Nuclear Rising

by Christian Smith

And feel my hand reach down around the handle one more time and pull. Staring into Celeste’s azure blue eyes makes my skin tingle, feeling the warmth of her body against mine only makes me crave her touch more. But I choke the feeling down, resolving to be embittered and confused.

  “What do you want?” I grumble.

  A dry smile crosses her lips, which are a dark auburn color to match the dark eye shadow surrounding her almond-shaped eyes as emerald jewels glisten in the waning sunlight outside.

  “Let’s not start that again, shall we?” She says, her smile fading. “I just want to talk to you about what happened, about our child.”

  My heart skips a beat inside my chest. “So it’s true then? We have a kid? Are you serious?”

  Her eyes are like glass as she looks down at the ground, replying, “We had a child Quinn, a boy, but he’s gone now. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean he’s gone? Like you lost him or what? Where is he?”

  “He’s gone Quinn. Meaning I lost him, during birth. He didn’t make it.”

  Her voice is slightly robotic as she tries to not let it crack.

  “Wait,” I reply, heat rising on my cheeks. “He’s dead? What? How?”

  Celeste reaches her long delicate fingers into my hand. “It’s a long story Quinn – you should get some rest.”

  “No. No. You’re telling me right now. My schedule is all clear and I want to know. I want to know everything. I want to know what happened to you, where you’ve been, why our boy is no longer with us!”

  A single tear trails down Celeste’s cheek as she replies, “Let’s start at the beginning then – Back to when I woke up on that ship.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Celeste

  INHALE.

  Exhale.

  Eyes flashing open in darkness, I try really hard to figure out where I am. I can’t see anything, and I’m pretty sure there’s something on my stomach. So I reach down frantically, only remembering a little about being on the ship. About Mars. Getting away from the nukes.

  “My name is Celeste,” I say out loud to myself, sitting up out of some glowing capsule, where it felt like only minutes ago, I was lying down and getting ready for the long trip. My mouth feels so parched, I need a good mimosa or frappuchino to jolt my senses.

  “Quinn?” I ask to the silent darkness around me. My eyes are starting to see a little better, and I can tell there’s some moonlight streaming in from outside. I turn to the glowing capsule next to mine, and peer inside.

  Quinn is fast asleep, looking beautiful and hot as always. His shaggy chocolate hair falls with slight curls around his brow, his jaw line so sharp it could cut bread. I craved to see his gray-blue, stony eyes, wanted his hands around me again like an insatiable drug. Just like that one night when-

  I glance down remembering why we had jumped on this ship so quickly. Why we were trying to get away from the planet as a whole. I rub my hands on a very round belly – it wasn’t there before, but apparently baby had been growing the whole time I was asleep. I was supposed to be due January of next year – I wondered how close I was now…

  A little kick and a flutter inside greets me.

  Swelling begins in my throat, and I feel tears come on. I let them fall onto the metal below me, like giant rain drops, they pitter-patter against the ground.

  I have to get out of here. For my baby, and for Quinn.

  Never mind the brisk breeze outside. Never mind the darkness, the crash, probably the world outside was completely dead. But my baby would survive – that’s all that mattered now.

  I grab my things, stowed away in a cubby with a leather bag. My Gucci bag – I hug it tight like I just met up with an old friend. Rummaging through, I find my phone, but it’s already dead. I throw a jacket over the silvery jumpsuit I’m donning at the moment – so not fashionable, so we must hide it away from the world.

  More tears.

  “Come on Celeste,” I say to myself through the tears. “You can do this.”

  So I step outside, trying to figure out where I am in the dark night. A full moon greets me, the man in the moon smiling down at me as I look everywhere. I absolutely hated camping, so it was kind of ironic I’d be out in the middle of nowhere.

  There’s a howl in the distance, a wolf or coyote – I didn’t know which, some kind of mangy creature I’m sure. But just past a line of trees I see-

  “A fire!” I say to myself, grabbing my bag over my shoulder. Blowing a kiss back to Quinny poo, I hike down the mountain, immediately out of breath, which makes me stop about three times before I’m all the way down from the hillside where we crashed.

