Arkfall
By
Shenandoah
Rota lies in my bed burning with the pox fever. Small, red bumps cover her body from top to bottom, and her skin feels hot from the fever associated with the pox. Her clothes are wet from the sweat pouring off her thin frame. She's redder than usual, and I'm frightened every time her fever spikes. She tells me she feels weak, but doesn't want anything to eat. I give her soup, but it sits by her bed-untouched. My hovel is a wreck since she caught the pox, and she complains about not doing her part around the house to keep it clean. She's sick. I tell her she's sick; and when she gets better, she'll continue to do her part in the family. I place my hands on her smooth forehead, and she's warmer now than in the past two days. She hates that I baby her, but it's her, my love, my better half. It's my job to baby her. The meds are scarce. I have only a few more fever reducing, oblong white tablets left, and we both know it won't be enough to keep her fever at bay. Gingerly grabbing the empty bottle, she laughs. It's a laugh of fear more than anything else. Without the pills, she knows her fever will spike uncontrollably. It's a chance that I won't take. Never! She shakes from the chills. I pull off her wet clothes, and she lies completely nude on my bed, shivering. Her wet clothes smell musty because she hasn't bathe since the fever started. I toss them to the ground, and they make a clapping sound because of the dampness. I give her the last two tablets with a glass of cool water, pull off my clothes, and climb in the bed with her. She's hot all over like a portable furnace. My body is keeping her warm the best it can, but she still shakes uncontrollably. I feel helpless that I can't do anything to stop her temperature from spiking. She cries a little because of the headache associated with the fever, and I try to comfort her by gently wiping the sweat off her face. She gives me a half smile to let me know she's okay, but I don't believe her. She tries to make me think everything's okay, but it's not okay. I'm concerned.
We celebrate New Years a few days earlier, and she comes in contact with a human child suffering from the chickenpox. What kind of parents bring their children into a crowded area with a contagious disease? Is it on purpose? I don't know, but he grabs Rota's right hand before she notices he's covered with the pox. I see the look in her eyes, and I immediately know something is wrong. Pulling away from the boy's grip, she heads home in order to wash her hands, but it doesn't help. Without speaking to me, she's gone from my sight, and Rory and I search the grounds for her. I have Rory on my shoulders watching the event, and didn't realize she absconded so quickly. She usually tells me when she's tired, leaving, or whatever, but she didn't say anything. I should have known something was wrong when she pulled away from the boy so quickly, but I had Rory on my shoulders watching the festivities. Unfortunately, she knows almost immediately that she is coming down with something deadly to the Irathient people, and then she passes out on the floor. Rory and I discover her in the middle of my hovel covered in sweat, and the Doc diagnoses her with the pox. It's a rough day for us all, but the Doc ensures us she'll pull through without any problems, but I'm suspicious. Indogenes are so expressionless that I can't read her narrow face. It's like playing in a championship poker match with Indogenes because I can't read their expressionless faces; and if something is really wrong with Rota, I won't know until it's too late. Since that day, she lies in the bed-only getting up to take bathroom breaks. It's January 5, 2030, and her illness scares me. Rory attends school, and she's now twelve years old, and in the seventh grade. She's a quiet child most of the time, but desires to learn everything about the war as possible, and she thrives off of learning new things everyday. She's persistent about owning guns, the same guns used by the Volge. The Charge Weapons piques her interest because she heard some Castithan talking about them. So, she comes home almost everyday, and ask if I've ever handled one. I smile, and simply say, "It's of no concern." Rota abhors violence like most people in the commune, and doesn't want any talk of weapons in the house. It's not allowed to have guns in the commune, an offense punishable by banishment. She wants to stay home to help me care for Rota, but we think it's best for her to go to school. Frustrated, she storms out of my hovel, and leaves for school. I don't chase her this time because Rota doesn't want me babying the child when she acts like a tyrant.
Her fever subsides a bit, and she lies in a puddle of sweat. She kisses me, and then tells me it's too warm for her, so I get up. I run my fingers through her soggy, red hair, and she smiles at me. It's a half smile that almost looks forced, but she's trying to make me believe everything is okay. It's an Irathient thing. She doesn't want me worrying about her, but it's all I can do. I'm not a doctor with a slew of remedies at my disposal. All I have is my support, and sometimes that doesn't seem like enough to do anything. There's a gallon jug of ice water by the bed, and I pour her a glass of it. She drinks until she empties the glass, and then I fill it one more time. She grips the glass with both hands, and takes one more gulp of water.
"You have to stay hydrated, baby," I say with a smile. "Drink it slowly."
I put my clothes back on my body, and give Rota a kiss on the forehead. She knows I'm off to see Doc Twyll, and try to get more fever reducing medicines. My hovel is very small, but it's bigger than many of the tents that most of the residents have. It's sturdy like a tank because it's one of those shipping containers made of steel. It's wind resistant up to two hundred mile per hour winds; and that's a good thing. Rory's bed sits against the far wall while Rota and I share a full sized bed. We don't have much, but we have each other, and that's very important to me. Rota slaves over us-even though we tell her not too-all the time. She goes out of her way to keep the house clean; but since her illness, everything is in disarray. Cleanliness is imbedded into her genetics or something because uncleanliness causes her dismay. The small kitchen has a nice refrigerator, running water, and a cooking stove. It's just enough to make the shipping container hovel livable. A little ways down the hill are several blue, somewhat warm porta-johns. When we're going to use them, we say, "I'm feeling blue." It's not a sophisticated code, but it's a family thing that Rory evented.
Rota sits up against the wall, and drinks the rest of her water in a slow, very methodical manner. I pick the cold chicken soup off the floor, and toss it into the microwave. It's reheated, and I sit it next to the bed. The hot soup generates a lot of steam, and Rota sniffs the bowl, and drinks a little. "It's still good," she says with a smile. She places the bowl back on the nightstand, and wipes her mouth with her sleeve. She hates me waiting on her like I do because she's normally the one taking care of Rory and I. I want to marry her, but she turns me down everytime I suggest it. Sometimes she changes the subject in a crafty manner, as not to turn me down directly. My love for her isn't unrequited on any level. She loves me, and I know that without any doubt in my mind. She says we have all the amenities of a marriage with none of the headaches. I don't know exactly how I feel about our living arrangements, but I feel marriage is important. When she's better, I will continue to persuade her to becoming my wife.
"Are you feeling blue?" I ask in a soft voice. I'm pushing her hair over her ears.
