A/N: Friendly reminder that this story is part of the LLF (Long Live Feedback) Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
- Short reviews
- Long reviews
- Questions
- Constructive criticism
- "3" as extra 'favourites'
- Reader-reader interaction
This author sees and appreciates all comments, and does her best to reply to all of them, but may occasionally miss one.
If you do not want a response to your comments, sign with "whisper" and the author will see and appreciate the comment but will not respond.
.
A/N (personal): This first chapter is waaayyyy to long, I know, but it's too late now for me to move all the later ones so... I'm very sorry. Please stick with it.
I've also been told that this work starts off fairly slowly. I can see where they are coming from, but I promise that it does pick up, and this lays the groundwork for a lot of things to come. Enough of my ramblings, thanks for clicking on this work, I hope you enjoy it!
.
.
"No!" I came awake with a cry, my body frozen in the darkness. The terror passed as the images began to fade from my eyes, though I knew I would never be able to totally escape them. My hands were encrusted with blood, and my dreams would always reflect that. Still breathing heavily, I pushed myself up on my elbows and twitched aside the curtains to the window over my bed.
It was still mostly dark outside but there was enough light for me to distinguish between the abandoned buildings that made up the silent city and the sky they stood against. With a sigh, I rolled out of bed, shivering slightly as I left the warmth of the duvet for the chilly air of the room. The summer fogs were still hanging around, leeching away the heat each morning and evening.
Stretching my arms over my head, I pushed up onto my toes, feeling the pull all along my body until my shoulders cracked, the popping noise loud in the quiet room. Easing back down, I fell into a crouch, pumping a couple of punches out into the air in front of me before beginning to get dressed, trying not to think, not to relive the nightmare. It worked until I was making the bed.
Looking down on the duvet, covered in blue sheets dotted with white stars, I couldn't stop the thoughts. When I'd been younger, my bed had been a place of safety, a warm cocoon of comfort. Somewhere to curl up when I was sad. Somewhere to jump onto when there was a spider on the floor. Now... now it was a festering pool of fear, a place where the guilt I hid during the day came oozing out, infesting my dreams with horror and the endless line of ghosts I'd killed. I still smoothed the duvet out to remove the creases before I turned away.
.
.
The sky was just beginning to turn pink as I climbed up the stairs to the walkway over the main gates. It was too early for them to be open; the only way in or out during the hours of darkness was to go along the walkway and down a tight staircase at the far end, which led to a small door out to the front.
With no urge to leave, I exchanged nods with the two men on duty and leaned against the railing, watching the foggy street light up slowly as the sun broke the horizon. There was no life in the city anymore, the buildings empty and crumbling. A light breeze swept up the streets, sending my ponytail tickling against my arm. It felt like the stroking of phantom fingertips.
Shut up, I told myself firmly as I caught the long brown strands, holding them captive in my palm, but the hands that landed on my shoulders were utterly real. Teeth bared, I whipped around, my elbow out and just begging to connect with a target.
"Christ!" He leapt back just in time, hand slicing down to knock my elbow away as I spun to face him.
"Denny," I gasped. "Sorry."
"Jumpy this morning aren't we?" Denny grinned as he pulled me in for a quick kiss before wrapping his arms around me and squeezing lightly.
"Sorry," I repeated, returning the pressure. "I didn't hear you."
"You? Didn't hear something? Should we go across to the Igloo get you checked out? Ow!"
I was smiling as I jabbed him in the kidney, and he was struggling to conceal an answering grin as he pulled back.
"That hurt."
"Oh diddums," I cooed, dodging the mock punch he threw at my arm. "Now who needs the Igloo?" He laughed as he pulled me back to his side, and I wrapped an arm around his waist as we both looked out over the city.
"What are you up to today?" he asked me.
"Over at the Gardens," I replied, and he scoffed.
"Boring! Come out to the bridge with me."
I snorted, but he persisted.
"Oh come on! Just for the morning. You could use some more practice dry-firing."
"You always say I need more practice," I reminded him.
"That's because it's true," he said. "Come on. I've still got three boxes to sort out. I'll get more done if you're there."
"No, you won't."
"No, I won't, but it'll be more enjoyable," he admitted, and I shook my head ruefully.
"Alright. Just for a little while though. Sophie will kill me if I leave her weeding by herself all day."
"Wonderful," Denny said, and I let him pull me along and down the stairs, throwing the door open to the morning and pulling me through it. Laughing, I tugged away from him to push the door shut behind us, hearing the click of the lock as it engaged before jogging along in Denny's wake.
