose you're the one for the job?” Quill asked, looking straight ahead.

  “I am.”

  “No, I need every person here. They come when they come,” he said.

  Billy didn’t move.

  “Did you not hear me?” Quill asked, slightly annoyed.

  “I did.”

  “Then begone Billy and help those people struggling in the trench,” Quill said, pointing to several children trying to use the same shovel.

  “Go ahead and check it out, Billy,” Jasmine said from behind them.

  Quill looked at her and said, “Where did you come from?”

  She smiled. “Go on, Billy.”

  Billy scampered off the wall and then over to Charlie, who had a horse waiting by the gate for him. Jasmine turned back to Quill.

  “This is my fort,” she said and climbed back down the ladder. “Don’t lose sight of that.”

  Quill climbed down behind her and was on his way back to his tent when Henry Shawn stepped into his path, followed by a group of
young Blades. Henry stared at him with a fierce look.

  “Help you with something, Henry?”

  “You haven’t told us where we would be in this plan. You said only sixteen and seventeen-year-olds could man the wall during the attack with the adults,” he said.

  “You and your group will be with me as runners,” he said, trying to walk past them.

  “No,” Henry said a little louder.

  Quill turned, his ears flushed. “What was that?” he asked, his eyebrow raised.

  “We won’t be runners,” Henry repeated.

  Lucy and Toby walked up to them as the conversation escalated into an argument. Lucy stepped between Quill and Henry and turned her back to Quill.

  “Henry, will you guys protect the church with Toby? Should they get past us, we need to make sure the books and documents are protected,” she said.

  Henry thought for a moment and then smiled. “We will protect the church,” he said.

  Quill looked at Lucy. “Does everyone in here object to my orders?” he asked.

  “Not every order,” she said as she watched Jack walk by.

  She excused herself and walked up next to him. He tried to avoid eye contact and keep walking, but she stopped him.

  “Jack, can I talk to you?” she asked.

  Jack sighed. “What’s there to talk about?”

  Lucy lifted his chin and kissed him.

  “I do love you, Jack. I’m just worried about losing you like I’ve lost everyone else in my life,” she said, a tear at the corner of her eye.

  Jack nodded. They had both lost, more than most people their age. Jack never thought he would feel the way he did about Lucy. She was the only one he trusted beside Toby, the others, he kept at an arm's distance, but that was slowly breaking down with Jasmine, Quill, and Rufus.

  Jack and Lucy held each other for a long moment and then broke apart. Lucy could see the fear in Jack’s eyes.

  “What’s the matter, Jack?” she asked.

  “I never would have started this if I knew what would happen to all these people. All this death.” He bit his lip. “Too much death,” he whispered.

  “My papa used to say death comes for us all. And then it’s about how we rise to the occasion or get run over by it,” she said.