She smiles. "No, sweety."
It's cold. Snow covers the mountains, and the air temperature is around twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit in the valley. I wear a black stocking cap on my head, but my face is bare. I have on a heavy coat that deflects the wind with some black, furry gloves. It's approximately two o'clock in the afternoon, and I expect Rory home by four o'clock. Doc Twyll's office is nothing more than another shipping container turned into an office. The outside of her office is red with white letters written across the top that read, "Connex." She's an Indogene with a vast amount of resources, but I don't know if she keeps medicine on hand for chickenpox. The Doc is a tall woman, a woman approximately six foot two inches tall with a scar on the upper portion of her throat. Soldiers try to kill her during the start of the Pale War, but she escapes into the wilderness. She tries to keep the meds stocked, but the littlest of things keeps her guy from coming. Many people in town are discussing the Yosemite Trials, and angry that Joshua Nolan won't go to jail. We want justice so badly that many of the people simply lose faith in the system when the military tribunal finds him not guilty. Soldiers get away with murder so easily, when they bring up things like, "It's just war." They kill innocent people, and call it collateral damage, but nobody pays for the crimes. I know this attitude the best because I lived it.
Doc Twyll's office sits atop the hill with several other small businesses. Everybody in town owes the Doc something for her services, but I pay my bills immediately. I owe no person any money, and I make it a point to keep it that way. When I ascend up the hill, I notice all the smoke emanating from the small tents, and they look extremely cozy. Some of the residents have connected their tents with other people's tents, and it forms a bigger tent. After the soldiers ransacks the community last year, we make it appoint to go over evacuation drills in order to remove the residents from harm's way as soon as possible.
The war drains the resources needed to take care of the ordinary folks, and I often wonder if we'll survive another five years of this nonsense. I don't know anybody not affected directly by the war, and it saddens me. Rory loses her parents; Rota loses her place of employment; the town loses over two hundred residents. War is tragedy. When my Momma finds out about my relationship with Rota, she disowns me immediately. She sends a letter to me that simply reads, "You aren't my son." I don't show it to Rota because I do not know how she'll take it, so I burn it. Life isn't easy anywhere in this war weary world, and many people frown upon interspecies, sexual relationships, but not the people in the commune. It may be nothing more than a personality thing that brings us together-even though the rest of the world-humans and Votans-frowns upon our integrated lives. My Momma teaches me to hate the Votans from as far back as I can remember; and for a moment out of my tumultuous life, I did.
When I stumble into the Doc's office, she sits at her desk, and looks up at me with a scowl on her rubbery looking face. I don't know why she's in a suspicious looking mood, but it intrigues me. Tapping on her desk, she has a look of disappointment on her scrawny face that makes me believe something biting is on her mind. She knows about Rota's persistent fever, and tells me that she doesn't have anymore fever reducing medicines left, and she needs me to take my roller to get some more in Mariposa. She tells me that the guy will be there until seven o'clock tonight, and the drive is only about sixty minutes. But due to the weather conditions, the guy that usually brings the meds to town can't. She hands me the exact address where to pick up the meds, and then I head back down the hill to retrieve my roller. It's the same roller that I took from the military, but I removed the tracking system in the machine.
Many of the smaller towns don't have the funds needed to support a police department, and they depend on the Earth Republic for assistance. Rumors spread throughout the fractured communities about the callousness of the Earth Republic. They act as judge and jury over every infraction of the law, and can be vicious in carrying out punishments. Unfortunately, with the brutality of the war, many of the soldiers aren't very trustworthy either. They're hypocrites. An element of the Earth Republic delves into the black market as a way of life, and they recruit unsuspecting soldiers to do their bidding. The majority of soldiers don't read all the laws when they enter into the service, but learn the trade after realizing they don't make enough money from the Earth Republic to take care of a family. Everyday, the government charges another soldier with selling drugs and food on the black market for a profit. Under the authority of Earth Republic, soldiers convicted of selling drugs receive the death penalty, and they do carry it out on the spot. It's cruel and unusual on every level imaginable.
When I tell Rota that I need to travel to Mariposa for the drugs, she's apprehensive about my journey. Several people have gone missing on the trails between Yosemite Valley and Mariposa, and it's a scary route nonetheless. She sits up in the bed with nothing but panties and a bra making a feeble attempt at trying not to look sick. The red bumps cover her face, arms, and chest, and she looks like some creature with red dots all over her. Her wide nasal bridge turns redder every time I see her, and some of the bumps have spread far into her hairline. She knows I'll do whatever it takes to make her well. I'm going to Mariposa regardless of her objections because if I don't do everything in my power to keep her well, I'll never be able to rest. Her hair is wild and all over the place, but she tries to straighten it out with her fingers. It's tangled. She's frustrated, but tries to smile to hide her discomfort with her ratty hair. I sit on the edge of the bed next to her, and grab the calamine lotion off the small dresser. It's a black market item that I purchased off one of the Cathistan businessmen wandering through the town. She's supposed to keep the stuff on her skin, but she forgets. I dab a bit of the lotion on her face, and gently massage it into her skin. She's looking at me with a caring look, but keeps a straight face. I'm becoming aroused.
"A storm is moving in soon," She says. She watches me rub the lotion on her legs as she leans against the headboard of my bed. Her firm legs look athletic like an athlete, and she doesn't have to do much to keep them toned . My hands glide up and down her legs, and she closes them when they approach her crotch. "You're insatiable, Derrick." She giggles. "I'm sick. Remember?" She's acting sheepishly, but she's right. I need to stop before she unleashes that Irathient spirit on me, and Rory catches us getting wild on the bed.
Another weather system will move into the area within the next few hours, and she worries I will get caught in it. I place the lotion on the ground, and kiss her on the lips. She kisses me back, and then ask me not to go. She puts her hands on either side of my face, and then says, "I'm not worth this much trouble."
"You're worth all the trouble in the world to me," I reply with a smile. We hug each other, and embrace passionately.
Rory enters through the front door, tosses her book bag on her bed, and then asks, "Are y'all gonna do it?"
"No," I say in an acerbic tone. "You take care of Rota, okay?"
"Where're you going?" She asks.
"Mariposa. Doc is out of meds, and she asked me to pick them up," I say.
"Can I come?" She asks.
"No. I need you here."
