A NEW FANFICTION! (And before I finished my others... shit)
Set in an apocalyptic world. I wanted Zombies (and yes I have already started writing that one too - double shit) but then came up with this idea instead. Well, it was meant to be Zombies, but it grew legs and ran away. As do many of my stories.
Anyways. Enjoy xxx
One Day, The Life We Have, Will Be Gone
Chapter One: Surviving Alone, In A Broken World
Jack
The boy held his gun closer to his chest, the cool of the metal pressed against his clammy skin as he rested his back on the car he had taken shelter behind.
He had been running too long, his food supplies depleted to merely half a loaf of bread and an apple that was so over ripe, it had gone soft in places.
But the boy couldn't be picky. He was in a world of live or die.
Fight to survive. Survive to fight.
Jack sighed, letting his head rest against the car door. He hated being so tense, so cautious. But it helped him survive. He had to keep on his feet, never linger and travel lightly. It had kept Jack alive this long.
Why should his life change now, just because he wanted to internally complain about it?
It wouldn't. Complaining was pointless. All it did was mentally drain him and pull his focus from more pressing matters. Like surviving…
Jack laid his gun beside him, pulling off his backpack to root around for more bullets. Since his recent skirmish with the Rift, Jack hadn't had the chance to reload. And the stupid incident of not double checking for the guards had landed him in a whole lot of trouble, besides just being noticed by the armed men stood on watch around the perimeter.
He only managed to smuggle out three stocks of medicine and bandages as well as three rounds of sniper ammo and a carton of shotgun shells. Not Jack's most successful infiltration mission, but at least he wasn't seriously injured. Or dead. Yet.
This time was close. His leather jacket had two bullets imbedded in the padding and there was a graze somewhere on his right thigh from a sniper shot that had got a little too close for comfort. But the chase wasn't over yet.
The Rift were still hunting him.
Nightmare soldiers dressed in black, their faces hidden behind masks, like monsters. Monsters. Because they were no longer human. They were just mindless zombies doing their master's bidding. Through fear. Not loyalty. No one was dark and twisted enough to follow him because they respected him. Because they understood his views, because they too wanted what he wanted…
Pitch Black.
Jack sighed again, grumbling out loud about how far he'd led the Rift on a wild goose chase. He half regretted blowing up his truck, but the thing was on its last legs anyway. And it had provided the perfect distraction to escape. Maybe even the Rift thought he was dead.
No. Jack knew better.
The Rift would've figured out there was no body. They may have even realised that the blood wasn't Jack's, that it was in fact just an animal he had killed, just to help set up his trick. And if he hadn't gone so far off the beaten track, he would have led the soldiers back to his hideout. Jack knew that it was his best option, but that didn't stop him from being tired and as worn out as he was. Scrapes on his hands and knees where he had scrambled up loose shale on the cliff side to make it as hard as he could for them to follow him. Nimbly clambering up trees to reach higher ground, taking a short cut through the freezing river in hopes the Rift would lose his tracks. He may have done, but it had served in exhausting the boy as well. But he had to keep going.
Jack pushed himself off of the car and began to trudge through the abandoned town. The old town, where Jack used to live. Before the Eradication started.
There was nothing in any of these buildings. Jack knew. He was the one that had emptied them all, before he founded the camp with the others. He used to live there, with them all. Even after the wars, Jack's life here, and in camp, had been easy. It was Jack's home…
But all good things eventually come to an end. Now, the boy explored on his own; monitoring Rift activity, infiltrating checkpoints, ambushing convoys and seeking out survivor populations.
Jack preferred to rely on himself now. He'd rather jump into the fray alone, than with others, whom he was risking their lives. Not like what he used to do, back at camp. Not like the other teams' leaders. They each ran their own teams, four to five people at a time, attacking Rift escorts or exploring new territory. As supplies got less and less, their ambush opportunities became more and more dangerous with each attempt.
Jack hadn't been back to camp for at least a year. Maybe longer. They probably thought he was dead. Or worse, captured by those that hunted him.
But Jack had his reasons for keeping his distance. It wasn't just hunting down the bastards that had stolen his family, taken his friends…
His guilt and his shame kept him at bay, but sometimes, when he was close, Jack couldn't help but sneaking back, just to see. Just to check on them.
His family.
Jack shook his head. He couldn't think about that now.
The boy slung his shotgun onto his back, picking up the pace as he made his way through the silent town. He took every shortcut he knew, jumping fences, slipping down back alleys as he broke into a jog. Street after street, house after house, Jack followed the familiar path as if it he walked it only yesterday. He could've run it with his eyes closed, jumping over the potholes, dodging that cars that hadn't moved.
The only things that had changed was the grass, the plants, the trees. They had grown, devouring whatever stood in their way. Roots of plants extended across the broken tarmac, acting like trip wires to ensnare victims. Cars were used as supports, their metal enclosed in vines and stems, hidden under blankets of leaves. As if it was trying to hide the destruction.
Defying Pitch. As if the earth was fighting back…
Jack kept going. He found the street he was looking for, jogging down the road to the far end. He was almost home.
At the far end of the street was a house. It hadn't always been Jack's. He didn't know whose it was before the Rift came. But after they did, it was left empty.
And Jack claimed it. It was close to town, yet it backed straight onto the wilderness. Even the garden had become part of the forest. Trees surrounded it, half obscuring it from the street. It was perfect.
Jack had rigged the attic so that it wasn't accessible through the main part of the house. He stashed his horde there. Supplies tucked away. A safe house he had set up for when he returned, or if he was passing through.
Jack had safe houses set up all over. One in each town or city he had visited or a random horde hidden somewhere in the wild. But this was Jack's main safe house. In fact, most of the town could be considered his safe house.
Before the End of the World, Jack used to live here.
Not in town. He used to live in a small little house on the outskirts, just beyond the woods to the East. He lived there, with his mother and little sister. But when the Rift came…
Jack had lost them both.
It had been winter.
