Chapter 2
As the Abaters had begun to reclaim Earth again, even less fortress cities existed. In fact, only thirteen cities were alive and 'safe', each was far from each other and often had to rely on themselves to survive. To make matters even worse, global warming had sped up triple fold, as most of the ice caps were completely gone, thanks to the enemy's plans. The United Kingdom, which just months ago was suffering from minor flooding in London and the coastal regions on its borders, was now nowhere to be found on the map. It had been completely engulfed by water, just as the great empire of Atlantis had in ancient myth. Along with the UK, New York City, most of California, the Islands of the Caribbean, much of Australia, the islands of the Pacific, Japan, and Madagascar had been lost to flooding, with much flooding the other coastal regions. Some of the oceans climbed so far into the States that Colorado actually had a sea of its own. To pile onto this, poverty was common in the world, as the soldiers were slowly loosing hope of winning, thanks to the disappearance of the lone Spartan and the supposed deaths in battle of most of the Evangelions. Thankfully civilians never heard of the Spartan and Eva projects, for if they had, their lack of faith would be much worse off. Truth is, however, that the Committee had began to fear the Evas and their questions, backed up by powerful scientists such as Dr. Winchester, and even more powerful, and thus threatening powers like the slowly returning UN and even General Grievous, General Rykov and General 'Fortamee, so they saw it fit to take them out silently.
Armed with less than a dozen Evangelions, the world was beginning to bicker at who got what, and civil war began to appear over the horizon. All the while, the only man who could put an end to this, Bill Kingsley, did what he could to ensure that he and only those worthy could leave Earth to a safer planet, and postpone the inevitable. Now while those who did have hope prayed to God for help, many looked to the Committee as a beacon of hope as well, while many of those who served under it had grown wary of Kingsley's intentions.
New Paris, France
New Paris, constructed as a fortress city from Paris, the romantic getaway of the world. New Paris, on the other hand, was far from romantic. Driven by machines due to the lack of human workers able to run everything, New Paris, though still retaining much of its cultural diversity, was slowly seeing the terror of crime as gangs arose from the cities darkest corners. With everything from police officers to firemen enlisted to the war, there wasn't much to keep crime at bay and stop the children of the night to claim the city. There was a Committee base in New Paris, where everything from weapons research to tactical deployments was occurring. Everyone who worked there or even visited had to be escorted home via a trained soldier, to prevent further crimes. The last thing that needed to happen was to have one of the world's leading scientists be mugged and shot in a dark ally. Many admitted this was a good idea from Kingsley.
As the sun began to set beyond the sky blue force field surrounding the city, a young woman found it necessary to go home to her father's apartment. Escorted by an extraterrestrial species known as an Elite, young Abigail Jenkins looked down as she ignored the puddles of dirty water she stepped into. She knew the Elite that was escorting her; he was a spec ops officer, and the spec ops commander's right-hand man. His name was Zuri 'Zukamee, a mild-mannered young Elite whose black armored shimmered as they both passed streets lights dull from age. Wielding an assault rifle, 'Zukamee glanced down every alleyway they passed by, to see if any hooligans were causing any trouble. Then he would look over to a historical building, probably two or three hundred years old, perverted with graffiti marking the biggest gang's territory in the city. He sighed as he looked down.
"What they do here is unacceptable." He murmured. Abigail looked up, her lively green eyes looking at the Elite, as he was now leading her. She knew what he was talking about, but didn't reply. Abigail had been an emotional wreck these past few weeks, ever since the Master Chief went MIA. Many lost their hope at that, and those closest to him were hurt the most. Now she had a phobia of going anywhere alone, ever since the week before she was mugged and nearly raped by a band of gang members before 'Zukamee intervened. That's what really started the friendship between the two. Sure, they had spoken before that, but now they could relate a lot easier. 'Zukamee had lost someone he loved, Ray, and Abigail lost someone she loved, Sven.
Walking up the rusty steps up to her apartment, the spec ops Elite slowed down and stayed behind the young woman; make sure no one would sneak up behind her on the stairs. Together they approached near the end of the hallway, where Abigail was living with her father, Bartholomew Jenkins. When they arrived from Tokyo-03 to New Paris, Abigail and her mother Victoria Myer had found out Bartholomew had followed them, and offered to let Abigail live with him. Not wanting to be a burden on her mother, who already had another child and husband, Abigail accepted the offer. This only made her go from being calm and optimistic to terrified and jumpy. Her father was never home, and the fact was, the only reason why he bought the apartment was for Abigail. With so many things that were going on; the fear of Abaters attacking, gangs breaking in, being shot, being raped, and just the feeling of hopelessness, Abigail nearly cried herself to sleep every night.