Since the beginning of the war, the states haven't had the monies in order to fix the infrastructure. Several of the bridges throughout the state are brittle and dangerous. And in stormy weather, the roads aren't passable in some locations. It doesn't matter because I have to travel to Mariposa to get what Rota needs, and that's the end of the conversation. I give her one more hug, and then I hug Rory too.
"You're gonna need me," Rory says in a bitter tone. "Just you wait and see, Derrick Shooty."
"Rory, that's no way to talk to your father," Rota says.
Chapter 2
The roller sits under a tarp on the side of my hovel, and I warm it up everyday in order to ensure the battery stays charged. It runs off of low grade diesel fuel, and it gets good gas mileage. The cold weather taps the power in many of the battery operated machines, but the rollers are equipped with the top of the line battery cells. I pull off the tarp, and the black roller looks almost brand new since I painted it over in the early part of the summer. ECF probably reports the machine stolen after I took it as the prize in the skirmish with some of the e-rep soldiers. I finds a po-tech pistol stuffed into the passenger seat, and I keep it locked in an old ammo box in the center console. As long as Rota doesn't see it, I won't have any problems. She hates all types of weapons that may be used in acts of violence against another person, and she truly hates guns.
Rory storms out of the house, and marches over to the outhouse without saying a word. I clean the darn thing at least once every two days. In the future, I hope that we can have a sewage system put in place, but it's hard to say with the lingering war. Rory's upset that I won't allow her to come on the trip with me, but I can't be worrying about her if things go badly. I worry about Rota and Rory everyday, and that's why I do whatever I have to do to keep them safe. Taking my daughter on a trek with the possibility of a dangerous storm moving into the area is irresponsible. She's twelve-years-old, and sometimes have problems understanding that we say no in order to protect her.
Once I give the vehicle a quick once over to ensure the tires are properly inflated, the fluids are at the right levels, and I have two containers full of gas on either side of the vehicle, I run into the house, and give Rota one last kiss. I try to wait for Rory to come out of the outhouse, but she takes too long. I hop in the roller, drive past the outhouse, and feel a little hurt that she would purposely avoid me. It's okay. She's a child, and children have to play their games.
When I drive into the town of Mariposa, it's dark and gloomy, and cold. I have the heat turned on high, and it feels good as it bounces off my face. Suddenly, I see something explode in the air, and tons of debris falls out of the sky, and beats up against the planet. I don't know what's happening, but something extraordinary happened in space. I try to find some kind of radio station with information on what I'm seeing, but I don't hear anything. The ground shakes. I'm still standing outside my conveyance when I see something moving in the backseat. It's an animal or something, and I pull out my po-tech gun, and make an attempt to grab the animal when Rory screams, "Dad! It's me."
Frustrated, I just look at her shaking my head. I'm upset, but I try not to let it show. She's in shock at the debris falling out of the sky, and we quickly come to the conclusion that at least one of the Votan's ships exploded above the planet. The ground shakes repeatedly. "Get in the car," I say in frustration. "Your momma is at home. Alone."
"Sorry, sir!"
I look at her for a moment, and then take off down the street. A huge hunk of debris falls on the side of the road barely missing the vehicle. My heart races, and I fear we may not make it to Mariposa. A streak of lightning flashes across the dark sky, and hits a tree near my position. It cuts the thing into two pieces. I bring the roller to a halt, and Rory looks out the window at the down tree. She grimaces. Once we arrive to the town, the warning sirens are blaring louder than anything I ever heard in my life. The ground rumbles beneath my roller, and then I see lava spewing out one of the mountain tops to my north. It looks like an active volcano, and then it collapses in front of my very eyes. I don't know what to make of an entire mountain crumbling in front of my eyes, and all I want to do is make it out of Mariposa alive. We approach a small pharmacy with a guy standing on the front steps looking at the chaos. His black rimmed glasses barely fits on his tiny face, but he seems like a good fellow. His hair is short like the military wears, and he puffs on a cigarette. His hands tremble as he looks at the collapsing mountain, and I understand his fears. He's looking up at the lava pouring off the adjacent mountain, but it doesn't collaspe like its sister. The lava streams down the mountain side, and heads for the small town.
"You're from Yosemite?" He asks.
"Yes," I say, "We're here for the meds." I hands him a piece of paper signed by the doc, and he hands me a suitcase full of meds. It's a brown suitcase made out of some kind of wood fiber. It's heavy too. I place it in back of my conveyance, and the guy tells me that it isn't safe to be on the road. He says the radio is talking about the arks exploding in space, and some terraforming equipment slamming against the Earth. He warns me to get underground as soon as possible because the world is about to change, forever. I laugh because he sounds like a crazy man. I hop in my roller and Rory's in the passenger seat, and suddenly the small store is engulfed by a mountain of lava. It seems crazy to me, but the entire town disappears in my rearview mirror, but I keep speeding down the road.
"Don't look back," I say to Rory.
The terrain changes in front of my eyes, and the road develops more and more hills on it. I bring the vehicle to a sudden stop when I see an oddly shaped tree grow out of the ground in front of my vehicle.
"What's happening?" Rory ask with a look of fear on her face.
"I don't know, darling," I say. More and more debris falls to the ground in front of our eyes, and an entire ship careens through the sky, and slams into the field next to my vehicle. Curious, I drive the vehicle over to the downed spaceship in order to get a better look.
"Stay here," I say to Rory.
"What are you doing?" She asks.
"Gotta see if anybody survived," I say.
It's a huge ship, a ship that is approximately fifty yards in length. The impact cracks the ship in half, and I'm able to squeeze through a sliver into the corridor of the ship. It glows on the inside of the massive machine, and many of its residents are inside cocoon like pods. I tear one of the pods open, and the Irathient who lies on the inside of the pod looks like a twelve-year-old kid. He's young with long, red braided hair, and markings on his face. He's alive. When he opens his eyes, he immediately panics, but doesn't have the strength to stand. The years in cryostasis has left him without the immediate use of his legs. He falls forward, and I catch him. He almost seems helpless to stand to his feet, but I understand completely. The gravity on the ship is much different than the gravity on Earth. I lie him on the floor, and he scoots underneath a counter-keeping a watchful eye on me the entire time.
I walk over to several other pods in order to see if any of the other residents survived, and most of them didn't. Their containers are full of blood, and I hope that Rory doesn't walk into the ship to see what I see. I find another Irathient-a female-alive and well. She lies in her pod looking straight ahead, and struggling to stand to her feet. I pick her up out of the pod, and she screams when she sees the other dead Irathients. She screaming for her momma and father who are deceased. It's a painful scene. I carry her out of the pod, place her in my roller, and then do the same with the boy.