He remembered. The once-pure snow stained with the crimson blood of his family, his own panicked thoughts as he raced out onto the lake to escape the nightmares, the ghosts dressed like shadows.
He remembered the fear in his chest, the tightness of his breath as he tried to escape, the icy mirror under his feet, the unsteadiness, bullets shattering the glass surface…
The cold water that swallowed him, the endless darkness under the ice.
Jack fought it.
He fought it and swam, letting adrenaline move muscles, push his body to the far side where the ice was thinner, where he was able to breakthrough. Under the cover of holly bushes and snow covered underbrush, Jack scrambled out the lake…
And he ran. Ran like the coward he was.
But what could a nine year old child do? Against men in black with guns and the intent to kill. To massacre, to exterminate every single threat. Humans that stood against the Rift.
This was the Eradication. Days and Nights of endless bloodshed as the Rift swept across the country, declaring war and murdering everyone, everything…
Jack hid himself in the woods, endlessly crying to himself, huddled in the nook of tree roots, hidden by foliage and a snow blanket. He sometimes cried to himself when he was awake. Other times he would just lay there, in a daze, wondering if he was dreaming. But the blood on his hands, the stench of death on his body would only remind him… this was real.
This was all real…
Jack laid there, unmoving, not wanting to get up, to face the reality of the world ending.
Jack didn't know the world was ending then. He was a boy. Just a scared little boy who spent weeks hiding in the forest, surviving off of plants and lake water. Even cold tinned soup and sweets that him and his friends had brought and hid from their parents in their own, make shift treehouse. Even now, ten years later, Jack still didn't know what had happened to them. To his friends he had grown up with.
He could only hope their deaths were swift, their bodies burned rather than left to rot and decay somewhere in the wild…
When Jack had finally ventured out of his haven, more to hunger and starvation than to mindless courage, Jack had found the town abandoned. No blood, no corpses. Just an empty, abandoned town.
One that Jack pillaged. Every house, every shed, every car.
The boy let instinct take over.
To survive.
To survive and fight the Rift.
To claim revenge for his family, his town, his home.
He horded all the food, all the medicines and blankets, clothes, anything he could salvage and stashed it away in the house at the end of the street.
He took every knife from every kitchen, every length of string, tools and books. Fishing books, hunting books. Medicine books, herb books from kitchens. Spices, herbs, bandages, plasters, medicine. Petrol from cars, matches, fire starters, coal from the fireplace. Tools from garages, duvets, paper, pencils, paint, sharp things that could be used as a weapon, glass bottles, alcohol, candles. He took clothes and shoes, coats and bags.
Jack raided the school. He took every book from the library, every chair, every desk. He pulled the lockers off the walls and raided them. He took batteries from the clocks, the supplies from the teacher's office. He took every makeup bag, every backpack.
A week. It took Jack a whole week to board up one house. He boarded up the front door and the back door, blacked out the windows and nailed the door shut, from the inside and out.
Jack attacked street walls, signs, smashed up cars and graphitised others.
"WARNING. QUARANTINE ZONE."
Everywhere, all around the edge of town.
For five years Jack survived on his own. The town was his kingdom, the house his castle. He no longer took to the streets but the roofs instead, the perfect vantage point to hunt wandering animals. He trapped deer in the football field near the school building and began to breed them, rearing them for a food supply.
He hid from the Rift, sheltered from storms and cultivated his own fields of fruit and vegetables in the local park. He raided the allotments for food, only when necessary, letting the plants grow by themselves and bear fruit.
Anything rotten, Jack would plant somewhere else, in hopes that they would grow again.
Orchards sprung up in old backyards. Jack pulled down fences and built his own. To keep out animals. To shelter young saplings.
Snares were set up to trap smaller animals. He taught himself to make them, using instructions from books and his own creativity.
The lake was a perfect source of water.
He had everything he wanted. Except, company.
Jack grew lonely. Even if he lost himself in books, disappearing into the world of Vikings fighting Dragons, or went on adventures with missing Princess's and faraway Kingdoms of rebellious daughters and evil bears and blue ghosts….
Jack could never escape the reality of being alone. He found himself in the dark ages, living to survive, surviving to fight against the Rift.
Jack was too scared to venture past his kingdom walls. Too afraid of being caught by the Rift, of getting lost in the great wide out-there, past the threshold of his territory.
That was, until Jack woke one morning, to the growl of a car engine. An everyday noise, but living in his world of silence for the past five years, it was an unknown sound. An earth shattering roar like that of a slumbering monster that had finally awakened.
Scared, and panicking, Jack grabbed his rifle; one of those he had claimed from the police station, quickly moving to the closest window. He peered between the wooden slats that he had hammered there in an attempt to fortify the openings.
Outside was a boy and girl near a car, just a few hundred feet from Jack's castle. They were hunched near a car, either side of the open doors, ready to dive in, but also ready to flee at any sign of danger. They both looked to be older. About eighteen.
The boy had tattoos on his arms and face, dark blue Aztec patterns from what Jack could make out from his sniper position. He had dark blue hair, spiky and badly cropped in places, styled back out of his face. He had a gun at his side, a large backpack across his back.
The woman also had one herself; a thin girl with dainty arms and delicate features. She had dark brown hair, illuminated with streaks of colour and bright feathers. She was holding her own gun, the weapon held in two uncertain hands.
"Shit. There's no petrol," Jack heard the boy curse, pulling away from the car and slamming the door angrily. The boy felt his body tense, his trigger finger twitching on his rifle. "Sssh Aster. We're trying to run from the Rift. We don't want to broadcast our location," the girl hissed, lifting her gun to aim around her as if expecting the Rift to burst out of a nearby building or from behind another abandoned car. Once the girl deemed it was still safe, she turned back to the other: Aster.
"The Rift must have syphoned all of the fuel. And I bet it's the same story for the rest of these," the boy growled, jerking his head to the other vehicles. The girl nodded. "I bet it's got something to do with the quarantine signs we saw all around the town."
