by B. Buechter
“Just end it Eva,” he taunted. “End your life. Your pain. You are worth nothing anyway.”
He cackled. She squirmed in pain as the mental torture continued. A scene of dead and decaying bodies enveloped the other images. The effigy still stood at the edge of her room, taunting and laughing as she writhed. She was losing control as more horrific scenes started to creep into view. The demon’s laughter became louder and louder until it sounded like he was screaming in her ear. All of a sudden, she felt the strength to stand. Using a bookcase as support, she became level with the shadow’s face. The only feature she could make out was its teeth.
“No!” Eva did not remember whether she had ever screamed so loud in her life. Lunging towards the figure, she swiped the air with her fist, rattling the walls and splitting open her knuckles. In an instant, everything disappeared. The man. The images. The pain. It was just her, a pool of sweat, and a hand dripping with blood. Her trembling breath was the only sound that remained. A wave of relief washed over her and a smile stretched across her face.
She laughed to herself. “I did it. I conquered them. It’s gone.”
“For now…” the hooded man’s voice whispered past her ear. “I’ll be back…”
She spun around, wide eyed. Goosebumps rose on her skin. Something in her peripherals, resembling a shadow, had completely disappeared. Deep down, she was aware that the images would return and maybe the evil figure along with them. For now, she had expelled them from her mind along with any feelings she had for Jake McAvoy. She could finally return to her life as The Wanderer.
***
Eva was able to finish the day in peace. She cleaned her blades and wrapped her injured hand. Fortunately, the Healer told her that she did not shatter any bones from the incident. The remainder of her evening was spent with a hot meal and reading the last few pages of her journal.
It’s been too long for me to count the days in this bunker. Those of us who haven’t perished are too fearful to go to the surface. We have been out of food for days now… I think… I hesitate to admit that I have eaten those who would be rotting down here. I’m not proud of it. None of us are. But they would have just rotted down here, and we are starving. I shudder at the thought of eventually returning to the surface. That or maybe we will all die down here. This is the end.
The next morning, she opened the journal and turned a couple more crackling pages and stopped. At the next page were the notes she had scribbled weeks before. Hastily drawn maps with notes stemming from the doors and gates on every square inch. The images made her want to vomit. With one quick swipe, she and ripped it from the spine. She tore the spine wide open and ripped every page, including her own writings, from its tethers. She cursed. As she passed the fires in the food hall that evening, she tossed the crumpled papers and the rest of the journal into it, watching it smolder. A small part of her begged to save the wilting leather. It was where her story had been recorded. But now, it was ash. She desperately wanted to start over. Still, in the back of her mind, was Jake McAvoy.
In the coming days, Eva occupied herself with replenishing food and supplies. As soon as the sun’s first rays crept into her shack, she awoke, got ready, and left for the city. Autumn was fast approaching. Each year, she would search for seeds and small plants for the Rover farmers to plant for the next harvest. When winter gnashed its teeth, leaving heaps of snow on the ground, the colony would rely on any food they could, sometimes barely making it through. But she was determined. They relied on her skills so that they could live.
A brisk wind greeted her each morning as Eva traversed into the distant hazy skyline. Vivid purples, oranges, and reds reflected off the glass skyscrapers. Lately, Eva spent a lot of her time roaming deeper into the city, letting the Old Times fill her senses. The sounds of crumbling bricks and the smells of old furniture brought her imagination to life. At times, she would pretend that she was still standing in a busy city. One morning, she stumbled upon a building that had caught her eye many times before, but had never explored.
Curious, she stepped inside. Ivy and other creeper vines had overgrown the towering pillars and statuary. Greenery wound around the faces of deities she did not recognize. The sound of a babbling brook calmly flowed through her ears. She followed it. Much to her surprise, an entire stream had formed through the aisle down the middle of the building. Trees sprung through the wooden floorboards, warmed by the sun that shone through broken stained glass. Small mammals and birds hopped and fluttered through the morning light reflecting in the ripples of the pool near her feet. She tarried at each bench, brushing her fingertips across the ancient, hand-carved wood. A shelf of books hung at the center of each bench, swollen by years of moisture. At the head of the building, between two large trees, stood a marble table. Behind it was a statue of a man, arms outstretched and nailed to a cross.