"Where are you going to take them? Rory asks. She looks at the kids in the backseat.
"To the Doc," I say. I look back at the young ones in the backseat, and they have a look of fear on their faces. In their own tongue, I tell them not to worry. Everything will be okay.
Chapter 3
The Arkfall continues throughout my travels back to Yosemite Valley, but for some reason, the seriousness of the situation isn't registering like it should. Looking back at the two Irathient kids in the back seat assures that something is amiss. Sparks of fire fly through the air, beating against the earth, and causing fires to erupt everywhere my eyes can see. The rumbling of the planet causes me queasiness, and I'm not sure about Rota's situation. I just traverse through the pitted roads the best that I can, and hope I don't put the roller into a cavity. The gravity of the arks crashing to the planet hasn't hit me yet. But when I enter Yosemite Valley, I don't recognize the place at all. The cozy tents that stood on the countryside have been obliterated. The fires erase everything to the north of the camp, and consume many of the tents. Fires are happening all over the area, and people are walking aimlessly through the streets, freezing. The beautiful snow capped mountains aren't beautiful anymore. In fact, they aren't there at all. I travel slowly to my home, and it appears that half of it is inside of some kind of cavern; it's completely surrounded by sediment. It looks like the ground tried to consume my hovel with Rota possibly inside of it. My heart palpitates out of control when I see the back half of my home stuck in the sediment, and the front half sticking out. I beg whatever God is left that Rota is okay.
I climb up the rock, leap onto the top of the shipping container, and make an attempt to open the front door. Ash from the fires flies through the air-causing me to cough uncontrollably. I smell the feces from the spilled porta johns, and it's rancid. Screaming Rota's name, I don't hear her voice or hear anything inside the container: no jumping, no moving, anything. It's silent. Scared, I fear to imagine the possibilities of what might be on the inside of my hovel. If Rota's dead, then I'd rather not see it; but at the same time, I need to see if she's okay. Rory stands on the side of the roller, and she's crying over the sight of the container sticking out of the rock, and I understand why. The Irathient kids are still in the conveyance, but they aren't saying anything. Suddenly, I see the door open, and Rota is standing below me. She screams my name a few times, and then I say, "Right here, baby." I feel nothing but joy in my heart; it's overwhelming.
I crawl inside my home, and all the furniture is in disarray: the beds are broken; the small tables are piled into the kitchen, the water isn't working. Rota is running a slight fever, but she looks a little better than she did earlier. I hug her with a tight grip, kiss her passionately, and tell her how much I love her. We sit on the floor for a moment, and I put my hands on either side of her face, and tell her that we found two kids on a crashed ship. She wants to see them so badly that she opens the door, climbs on top of the container, and makes her way over to the roller. I hear wailing in the distance, and small fires continue to pop up all over the commune. It's hell.
The Arkfall continues to light up the night sky, and everybody is scared. Not only did the landscape of the area change overnight, but the climate did too. The temperature rises to at least ninety degrees with a lot of humidity. I feel like we're going to burn up, but I'm not sure. We hear rumors of the broken ships hitting entire communities, and killing thousands of people. The area continues changing in front of our eyes, but we make due. Reports are coming in from around the world about massive shifts in the terrain, and one report says that the ancient city of Atlantis resurfaced.
After I give the Doc her meds, she gives Rota a bottle of pills in order to keep her fever down, and we pray that her pox passes. We ask the Doc to take a look at the children in order to make sure the crash didn't injure them. She looks at them closely with her tools, and the kids are too scared to move. Rota explains to them that all is okay, but they're frozen in place. Rota tells them to clear their minds, and focus on good things. The kids relax, and then the Doc finishes up. She tells us to feed them in order to get their strength up.
Rota explains to the kids that she is contagious with the pox, so she has to keep away from them. It's hot. I'm dripping with sweat, and sticky from the humidity. I park the roller, and we find a cozy place on the other side of the commune with the other destitute families. Rota tells me that the boy's name is Ion and the girl's name is Naria. Rota sits next to a tree that I don't recognize, and I sit beside her-thinking. Something is sticking me in the side when I sit down, and I have to adjust my pants. It's my gun. I'm unnerved about it because if Rota finds out about the gun, she'll be extremely upset. Irate. Rory is tired, and she lies at my feet. The two Irathient kids (Ion and Naria) stay focused on the sky, and find it hard to relax. They're sitting directly in front of us without saying a word.
Rota falls asleep beside me after sitting for only a few minutes, and I feel her forehead. She's not running a fever at all, and I'm relieved about that. I know Rota lost her brother at the beginning of the Pale Wars to the pox, and it devastated her. It's probably a little after midnight, and the earth continues to rumble, but now the shakes are commonplace. The terrain shifts a little bit in the last few hours, but that's about it. Wolves are running around outside of the commune because I can hear their howls. It means something is most likely dead or dying out there. The two Irathient kids lie on the grass next to each other, and fall asleep. The majority of people in the commune have fallen asleep, and I gently lie my head against the tree in order to join them.
Suddenly, I hear people screaming; and when I open my eyes, I see some kind of large creature tearing a Castithan man apart. It's a horrible sight, and blood flies everywhere. The creature looks like some kind of large lobster, and it clips the man in two halfs. Ion hops to his feet in a fighting stance, but he has no weapon. When I see that, I pull out my po-tech pistol, instinctively, and aim it at the beast. Rota looks at the gun, and snarls. She jumps up to her feet, and tells the kids to follow her. Ion is reluctant to move. The giant creature shreds the man's inners, and then tries to attack the guy's family. I charge the animal, and fire several rounds into the beast at the same time. The lead slices through the monster's head, and it dies in front of me. I observe the animal for a second, and it has a hard protective shell like a turtle, but it's not a turtle at all. It looks like a giant beetle, but I'm not sure what it is. It's about the size of a compact car, and it smells like stahko. When I turn to walk away from my kill, I see the looks on the people's faces. I'm not a hero to these people because of the views about guns. They look at my po-tech pistol as a weapon of war, and weapons of war aren't allow in the community.
Sitting on the other side of the commune, Rota gives me that stilted look, a disconcerting look. I sit next to her, and make an attempt to rub her left shoulder, but she pulls away. It's one of those situations where I have to ask what I did, but I know what I did, but I feel that she should see only the good in what I did. Parts of me desire to let her be angry without engaging in any conversation at all, and other parts feel the need to explain my actions. I dream about a world where everybody can live free without weapons of war, but that's the dream. The reality of this world is weapons make the peace. Ion stands in the middle of the commune pointing his finger like a pistol, and making pow noises.