Aster nodded, his voice dropping so that the two could continue their conversation, although quieter.
Jack pressed himself closer to the wall, unable to hear them. His mind was racing with questions. Should he call out? Or should he remain quiet?
Would the two move on eventually?
Jack didn't know what to do. Five years of no human contact and here now, a boy and girl were practically on his doorstep.
If he called out to them, would they help him, or would they attack him?
Before Jack could make up his mind, the intruders began to head down the street, sneaking away slowly. They were ducking from car to car, keeping an eye out from anyone following.
Jack felt himself panicking. What if they killed off his deer or took food from his field? What if they ruined what he took five years to build, to preserve?
Without thinking, Jack raised the gun to his sights, lining up the man's tattoo as a target… "What was that?"
Jack crouched slightly, watching the cautious look of the girl, watching her frantically twist this way and that as if she was aware for the eyes on her. Could she sense Jack's hurtful intent…?
"What's what?"
"I think…. I thought I heard something."
"You're just being paranoid," Aster hissed, repositioning his gun and turning to continue onwards, down the street. "If the Rift was really here, they would've already attacked us, long before I tried to start the car."
The girl hesitated, her eyes still scanning for a sign of a threat. Anything….. "I don't know Aster-"
The shot echoed out across the silent town, followed by the cry of agony. Aster dropped to the floor, holding his right arm where the bullet pierced him. The gun dropped to his feet, kicked away in a panicked moment of pain, too focused on stemming the flow of blood from the painful wound. The girl turned, forgetting the danger of the unknown sniper…
"Aster! Aster!" She grabbed hold of the boy, panicking as her own hands tried to cover the wounds. "Who," Aster growled between clenched teeth. "I don't…"
The girl seemed to remember the danger they were in. She lifted her gun, quickly ducking to grab the boy's as well, tears streaming down her face as she tried to pick a target.
Jack watched silently, trying to make up his mind whether or not he could trust them….
There was a voice in the back of his mind, asking why he had shot the boy. Was it just because he was protecting himself…? Or was it an undying madness.
Fight to survive. Survive to fight. Kill anything that poses a threat.
Even humans, who are an endangered species. Destroying themselves with war empowered by greed and suffering and revenge; the very tools that defined man. His strength, and his weakness.
Bloodlust. Power. Hunger.
A want. A need.
A desire to thrive.
Was Jack destroying himself?
Was he going mad from loneliness?
Was he becoming feral? An animal?
A… Monster?
The girl was in a panic, half her mind protective, the other caring as she tried to talk to the injured boy in a soothing tone, crushing her own fears, putting on a brave face. "Aster, we have to move. We're out in the open. Can you get up?" The boy just groaned in response, his cries silenced as he bit down on his lip. "W-who-"
"I don't know," the girl sobbed, leaning in to lend a shoulder to the boy, to help him stand. "Tooth-"
"We have to go," the girl pleaded, her eyes still streaming with tears.
Jack found himself stood in the exact spot where Aster had been shot. He'd watched the pair, deemed them safe enough to trust before taking them back to his attic lookout. During the time Aster's wounds healed, Jack grew close to the pair, listening to their stories, about how they each had escaped from the Rift, losing their own families in the process.
He listened to the story where they met each other; friends reunited after they thought that they would never meet again.
They told Jack how they were searching for North, an old friend who had left before the Eradication, but had been eventually caught by the Rift.
Then, once Aster was fully healed, Jack accepted the offer to go with them. They found North and saved him as well as the other prisoners the Rift had taken. Together, they founded a survivors camp in an old army mountain base. After that, Jack had made several outings with Aster and Tooth in search for other survivors.
They found Merida and her family, helping them back to camp along with many more. The older ones trained to fight, to hunt or protect.
A system was created and volunteers were accepted to go past the walls to find more survivors and supplies to keep the small community thriving.
The skilled were made team leaders; Aster, Jack, Merida, Snotlout, Eret…
The smart planned ambush attacks and raids; Fishlegs, Pascal, Angus…
The strong trained to fight, to better their skills; Astrid, Hook Fang, Flynn…
The compassionate became healers, to help the sick and injured; Rapunzel, Sandy and Gothi…
The rest each found their place in the survivor's camp, using their skills to work together. The system worked.
The survivors made a community and lived in secret away from the Rift.
Free-Breathers they called themselves. Something someone had said in jest and it had stuck.
North was one of the leaders, along with Stoick, a man who had found the camp, bringing with him, almost all of his townspeople that had survived the Eradication. His leadership and strong will to survive was respected by all. Being one of the three leaders was a natural choice for everyone.
The third was Fergus Dunbroch. He came later. He was Merida's father and had helped survivors that came to his town. They were all taken back to the Free-Breathers headquarters and joined the community.
The Leaders were nicknamed the elders. They held council for decisions. The community could raise arguments and all of the Hunter Team Leaders were present to vote as well.
Jack, leading of Team Frost, specialising in base and convoy raid missions. His team; Tooth, speed fighter and tactic advisor, Snotlout, muscle and brute strength, Stormfly, long Range Weapons specialist and Rapunzel, their healer.
Aster, leader of Team Speed, specialising in convoy tracking. Their team; Ruffnut and Belch, explosive experts, Hookfang, the muscle and Maximus, speed fighter.
Merida, leader of Team Archer, specialising in Scouting and hunting missions. Their team; Tuffnut and Barf, projectile weapons expert, and Flynn, skilled fighter.
Eret, leader of Team Stealth, specialising in spy and infiltration missions. Their team; Pascal, coordinator and genius, Mei-Lin and Sandy, healers and skilled fighters.
The people were peaceful, productive. They made families, living side by side one another, working with each other. Teenagers would be recruited for the fight, but only volunteers could go past the wall. The elders were fair and didn't force for sacrifice. They had rules in place to reduce casualties. No one under the age of sixteen was allowed over the wall. No one ill or unable were allowed over the wall. The wall was patrolled at all times and everyone had a shift, but it was fair. Everything was fair. They wanted to live in peace…
But there were still casualties.