He heard my feet and glanced back, grinning at the sight of me chasing him and breaking into a run himself. I growled at his retreating back and sprang forwards. He paced himself until I drew alongside him, when we both kicked into a higher gear, tearing through the streets, leaping the cracks in the asphalt and shoving each other off-course.
We were both breathless and laughing when we finally slowed down at the place where most of the cars were kept. There were a couple closer to the colony for emergencies, but most of the small fleet was housed in this parking garage. There were more at the bridge, ones that shuttled back and forth when the guard changed, making up the total of about 20. More than we needed, for the most part. The majority of them sat unused at the back of the garage. Denny led the way across to one of the smaller cars, a silver hatchback. The larger Jeeps were only really used for longer trips out of the city.
"I so had you at the end," Denny bragged as he opened the door and flipped the visor down, catching the keys as they fell out. I sniffed in dismissal.
"I wasn't really trying," I said, going round to the other side and sliding inside.
"Liar," he scoffed, laughing as I scowled at him. He twisted the keys in the ignition and the car rumbled into life.
.
.
No matter how many times I saw it, the bridge never failed to a burst of pride in my chest. It was a humbling sight, an epic one, an iconic one, at least it had been, before the world fell apart.
Afterwards, the picture everyone knew had a troop of apes disappearing into the fog. I turned away, slamming the car door and letting the sharp sound disperse the memories. Catching Denny's hand as I skipped after him, I pulled him close to share in the warmth of his body as we crossed to the warehouse that stood on a hill overlooking the bridge. The checkpoint was visible, off to the side, and I could glimpse the armoury below us. The air was still full of the night's chill and the fog swirled around us as it dissipated reluctantly, but Denny radiated heat. I teased him mercilessly that it was because he was ginger, but that wasn't true. It was just him. The warehouse was no warmer than outside, and a gust of chilling air greeted us as we pulled open the doors.
"Hey, Den." One of the other men intercepted us as we stood in the entrance, clapping Denny on the shoulder.
"Nick. Anything happening?"
"Oh yeah, we had a fucking concert. Y'know, all the big stars, lights, speakers, the whole package."
"Hilarious."
"Shame you missed it, mate," Nick sighed tragically, then leaned forwards to shoot me a grin. "Alright, Jac?" He winked. "Still hanging around this old geezer?"
"It would seem so," I shot back.
"Ah well. You'll get bored one day. You know where to find me when that happens."
Denny growled, jabbing out his elbow, but Nick dodged away, his flashing eyes still on me. I grabbed Denny's arm before he could lunge after him.
"Yep. Alone in your room with your right hand," I said carelessly, then pulled Denny's head down to mine, taking his mouth with my own. He responded enthusiastically, hands winding around my waist at once. It was several long seconds before we broke apart.
"Hot," Nick said and I laughed, pulling Denny with me into the warehouse. "I'll be thinking of you this evening!" Nick shouted after us before jogging away. I shook my head ruefully and Denny even cracked a slight grin.
"He's such a..." He shook his head, apparently unable to find the words.
"He's harmless," I laughed. "C'mon." With a sigh, Denny took the lead, wending his way through the maze of shelves and boxes with a familiarity born from hundreds of hours spent among them. I looked up at the stacks of tins and cans as we passed. My stomach tightened. I'd helped gather this bounty, my hands had been the ones to carry them back here. The whole colony had spent the first few years scavenging all that we could.
The first year had been awful; people dying in droves, and those that remained banding together to claim all they could until most of them died as well. Eventually, it had been necessity as much as sense that had driven us all together, pooling our spoils and organising to get more. We'd been merciless, breaking into every single house in the city in a systematic search, stripping the cupboards of food, medicine, toiletries, anything we could get our hands on. We'd been just as brutal with cars—smashing windows to get in, taking out any supplies, draining them of fuel, even taking the batteries, though that was to shut up the alarms as much as it was for the power they contained. The result; this horde, and our survival.
I'd fought to be part of the scavenging team because I couldn't face the job of those who came behind. Dragging bodies out into the street, and burning them. I'd killed those people but hadn't been able to send them off. When I'd seen the bodies in the houses, in the cars, in the streets, I'd turned away and never, ever told anyone that I was responsible. In the start, it had been too dangerous to do so. They would have ripped me to pieces and burned me alive. Not necessarily in that order. After things settled, I couldn't see any reason to come clean. What good would it have done?
"Here."