"What's wrong?" I ask in a naive voice. Pretending like I don't understand her bitterness, I try to act ignorant about my po-tech pistol.
She shrugs, and points frustratingly at Ion playing with Naira and Rory. He's pretending to shoot them, and they're falling to the ground in playful agony. "You have a gun," she says in an acerbic voice. She looks at me with her green eyes, and she's frustrated. She folds her arms, and looks me directly in the face.
"It was in the vehicle," I say softly.
"You cleaned that machine out plenty of times," she says in a nasty tone, "You knew about it all this time? It's prohibited, Derrick."
"I know," I say.
"They'll ask for you to leave the commune," she says in a soft voice. "I love this commune."
"What are you saying exactly?" I ask. I feel angry and hurt by her words, and I never thought it would come to this kind of choice.
"I love this commune, Derrick. But if you go, I go with you," she says, "We're family."
Chapter 4
The commune excommunicates me the next day without question-even in the midst of all the chaos. Twelve elders sit in front of me with their haughty looks, and pass judgement on my actions. It angers me that none of them recognizes the good of having a weapon, and knowing exactly how to use it. I know they abhor weapons, but what am I to say. The last thing I want to do is fire a gun, but I'd fire a million of them to save Rota and Rory. It's how I feel about things. With Rota by my side, I refuse to fight the exile or act like a hellion over the situation. The board seems a bit chuffed that I didn't bring up how I saved a man's family from a dangerous creature with the gun. Rota and I leave the community with Rory and the two Irathient kids. We pack up as much stuff as we can, and tie it to the top of the roller. We have everything fastened down with bungee cords, and the Irathient children work diligently with us. Rota cries as we drive out the commune, and I hold her hand for a moment. I feel badly at the damage I've done, but I probably wouldn't have changed anything if I had a chance to do it again.
We drive east to Oklahoma City, but nothing looks like the Oklahoma I remember. The planet is terraformed into some kind of hybrid of itself, and Oklahoma is a mountainous region now. There are no plains anywhere. Everywhere I look, I see nothing but hills and valleys. The quakes cause millions of people to lose their homes and places of employment. The streets are broken apart, and people roam aimlessly up and down the hillside. I see a man carrying something that looks like a manikin, and then I realize it's a dead woman. We try to listen for any radio chatter, but we're not getting anything. Eventually, Rota tunes into a radio station that's reporting on the dead. They estimate the terraforming has killed nearly a billion people worldwide.
I see a new growth of odd looking trees that are alien to anything I've ever seen in my life. They're like tall mushrooms, and they must have popped up overnight. The top of the trees are a smooth, slick surface while the trunks are wooden. Did the trees grow overnight or are Earth's existing trees mutating because of the terraforming? I don't know. A convoy of Earth Military Coalition troops ride through the area, and I notice the face of one of the troops driving a military roller; it's Plywood Heller, a soldier who served under me when I served. He's much older now-nearly ten years older, and he looks rough. I hope that he didn't see me because I know we'd have issues.
The quakes destroy some of the biggest retails stores, and we come up on a site where tons of cars have fallen into a crater. I park the car next to what appears to be a Danner's Retail Store, but it's not standing. The big sign on the front of the business is lying off to the side of a broken street, and I see a stream of blood rolling down the hill from the destroyed establishment. Danners is a huge chain that goes from coast to coast that sells all kinds of camping gear, household supplies and so on. I want to rummage through the wreckage for some sleeping bags, and other items of importance. The smell of decaying flesh overtakes my senses, and I can barely stand it. When Rory smells it, she throws up on the side of the vehicle. Rota covers her nose, and pulls at my arm.
"Let's get out of here, Derrick," Rota says, "Nothing but death here."
Bans of people roam through the woods in order to escape the repercussions of the terraforming planet. The soldiers are convoying thousands of indigent souls out of the area to safety on the back of cattle trucks. The abrupt changing of the planet crumbles nearly every building within Oklahoma City. Every time the planet changes, it's like a devastating earthquake that affects thousands of people. The kids are restless, and Rota wants to find a field in order to set up some shelter. None of us have eaten more than a peanut butter sandwich all day, and we're starving. Eventually, I find a field on I-40 that's suitable for our needs. The roadway looks like it was hit with a massive explosive device, but it's probably a result of the terraforming. Rota places a blanket on the ground, and we sit quietly in the field for a moment. I notice Naira is lethargic, but it doesn't worry me. The sun drains everybody a little bit, and she isn't any different.
Rory makes everybody a peanut butter sandwich, and we sit in the middle of some high grass, and eat. I notice Rory making an attempt to talk to the other two kids, but they aren't saying anything at all. Naira lies on the ground, and closes her eyes. The long journey is draining her strength. I don't think the kids are purposely ignoring Rory, but they probably don't understand English well enough to communicate. Rota will fix that problem as soon as we find a place to settle. It's unusually warm for the Seventh of January, but it's okay. I'm on high alert because I start seeing bat like creatures flying overhead, and I don't know if they're a threat. They are larger than bats, but aren't bats at all-at least not pure. They may be some kind of hybrid of a bat and a bird, but I'm not sure. I eat my sandwich rather quickly, but the rest of my group eats much slower. Naira took a few bites of her sandwich, and goes back to sleep on the ground. I sit behind Rota and she sits between my legs, and I gently massage her back. She loves me massaging her back when she's eating. It's my way of showing her affection without being too provocative in front of the kids. Naira sits up, and finishes the rest of her sandwich, and then the kids roam around the area a bit.
Ion bends over for a minute, and then runs over to me. He shows me a nice folding knife with a wooden handle. It looks like somebody recently dropped it, but we don't see anybody else in the area. I pull a sharpening stone out of my pocket, and demonstrates to him how to sharpen the knife. And then Rota tells him it's a dangerous weapon, and he needs to be careful so he doesn't hurt anybody with it. He sits against a large rock, and sharpens the stone while the two girls play in the tall weeds.