  I wondered where daddy was – I would’ve thought he’d have half the world looking for me. At least half of Spark Co. One more glance back at the ship we were in, and I turn, biting my lip as I tread toward the campfire.

  It takes another twenty minutes, but I can feel the glow on my face, hearing three voices, all from men talking loudly about a bear hunt or something manly like that.

  “Hello?” I ask, getting to the clearing. Three bearded men turn toward me, wide-eyed as they reach down for some rifles they have nearby. “Hi guys – can you help me out? I think I’m lost, and if I can just use your phones real quick and call my dad, I would really be grateful.”

  Three deep laughs ring out in the dark. One of the men, blonde, with curly hair and bright blue eyes turns to the other man, a larger, more rotund man with black hair and a beard. They’re all wearing a mix of hunter’s orange and animal hides, definitely looking much wilder than my usual crowd. But I need their help anyway.

  The blond man speaks, “You hear that Virgil? This poor girl needs our help. What do you think?”

  A deep, throaty voice like a lumberjack replies, “Jax, I think we’re all lucky tonight – we just happened to be hunting some enormous bear in the area and picked up its scent not too far away from here.” Virgil turns toward me, a thick scar running across his eye which makes me jump a little because it’s pretty ugly. “Miss, it’s good you found us – you definitely don’t know what’s wandering in these woods.”

  And with that, the burly men invite me to have a seat, share some stew they have which tastes much better than anything I’ve eaten – probably because I’m starving. Baby kicks in my belly out of gratitude, and I’m just happy to rest for a second with all the weight I’m not used to.

  “Do any of you have a phone I can use?” I ask, my voice sounding much mousier than I’m used to, since I’m usually the one ordering people around. Seriously, so humbling. I hope my BFF Jane wasn’t anywhere near her – she’d totally judge me.

  The three men laugh again, and I look at them with a raised eyebrow, insinuating how I’m not joking at all.

  Jax, the blond-haired wild man, takes a bite of sausage and with a mouthful, replies, “Where you from girl? You know that since N-Day phones haven’t been working. All them satellites came crashing to the ground – you can’t use no phones anymore. Which I guess is good for us since daddy won’t be around anytime soon.”

  My muscles tense up, the hair raising on the back of my head – suddenly I’m creeped out by these three men when one of them could easily pin me down. I realize I might’ve made a mistake – but what else could I do?

  I can’t do anything but cry, letting tears come out. “I should get going then – thank you for the meal though.”

  Jax stands immediately, coming over to the log I’m sitting on, and kneeling by me, grabs my wrist. It hurts, and though I try to take it away, he doesn’t let it go, but smiles wickedly in the moonlight at me.

  “You didn’t pay us for the meal, girl. What’s your name anyway so we can stop calling you girl? I really want to know who it is I’ve been with before I do the deed.”

  I kick.

  Scream.

  Try to hit the man.

  But it’s all too late – by the time I realize what’s happening, three men hold me down, the air squeezing out of my lungs as a hand wraps around my
throat.

  Darkness comes.

  A welcome guest.

  ┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈

  A cold, empty feeling like death wakes me, my face covered in wet dirt as morning dew drips from the pine needles above me.

  My hands reach wildly around me, feeling my belly, making sure my baby is still in there. A panic races through me as I think about losing him or her. I can’t…

  I feel sick.

  Cold.

  Alone.

  Turning my head, which feels like its spinning at the moment, I puke my guts out into a patch of grass and have to lay down as beads of cold sweat form on my pale skin. All I can do is lay there for what seems like hours.

  I know what those men did to me the night before – my body aches everywhere, throbs with a soreness I hadn’t felt since my first time being with Quinn. My neck especially burns.

  And then a thought comes crashing in – What would Quinn think of me? Would he still want me?

  It awakens my senses, but all I can do is sit in the grass, trying to feel my baby move inside. Desperation grows as I try to slap my belly.