Families torn apart when raids went wrong, friends captured, tortured, taken prisoner back to Pitch's empire.
They lost Astrid to a convey ambush in the first year. The Free-Breathers claimed the goods but the Rift claimed a prisoner.
They lost Tooth two years after. It was an infiltration mission gone wrong. She was the only one who hadn't made it back, leaving Aster without a wife, Jamie and Sophie without a mother…
Jack held himself responsible.
He was the one running the mission.
He had accepted the help of Eret and his team.
Two teams.
Twice the risk.
Jack was the one to make the judgement to continue when there were more men than predicted. The Rift were going to depart the checkpoint earlier in the evening than they wanted. It was lighter. Less cover of shadows. It had been raining.
The alarms blaring, red lights flashing, people screaming as they tried to get past the outer gates which were closing, blocking the outside world from the base courtyard. It was muddy. Hard to run.
Jack was leading the way. He was already through the doors, counting his comrades as they escaped the courtyard outside the base, his gun trained on the soldiers chasing his team.
Eret.
A shot to a Rift sniper on the wall. Dead, immediately.
Stormfly.
Two ground units swarmed from the North and South bay doors. Jack took down three in a spray of bullets.
Snotlout.
Eret took up point on the other side of the gate, using the rapidly closing door for cover. They took down four more enemies.
Rapunzel, dragging her brother Pascal by the hand.
Snotlout pulled out his own weapon. The gunman in the watchtower fell with a scream from his lips.
Two more by the North doors. One behind the remaining team. Two from the South door.
Mei-lin.
The doors opened again and another horde or nightmares charged forward. Jack held his trigger, feeling the cool metal under his sweaty palms.
Stormfly took out her own sniper, accurately picking off one target, and then another.
Sandy.
Half of the soldiers were dead. Eret and Snotlout continued to spray. Jack reloaded and aimed again. Stormfly took down another enemy. Mei-lin grabbed her own weapon from the stash they stole, lining up targets in her sights…
And Tooth.
"TOOTH! RUN!"
Tooth, who came last.
"DON'T LOOK BACK! JUST RUN!"
Tooth, who fell as she raced to the door; shot through the leg by a Rift grunt with a lucky shot.
Tooth, who screamed in pain, the echoes ringing out as she was dragged away into the shadows of the dimly lit base.
Jack's own voice calling out for his sister as she was stolen away from him as he struggled against Snotlout and Eret who were pulling him back.
The gates closing.
Tooth screaming.
The gates closing and Jack unable to reach her. He fought the hands on him. He refused to let their hold restrain him.
The gates closing as Jack hit and kicked. The feeling of more hands on him, the strength on his wrists, his stomach, his neck.
The gates closing, and Tooth dragged further and further away.
The gates closed.
And Tooth was still inside, in the clutches of the monsters who would torture her, destroy her before finally, finally killing her as she begged for it.
Jack had to abandon her. The Rift had swarmed the steps past the gates; Pascal screaming as a gun was aimed at his head. Mei-Lin barrelling through a line of soldiers to clear a path. Stormfly tossing a grenade into the ranks; part of the drop that they had managed to collect from the base. A poor alternative to a captured comrade.
"We can't leave her!" Jack screamed into the night, ignoring the rain as it pelted the ground. "Jack, we have to go," Snotlout yelled, trying to keep his grip on the teen that was doing everything he could to get back to the large black gates.
"She's not dead. SHE'S NOT DEAD!" The others had raced to the treeline, slowed down with the weight of the supplies they had stolen. Weighed down with the heaviness of having lost another.
Toothiana.
What would Aster say? How could Jack tell him? And Jamie, and Sophie?
Aster and Tooth had made Jack their godfather. How could he live with killing their mother?
Because that was how Jack saw it. He was the one that had killed Tooth. He let her come. He had agreed…
Eight of them returned to camp.
Eight. Not nine.
Everyone was in the bunker, waiting for them to come home, gathered to celebrate another the return of their nine victorious soldiers.
Nine. Not eight.
Nine joyous, spirited young adults.
Not eight tired people with broken spirits and blisters and open wounds. Too many to count. None serious enough to care.
The biggest wound, the biggest pain…
"Tooth?" It was Aster who had called out for her first. "Tooth? Where's Tooth?"
It was Aster who called, but it was Jamie realised it first. A five year old child who understood the sombre expressions at that name. The disheartened, mournful looks. The hollowness. The emptiness left from the loss of a loved one.
Jamie understood all of this. And he didn't say a word. He simply cried.
Sophie didn't understand. She clung to her brother, upset at his tears, calling for her mother who wasn't coming…
Aster's eyes grew wide. He hadn't seen her. The bunker doors were shut and she hadn't come in. He hadn't seen her….
Aster ran up to Jack, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Jack. Where's Toothiana? Where?"
Jack stared up into those two eyes. Devastation and despair reflected from his own.
"She's… she…"
Two weeks it had taken the group to move from the Rift Bunker back to the mountains.
Two weeks that Jack had spent thinking of what to say to Aster. How to tell him that she hadn't made it. How to tell him that it was all his fault. How he had thought of every way to tell Aster his wife was dead but now, stood here in front of the man who was slowly breaking down… he had nothing to say.
What could he say? That Tooth was dead?
No, not yet. The Rift weren't that merciless.
Aster had figured it out though. He listened to the silence. He listened to every tear that fell, listened to the apologies in Jack's sobs as the boy himself broke down.
Two weeks of a brave face and the indescribable need to get home, to apologise, to take Tooth's message with him. Because he had heard it.
From her screaming heart as she was dragged away into the darkness. "Tell them I love them." She loved them. Them…
Aster her husband. Jamie and Sophie, her children.
North, her adopted father. Sandy and Jack and everyone she had adopted into her family.
And Baby Tooth. Her unborn child.