He must have been worshiped years ago. Eva eased in and stood on the table to get a better view of the idol. Silly though. Looks like he let himself get killed. Why would anyone worship someone who was killed? Only a survivor is worth worshiping. History is only written by those who win and those who live.
After having her fill of this city’s secret gem, she continued on her way. Exploring the ancient building gave her some peace. Even in a crumbling world of death and hate, there were places like this, untouched by evil. Just as she exited through the large archway, she noticed a basket of seed packets that were labeled tomatoes, turnips, and lettuce. She stuffed them in her pocket.
It wasn’t long before she was carrying a backpack overflowing with leathers, seeds, and tools. As she ventured back to the colony, she took a different path. She happened upon another building that was just as unfamiliar. This one was also built in the Old Times, but the sturdy wood had not rotten or collapsed. It stood strong despite its age. She pulled out her handgun and cocked it in case it was home to an enemy. Her boots made no sound as she carefully stepped up the front stairs. The door was unlocked but nothing stirred inside. With one hand on her gun and the other wrapped around the brass door handle, she crept into the single-room temple.
This temple was much different. There were no chairs or benches, rather, torn cushions that had been eaten by moths. Dusty windowsills devoid of glass allowed in much more daylight. As her eyes scanned the front of the room, her heart jumped. Sitting in the front of the room was the tranquil deity that Tommy McAvoy had taken from her box and carried in his pocket. One hand was touching the ground and the other was near his chest, palm softly facing her. Even in this pose, the man with partially closed eyes was peaceful and relaxed. An invisible energy seemed to draw her to the statue, beckoning her to sit with him.
Ensuring the door was locked, she laid out her weapons and backpack and sat on the floor, mimicking this man. She leaned forward and read the word “Buddha” on it. Perhaps that is his name? Or title? Then, as Eva closed her eyes, she took a deep breath and was instantly whisked away into a state of relaxation by the soft breeze. She sat there, motionless for a while, taking in the scenery. In time, she believed this place could completely draw out her demons if she returned. Although they still existed in her nightmares, so did Jake. He was all but dead to Eva, a nameless man with a featureless face.
***
The McAvoy brothers did not leave the Warrior Rover colony for a time. In the weeks following their last encounter with The Wanderer, they did not leave their protection. William had taken pity on the boys and their father’s friend Michael, allowing them to stay. But there was one condition they each must meet.
“You must provide for your new kin,” he told them. “Contribute to your family. There are those who would not dare raise arms to strike down any foe. Yet, they cook, they farm, they tan leathers. I care not which craft you choose, my brothers, but you must help provide. Otherwise, your days here are numbered.”
Tommy had instantly taken up farming. He already read the book he found in the city countless times over. Jake, who decided to become the armorer
’s apprentice, became very impressed with his younger brother’s skill. And much to his own shock, he found leather tanning rather enjoyable. Michael, on the other hand, spent most of his days cooking, scarcely talking to anyone and only working when he was in a decent mood. Over time, Jake had lost respect of the man that his father had once called friend.
The McAvoy brothers remained in the Rover colony for a couple months before Tommy remembered the Nomads. He would draw the markings of the Owl on his face with mud, and after a while, he convinced his brother to leave the comfort of the Warriors and venture into the city. William was sad to see them go but offered them some advice.
He lead them to the border of the forest. “Follow the path through the trees and venture to the city. My people roped off a faster path last week. Take heart boys. There will be Nomads who remain. Seek them out. I feel they may have a story to tell, but I am wary of the context.”