  Monotonously, I pick up my clothes, throwing the jumpsuit away, and changing into some that are in my bag. The men have long gone I’m guessing, since the camp is cleared out, the fire long out and leftover scraps of bones strewn on the ground by it.

  I plop myself down on the log, and just cry as hours pass, not sure what to do now, except maybe try to wake Quinn and tell him what happened.

  When the tears stop, and my stomach starts to ache, I decide it’s time to move.

  With one step at a time, I trudge like I’m sloshing through mud, blankly staring at the ground as the sun comes out in full, warming the air around me. It seems like an endless road, until finally I can’t go on anymore.

  Without food or water, my legs tremble, then ache, then give out completely as I stumble face first into a patch of gravel. Lying there, I stare up into the twilight-lit sky, realizing I might die tonight. And that would be fine I guess – I didn’t think there was a way to keep going.

  Until…

  A flutter in my tummy makes me think I’m hallucinating. But then another flutter, and another, until it feels like there is a whole dance party going on.

  “Thank you for coming back,” I whisper to baby, rubbing my belly and crying some more. I start to get mad at myself for being such a cry-baby, but that only makes me cry more.

  As the sun sets, I hear a voice calling out to me, immediately setting my nerves on edge as I sit up.

  “Ma’am! You okay?”

  A sun-wrinkled farmer-type wearing overalls and a straw hat comes rushing up to me, his bronzed face and callused hands suggesting he’d worked every day since he was born. A slight limp on the left side of his body belies a past injury. Concern shows in his dark brown-green eyes as he checks out my injuries and sees my pregnant belly.

  “Hi,” I whisper, barely a rasp. “My name’s Celeste. Please save my baby sir. Please.”

  Hefting my arms across his shoulder, he lifts me from the ground, a thin smile on his lips. “Call me Roger, miss. I’ll have my girls draw a bath for you and get you straight to a nice warm bed. I dunno what you’ve been through, but you’re safe now. Your baby too.”

  The sun finally sets, trailing the land in darkness, but for once I feel some hope.

  ┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈┈

  Days pass – two months in fact.

  Baby grows along with my belly. Every day though, I’m determined to work in the fields clearing out rocks and trees, wash clothes and learn how to work, since I haven’t done it a day of my life. It’s so hard, but Roger McDougall saved my life, along with his wife, Rose, and their two daughters Birdie and Sandra. My days are spent working with the farm hands, at least five or so men, including Roger's two brothers Claude and Freddy, and their own families.

  Every day I think about going back for Quinn, but I couldn’t even start to remember where the ship is. I even try to retrace my steps after the day’s work is done, but everything that happened to me that day is completely wiped from my memory like a freshly cleaned chalkboard.

  Then it happens. While I’m out trying to help steady a wooden fencepost for some of the men.

  My water breaks.

  The pain begins.

  Claude McDougall’s wife, Mary, worked as a midwife in the years before N-Day, and she’s the first to grab me and whisk me off to a nearby shed where a temporary straw bed has been put together for just such a scenario. Drab gray sheets rest on bales of hay, while the noonday sun streams light against the walls, warming the cool wintry December air around us.

  Another life ago, I would’ve just walked away from anything less than five-star accommodations, but that life was long gone.

  Amidst the commotion and chaos, I remember the screams, the pain, the pushing, the exhaustion, until six hours later, the most beautiful sound in the world greets me.

  “It’s a boy,” Mary says excitedly, flashing a goop-covered screaming baby still connected to me. Dark hair sits in thick, wet tufts above his perfect, red face, tiny arms flailing all over the place, even hitting Mary in the face, which only makes me laugh and cry at the same time.

  “He’s perfect,” I say beneath my tired breath, while Mary goes to work cleaning up everything. Roger is the one to cut the umbilical cord for me since without him, neither of us would be here.

  “What’s his name sweetheart?” Mary asks, a couple tears dropping down her own cheeks.