One that she carried with her into the depths of hell.
Aster had known. She had told him the night before setting out.
It was going to be her last mission. Jack hadn't known. If he had, he wouldn't have let her come.
Aster didn't blame Jack. He didn't blame any of the team. He blamed the Rift. He blamed Pitch. The psychotic bastard that hungered for the domination and purification of the human race, turning it into something for everyone to be proud of. Everyone knew of his ideals. No one cared.
They all knew, no matter how much you supported the monster and his putrid ideals, you weren't perfect in his eyes. A hint of... anything he didn't like and you were an enemy. Impure. Unfit to live. And you were disposed of.
It didn't matter who Aster blamed… But no matter what Jack still blamed himself.
One week. He gave himself one week to mourn Tooth. And one day to bid farewell.
He took the clothes off his back and a food supply of three days. His weapons. Knives only. No guns. No ammo. He didn't deserve that much. The minimum.
Jack said his goodbyes in the bunker. Jamie and Aster begged him not to go. North said nothing. Everyone else tried to make him stay, but they couldn't understand. Jack didn't bother trying to explain. He said his goodbyes and left.
To the great wide out-there that he had been too afraid to explore as a child. But seventeen and finally an adult, Jack left the sanctuary of the Free-Breathers and ventured out to find other survivors. To fight the Rift on his own terms and never again risk any of his family in the fight for humanity…
Jack pulled himself out of his memories. That was a long time ago. He had been back to camp several times since, each time leaving a longer amount of time before his next visit. At first he returned after a month. Then four. Then six. And now, an entire year had passed. Five seasons.
It would take him another week to get to the mountain range. He was close enough. He could at least go back. Just to let them know he was still alive. He could update them on Rift activities, and gain any that they had collected. He could check how they're coping and how much they had expanded.
Hopefully he wouldn't have to add to the list of names that he had to find. Jack had all but tattooed the names into his arm, checking every Rift base, questioning any grunts he left standing if they had seen anyone.
Tooth, Astrid and Aster, who had followed his wife into the depths of hell to rescue her…
Jack walked towards the house at the end of the street. He stared up at it, slightly amazed that he had lived here for five years, yet how small it looked now. The windows were still boarded up, the red door, the paint peeling from years of sun and rain and snow. Jack sighed to himself. This place was bringing back more memories and some of them, were ones that he didn't wish to visit again.…
Suddenly, something snapped.
Jack froze. Shit. He had been too careless. Idiotically walking down the street, reminiscing about the past when he knew the Rift was after him.
Jack ducked down quick, darting to the side. He pressed himself up against the cold rough metal of a rusty car door, his gaze flicking across the emptiness of the seemingly abandoned street behind him. Jack's stomach clenched at the unmistakable scratch of paws passing over debris and a snout snuffling the air, rooting for a foreign scent: him.
The boy pushed his back further against the car door, trying to see down the abandoned street. He made as little noise as possible, edging to nose of the vehicle, glancing in the reflections of the windows of others that had been precariously ditched down what was once a normal housing street. He watched silently, trying to see what was hunting him this time…
Now it was empty; a ghost town. Almost.
Jack saw it first, before it saw Jack.
A wolf. Its coat as dark as a moonless night sky, smooth and sleek, a deceiving mask of its dangerous beauty. Eyes as bright as sunshine, yet a dangerous glint to them as they glanced along what was once human territory. Now it was no man's land.
The wolf sniffed the street, his paws taking him back and forth from gasoline puddles to other scents. Jack wished that he had thought of tricking creatures such as these; Rift hunting dogs alike. He could've masked his scent with oil and mud. Something told him it would fool the dumber creatures, but not this wolf.
This wolf… It seemed to be searching for something.
It nudged some dead creature with its nose, maybe a bird, trying to deem whether or not it was safe to eat…
Jack watched in silence, knowing the beast wouldn't be alone. Its pack would be close by. If Jack got caught by them… Well he didn't have the bullets to spare.
There was a snarl; loud and threatening. A warning. The wolf was glaring at something a little way away, ears half flattened to the side of his head, tail unmoving as he stared. Was it them? The Rift? Had they really tracked Jack this far south?
Jack cursed to himself silently. He had hoped he'd covered his tracks well enough, but it didn't seem to be the case...
From the far end of the street another wolf came trotting. Its fur was of a light beige with red smudges on its tail and maw. Jack felt his heart skip a beat at the prospect of blood. But what shocked Jack more so than the bigger wolf, was who followed it. A boy. Not a boy. A young man. He looked nineteen. Jack's age. Brown messy hair, the locks pushed messily from his face. He had two short braids on the left. His face was slightly freckled, his skin slightly tanned from the harsh summer sun. He wore a mishap of brown leather-like armour across his body, marked with red paint in places. And he was laughing.
The boy nudged the tan wolf with his hip, ruffling its head as together they jogged over to the black wolf who greeted them in kind. "What is it bud?" he asked, bending down so that he was eye level with the creature.
Jack watched, unaware that he was slowly moving from his hiding place. He was too focused on the boy to bother with the tan wolf that ran off and out of sight. Jack just watched the boy as he spoke softly to the black wolf. It was intriguing, as if the boy genuinely believed the wolf could understand. The creature yipped slightly, head butting the boy who fell over. Jack felt his body tense when he saw the metal leg. So he too was a victim of the Rift…
There was noise behind Jack. A rustle of grass. Blown by the wind?
The threatening growl that followed told him otherwise.
Jack knew that it was the tan wolf before he'd even locked eyes on it. The creature glared at him, baring its fangs and snapping ferociously. "Cloudjumper? What's wrong?" Jack could hear the boy approaching. Hopefully he could call off the wolf. They seemed to be his after all.
Before Jack could say anything the black wolf ran into view, turning to growl just as ferociously. Jack felt his heart in his throat. And his gun was still slung over his back….
