Happily Never After

by Kirsten Duvall (ed)

  Astrid sat down at the table, her fingers tracing the various initials and words carved in the surface. A chaotic blend of names, monikers and swearing that charted those that had passed by. She didn't see a MAX or an O. She felt her eyes beginning to droop, her body suddenly sinking into the resistant surface of the old plastic chair.

  Maybe she could sleep, just forty winks.

  Astrid suddenly woke up; voices off in the distant had caused StepMom to vibrate with alarm. Astrid quickly pulled on the In-Viz cloak and moved towards the door, but it was too late. The voices were close and heading for the house.

  She moved to the furthest corner of the kitchen from the door. Wedging herself between the cooker and the wall. All she could do was hope that the cloak worked enough to conceal her. She soon found out. An old man, his skin tanned and leathered by the sun, walked into the kitchen. He carried an axe, his clothes a haphazard mix of knitwear. His eyes were hidden, obscured by goggles. The cloak was thankfully working for he seemed oblivious to Astrid; she covered her mouth, trying to suppress her anxious breathing.

  “Nah, nuffin here, place is bloody empty,” the man lay his axe down on the table and settled into the chair that a moment ago Astrid had vacated. His back was to her but she was fearful that he would feel the warmth of where she had just been sat, that he would know someone had been here moments ago.

  Thankfully his clothing seemed to be too thick for him to notice. He reached into a small leather bag slung across his shoulder and pulled out a tin can. Astrid watched, her stomach growling loud enough to shake the room, as he battled to open the container with a rusty knife. Finally he succeeded in peeling back the metal and began spearing out small squares of fruit. Before long, the man's fellow scavengers, a young boy and an older woman, appeared with the woman scolding him for starting without them. They sat around the table, the can was passed back and forth until it was empty and dirt-encrusted fingers had wiped out the last remnants of juice. Astrid was hoping that they would leave for her legs were aching from being cramped up, but disappointingly, the old lady reached into a small suitcase and pulled out a deck of cards.

  Astrid closed her eyes, allowing her mind to wander off. All she could do right now was wait them out. She was startled out of a particularly nice day dream when the old man slammed his hand down after losing yet another game. It seemed that he had decided it was time for them to move on.

  “Shall we take the kettle pops? Might do for tradin' or summat?” the boy asked the old man.

  “Ay, why not? Might get something from those tight bastards down at the Common eh?” The man coughed, hacking hard into his hands.

  Astrid watched as they readied themselves, then the boy walked towards her to grab the kettle. She pushed herself further back into the corner, fearful that he would spot her. He was close enough that if she reached out, she could touch his leg. As he lifted up the kettle, he gave it a little shake, one of those silly little habits, as if there would be any water inside.

  That was when the thin line, nearly invisible, that had been stuck to the base of the vessel went taut and then snapped. A blinding white light filled the room, overwhelming Astrid, consuming every sense of her being. She saw the others drop to the floor; bodies flopping like puppets whose strings had been cut.

  Then everything went dark.

  oo00oo

  Astrid opened her eyes, flinching at the light. Her head throbbed, as if she had been hit hard. She was still in the corner, but StepMom, the cloak and her backpack were gone. The scavenger who had gone for the kettle was on the floor in front of her, his eyes open, his mouth gagged and his hands bound behind his back. His fellow scavengers were nowhere to be seen.

  He looked up at her, his eyes pleading she assumed, but there was nothing she could do for either of them, for it seemed her hands and feet were also bound.

  Footsteps, heavy boots by the sound, approached the kitchen. The sight of the person nearly made Astrid scream. A mask covered the face, body armour and thick black gloves added to a black jumpsuit. There was some sort of gun strapped to his back, another smaller gun hanging from his belt.

  This person was neither a trader nor a scavenger. To Astrid, he looked like a soldier. And from the sounds of activity outside, there were more of them.