The earth trembles a few times before another major earthquake causes us to leave the area. I feel the ground trembling more than a little, and I call the girls to come over to us so we can go. Naira is a fast runner, and she zooms over to us, and we stand by the roller waiting for Rory. Suddenly, the earth underneath us warps in front of our eyes, and now we're standing on a small hill, and Rory takes off for us after feeling the power of the earthquake. She's scared. We hop back in the roller, drive down I-40, and head towards Muskogee, Oklahoma, the town where I grew up. The road shakes uncontrollably, and we don't see any other vehicles on the roads for nearly six miles. We drive off of the crumbling main thoroughfare onto the grass, and traverse the roller over the hilly terrain. I'm leary of the possibility of hitting unforeseen potholes the terraforming caused, and many of the bridges are gone. After approximately six miles of driving, we see gaggles of folks traversing the countryside on foot. Many of them are scratched and bruised, and I think it's because of the tumultuous nature of the terraforming. It's not the people's fault that they look so raggedy, but the planet is hot. It's much hotter than usual, and it's early January.
The majority of buildings in Muskogee are gone, and I don't see any signs of human or Votan life. I try to find my old house, but nothing looks the same in my hometown. The terraforming wrecks the place, and nothing looks the same. The Earth is bent into hills and valleys, and pretty much nothing is left standing. Not even the animals move in the small town. It looks like a major tornado tore every building in the town to shreds, and mountains exist where none ever did. I fear the worse. I look around the area for a moment while Rota and the kids sit in the car. I don't recognize anything in the town without the street signs and buildings. Rota waves at me to return to the car, and I hurry over to my conveyance.
"It's gone. It's all gone," I say. I feel sick to my stomach. The terraforming vanquishes the roads, and we travel over grass, rocks, and shattered streets. The kids sleep in the back seat of the roller quietly, and Rota's color is normal. Her fever is completely gone, and she hasn't taken any more pills. She rubs the back of my neck, and it relaxes me. We traverse over a hill, and see an ark on the other side-broken. It's a prodigious ship that stretches the length of a football field, and I'm curious. The front half-torn and tattered-shows no life whatsoever, but the back half of the ship has a flickering, incandescent glow that captures my attention.
I drive up to the giant ship, and Rota begs me to be careful. With my po-tech pistol at my side, I flounder around with the ship's hatch. It's a struggle to open, but I open it when I turned the latch counter clockwise. The pods are full of freshly dead bodies that died on impact; and in the rear of the vessel, I see a stash of Charge Weapons. They are attached to the wall on a special rack specifically designed for the rifles. My heart beats faster in my chest because I know the power of those weapons. They not only kill its intended target, but removes the flesh clean off the bones. I'm nervous because the pods have deceased Indogenes in them, but the stash of weapons are used by the Volge. The Charge Guns are their weapons of choice; and in the height of this bloody Pale Wars, the Charge Weapons are hard to get. I grab several of the guns off the racks, sling them over my left shoulder, and make an attempt to walk back through the hatch. The guns are weighing me down, but I don't mind the punishing weight as long as I have the prize of owning so many high tech weapons. I'm lumbering through the ship with the weight of the weapons causing me excruciating pain. A noise comes from the walls, but I don't see anything. I'm cautious. The Indogene blood smells like copper, and one of them looks right at me. Stopping, I look at the creature for a moment to see if she moves, but nothing. She continues to stare at nothing, and then her left hand falls by her side. She's dead. She has to be dead. I hear a door slide open, and aim my po-tech weapon in the direction of the noise. The ship is sweltering, and the sweat rolls into my eyes. I see a monstrously huge creature standing menacingly across the floor from me with a scowl on its face. I can't swallow, and I feel a lump of pain in my chest. Black ooze comes from the cuts it has on it's body, and for a moment, I lose track of which weapon I want to shoot him with first. Gripping my po-tech gun, I try to ease through the hatch, but it's difficult. The weapons cause me to lose balance, and then it charges at me with all its speed, and I fire my po-tech pistol in rapid succession, and the creature falls to one knee. It shows his teeth because it has an angry growl, a menacing posture. That many rounds would have killed an ordinary Votanic soldier without question, but the Volge are a different breed-hard. Black ooze dribbles out of its head, but it makes an attempt to continue its charge. I fire one of the Charge Weapons at the monster, and it rips the flesh off its body. His left arm disintegrates in front of me, and it's reaching for the missing appendage, but can't find it. It falls to the ground face down-dead.
I toss the weapons in the very back of the vehicle, and I have one on my person when I'm driving. The roller speeds over the rough terrain, and I see a laser blast brush past the vehicle. Sweat is in my eyes, and it feels warmer now than ever before. When Rota looks back to see the creature firing at us, she yells, "The Volge." Placing her hand on the dashboard and clenching her mouth shut, I took the all-terrain roller over some of the roughest countryside since we started the journey. Rory is yelling from the backseat, but I can't understand what she's saying. All I want is to get away from the Volge before another laserblast does more than simply swish past my vehicle. After twenty miles, we get out of the roller, check the vehicle, and see a few burnt marks where the laser nearly missed us.
I hurry out of the roller with sweat pouring down my face. My heart's racing fast, and it feels like it's going to burst through my chest. Rota speeds walk around the vehicle with one of the Charge Weapons in her right hand. She looks peeved.
"What's this, Derrick?" She ask. Biting her bottom lip, her demeanor has completely changed. She's angry. I see the rage in her eyes, but I don't respond immediately. "I left the commune for this?" She holds up the Charge Weapon, tosses it on the ground, and walks away.
I pick up the weapon, place it back in the vehicle, and the kids look traumatize. Rota stands in the distance with her arms folded, and I'm trying to find the exact words to make her feel better. She gave up the commune for me, but I know now that being a pacifist is only a dream for me. Committing violent acts are a part of my character as oxygen is to my lungs. The touch of my hand on her right shoulder causes her to pull away from me, and I let her. I don't force the situation because she doesn't like to be man handled.
"I do whatever it takes, Rota. Whatever it takes," I say. It's probably the wrong words, but It's my words. She looks over at me with her big green eyes, and then I say, "Killing is the way of life in these badlands. It's not a pretty world, but it's our world."
She sighs. She looks down at the ground, back up at me, and then back at the ground. She says in a brittle voice, "You're stupid." Tears roll down her face, and she looks over at me. I want to hug her, but I know she has to get all of her anger out before she'll let me near her. "I'm stupid for loving you." Her voice breaks apart.
The sky opens up in front of us, and another ark careens toward the planet about two miles north of us. A stream of fire comes out of the back of the ship as it enters into the earth's atmosphere, and the kids are pointing at it. I'm a little afraid that it might hit us, but it flies over our heads. I hear a boom in the distance, and feel the eagerness to check it out rise inside of me. Grabbing Rota by the hand, we hop in the roller with the kids in the back, and head for the fallen ark.