Jack wanted to call out, but he wasn't sure if that would signal the wolves to strike. Unconsciously he pushed himself back into the car as much as the metal would allow. It was then that the boy appeared. He faltered at the sight of the white haired boy pinned against the car, as if seeing him was the most unbelievable thing that the boy could imagine. He gave Jack a wide birth, staying behind the protection of two very angry beasts, bright green eyes full of shock and… fear…
"Another human…" the boy whispered, moving to crouch between the wolves. He seemed to study Jack, who was getting more and more unnerved by the blood stained wolf teeth that seemed to be aimed at his throat. Jack wanted to speak but he had no defence if the wolves lunged. Slowly, the boy raised his hands, placing one each on each beast's maw, instantly silencing their growls. But it didn't stop their murderous glares as they continued to stare out Jack.
"Who are you? Why are you here?" The boy asked, strength in his voice. Yet he spoke softly, his words kind.
"M-my name is Jack," the white-haired boy said. He tried to ignore the wolves and watched the boy. "I'm running from the Rift. Who are you?" The boy hesitated for a moment. "Hiccup."
Jack nodded, before eyeing the wolves. He ignored the small voice in his head questioning the boy's name, but said nothing. "Can I get up?"
Hiccup nodded, moving backwards, guiding the wolves with him. Jack moved slowly, still unsure if the boy had full command of the animals. He dusted off his trousers, trying to keep himself calm, as if it was natural to be threatened by wolves…
The boys stood in silence for a moment, assessing the other.
Hiccup was the first to speak. "Are there others?"
"You mean survivors?" Hiccup nodded. "Yes," Jack said slowly. "But not with me." The boy hesitated. Hiccup was a survivor, so Jack should tell him of the base. But over the years, Jack had learnt the hard way, not to believe people so easily…
No. Hiccup was a survivor, just like Jack. He was alone. Like Jack. He shouldn't be so suspicious.
"Why? Are you looking for someone?" The brunette dropped his eyes. Jack caught the flicker of sadness, but the moment passed and it was gone.
More silence.
Jack was nervous. He looked around, his instincts telling him that the two of them were sitting ducks. And the Rift were still hunting him...
"We should hide," Jack said, glancing up to the house. He was planning to spend the night here. And he was sure there was food still in the attic… "The Rift are coming."
Hiccup made no attempt to move. He was watching the wolves quietly, as if deep in thought. "I have a safe house in this town," Jack said, pointing to the house behind Hiccup. "It's secure. We can camp in there tonight. Or, I'm going to at least," he said when there was still no response from the boy.
Slowly, Jack stepped to the side. The tan wolf growled immediately, but Hiccup laid a hand on his maw again and the wolf did not move.
Jack didn't turn his back as he made his way over to the tree in the corner of the house's garden. The grass was extremely overgrown making it difficult at first to find a decent hand hold. But memory kicked in and Jack was able to navigate up the tree with ease. Now and again he kept peering over his shoulder to see if the boy, Hiccup, was following, but he still seemed locked in thought. And he was still stood out in the open…
Jack managed to reach the top of the tree quickly, jumping onto the roof and over to the one window that hadn't been boarded up. His own entrance and exit to the safe house he had lived in for five years.
Nothing had changed. It was all as it was. For the first time in months Jack felt himself relax. But at the same time, a little disappointed. He had wanted Hiccup to follow him. It was rare to find survivors nowadays, especially ones that were roaming around by themselves, and the boy intrigued him. But Jack knew better than to pressure people to do things. Especially when a certain someone has two lethal dogs at his beckon call. Wolves, his mind corrected him.
Jack slipped off his back pack and moved back to the attic window. He could see the street clearly, and the empty space where the boys and his wolves had been stood. Jack sighed to himself and scratched his head. Nothing to do now. The boy closed the window and locked it, moving to the makeshift bed in the corner, made up of a few dozen duvets and twice as many blankets bundled together. Under the floorboards were tinned fruits and reserves hidden from anyone else who decided to camp in the house.
It wasn't that Jack wouldn't share. He just needed his own food supplies for when he needed a quick hideaway, such as now. Jack grabbed himself some peaches in syrup and one of his favourite books. He kicked off the top three layers of clothes, getting ready to dive into the duvet pile. He put some candles on the side with a match and some sand paper for when it got dark, before cocooning himself in the blankets.
Jack loved fantasy books. He had made several trips from the Free-Breather's camp to here, just taking books back and forth for the children to read. He'd left his favourite, or at least copies of his favourites in the attic for the times when he came back for some peace and quiet. The library had plenty of copies, so Jack didn't have to feel guilty about not sharing some good reads with the children.
North and Aster were impressed with Jacks capability as a nine year old to survive. They marvelled at his self-sustaining deer pen, his farm and traps around the town. They incorporated many of Jack's ideas into the bunker in the mountains, giving Jack the opportunity to perfect his traps and inventions, making them more effective. They all taught him a lot.
Tooth taught him how to use his size and speed.
Aster taught him how to use projectile weapons.
North taught him how to remain human.
Sandy taught him hope.
And Rapunzel taught him love. But it was a fragile love. Jack didn't want to hurt her. He knew the pain of losing family, with Emma and his Mom. He didn't want Rapunzel to experience that again. She had her younger brother, Pascal.
Besides, Flynn suited her better. He provided for her, for her and her brother and kept them safe. Jack wasn't the one she truly needed….
Night fell quickly, bringing with it the silence of an abandoned and broken world. Jack had long since fallen asleep. He had been too exhausted to bask in the glow of the sunset, or count the stars as they appeared in the night sky, something he would do before sleep. It was enough, just to accept the little beauty that remained in these lands. Like flowers, blooming in fields and gardens, as if defying Pitch's reign. Green fields and blue skies. The constant reminder that Jack was free.
But never free from danger. He couldn't admire their beauty for long, always moving onwards. Even when he slept, the boy was never at peace. He had learnt to doze and nap, never sleeping properly in case someone would sneak up on him. He was always alert, always on guard, in case an enemy, or predator was lurking near….