Michael did not even see them leave that day. Elaine was the only one who accompanied William. She started growing fond of Jake, but he continuously pushed her away. His heart had never left the East. It belonged to Eva. This frustrated Elaine, but she decided to let him go, hoping that their paths would cross again.“When you find whatever you are looking for,” she took his hand. “Please, come back to me.”
“I cannot make that promise,” Jake replied as he pulled away and disappeared into the darkness. His brother trailed behind him.
Truthfully, Jake had fought to keep his memories of Eva. As her image began to fade, he would recite her features. Her intense aqua eyes, soft nose, pronounced cheekbones, and supple lips. Although her expression was always firm, he liked to remember her in that way. She was a strong woman and that was why he was so attracted to her. The last melody of her voice lingered in his ear. It was music to him, even though it had been a threat of death. But it was all he had, at least, all he could recall.
Finding the Nomads would be both risky and challenging. Before, Jake had discovered them purely by accident. He was not thrilled about the journey, but there was a chance that William’s words were correct. Perhaps some of them still lived and had more to tell him. Tommy’s intent was to protect those he could not save before. He never forgot the girl who ate with him that night. She also bore the mark of the Owl and her life had been cut down too early.
They made their way through the forest with little delay. William mapped out the trail for them, using the tree-markings and rope as a guide. Only once did Jake make a wrong turn, and he instantly realized that they had gone deeper into the treeline. Growls from predators rumbled around them. By the time they had reached the East, the night sky was lit with distant suns and galaxies. The moon acted as a beacon for the brothers to find their way into the city. Familiar sounds and smells greeted them at the border. Honestly, they felt more secure between the tall buildings than the openness of the Warrior Rover colony. The thought of staying with the Nomads, giving homage to the spirits of nature, and learning to fight well excited them.
“You know Tommy,” Jake rounded the next block and called back to his brother. The silence was starting to bother him. “You’ll have to talk one day. It’s been years since mom was killed and dad left. You have seen death and loss out here, tenfold. And still, you have not made a sound.”
Tommy ignored him.
“What happens when we split up and you need to tell us where you are?” he continued. “I mean, there are so many things that require at least some sort of noise. Express yourself through words. Y’know? It gets kind of lonely when I talk to you. It feels like I’m talking to myself.”
Jake’s memories of Eva bubbled up and he went silent. His brother could sense his sadness and patted him on the back. As they exited a dark alleyway, they heard the sound of drums. It must be the Nomads. They rushed over to find the dancing light of bonfires and recognized the joyful group of people. Yidi and Masha had made it out of the massacre alive and welcomed them with open arms.
“You seem to have washed your markings my Coyote and Owl,” Masha joked. Her smile was warm and welcoming. “We will get those back on you.”
Two women brought the paint over to the Nomad Elder and she retraced the symbols on their face. Jake and Tommy were home. They gave them food and drink and sat by the fire next to Yidi. He explained that he had taken a few bullets to the hip and now walked with a limp, but he was grateful for his life.
“Our numbers are many,” he explained. In fact, there were still at least a hundred Nomads in the camp. “My healers tended to me well. I am rather old, but I can still fight. Running is impossible for me now, though.”
His lighthearted laugh made the brothers smile. Some of the Nomads they recognized from before. Others were new faces. After the ceremonial dance and thanks to the spirits for another safe night, they had full stomachs and warm beds. Tommy had retired for the night, holding a small blade that he was gifted. Jake, who was given a large axe, similar to the one the Eastern Rover’s had given him, remained awake to speak with Yidi and Masha.
“We have so many questions for you youngling,” Masha said. “It has been too long.”
“Indeed,” Yidi chimed in. “And you are missing The Wanderer.”
Jake gulped. He knew that they were going to mention Eva, but he hoped that they would avoid asking outright. For a few moments, he pondered how to best answer, but ultimately decided to be honest with them.