It sits and burns in the distance, but we're the first scavengers on the scene. The humidity is thick in the air, and all of us are sweating profusely. I'm not sure what I want with the massive ship, but the parts have to be of some value to somebody. The ship causes a massive groove in the countryside where it skidded through the mud. The lights flicker. I see no signs of life coming from the wreck, and the billowing smoke makes it hard to scope it out from a distance. I inch my roller towards the ship, when a team of human soldiers make their way from the downed wreck. They're moving fast over the rough terrain, and Rota is begging for me to take off in the other direction.
The soldiers are from Earth Military Coalition, and they are some roughnecks with a lot of military assets at their command. I quickly back away from the wreck, and head over the hill to my previous observation point. I'm sure the soldiers saw me, but didn't think of me as important as the booty on the ship. The head guy on the team looks like an enlisted guy, but I'm not sure. He's Asian with a skinny frame, and carries a Charge Weapon on his hip. His subordinates remove the hatch to the vehicle. He stands behind them, and commands them to remove the hatch. When they blow off the door, a group of Volge dive out of the burning wreckage, and startles the soldiers. The creatures are humongous compared to the soldiers, and they move twice as fast too. They're hulking bodies and grotesque facial features make them look like monsters. The soldiers fire their weapons like mad men, but the Volge are organized and trained well in close quarters. Quickly, the other worlders move into an offensive posture, and over run the soldiers without any problems. It happens so quickly that I can't believe what I'm seeing. The soldiers didn't have a chance against the overwhelming force of the creatures, and the monsters continues to beat the bodies of the dead military men. The Volge's weapons are powerful, and tear holes in the soldiers' body armour without a problem. One of the Volge looks over at my roller, points, and then I hear him grunting loudly. Another soldiers comes up from behind him, and fires on me. The laser swooshes past my roller, and I grab one the Charge Weapons to return fire when Rota grabs my arm.
"Not with the kids in the car," she screams, "Get us out of here, Derrick."
I storm away from the observation point because I didn't want to put the kids in any unforeseen danger; however, I feel if anymore Volge soldiers land on the planet, we may lose Earth forever. The planet continues to rumble underneath my roller, and I worries the ground may split open, and swallow us. We're running low on fuel, and I don't think the roller has enough fuel to carry us another twenty miles. It sputters a bit. The vehicle slows down a great deal, and then it comes to a complete halt.
"What happened?" Rota asks.
"Gas. It's out of gas," I say, "The fuel cans are empty too."
We exit the roller, and I lean against it without any clue on my next move. The Irathient children are kicking the leaves around the roller, but I don't pay them much attention. Rota scowls, and seems a bit perturbed with me. It's okay. She sits in the passenger seat with the door open. She grabs my hand, and looks up at me for a minute. "We'll have to walk."
"Probably," I say with a grimace. The Irathient kids continue to rustle with the leaves for some reason, but I don't know why. "What are those kids doing?"
"Playing," Rota says with a smile. "Just kicking leaves."
Rory hugs me, and sits on a rock overlooking the valley. She's been extra quiet on the trek, and now we have to try to survive on foot. I smell musty from sitting in the driver's seat all day, and tired. The Irathient kids pull back a stack of leaves, and pick up some clear looking pellets off the ground.
"Stahko!"
"Ewwww!" Rory exclaims.
Rota looks over at the kids, and says, "Wait? That's fuel."
"Fuel?" I ask.
"Yeah. The creatures are a hybrid from one of our harmless creatures that produces fuel in its excrement. It's the same."
"You mean the creature that nearly killed us?" I ask.
"The one in the same," she says.
She runs over to the stahko, grabs a handful of it, and squeezes the juices into the fuel tank. It looks like a good idea, but I don't think it'll work. I grab a fist full of the stakho, and do the same. The Irathient kids are laughing at us and Rory is shaking her head in disgust, but they seem to understand what we're doing. The fuel is oily in texture, and has a strong, synthetic odor to it. It reminds me of diesel fuel.
I climb inside the vehicle, pump the gas, and make an attempt to start it. It struggles at first, but then it starts right up without a problem.
Chapter 5
We travel nearly one hundred more miles after we filled up the roller with the stahko, and we set up a small camp somewhere in Arkansas. The terraforming turns Arkansas into a place that I don't recognize. Everything is so green and spring-even though it's the middle of smell of spring makes me want to park the roller in Arkansas for good, and leave all my worries in Oklahoma. Daffodils blooming under the bright January sun seems almost magical, at least to Rota. We park the roller about one hundred feet away from the most magnificent waterfall I had ever seen, and I try to remember if Arkansas has waterfalls. Rota exits the vehicle, runs to the Daffodils, and gives them a deep whiff. She loves the yellow flowers more than any other flower in nature. She looks back at me with a hefty smile, and tells me how beautiful and surreal the area looks. She plucks a flower, puts it in her hair, and poses for me. Rory laughs.
Thousands of people roam the fields between Arkansas and Oklahoma according to the radio, but the government is too busy fighting the Pale Wars to help them. Food shortages are rampant, and the majority of the population doesn't know anything about hunting for wild game. We make every attempt to avoid large crowds of people because looting, murdering, and all kinds of heinous crimes are happening in cities like Tulsa. Everybody is scared. The sky opens up continually spewing garbage that hurls haphazardly towards the earth, and the debris has killed thousands. Rumors of cities collapsing under the weight of the terraforming planet scares everybody, but the waterfall is pleasant.
The radio reports that rogue groups from the Earth Republic are rapining the area for supplies; they're stealing everything they can get their hands on-even the women. It's a shameful day that not even the good guys can be trusted. Everybody is begging the Earth Republic to end this fruitless war, but they aren't listening. The soldiers make their way through Missouri, and head straight for Arkansas, and they've already destroyed several fledgling communities. The humanitarian crisis is like nothing the world has ever seen. Plagues, diseases, terraforming, mass killings, war, and death after death breaks the will of almost every human and Votan on the planet. Numerous people have been murdered at the hands of soldiers, and letters to the government have done very little to stop it. I hear rumors about the Earth Republic disbanding the Earth Military Coalition, and I understand the reasoning behind the move. We're living in a changing society, and humans and Votans are ready to share this planet, but the will to do good moves slowly.