  The man retrieved an orange cloth bag from a pouch on his belt. At the sight of it, the scavenger began trying to struggle out of his bonds, his face grimacing in panic. The soldier ignored his thrashing protestations, and pulled the orange bag over the boy's head. Immediately the scavenger stopped moving. The soldier tightened the bag around the boy’s neck with a drawstring, then seemingly satisfied, hoisted the comatose scavenger, with minimal effort, up onto his shoulder.

  Alone, Astrid began to struggle against the plastic cuffs that held her hands and feet together. It was hopeless. She was caught. Two more soldiers walked back into the kitchen, dressed in similar black clothing and carrying weapons like the one before. One went to the kettle, and began rearming the trap that the scavenger had inadvertently set off.

  Was that what happened to Max and O? Astrid wondered. Had they been captured just like her?

  The other soldier walked towards Astrid, pulling out another orange hood. Astrid thrashed around, feeling tears rolling down her cheeks, “please, no, I was just trying to find my brother, my friends they need water, please I'm begging you don’t....”

  The world suddenly went orange and Astrid stopped being aware of anything else.

  oo00oo

  Gentle fingers lifted the hood from her head. The orange dreams that had consumed Astrid’s sense of self was suddenly gone. Thankfully, there was no ringing headache as it was with the pulse trap. Astrid just felt as if someone had flicked a switch from [OFF] to [ON] within her body.

  She was surprised to find her hands and feet unbound, and that she wasn't in a cage as she expected. Instead, she sat on a wooden chair. She looked to her right to see that her belongings, including the viz-cloak and StepMom had been laid neatly out on a polished wooden table. Beyond the table, a long window of clean polished glass looked out over a collection of haphazard buildings enclosed by a high wall. Astrid could make out a couple of black clad soldiers patrolling the perimeter, behind them a crown of dusty brown hills spread out as far as the eye could see.

  Then someone coughed politely, and Astrid suddenly realised she wasn't alone.

  “Welcome Miss....? Of course, how silly, you had no identification on you, well nonetheless welcome to the Citadel.”

  Astrid looked back towards the voice. Three people were in front of her behind a large wooden table. Two men and one woman, all dressed in clothing that wasn't stained by dirt and sweat. The man in the middle had been the speaker. He had a jolly face, like Father Christmas. The man to his right was thinner, grey eyes hiding behind grey glasses. The lady was younger looking, and had long brown hair that trailed over her shoulders, lying over her pristine black dress. Behind them on the white wall was a large map; it looked familiar, similar to the one that the Trader had shown them a lifetime ago. However, the map was quickly forgotten when Astrid's eyes moved to the jug of water on the table in front of the three people. Beside it was a simple white bowl filled with ... it couldn't be, could it?

  The bowl was stacked with fresh apples, pears, plums and grapes. Things that Astrid had only eaten if she had got lucky with the contents of an unlabelled can. Without realising she was doing it, Astrid pinched the skin hard at her left wrist, but nothing disappeared. The old people, the water and fruit remained in front of her.

  “Oh my dear, you aren't dreaming! And may I add my apologies for the manner of your arrival.” The woman smiled reassuringly at Astrid. “Though I hope you understand that our security personnel only had our best interests at heart. Are you able to talk?”

  Astrid nodded, her eyes never leaving the water and fruit on the table.

  “Oh for God's sake, take something girl.” The grey-eyed man pushed a glass towards her. “Really G
abor, I have more pressing concerns than this...” he pointed to Astrid.

  “Now, now, Simon... manners. We have a guest. Please ignore my colleague, he has been under some pressure recently, would you care for some fruit?” Father Christmas pushed the bowl towards Astrid.

  Astrid watched them, but they seemed content, aside from Mr Grey who kept glancing at his watch, to wait until she had consumed something. She had never felt so thirsty, so hungry and she had to do everything to stop herself lunging toward the table. She took a careful sip, the water tasted amazing, so cold and fresh. When she bit into an apple, she almost cried. The memory of what had been lost through the war rising up against her will.

  She was brought back to reality when Father Christmas recommenced his introductions.