  Without a second’s hesitation, I reply, “Quinn Roger York-Parry – the last name’s up in the air still, but I’m set on the first and middle name.” From somewhere just outside the door, I see Roger lean in and smile widely, more so than the tough farmer had ever done before.

  The world stops for only an hour while I hold him, feed him, and just gaze into his big, blue eyes.

  And then it starts up again.

  In fact, the world crashes in, bringing the sky with it too.

  Loud yelling escalates from men’s voices near the McDougall’s main house – an argument that I can only catch bits and pieces of. Something about owing a debt, and that payment would be collected no matter the cost.

  In another instant, I hear three loud pops like firecrackers go off. Mary runs to the door looking out to see what the commotion’s all about, then she comes rushing back to me, terror-stricken with fear all over her face.

  “We have to get you out of here Celeste,” she says, trying to roll up some clothes, hastily stuffing them in a bag. “They’ll come for the baby.”

  I press my baby boy tightly against my chest. “What are you talking about!? Who’s coming? What’s going on?”

  “No time to explain. Raiders are coming to take the children. We have to leave this second, or else-“

  Another couple loud pops ring out, this time closer, and this time its followed by another round of pops in reply.

  Clutching baby Quinn, and with shaky legs, I attempt to stand, only to collapse against the blood-stained hay as the world spins around me.

  “I don’t think I can make it,” I say, cold sweat beading up on my forehead. “I definitely can’t run!”

  Mary glances side to side, huffing out puffs of heavy breath as she tries to figure out a solution.

  “I don’t know what to do!” Mary calls out, deep cries heard from out past the door.

  “Take the baby!” I yell out. “Please take Quinn and run! Get out of here!”

  Mary swallows hard, staring fiercely into my eyes, and then with a nod, quickly takes baby Quinn from my arms. I try to kiss his sweet-smelling head, but only fill my lips with salt water tumbling down from my eyes.

  “I promise,” Mary says. “I will get him to safety.”

  A moment later she disappears, flinging herself outside at full sprint – little did I know, but it would be the first and last time I would ever see my baby.

  ┈┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °�
��┈┈┈┈┈

  One year passed.

  All the light in the world seemed to be instantly turned off that day my baby was taken from me. The only thing I was filled with now was a mix of rage and sadness, with only one goal in mind.

  Revenge.

  I later found out the attack was from a group of men that would occasionally show up at surrounding farms, take children to add to their ranks, rape women, steal food, and burn houses to make an example of fear among the people trying to eke out a living.

  They called themselves The Remnant.

  A band of criminals, rapists and thugs that coalesced with one goal in mind: to survive by killing everybody else.

  I had also learned talking to some of the McDougall’s the men that had attacked me were also part of The Remnant, and had more often than not stopped by the farm to demand food.

  All I knew now was, I would have my revenge.

  I hadn’t heard a word from Mary, hadn’t heard about Quinn my baby, or Quinn my fiancé. One traveler claimed he had seen a woman who matched Mary’s description dead by a riverbank, clutching a baby’s blanket. So all I could do to keep from going mad was the same ritual. Every morning I would wake up and picture myself stabbing the three men who had raped me while I laughed at their pain and begging.

  Since news had broke about Mary possibly dying, tensions had become rife between the McDougall brothers - the only thing uniting them was the need to survive.

  One autumn day working in the fields, Roger’s wearied face turns to me, evidently at his breaking point, and with tears across his eyelids, says, “I’m not sure how we’re gonna survive Celeste. I am just a simple farmer – Rose, Birdie and Sandra all want to head somewhere else. They say this farm is a lost cause and want to head to Claude’s family farm north of here.”

  The loss of my baby had only one positive effect – Roger had taken me in as one of his own, and every day he acted as though he had lost a grandson when baby Quinn was taken away.

  I look up at Roger, and giving him a quick hug, reply, “You know Roger, I am so tired of constantly running, being the victim, of being afraid, of shrinking away like nothing. I think it’s about time we all stop running and we fight against them. I think it’s time we start doing the taking, and they start doing the running.”