The rustling of the leaves outside were a comfort in this dark void. The scratching on the roof of his hideout seemed to fill the darkness with signs of life, yet Jack knew that noise could mask the sounds of footsteps, the hiss of grass against someone's legs as they approached his hiding place– What was that?
Jack was awake immediately. He was sat up, his hand on his flip knife, the other on something hard and heavy to throw. Something creaked beneath him…
The gentle tap of footsteps echoed off of the wood flooring…
Someone else was in the house.
Jack pulled his eyes from the ground, and stared over at the ladder that led down to the top floor of the house. The trapdoor was still shut. It was still secured, locked tight with several bike chains that Jack had found from his exploration. He had buried it under more boxes of salvaged goods. It would be hard to get into the attic from there, but not impossible. Although, it should at least give Jack plenty of time to escape through the window and into the woods, hopefully unseen…
But Jack could hear more than one set of footsteps. They were moving slowly, there feet gliding across the floor quietly…
Four pairs of feet. Four enemies.
Survivors? Or the Rift? Had they followed him this far? But how did they know he was here…
If if was the Rift, they would've raided every other house. Jack would've heard them.
Silently, Jack pulled himself out of his duvet pile, ignoring the cold night air. He put down the book he held, reaching out for his gun rather than the dull implement. But if he started a fight, the Rift would just burn the house and Jack would be forced to flee into gun fire. He couldn't save this place if he fought like that…
Jack's thoughts were suddenly disrupted by a sharp noise from somewhere behind him. The boy twisted around, aiming the barrel of his gun to the source of the noise to find… Hiccup? He was perched quietly at the window which Jack used as his main entrance point. He looked a little ashamed, his face lit up by the pale moonlight. He looked worried, glancing over his shoulder before tapping on the window again.
Jack sighed in relief, lowering his gun. He felt himself laugh, internally kicking himself for actually aiming the gun to Hiccup.
But it could've been the Rift, he reminded himself, moving closer to the window, when suddenly more footsteps below echoed up to the attic.
Jack froze. Could this be… a trick? Hiccup rapped on the window pane again, glancing over his shoulder once more.
"Hurry up," he mouthed, ushering Jack to quicken his pace.
He couldn't… he was so confused when he first saw me. Did something… was it… me?
Jack stared at the boy; the way he tensed as he glared at something over his shoulder. That same selfish survival instinct crept up to somewhere in his throat. The same dark voices questioning if he could trust Hiccup and if Hiccup could trust him. Wouldn't they be better just leaving each other alone? Then he wouldn't have to think or worry about him. Jack could just go on the way he had been for the past two years: not endangering anyone else, only looking out for himself…
Jack felt his eyes glance over Hiccup again. He looked tired and almost… fearful. Even as he was perched, perfectly balanced, on the roof ledge, he looked off somehow. Not quite as he was this morning. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Jack thought he could see a plea.
The white-haired survivor stood up, quickly rushing to the window to pull it open. He ignored the colder air of the attic, and the breeze that blew in with the straggler, that formed goose-bumps over his bare legs. "Thanks," Hiccup breathed, helping Jack close the window behind him, watching as Jack bolted up the opening, peering out across the street. It was empty. Just as Jack had left it…
"What are you doing here?" Jack asked eventually, once he had docked his gun back by his bed, and closed the shutters on his makeshift entrance. He hadn't expected to see the teen again after their abrupt meeting and departure in the street earlier that morning. "Not sure," the boy said slowly. "But you offered so…"
Hiccup trailed off. He looked the place over, still crouched slightly, his head tilted to the side ever so gently as he stared at the different things around the room. "So what made you change your mind?" Jack asked, pulling on a pair of black jeans and his black hoodie for more warmth, trying not to focus on the way Hiccup was still crouched; animalistic… and guarded.
The floorboards beneath his feet creaked. Jack glanced down, his fingers freezing on his belt buckle. Was it the rift? Was this a trap? Was Hiccup going to turn on him, sell him to the nightmare monsters that hunted humans from the shadows?
"They're restless," Hiccup murmured, caressing the wood beneath his feet. The wolves… "They know the hunters followed you. They've never come this far South before. Usually they stop at the river…"
Hiccup lifted his eyes, his own meeting with the white-haired survivor. "Why do you risk going so close? Why do you deliberately attack them?"
Jack stumbled for an answer. How did this boy know…? "They have my family," the boy found himself saying. "I need to find them."
The brunette seemed to ponder the comment. "How long ago?" Jack hesitated. Why should he answer? What did he owe to this boy, to someone that he had only just met…?
"Two years."
"And you think they're still alive."
"I have to," Jack said, his voice edging on anger. "It's what keeps me going."
Hiccup nodded silently, lowering his head. "I lost some too," he said, standing, to reveal his missing leg. Jack couldn't help but cringe at the sight of it, illuminated by the dim candlelight. But from the bottom of the stump, it seemed to move, like some sort of contraption that he had used to replace his missing foot…
"Did they do that?" Jack whispered. But it didn't seem to be a crude job. Instead it looked specifically designed. Maybe he had lost it before the Eradication….
"No," Hiccup said, smiling as he pulled the metal leg closer. "It was me."
And the conversation ended there. Jack looked awkwardly to his bed, to the food hidden beneath his floorboards. The wolves scratched on the floor below, growling softly. Hiccup stared at the floor, seemingly brooding over something…
"Are you hungry?" Jack asked, breaking the awkward silence. Hiccup looked up, scowling slightly as if the concept of hunger eluded him. He tilted his head on one side, glancing Jack up and down. "I don't need anything…" he said slowly, his gaze lingering too long. Jack could feel his cheeks flush slightly from embarrassment. "I'm offering you food. Now take it already." Jack grabbed a spare tin from his pile, tossing it to Hiccup. The boy snatched it out of the air bringing it to his nose and… sniffing it? But the boy had a slight wild look about him.