  “My dear, I am Dr Gergely, the elected mayor of our settlement. My impatient colleague is Simon Hopkins in charge of infrastructure and resources, and finally Emma Dumas, Head of Security. We, for want of a better word, run the Citadel and our very interested in understanding why you and the others were scavenging in the farmhouse on the edge of our territory.”

  Astrid shook her head, she didn't dare look at them, instead she concentrated on the patterns of light moving through the water within her glass.

  The grey man cut in, “So you weren't there, is that it? Our patrol was mistaken?”

  “No,” Astrid replied. “No I just wasn't with them, they were scavenging, I wasn't.”

  “So what were you doing, child?” Emma asked.

  “Hiding, searching...”

  “For what?” Hopkins snapped at her.

  “For.... For my brother, we ... I ... I had lost him, I thought he might have been in the house. I meant no harm, I didn't take anything.”

  Gergely nodded reassuringly. “We are not accusing you of anything; trust me when I say we are only concerned with your welfare. Now what did your brother look like, how old was he?”

  “Blond hair, like me, blue eyes, normal looking. He's seventeen, or close to that anyway.”

  “Okay, well we can at least check to see if he's here in the Citadel for you.” Emma gestured to someone, that until then Astrid hadn't realised was in the room. A young man, dressed in a uniform similar to that of the soldiers, stepped up to the table. He looked no older than Max.

  “Yes Ma’am?”

  “Alex, be a darling will you? Go and check the patrol manifest for the past week or so, see if anyone was picked up that might be...?” She looked inquisitively over towards Astrid.

  Astrid paused, she was reluctant to give away too much, “Astrid.”

  “That might be Astrid's brother, let me know if anything turns up.”

  Alex nodded and left the four of them. Astrid helped herself to another glass of water. The conversation quickly turned to an informal interrogation. Why was she there? Who else was she with? Were there others?

  Astrid answered the first two, but the third she kept the truth to herself. She didn't know these people nor trust them. Not yet. What their intentions were, what they would do to Liz and the others. Well she needed to be sure. If they had Max already, then there was no point in lying about her search for him.

  Finally, the questions stopped. The panel, it seemed, was satisfied with her answers. The grey man left abruptly muttering something about output and filter degradation. Dr Gergely warmly welcomed Astrid to Citadel once more and bade goodnight. It just left her with Emma who smiled at Astrid and stood up indicating that she should follow.

  “So you must be incredibly tired. We'll wait on Alex for an update regarding your brother, but these things take time. If you want, you are welcome to stay with us. We've had a room prepared for you upstairs. Nothing palatial, sadly, but you should be able to get a decent rest.”

  “I ... I don't want to impose.” Astrid was anxious, she needed sleep, but felt unsure as to whether she could trust people who had knocked her out twice in one day.

  “Astrid, we've all been out there, you know, in the wastelands. This, the Citadel, is rare, precious and needs protection, but all our welcome here; all of us can contribute to a life without thirst and illness. Come, see what the room is like. If you don't like it, you are welcome to leave. Oh and don't forget your things. I'm sorry to say your AI box seems to have stopped functioning, but I'm sure our tech guys can sort that out for you tomorrow.'

  Astrid grabbed her belongings in a bundle and followed Emma along a white corridor, all clean and lacking the normal collection of debris. As they climbed up a staircase at the end of the corridor, Astrid could see out a window. A group of children playing in the road, as adults went about tending plants growing within long plastic tunnels. It all looked so normal, so safe.

  Emma looked back to see her gazing out over the settlement. “Yes, life is good here. Maybe your brother is out there right now. Hopefully Alex will let us know soon. There aren't more of you are there?”

  Astrid looked away from the window and shook her head, Emma turned and the pair began to ascend the stairs.

  “Pity, one of our guards mentioned that you shouted something about friends. I'm sure it was the confusion, the aftermath of the pulse. Ah, here we are.”

