3531

by Black, John

  Not arguing, she sat down near him, finding her own shade. “Where did you find that gun?”

  “My parents had stored it, telling me it would be very valuable.”

  She rested her chin on her knees, hugging herself. “Funny most barely have a spear, or club. My father said that there were two nuclear wars. The first took place centuries ago not much is known about that one. The second one happen about twenty years ago. Sector seven seem to escape the worse of it, but it still knocked us into a stone age era.”

  “What was it like before the wars?” Donovan laid back to rest. Each movement he made, caught her attention.

  “My father told me the cars hoovered a few feet off the ground.”

  “How were they powered?”

  She pondered a moment, “I believe it was called EMR?”

  “Whats that?” He finally took several sips of water.

  She followed suit emptying her own bottle of its final liquid. “I'm not sure some electromagnetic energy, I don't much about technology.”

  “Now look at us, we can barely feed ourselves.” He pulled out another bottle of water. “Try to make this one last.”

  She got up, and walked close enough to him to take the bottle.“Thank you. How did you get so much water?”

  “I have the means.” Why was he so trusting to her, when she didn't even trust him enough to walk side by side. The thoughts of doubt and mistrust begin to creep into his mind.

  Chapter 6

  The sun settled into the far horizon. “We can go ahead and sleep here for the night.” he prepared a place to lay out the sleeping bag. Rolling it out, he removed his boots and slid inside the comfortable sleeping bag.

  Rachel sighed envious of his possession, but said nothing, feeling she was already taxing his generosity.

  Donovan laid there, thinking of the events of the day. He wondered where he got all that strength to fight those stalkers. He certainly didn't understand why at the choice of life or death, he kept picking life, when deep down he hated living another moment in this wretched existence.

  “Son we have a surprise for you.” He ran to his parents with a smile that extended across his face.

  “What is it?” he asked. Looking he saw a box between his parents.

  “Open it son,” his father encouraged. Looking at his mom she smiled and nodded her head in a attempt to encourage him.

  Lifting the lid, a large bundle of fur bounded out and landed in his arms.

  “A puppy! For me?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Yes he belongs to you now, but you need to take care of him, food and water every day.” said Benjamin.

  “What's his name?” looking up at his parents.

  “That is up to you, son,”

  “Oscar,” he shouted, causing his parents to giggle in amusement. Later that evening, when he climbed into bed, Oscar joined him, laying against his side. They both fell asleep.

  Waking up, he felt something against his side, looking down without much movement, Rachel was laying against him. He could tell the night air was cold. He unzipped the bag, in an attempt to pull the covers over her.

  She instinctively grabbed his arm with her hand. “What are you trying to do?”

  “I'm trying to give you some of the covers, you're cold.” He continued to look at her, wondering if she was going to let go of his arm.

  “If I was cold, I would have asked you.” She blinked her eyes several times, looking warily at him.

  “What is wrong with you, you're the one laying up against me shivering out of control. I didn't exactly hear you say, can I lay up against you, I'm cold.”

  Twisting her face seeking a reply, “I didn't want to wake you,” she smirked. Turning on her side, facing him. “Who is Oscar?” she asked, finally letting go of his arm.

  “I think I was having a dream of my childhood, either that or my memory is coming back.” He gazed at the stars.

  “That doesn't explain to me who is Oscar.” she replied flatly.

  He glanced at her a moment then back at the night sky. “He was a puppy my parents gave me, when I was little.”

  “Let me guess you had the perfect childhood.”

  Sitting up, he placed on his boots, then packed his things into the backpack. “It was has perfect has yours,” he finally answered.

  “You know nothing of my life, struggling just to eat maybe once a day, or your parents do without, so you could eat a little extra. Look at you, with means to making water, supplies clothing even boots.”

  He slung the backpack over his shoulders, starting the long march back to his shelter. Clearly it was a error going north, he should have listen to his mother's advice, even his father's would have been better.

  “Where are you going? You forgot the sleeping bag.” She watched him, She then labored to roll it up.

  “Keep it.” Donovan continued his march southward. He looked east observing the perfect sunrise, but he didn't enjoy it.

  She watched him continue on, not looking back. Maybe she had been to harsh, but this was a way of life, to be tough, unforgiving, you would never know when the next moment of heartbreak would find you, so feelings of warm, loving caring feelings were to expensive this day and age. She followed Donovan a distance of twenty to thirty yards separated them.

  He didn't look back, but could sense she was there following him like Oscar use to. He was happy to gain more of his memory. He almost laughed recalling how his mom stopped him from giving Oscar a haircut.

  He reached the familiar ridge, knowing the two structures were just to the west of this position. “That's the two buildings I told you about.”

  She just shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.

  “There is some kind of structure that use to be a large boat of some kind. Where the ocean use to be?” he added. “To prove I came from this way?” he added growing irritated.

  “A lucky guess?” she argued.

  “Why do I even bother.” He then changed directions and headed, a more easterly direction.

  “This isn't south.” she protested.