I jumped at the sound, pulling myself back to the present. Denny was holding out a 9mm gun to me. I glanced at his hands out of habit, but they were empty.
"No sexy ear-protectors and goggles?"
He grinned. "No bullets, no explosion."
I took the gun from him, ejecting the magazine and checking the chamber to make sure both were empty. Denny nodded in approval, then jerked his head back to the hanger at the side that we used as a makeshift shooting range whenever Denny was teaching. Leaping lightly up the steps, I pushed the magazine back into the butt of the gun and took up my stance, both hands on the gun as I sighted at the large, wobbly circle roughly spray-painted onto the thick wall at the end of the range.
"Tell me about your grip," Denny said, even as I heard the shuffling of cardboard as he opened a box.
"Light trigger hand, firm supporting hand," I said.
"Why is that?"
"More control and sensitivity in the trigger finger."
"Good."
I exhaled, and squeezed, waiting, waiting... the small 'click!' was oddly satisfying. Relax. Breathe. Squeeze... click!
"Feel the mechanism, how the gun reacts. Know when it's going to fire, how it feels when it does."
I grinned but didn't lose my focus.
"I'm serious." He sounded it too, apparently having noticed my smile. "It's all about familiarity. Muscle memory, just like all that fancy kicking you do."
I frowned as I squeezed a couple more times. "It's not 'fancy kicking'. It's self-defence."
"And how long have you been doing it?"
"Since I was 11."
"Exactly. Muscle memory. It's ingrained into you. You'll never freeze because your body knows what to do. This is the same. And you don't want to freeze when you're staring down a target with a loaded gun."
I paused, trying to blink the image away, my mind totally blank and buzzing at the same time.
"Hey," Denny said softly, the sounds of his movement conspicuously absent. "I just want you to be safe."
I smiled and shook off the moment. "I know." Taking another breath, I raised the gun again.
.
.
I kept going until my arms ached and I could no longer hold the gun steady. Relaxing my stance, I rolled my shoulders to work out the stiffness that had settled into them as I walked back towards Denny, who was shoving the second box away as he looked up at me from where he was lounging on the floor. For a moment, I thought he was going to try and persuade me to stay longer, but I gave him a look and he nodded, reaching out a hand for the gun, which I relinquished happily for him to check over before stowing it away. His movements with it were much surer than mine had been, which wasn't exactly a surprise.
Denny had been a firearms instructor for the police before the world had ended. His skills had been invaluable in the first wave of chaos. I'd first seen him on the news, protecting Dreyfus, back when he'd been the mayor. I'd barely recognised either of them when we'd finally come face to face more than half a year later. Denny had taught every one of us how to handle a gun properly, ready to defend ourselves from the roving gangs that were still operating back then. They'd died out not long after that, but Denny had continued with his lessons, putting the skills of his former life to use.
As the main doors of the warehouse came into view, I blinked. Speak of the devil... Dreyfus himself was standing just outside, his back to us as he watched something outside my field of vision. It took another few steps before I could see what he was looking at; two jeeps, facing out along the bridge at the checkpoint.
"Chief?"
Dreyfus glanced round as Denny spoke, moving up to stand beside him, as he too looked over at the jeeps. Narrowing my eyes, I could recognise Ellie and Malcolm, but we were too far away for me to make our their expressions.
"The dam?" Denny asked, and Dreyfus nodded.
"Yeah. Carver's gone over the plans with Luke. He thinks he can get it going, or isolate any problems at least."
I looked away. Luke creeped me out. He always looked at me like he knew every secret I was hiding. Luckily, he spent almost all his time away from the colony, making sure the water kept running. An engineer for the water department, we were all exceptionally fortunate that he'd survived, but I still avoided him on the rare days when he was around. We stood watching for a few more minutes until I heard the sound of another car starting up behind us, and I glanced around.
"See you later," I said to Denny, brushing my hand over his shoulder before I turned and jogged away. He nodded, catching my hand to give it a gentle squeeze just before I was out of range. Throwing a quick smile back over my shoulder I lengthened my stride and reached the car just in time. Nick looked over as I tapped on the glass before opening the door.
"Heading back?"
"Yep."
"Any chance of a lift?"
He grinned. "Sure."
I climbed in and closed the door, looking back over my shoulder as he pulled off. The jeeps were moving out. I turned slowly back to face the front. The wide grin slid off Nick's face as he caught my expression.
"You saw them?" I asked.