  Emma opened a plain wooden door. Inside the room was minimalist, but to Astrid who had spent most of her life in caves and tents, it was an opulent paradise. A small wooden bed, dressed in clean white sheets, a window overlooking the Citadel, a table with some fruit. She was surprised to even see a small sink in the corner with a large jug of water. Emma took a hanger off the back of the door, and handed over a small black overall that looked the right size for Astrid.

  “Sorry about the clothing. Not really suitable for a young girl, but it's a lot cleaner than your current ensemble. Now, there's a button just here by the door, feel free to press it if you need anything or have any questions.”

  “Thank you, I don't know what to say ... or why you would....”

  “Astrid, please it's our pleasure. We need new people. We need fresh blood. We need you. Now rest. Hopefully tomorrow we can reunite you with your brother.”

  Emma left. Astrid stood looking at herself in the mirror. She was shocked to see what she looked like, how old she had gotten. She undressed, glad to be out of her dirty and tired clothing, and slowly washed, watching the water in the sink turn deep rusty brown. When she dressed, the overalls felt like new skin. She sat on her bed watching orange lights flicker into life across the Citadel as night drew in, letting the juice of an incredibly ripe pear spill over her knuckles. The sound of laughter and chatter fluttered on the breeze. Astrid felt her anxiety slip away. The sense of excitement at being safe, being fed and clean overcoming her paranoia.

  Maybe she had found Oasis after all. Yet she needed to be sure; she couldn't let Liz and the others down.

  Astrid pulled on her In-Viz cloak and tried the door handle. It was unlocked. Tentatively she walked back down the short corridor to the flight of steps. The building seemed deserted, though. As she descended, Astrid braced herself for someone to call out, for an alarm to be raised. Yet she was only greeted by silence. She retraced her way past the room she had met the council in, the bowl of fruit and water still on the table, and made her way until the corridor ended at an ornately carved black wooden door. Nervously, Astrid reached out and took hold of the large brass handle. It felt cold in her hand. Carefully, Astrid turned the handle, expecting it to be locked.

  Instead, the door swung open. She stepped out into the street. The road was empty, the children and adults returned to their homes. No screams, no pleas for water, just the strange sound of people living without fear. She walked towards the plastic tunnels that earlier in the day the adults had been working within. They were full with vibrant green plants, bursting with different produce. The aroma and scents inside the tunnel were intoxicating. Astrid plunged her hands into the dark, cool earth. In this place, nature was alive.

  She walked back and slipped back inside the council chamber, closing the door behind her. By the
time she had returned to her room, she had made up her mind. This was no prison, she could leave, go anywhere, talk to anyone. For the first time in a long time she felt safe.

  She pressed the button that Emma had said would summon an aide. Soon, she could hear the main door open and the sound of boots ascending the stairs. A tentative knocking, and in walked a young girl, dressed in black and similar in age to Lizzie.

  “You need something Miss?”

  “This place, how long have you been here?”

  “About three years. My parents were killed, and I ended up here, traded by some bloke at the Commons. Best thing that ever happened to me to be honest. I mean, there's water, an underground reservoir, so big that the Doc, sorry the Mayor, reckons that it'll never run out.”

  Astrid took a sip of water. She needed to take care of Liz and the others. “I have some friends north of the woods. They're currently taking refuge in a cave. We have a trail of nanos; the first is in the farmhouse I was found in. If you follow it, you'll find them. They need to come here. They're hungry, sick, and thirsty. Ruan has a broken ankle ...” Astrid started to weep, her body shuddering uncontrollably against her will.

  “Please Miss, it's okay. I'll let the recon patrol guys know. They'll go get your friends for you. You need to rest up, get some strength back, you'll need it.”

  The aide departed and Astrid lay down on the bed. She felt exhausted, broken, but relieved. Soon the rest of them would be here, they could be together, maybe they could get their own house, grow fruit, splash in water. As the sounds of the Citadel at night floated in through her open window, Astrid closed her eyes, taking pleasure in the simple delight of lying on a bed. That was when the door burst open, and the aide and a solider entered the room, swiftly crossing toward her. Astrid, confused, sat up, in time to see the aide had an orange hood in her hand.