Flickers In The Dark

The dive line curved slightly. We were close. I shimmied down beside it, watching Div's leg motions and fins flick with graceful power in front of me. My lungs ached, I still hadn't gotten used to the idea of my own personal atmosphere inside the closed-circuit rebreather. Firesuits and oxygen masks were my second skin on the job. But there was an otherworldly difference about diving. The pressure on all sides. The loss of gravity. I'd passed certification and had performed hundreds of dives but every time the alienness only increased. Exciting and scary. So even now, after hundreds of hours of training, when the water enclosed the dive mask, I automatically held my breath.

I strained to see through the dense water. At the surface, things had been relatively clear, but the deeper you go, the less sunlight can penetrate the ocean's fathom. A denser amorphous deep blue began to take shape. The Constance, an ocean liner from the '20s, came into view. We'd closed the distance quicker than I anticipated and her bow appeared to leap out at me. A wraith of the deep.

"Go ahead-" In front of me Div made an adjustment on her weights and turned to me. "-tell me I'm awesome."

I couldn't see her face well through the helmet but I knew she was grinning like an idiot.

"Wow, these rebreathers must have pretty stellar filters to deal with that kind of smugness."

She blew a raspberry which sounded tinny over the comm. "Eww. Dammit."

Now it was my turn to grin, "You got spittle all over your mask?"

"Shut up."

I laughed, "Aren't you supposed to be some sort of professional diver or something?"

"The. Best." She snorted. "And don't you forget it."

I wouldn't. Divya had over two thousand successful dives. And she was currently in the process of completing a deep dive program in order to assist in deep sea rescues. Mad respect.

Chemistry, Lynn called it. And she'd been right. Divya and I had the same sort of chaotic energy. Or adrenaline junkies as my sister so bluntly put it on more than one occasion when EMTs were called. Really, Lynn only had herself to blame.

Lynn and Divya were coming up on their two-year anniversary and they planned to move in together. So when Lynn announced that we were gonna be a big happy family, Div and I were encouraged (in a not-so-encouraging way) to become cordial. It was kind of one of those, do as I say or suffer deals. And Lynn had a talent for raising all seven shades of hell.

A family was all Lynn had ever wanted. As for me. Lynn had been family enough. Our bio parents and the foster system proved people to be unreliable and greedy and that you meant even less than the garbage bag you hauled your life from temp home to temp home in. So I distrusted everyone on principle.

A cynic? Me? Yeah. Totally. I admit it. Trust was earned.

Divya knew this and cracked the ice first. Literally. Our first hangout had been a dive beneath the ice. No rebreathers. So we communicated with scuba hand signs alone. It was nice not having the pressure to talk. Instead of building bonds by projectile vomiting our souls onto one another, we did it through silent teamwork. Because even when you're only thirty feet from the surface, you best be able to trust your dive partner.

She'd had me pegged from the get-go. Needless to say, we'd started hangin' out. No prodding required. And whenever Lynn was away on an expedition or whatnot, Divya and I headed into open water. We were in constant competition with each other. With Divya's natural competitiveness and my assertive nature, we were a match made in hell. Always one-upping each other no matter the blowout... yeah, good times.

"Cams off?" Divya double-checked with me.

They were. And she knew that. But it never hurt to make doubly sure we weren't incriminating ourselves. The Constance was declared a gravesite and diving was strictly prohibited.

"Yes, mom."

Our lights skipped over the sheered-off plates revealing flashes of pipework. The bowls of the ship. At the last moment, I thought I saw motion. Turned and focused the light on the chasm of bleak blackness. I got the impression of something big and quick.

"By the way," Div elbowed me, which was little more than subtle pressure to my side swaddled inside the suit, "sharks love sunken ships."

I knew that. The alien magnetism of the metal attracted them. She was trying to scare me. And I was. Only an idiot wouldn't be. But the drumming in my ears was also excitement... the unknown... it called to me in a way I'd never been able to understand...

...

As the memory looped in my mind, I shaved the sides of my head above the ears and around the base of my skull. Tightened the mohawk of braids cresting my head and sweeping down my neck to keep it all reigned in. The hairstyle had been huge when Vikings aired. And Div had convinced me it would complement my more masculine build. Now I kept it for sanity's sake... and nostalgia. Moreover, aside from dreadlocks, it was the only way to manage my frizzy red hair. Heavy-duty straightening chemicals weren't exactly available anymore. Or detangler shampoo for that matter. I suppose if I was really desperate I could just shave it all off. But I wasn't desperate. Yet.

Continuing the morning routine, I popped one contact in. Blinked to set it. It gave me a headache to look at myself in the mirror with one lens in and one out. I was almost legally blind in my right eye. Damn genetics. My sister must've sponged up all the good bits during her gestation.