  “I'm taking us to my shelter, from here its a southeasterly direction,” he explained with tight lips. After several hours of walking, he stopped to take a VS-771. “Do you want one?” he offered.

  “Sure, they do seem to help, I'm not feeling has weak.” She held out her hand.

  He placed the tablet in her palm. They looked at each other and a brief smile broke on their faces.

  “Thanks Donovan,” she quickly placed the pill in her mouth and swallowed it with a quaff of water. She watched him sit down and being tired herself she also sat, facing him. “This is not the best place to rest,” she advised.

  “I know, there is no shade here, but I need a rest for a moment.”

  She looked about her surroundings. “I'm use to always having shelter to hide in, and this openness is unsettling.”

  “Relax here we can see for miles.” He wiped his dirty face and wanted to feel the heavy mist shower again.

  Rachel glanced in all directions but finally settled on looking at Donovan. “Listen, I'm sorry I was rude back there, I...”

  “Don't worry about it,” he interrupted. Rising up, he offered her a hand. She grasped his hand, and lifted up. “Maybe I should place the bag in the backpack.”

  “No let me carry it, you gave it to me anyway remember?” she teased.

  “So I did.” Setting out, they crossed the flat ground and by late afternoon, they reached another ridge, with a deep breath he started his climb. Looking back, he saw Rachel struggling with the sleeping bag, but the dust cloud about a quarter mile away caught his attention. Something was rapidly gaining on them. “Hurry up,” he encouraged.

  Rachel turned to see, what had caught his attention, and seeing the dust swirling in the air, she hasten her climb. Taking his hand she was pulled up.

  “Who is after you?” he questioned suspiciously.

  “When you kill an alliance stalker, they sometimes send out hun
ter killers,” she explained briefly.

  Running to the buildings, he searched for weapons, and picking up some sturdy looking pieces of wood for clubs.

  “We can't hide in here, this is the first place they will look, and some of those machines have tracking ability.”

  “I'm just looking for weapons,” he explained. Handing her one of the crude weapons, he guided her towards the back.

  “This is a bad idea,” she cried.

  “I've been here before remember.” he tore off a part of her clothing.

  “What are you doing, are you crazy?” She backed away from him, but watched him lay the cloth across a skeleton, then realized his intentions she added a few pieces herself. He then took off his outer shirt, and draped it across the bigger skeleton. “Now come on.” Taking her hand he led her behind the building and climbing over some rocks to hide.

  “Are they very smart?” he asked.

  “I'm not sure,” she answered slowing her heavy breathing, she was terrified. She watched him pull out his pistol and wait.

  The sounds of the hunters could now be heard going into the first building.

  The couple waited in silence. To their surprise the house collapsed, causing a lot of destruction to the remains of that building. One of the hunters came out limping obviously badly damaged. Donovan got up and placed several rounds into its body.

  “Wait there might be others,” she warned, but it was to late, she watched in horror, has Donovan ran up to the hunter slamming his club into it. White liquid came pouring out of its wounds.

  “Look out,” she cried, spotting a second one rushing Donovan. Click, click...Donovan didn't have time to reload, swinging the club he missed, but the hunter didn't, striking him in the side with a man catcher. The barbs didn't penetrate his clothing. Twirling the man catcher he looped it around Donovan's neck.

  Rachel sprang into action, coming up behind the hunter, she first struck it in the leg.

  Donovan showing surprising strength broke the man catcher, then punched the hunter in the face.

  Rachel struck its legs again, causing it to fall. Together they killed the hunter.

  “For someone wanting to die, you sure are good at surviving.”

  He looked at her a moment, slouching over trying to catch his breath. “Didn't we already have this conversation before?”

  She looked at the man catcher in disbelief. “Humans don't have the strength to break those things.”

  He gave her a cold stare, that sent chills down her spine.

  “Ok what are you, humans do not have the strength to do what you did?” She grew very suspicious of him.

  “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  She spied the droplets of watery looking blood on his neck, it seem tainted with milk. “You're not human!” she backed away from him.

  “Oh course I am,” he argued, looking at her in disbelief.

  “When humans bleed its blood,” she held up her bloody arm, has evidence.

  He lifted his hand to feel his neck, feeling a thick substance he looked, while it had some of the same characteristics of her blood it was clearly different. Puzzled he thought again about seeing his mother handling a limb in that one scene of the chip.

  Rachel watched him, his continuing demeanor suggested he really didn't know.

  “When we reach my shelter, maybe more can be explained and you'll believe me.” Locating a good hiding spot, they made a campsite. He reloaded the gun. He had two clips left.

  She purposely laid on half of the sleeping bag, but noted he chose instead to sit on a rock.

  “At the shelter, we might can scrap up something for you to wear.”

  She looked about her tattered clothing, “well for the longest time clothing was a low priority. She was thin , covered in scraps bruises and cuts. She crossed her legs looking up at him, in his perch. “What would you love to eat right now?”

  Thinking it was a torturing topic, he did give it some thought. “The other night, I dreamed of my moms chocolate cake and she allowed me to lick the blenders. I must have been about six maybe seven.”