"Malcolm?" He nodded, glancing in the rearview mirror, then across at me. "It'll be okay, Jac. Carver will get the dam working again. He's gotta be good for something, eh?"
I smiled and tried to find the feeling to go with the expression.
"Yeah. I know. 'Course he will."
.
.
With a hasty thanks to Nick, I climbed out of the car before we got back to the parking garage, jogging away on a perpendicular path through the dead city, heading towards the single patch of life. The Gardens had once been a park, but the ornamental shrubs and winding paths had long since been ripped out. It was organised with military precision with neat blocks of dark brown or green, all held under Wendy's careful eye. Some taller fruit trees, carefully cultivated over the years, were the only form of cover, and I used them to all their spindly advantage as I walked quickly between the plots, eyes darting between my goal and Wendy's ignorant back.
Luckily, she was busy inspecting the new shoots of winter carrots, and I slipped past unnoticed, dropping to my hands and knees beside Sophie. She looked around at my abrupt arrival, and shook her head, sending her long, fiery ponytail whipping from side to side.
"Nice of you to drop in," she said wryly. I grinned and stuck my tongue out. "Excuse?"
"Denny."
Her eyebrows waggled in silent question and I scowled.
"No!"
"Boring," she snorted, eyes turning back down. I rolled my eyes before imitating her, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position before combing my hands over the soil, sorting out any stones and weeds, until a slight noise made me look up, and my mood soured instantly. Alex was watching me from the other side of the plot.
"What?" I snapped.
He didn't say anything, merely sniffing before lowering his eyes. I felt Sophie glance sideways at me, but I continued to glower at his lowered head. It wasn't until I looked away that he spoke.
"I could report you," he said without looking up, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Go on then," I replied, just as quietly. It was an empty threat, and I knew it. I'd dealt with Alex for ten years. I could deal with him for ten more. That didn't mean I didn't indulge in a few violent fantasies when he didn't reply. All of which involved his premature... disappearance. We worked on in a sullen silence until everyone broke for water. Alex smirked at me before he strode off and I glowered at his back as he left.
"You two never cease to amaze me," Sophie said, eyeing me over the brim of her cup.
"He started it," I grumbled, waiting for my turn.
"Yes," she allowed. "But after you put him on his ass in front of everyone, he wasn't going to walk away."
"I would have thought it was the perfect time for him to start leaving me alone."
Someone finished and put their cup down on the table, where I quickly snatched it up and half-filled it before retreating from the barrel.
"I wish you wouldn't do that," Sophie said.
"Why not?" I bristled. "If he says something, I'm not gonna take it quietly. He's a..."
She was shaking her head. "No. That," she said, nodding to my cup. I blinked and drained it quickly.
"I've only been here half the time," I reminded her as I turned away. She also drained her cup, returning it before hurrying after me.
"So?"
I ignored her, keeping one eye on Alex and being sure to head in the other direction.
"I bet you didn't have anything this morning either."
I kept my mouth shut. She was right of course. I wasn't even hungry. My stomach was so used to me skipping meals it had stopped complaining about it.
"You really shouldn't—" she pushed, but I rounded on her.
"Drop it," I said, backing up the words with a hard look.
Her mouth closed but she didn't look happy and she didn't say another word to me as we settled beside a new patch and began combing through it. The silence stretched into uncomfortable territory before I broke it.
"Malcolm and Ellie left this morning," I said to the dirt under my fingers. "With Carver." I saw Sophie look up in my peripheral vision, then drop her head again. Silence reigned a little longer.
"Do you think they'll fix it?" she said eventually.
"I don't know. But Carver's got to be good for something," I repeated Nick's words. "Hopefully it will be this."
"What if they don't?"
I glanced around, but Sophie wasn't looking at me. She was gazing off over the trees, to where the rooftops of the dead city were visible.
"What if they can't?"
"Then we'll find another way," I said firmly. "We'll survive. Like always."
She blinked and looked around at me, smiling gently before returning to the work. "What were you? Before?"
My stomach clenched. "I worked in a lab."
"Oh yeah, that's right."
A pause. I hoped she would drop the subject.
"What was it like?"
Apparently, I hoped in vain.
"Pretty boring," I said carelessly. "Same thing every day. Take this over there. Print out these results. Run this test. Run it again. The highlight of my day was making coffee."
She laughed, and I forced a similar noise from my own throat, which felt tighter with every word.
"Everything is so different now," she said after a moment, and this time I was the one who looked up, staring over the rooftops into the endless sky. It was still blue.
"Yeah," I sighed. "It is."