I leaned closer. Staring, trying to find the right angle to see my pupils. The irises were such a severe shade of brown they appeared black in most lighting. It used to weird people out against my deathly pale complexion. Things change. I'd been outdoors so long now that I had a healthy tan and it lessened the intensity. 'Course there'd also been a major explosion in freckles thanks to the sun. The numerous reddish-brown specks looked like I'd been shot in the face with a pellet gun.

Pulling away, I stuck a finger into the other contact case and fished out the other lens. The little bugger folded on my fingertip. I tried to gently work it open but the thin material finally gave up and ripped.

Dammit!

That was my last pair. I managed to make a six-month supply last almost two years but it was time to give up the ghost. I plucked the other one out of my eye and flicked it away. Grabbed my glasses and slipped them on. They were pretty owlish, each round lens the circumference of a wine bottle. The frames were gold which I liked. So had Lynn. She said there was something very disarming when I wore my glasses and that I looked cute. Cute. My job didn't allow for cute. Hell, neither had life.

Thankfully, Divya had helped me find something in between. Allowing me to be comfortable with the roughness and accepting of the softness. Through her, I figured out that my trauma did not define me. It was part of me. It always would be. But I wouldn't allow it to make me a victim. I was a survivor. That comprehension was what gave me the ability to be a good firefighter.

Are you still out there Divya? I hope you are. If you are, do you know Lynn's gone?

I sighed and rolled my neck to work out some kinks. Time to get on with the day. A set routine kept me grounded. It pushed down the darkness creeping around the outer edges of my thoughts at bay. So I left the tiny bathroom and headed for the outdoors for some HIIT.

High-intensity interval training was the best way for me to stay fit out here. Involuntary starvation from time to time helped it along too. Cardio with Gotrek steadily increased my endurance. I had better lung capacity now than I had before the collapse. Strength training was a bit more challenging and my muscle tone had slimmed in the last two years but I was strong. Strong enough to still bear the dead weight of a full-grown man in a fireman carry if necessary. I took pride in that. I hadn't given up.

Suck it, burpees!

Soft as satin ribbons, the delicate newly sprouted grass tickled the backs of my arms and my exposed back. I sighed, enjoying the cool breeze creeping over my skin. The mid-morning sun had taken the bite out of the chill.

Rot from the previous night's kill gave my nose a twitch. I'd come so accustomed to the scent of carrion that it was just a normal everyday smell. Predatory animals tended to be a bit sour. Even rank. They enjoyed a good roll in their kill. It helped masked their own odor.

Bickering yips brought me up on an elbow. The twins were at it. Anika and JoJo, the surviving pups from last spring, bounced around a few yards away. They'd grown quickly, as most animals do. Currently, their bodies hadn't caught up with their gigantic paws. All limbs, like newly birthed foals. Tripping and wobbling, a couple of pups drunk on spring.

For the young, play was all about sharpening skills they would use later as lethal hunters. Engaging in frenetic zoomies; immersing themselves in spontaneous butterfly chases, wrestling matches, and tug of war, honed important social and cognitive skills. As well as the beginning of muscle memory. A successful hunt relies heavily on muscle memory. The ability to act without conscious thought. Equally, important was their social bond. It was imperative that hunters moved without sound, even more so for pack hunters who relied upon eye contact as their only form of communication during the hunt.

Growls and whining, Anika had pinned her brother, and his legs pinwheeled in the air. He got a lucky break and sprinted away. I braced myself. They were bulldozing and careening everywhere. Closer and closer. JoJo spotted me first, spun to nip at his sister who'd gotten a mouthful of tail, then bolted straight at me. I think I was about to become a shield. JoJo being smaller, tended to hide near the adults when his sister got too rambunctious. The adult wolves were wary of me, but I'd been a constant since JoJo and Anika's birth. To them, I was pack. Shelter. And safety.

Razing a raucous in squeals and barks, JoJo only had eyes for me. And of course, he showed no signs of slowing. And the twins would've barreled over me if not for sharp bark.

Gotrek appeared out of thin air, his head bowed and ears down as he abruptly chased after the pups with grunty impassionate huffs. The twins slid to a hilarious halt of tangled limbs. Gotrek clicked his teeth at them. The twins managed to get their legs beneath them and fled, tails tucked but ears still perked. They knew a warning when they heard it. So did I. I hadn't expected that of Gotrek.

I eyed my grey-furred friend perplexed by his foul mood. He seemed off.