  She listen to him a moment. “The alliance allowed your parents to keep you?”

  “They staged my death, and kept me hidden when necessary. Later they moved me to the site I'm taking you to now. How did you know about that?”

  “My parents told me about it, but when I was born they would only take selected children. There was no reason to their madness.”

  Donovan nodded his head trying to accept the craziness of it all. Looking about, he turned his attention back to her. “Will they send more of those stalkers, and hunter-killers, as you call them?”

  She shook her head, shivering at the thought. “I don't know. I don't even want to stay to find out. I only know they generally execute women on sight.”

  “Maybe your dad is still alive,...”

  “Listen if he is great, all I know is to go south. He would want me to fight to live another day, got it?” she screamed.

  The silence grew thick neither one wanting to talk any more. Donovan didn't understand her sudden hostility. Maybe it would have been better to be alone, he thought. The wind picked up and the temperature begin to plummet. He huddled into a tight position against the rocks.

  She didn't look at him for a while. Why did she lash out at him? Pain of losing someone you loved was hard enough. She didn't want to get close to anyone again. Alone, no home, nothing but hardship, then came this stranger. She stopped her thought process. Sighing hard, she rose up with the sleeping bag and walked to Donovan. “This is your bag, use it.”

  He didn't move, “no I gave it to you.”

  “Well its clearly big enough for both of us.”

  He stood up, “all right, and it's getting colder.” Together they again laid it out and crawled into the comforting bag.

  Feeling something digging into his backside he searched with his hand.

  “What are you doing?” she complained. “Don't you even think about it, mister.”

  “Its a freaking rock digging into me,” he explained. Settling down again, he gazed at the stars.

  She finally looked at him, “its really nice isn't it?”

  “Indeed, if anyone is living on one of those stars, I hope they are having a better time then us.”

  She teased him with a elbow into his side. “Did you even consider they might be having a harder time then us?”

  “Maybe, but say, you never told me what you would like to eat.” Their breathing made swirling clouds in the night air.

  “Bratwurst cook on a grill,” she quickly answered.

  He turned his head looking at her, “Whats that?”

  “Well my dad time to time would pull out a antique grill, it was a really old fashion way of cooking food. They actually used fire. Could you imagine cooking that way, all the time?”

  “Why not just use the krago?” he asked.

  She turned on her side, this was a rare chance to talk, and feel half way safe about it. “We had a krago, but the taste of food cooked over a open fire, was delicious. With mustard, those long rolls, my dad would cut them and add all kinds of different sauces.”

  Donovan pondered how he knew and remembered the krago? They were used to replicate food, drink, they even mixed and cooked the ingredients for you. The dream of course, he remembered seeing the appliance in the kitchen. He looked down at her, but she had fallen asleep. Pulling up the covers to her neck. He rolled his eyes but didn't move for she was using his chest for a pillow. He fell right to sleep himself.

  Chapter 7

  Rachel found herself, laying on Donovan's chest. She looked up at him for a moment. No scars nor signs of a rough life, maybe he wasn't lying about coming from some container. Not wanting to wake him she eased up from her prone position. Her back was extremely sore. She quietly stretched in an attempt to ease the pain.

  Walking a few steps beyond the rock cropping, the morning sun was starting to paint the sky, revealin
g its presence. Looking to the north, she saw nothing unusual. Why had those machines come after them. The only thing she knew, they rarely captured a woman, instead they were executed on sight. The only other female she ever saw was hung, and the gang she had been with all perished trying to save her.

  Why did those people want to stay in those towns? She felt it was unnecessary to remain in such a hostile environment. She looked down at Donovan. What made him want to go north? He had been alone, but how long she didn't know, she made it a point to ask him.

  She kicked his foot. “Are you going to sleep all day?” She watched him blink his eyes multiple times.

  “What's for breakfast?” he asked.

  “Dave's,” She sat down in front of him, grabbing her water bottle, taking a sip.

  “Dave's?” unfamiliar with the term.

  “It was a breakfast diner. They didn't use kragos nor simulators to make food, it was all cooked over stoves, prepared by hand.”

  “Sounds good.” He thought of his mom making stuff by hand.

  “Yeah the alliance came and shut his business down. Most of his family disappeared, into the cover of night.”

  “Why was that?”

  She continued to gaze at him, “story was, his daughter was sought after by an alliance official. Matt, her brother caught him, and with revenge killed him. The family tried to cover it all up, but those stalkers came around, it was the first time they were used. The son were accused of being a spy for some other sector. The rest of the family just vanished. I hope they just escaped but I have a feeling the alliance took them away.”

  They both took their VS-771, enjoying several sips of water. “We should reach the shelter soon.” Taking out his compass, getting a azimuth, he continued to teach himself the use of the tool.

  She was eager to know what this shelter was, and this time, she walked beside him. She noted he periodically gazed at her. “What?” she finally questioned.

  “You're usually back there somewhere.” gesturing with his hand. He noticed she still struggled with the sleeping bag but said nothing this time.