Rota looks so calmly to me when she's bent over filling a steal bucket of water from the river. It flows voraciously, and the water looks like crystals as it beats against the rocks. She tastes a little, and looks back at me with a smile.
"It's even fresher than the water in the commune," she says. She gives me a playful scowl for a second because she knows what I'm thinking. She wags her left index finger at me, and then says, "You have shameful thoughts on your mind, Derrick. Maybe later, okay?" She smiles.
The radio reports about the soldiers chuffs my spirit, and I immediately start building a shelter. Working with my hands usually helps me subdue my negative thoughts, and I'm fearful that soldiers are heading my way. Thinking of what those soldiers may or may not do weighs heavy on my soul. I look back at Rota while she gives Rory a drink of water, and Naira sits by a large tree. She isn't looking well. I'll kill a thousand soldiers to protect one Rota, and it's just that simple. Thinking about some hairy ape touching her enrages me, and I have to sit down for a second to compose myself.
The tent is nothing more than an old army tent from the Earth Military Coalition that I had stored in my hovel back at the commune. It's the last vestige of materials that I have from them, and Ion assists me in erecting the old army shelter. It's a sturdy modular tent that can withstand strong winds when it's staked just right. It packs up in an extremely small bundled, and the poles are made out of a space aged aluminum alloy that doesn't break easy. Ten years ago it was a top of the line quality product, but now they're everywhere. Ion and I don't take any shortcuts with the stakes; we fastens every corner as tight as possible in order to withstand any strong winds. He watches me closely, and does everything that I do. He's smart and a quick learner.
I grab the Charge Weapons out of the roller, and bring them into the tent. Rory clears her throat, and gives me an awkward glare. She knows how Rota feels about the guns, but I can't risk it with rogue soldiers wrecking communities. Rota is gathering sticks and twigs for a fire, and I'm going to help her as soon as I'm done with stashing the weapons. Naria sits in the corner of the tent, and falls asleep while Ion sharpens the knife he found.
"She's not going to like it," Rory says in a childish voice.
"It's protection," I say, "Nothing else."
I know having the weapons in the tent puts my relationship with Rota in a precarious situation, but what else is there to do. I place them out of the way against the rear right corner of the tent in the hopes that Rota won't snoop around to find them. It's foolish for her to think I can throw rocks at soldiers or talk to soldiers reasonably after the Yosemite debacle. With their po-tech guns, hate for Votans, and love for killing, I doubt we'll be able to reach an understanding. It's fortuitous that I found this little area of land, and the soldiers might not even find us. But at the same time, I can't risk it. I need weapons in case the soldiers try to kill us or take our property or rape the girls.
The radio tells us of a Votan camp approximately ten miles north of us, and they send soldiers into a human occupied area, and helps them with the Irathient flu. Several humans die in the first twenty-four hours of the outbreak, and then the disease zigzags its way through the entire community-killing half. I'm not sure if I'm listening to a Votan controlled radio station or what, but I'm nervous about the proximity of the Votans to my bivouac. They're demanding a ceasefire in order to deal with the aftermath of the terraforming planet, and working with human scientist to create medicines to deal with the Irathient flu.
I hear Rota screaming, and I grab one of the Charge Weapons, and run out of the tent. I'm looking for her, but I don't see anything. Maybe she fell in the river, but I don't see her at all. The vegetation is thick, and all around me. Humidity causes me to break into a deep sweat. The smell of the water isn't even refreshing at this point because my heart is pounding loud enough for me to hear it. I'm scared. Ion runs out of the tent with his small blade, and he's looking around the area too. He points at the hilltop adjacent to our position, and I see a soldier holding a knife to Rota's throat. He's a white soldier, a pale soldier with thinning red hair. I know him.
"Knew you're a traitor, LT," Plywood Heller says with a snarl on his face. "Instead of killing this scum," he pauses for a second, and spits in her face. "You're fucking it."
All I can think about is killing the man at this point, but I dare not shoot him with Rota in the way. When I look Rota in the eyes, her tears make me want to kill Heller even more. Ion comes up behind me, and is ready to attack Plywood at any time.
"How fucking cute?" Heller asks. "That's your little mop headed child?"
"Let her go, soldier," I say in a command voice. "Nobody has to get hurt today."
"You don't give me orders, LT," he screams, "You're not my boss anymore." He places the knife to Rota's throat, and I raise my weapon at his head. Regardless, I plan on shooting him at this point.
"Don't do it, Heller," I say one last time. As soon as he presses the knife against her throat, I pull the trigger. His head explodes from the blast. Rota crawls over to me, and grabs me by the leg. The Daffodil flower she wears on her head falls to the ground. She's frightened.
Ion points to Plywood as his headless body lies on the soft, warm ground, and I notice his blood is silver. I'm startled for a moment. My mind races for a bit with all kinds of negative thoughts because this man was a former subordinate on my team. His resume is fresh in my mind after all these years, and he comes across as the most American of all the men on my team. Plywood is a nobody in the Earth Military Coalition, the last man on the totem pole. Ion picks up Rota's Daffodil, and gives it to me. I smell the yellow flower for a moment, and then place it gently back in her hair. I help her to her feet, but she purposely doesn't look at the carnage I caused. We walk over to the tent, and Rory sits in the corner reading a book. Naira lies asleep on the ground. Feeling her head, she's warm, too warm. I look up at Rota, and she immediately grabs the fever reducing pills.
"Naira, wake up," I say. Rota repeats what I say in her native tongue, and the child opens her eyes slightly. The red bumps cover her face, and I can't help but squint in horror. Rota tells Ion to stay outside the tent because Naira is infectious. I give her the pill, and a cool glass of water, and she drinks only a little. The red bumps appear on her face, but slightly, and Rota shakes her head back and forth. Teary eyed, Rota looks at the girl's face from top to bottom, and lifts up her shirt. She's covered in little red bumps all over her stomach and chest.
"She's got the pox," Rota says with a grimace on her face. She places her hands on the child's cheeks, and laments with three simple words: "It's my fault."
"No it's not," I say, "It happened, and now we make sure she gets better."
Ion sits atop the hill like a warrior on the lookout for the enemy, and I go up there with him. His hair spikes in all different directions, and he looks like a wild child. He wears a dead look on his face, and doesn't seem to be a very happy kid. He flicks his folding blade open, and cleans his fingernails. He's adept with a knife.
"Is she okay?" He ask in his native tongue.
I give him a blank stare while I'm trying my best to explain the situation.