Gotrek caught me staring and ambled toward me. He sat beside me, alert and gazing hard at the woods beyond. The tower was on top of a ridge, the water a hundred twenty-six yards below behind it. We were surrounded by dense woods in front and on all sides. Our regular path in and out was scarcely more than a thin line of packed earth.

Somethings out there...

The thought startled me. It burrowed itself deep inside. An insidious insect that wasn't coming out.

Dark skeletal limbs of shadow stretched across the forest floor, creating intricate webs. Pools of dabbled sunlight rippled in the breeze sending currents crashing through the tangles of shadow. The puddles of light became a fierce glimmering, shifting sea. Rays fractured off of velvety baby greens giving rise to tiny auroras here and there. Tall slender branching shapes split from darkness-

Gotrek nudged my elbow, his cold nose giving me a start. It broke the weird eldritch atmosphere and I shivered as the breeze wrapped itself around me. The now tacky sweat holding in the chill. I darted a look at him and he whined, again touching his nose to my forearm. Oh. I'd be reflexively scratching the scar on my forearm. Even during an apocalypse bad habits die hard. And for some reason, it bugged him whenever I did this.

A glare of black liquid in motion shivered in and out of my periphery. I turned. Blinked. And it was gone. All that remained was the continuous dance of shimmering sunshine eddies generated by the wind and branches.

I glanced at Gotrek, inspecting his body language. Alert but not alarmed. He laid down beside me, limbs and tail tightly tucked beneath him, almost as if he were ready to spring up in a hurry.

"I think I'll check on the four-wheeler and the Jeep today," I said absently. An ear twitched but otherwise, Gotrek gave no indication he'd heard me.

There's something out there...

The conception wouldn't dissipate. A cold rush of pins and needles prickled uncomfortably up my back and into my scalp. To make it there and back, I would either have to spend the night in the Jeep and wait until morning or hike back through the dark...

Fuck.

Lead sank into my knees, stiffening my joints at the thought of yet another several-mile trek. And it was no nature walk down the ridge. You had to hike to get to the tower. But in order to reach the hike you had to take a trail using a four-wheeler or a truck with high clearance. Further still, the starting point was a washed-out dirt road that only locals knew about and that's where I'd stashed the Wrangler.

Despite my sister's warning, I still regularly checked on both vehicles. Wouldn't do much good to have them and need them and then not be able to use them because of a flat tire or something else equally stupid and annoying.

And then there was the itch.

An uncomfortable feeling had been steadily growing at the back of my mind. For months, I ignored it. But lately... lately I found myself venturing further and further from our perceived territory. Living with the wolves. Studying their behavior. Watching their interactions had dredged up long-dormant desires. Hey, prolonged isolation does funny things to the mind.

Wolves who went solo in the wild tended to become a bit strange. The same I supposed happened to humans. We are inherently pack animals. We seek each other out.

I wasn't a social creature by any stretch of the imagination. Growing up in the system had warped my ability to create healthy bonds. My poorly paid state-appointed therapist had some more psycho-traumatic babble to add to that but she'd used really big words that I never bothered to remember. But eventually, I figured to fix my shit, I had to throw myself at the mercy of having my life in another person's hands. Working for the fire department imparted important social and physical skills. I'd tentatively learned to trust, but only those I fought back to back with. Without that initial step out of my comfort zone, I would've never gone on that first dive with Div. And that's what I itched for. Having someone I trusted at my back. But what's a girl to do at the end of the world?

Without meaning to, my eyes trekked back to the woods. My fingers smoothed over the scars once more, following the pitted grooves up my forearm. I swallowed convulsively, pulse drumming in my ears. Prolonged isolation does funny things to a person's mind... like populating shadows with monsters.

Huh, right... monsters...


A/N: What's up all! Thanks for reading. I'll be back as soon as I can with an update. P.S. I have done a hot fix on chapter 1. Nothing major. Just a bit of a cleanup. I used the incorrect character name in Chapter 1 for Lynn's girlfriend. So sorry for the name mix-up. I don't always get a chance to do a good edit before posting. I'm honestly lucky I've squeezed in so many updates. I so can not wait until school starts! Luv the kid to bits but dammit Mama needs a minute to fixate on writing XD Or hell, how's about just going to the toilet on my own! Parent's out there get me on this, lol.

Special Thanks:

NeverNeverLady: Eeeeee! Thrilled to bits it read so well. I honestly fixated on that chapter so much that I wasn't even sure I'd written anything coherent. Lol XD Thanx!

angel897: Yeah, I wanted to be a bit more upfront about the backbone of this story. I didn't want the story to drag while she tried to figure it out. Anyway, thanks for reading. :)

SalsaNBlues87: Your review made me giddy. It's such a good feeling when you know others are enjoying your story. :) Thank you