"Here we are." 'Zukamee announced as he watched Abigail bring out a key from her purse and open the door. Not wanting to go home alone and with the sound of gun shots and loud rap music to be with her all night, the young woman looked to the Elite, her eyes wide and almost scared.
"Would…would you like to come in?" She asked. 'Zukamee shook his head and began to walk away. "Please?" She persisted. Suddenly the Elite stopped, sensing the desperation in her voice. "I can make you something to eat…or…or maybe some tea?" 'Zukamee sighed again as he turned to her, looking at the once proud and gleeful Abigail Jenkins be nothing but a desperate young woman ready to risk anything to not go another night of tears. Slowly he nodded.
"Sure Ms. Jenkins…"
Abigail set the teacup and plate of buttered toast down before the Elite, who nodded his thanks to her. She only had tea and sat down with that, taking a shaky sip from it. The apartment was a wreck, the walls and ceiling were brown with age and water stains covered them, the backroom door was always closed because of the blood-stained furniture and walls the previous owner forgot to clean up, and the apartment was almost always hot.
"How do you like it?" Abigail asked. 'Zukamee took a sip from the tea, and nodded again. He smiled, just to let Abigail feel better about it.
"It's very good." He said. He looked at her once lively green eyes, as they looked from his to the table. 'Zukamee could easily feel the nerve-wracking feeling she was having, and with the feeling of loneliness and hopelessness, he could see this girl was simply terrified, terrified of anything and everything around her. "Abigail, I don't think I ever told you, but I'm sorry for what happened to the Master Chief…" He sighed and shook his head. "It devastated everyone we know, you know that." He looked down at her hand, watching as it slowly curled up, to form a weak and pained fist.
"And I'm sorry…" She whispered. 'Zukamee's head raised slightly, confused. Her eyes looked back on him. "About Ray." Suddenly the gnawing feeling returned to the Elite as he supported his head on his hand. "These past few weeks have hurt us all…" Abigail added, her voice forewarning the upcoming tears that would be released. As she began to sob, and covered her mouth with her hand, with her sickness still appearing every now and then, she murmured her apologies and ran to the restroom. Sighing again, 'Zukamee stood up and retrieved his assault rifle from leaning up against the wall. As his boots carried him toward the door, he paused, and looked to the restroom, hearing Abigail's sickness through the walls. Slowly and hesitantly he approached the door, waiting for a long silence until he would knock. "Yes…?" Came an ill voice from the other side.
"Are you going to be okay?" 'Zukamee asked. A long silence passed, and just before the Elite was going to turn around and walk away, the door opened. Before 'Zukamee could say anything Abigail wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as she continued to weep into his chest.
"I'm sorry I brought it up. Forgive me." She sobbed.
"No, no, it's okay, I should just…" The Elite began.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…" Abigail said softly as she slowly released 'Zukamee, took a step back, and wiped her tears away. She clasped her hands together in front of her and looked down. "I'm sorry I did that." 'Zukamee's eyes narrowed.
"Stop being sorry." He snapped. Abigail shot her near frightened gaze upon him. "It wasn't your fault, understand? It wasn't your fault Sven died…it's not your fault that only the dumbest humans are leading what's left of your civilization to rubble, it's not your fault that corruption has taken place, nor that the Abaters are winning…" He took deep breaths as his piercing gaze softened, so that his eyes looked concerned. "If you want to cry on my shoulder, do it. If you want to talk about it, do it." He looked at Abigail's frightened face and looked down in shame. "I apologize for my behavior." He turned and opened the door again, and just as he set a boot out of the door.
"'Zukamee…" Abigail asked. The Elite looked over his shoulder.
"Yes Abigail?" He asked back. Abigail hesitated, but took a step forward, leaning up against the restroom doorway.
"Do…do you think it'll get better." She asked softly, but just loud enough for 'Zukamee to hear. The Elite was about to reply, caught himself, then in a softer voice, said.
"I don't know Abigail." He looked forward, out toward the building across the street, also covered in graffiti. "Take care." The Elite said and closed the door.