Jack knew that spending years without human contact affected people in different ways. It was a miracle he kept his sanity.
Part of it, his brain said. You did shoot Aster when he first arrived. And how many have you killed since…
Jack watched, dumbfounded, as Hiccup turned the tin over, sniffing each inch of it. With one hand Hiccup held the tin and with the other… he used his nail to cut an opening!
Jack tried to ignore the boy, instead busying himself by moving near the duvet pile, reaching out to the rafter behind where his candles were lined up. He lit a couple, bringing half of them over to a small stool on the other side of the attic, lighting the room some more. Hiccup was happily eating the fruit slices, using a sharp nail to dig each one out. Jack sat himself back onto the floor, soaking in the comfortable quiet. He wanted to talk, to enjoy conversation like he used to. But, where to start? What should he ask? Or should he say something about himself first?
"That's delicious," Hiccup grinned, draining the remainder of the tin. "I had forgotten the taste of peaches."
Jack smiled, recalling Aster's words. "I miss strawberries," he murmured unconsciously, smiling when Hiccup looked up. He smiled again. "I agree."
It was as if Hiccup and Jack were long lost brothers. They fell into a simple, yet easy conversation, avoiding the subject of the End of the World. The two were happy to relax, not even giving the remote sign of caution of the other, as if the human race wasn't an endangered species. The two talked of adventures and the places they had seen as the trekked the country for signs of life.
Hiccup hadn't seen another person since the Eradication. He had assumed he was the last person alive, although he didn't' want to accept it. Jack told Hiccup about the camp in the mountains, with plenty of survivors. When the brunette asked if Jack could take him there too, Jack accepted.
"Do you live here?" Hiccup asked, subtly changing the course of the conversation. "No, although I would call it my second home. It is important to me after all," Jack said, grabbing another of his favourite hoodie. The cold was creeping in, but Hiccup didn't seem too fussed by the drop in temperature. "No, I live all over, hunting, pillaging and killing the Rift where I can," Jack continued, with the least amount of emotion in his words. He'd accepted his life, no matter how shit it was. He had planned to be a teacher when he was seven, but the End of the World had changed his life plan.
So he had changed it.
Fight to survive. Survive to fight.
Hiccup's eyes darkened, but he made no comment.
"So where did you live before all this?" he asked.
"Outside of town," Jack said simply, realising just how much he had missed human contact. Even just talking.
Talking with Hiccup was surprisingly peaceful, even though he was talking about a subject he usually avoided. "In a house with my mother and sister."
"And are they at camp?"
"No they're dead."
Jack surprised himself at how harsh the words sounded, but at the same time, he didn't feel too upset as he spoke. Hiccup hesitated, his drink temporarily forgotten. He looked up to Jack, fixing him with his emerald eyes, staring into the icy blue ones as if trying to see deep inside his mind. "I lost my entire village," he said. "No one survived." There was sadness in his voice. Jack nodded.
They weren't blessing each other with useless 'I'm sorry,' or irritating sympathy. They were simply relating, and sharing the same pain.
"My town was taken by the Rift," Jack said. He didn't know if it was true. It was just a thought, based on the missing blood and bodies that hadn't decorated the town when he came out of hiding. "Maybe some of the survivors are from your village–"
"No," Hiccup interrupted. "They're all dead. No one survived." Quietly, he placed the bottle on the floor, his eyes shadowed in dark emotion.
"And what of the people in the mountains," he said, changing the subject once more. "They're survivors we found," Jack answered, rubbing his arms from the chill of the room. Or was it the atmosphere that had grown cold. "Some found their own way to camp. The others were prisoners we rescued from the Rift, or found hiding from them." Hiccup nodded. It was as if earlier had never happened.
"North was the one who found it for us," Jack said, smiling as he began to reminisce. "He used to work in the army, so he knew where the abandoned base was. Aster and Tooth were looking for him and found me. We started travelling to find others and soon we had several survivors living there." Hiccup nodded, as if waiting for the boy to continue.
"There's Sandy. He teaches the others medicine. I think he was a Doctor before the Eradication. I never really asked. We sort of didn't speak about our lives before the End of the World. I guess it's easier that way," the boy said, not really aware that he was beginning to ramble. Hiccup didn't seem to mind that much. He had the occasionally thoughtful look on his face, and pain, but it was mainly hidden by a curious smile.
Jack told Hiccup all about camp.
And Hiccup told Jack tales of surviving on his own. It wasn't until sunrise did Jack realise that they spent the entire night talking. "Shit," he grumbled, staring at his pile of duvets. He had been planning to sleep for a while so that he could head straight to the camp…
"It's morning already?" Hiccup asked, moving to the window. He stared out at the sunrise, his face lit by the light or the rising sun. "We missed the opportunity to hunt."
"Hunt?" Jack had come to stand beside the boy, looking out on the familiar sight of the street aglow with the light. It still looked like the town was burning. A thought that didn't settle well with the white-haired teen.
"Yes. My brothers and I hunt at sunrise. There are still creatures awake then, and it gives us plenty of light to see, as well as darkness to cover us." Jack nodded silently, as if what the boy was saying made sense to him. "Brothers?"
"Toothless and Cloudjumper." When Jack looked none-the-wiser, Hiccup went on to explain about the wolves. They were his brothers, and best friends. Originally Toothless, along with his pack, used to terrorise Hiccup's village, even in this day and age. But once the Eradication started, the pair had escaped together coincidentally. It was Toothless who saved Hiccup. Since then on, they looked out for each other. When they found Cloudjumper, he joined them too. The three of them had survived for the past several years by running and hunting. Avoiding the rift where possible and trying to survive.
"I'll go now," Hiccup said, pushing open the window. "Go where?" Jack asked, unconsciously grabbing Hiccup's shoulder. He didn't want the boy to go. Company, after so many years of silence. He didn't want it all to be ripped away from him so easily.
Hiccup turned back, smiling. "
Chapter One Finished. I hope you enjoyed it.