He hesitated, choosing his words with care. “We had…a falling out. She promised to save our father. We, no, I failed to mention that we do not really remember what he looked like. When we ventured to the other side of the region, we got word that a man from my Vault was being held captive in a nearby compound. Eva risked her life for him. But it wasn’t our father…just a pathetic excuse for a human being. Someone my father knew and escaped with…”
“So after you found out that it was not your father.” Yidi closed his eyes with a pained expression. “You said nothing. I know Eva’s story too well. The whole story. Lies and betrayal mark her like deep scars. Parts of it, I did not intend to speak to another soul. But maybe you should know about it… Her path is filled with courage, but also stained in innocent blood.”
Jake was confused. Innocent blood? Yidi hushed and beckoned him closer. He leaned in with his wife at his side, looking at him with wide, glazed eyes.
“You know of her time spent as a slave - Doxie I think they call them - in the compounds?” Yidi put his hands on Jake’s shoulder, who nodded. “Well… after she had won her challenge against the Chief, but before she left the compound, she spent three years in that compound.”
“Doing what?” Jake shuffled closer.
“Leading it,” Yidi’s eyes widened and his voice dropped. “The Gang that calls themselves the Serpents. They are the largest in the region, by far. But they weren’t always that way. Only under the leadership of a merciless killer could they become so great. That ‘merciless killer’ was, and still is, The Wanderer.”
Jake could barely believe what he was hearing. “Wait… You’re telling me that Eva was the leader of a Gang.”
“Not just any Gang,” Masha corrected. “She built the largest, strongest, and most ruthless Gang in the region. By her blade, thousands of Rovers were sent to their deaths or lives of servitude. Perhaps it was revenge for the torture she endured? Maybe she allowed the power to get to her head? Whatever the reason, she was a slaughterer of many.”
Jake’s stomach churned and the color drained from his face. He did not want to hear any more. Any trust, love, or affection he shared with Eva before was now completely consumed by wariness and hatred. He did not want to believe it. This was not the Eva that he knew.
“How do you know all this?” he asked.
Masha looked at her husband and dropped her head. He spoke for both of them. “We were there as part of her council when the Nomads and Gangs were under a peace treaty.”
“Why do you treat her with utmost respect?” Jake became aggravated. “You bow to
her like she is some sort of deity. Why do you allow her to be here with your people when you know she has Nomad blood on her hands?”
Yidi tried to keep his composure. He knew that Jake was only hearing his words, not listening to them. “Because she changed. I have seen both sides of that woman. Her eyes that were once filled with hate, pain, and a thirst for power. Now… now they are filled with only pain. She saw the error of her ways some time ago. We cannot judge her past deeds because she has done so much to save us.”
Jake stood up. “No. This does not make any sense. She brutally killed thousands of people. Shit, she created the Gang that now slaughters your people for sport. In case you forgot, this Gang that sells human beings to a life of servitude, torture, and inevitable death.”
“None of us are without fault Wolf,” Masha said with her hand raised. “We have all had to protect ourselves. Sometimes, from our own ilk.”
“But you did not send thousands of people to their deaths.”
“There was a time where Nomads and Rovers would sacrifice their members for food and medical assistance. We’ve had to send our families and friends to their death. It is how we survived. Elders before us sent my husband and I to our deaths, but we hold no grudge against them now. Today, we are lucky that we are only picked off by the Gangs rather than our own people.”
With his mouth hanging wide open, Jake stood there in silence. His eyes darting from Masha to Yidi, his feet glued to the ground. They were so calm in speaking of the horrors of Eva’s and their own past. Both Elders immediately noticed the judgment on his face grew harsher.
Yidi’s tone hardened and his face dropped to a frown. “Bearer of the Coyote Spirit, you have no right to judge either her or us. Both you and your brother came from a place of safety and peace. And yet, you come here to judge our past. Her past. You have no right. You know nothing of this world and what it was before. Our hands were forced to battle long before your time. Everything we know, we had to learn. The Gangs have taken everything from us, but we had to survive. Do not make assumptions about us.”