Post by Admin on Sept 9, 2015 23:34:45 GMT
Finally. There's a jump in time between intro into Underground Salvation (at least the part that I was able to motivate myself to do 
) and the new escapade which takes place roughly six to seven weeks later (Labeled Mute B). Anyway, I couldn't force myself to do a bread and butter Underground Salvation part, so I skipped a lot. In short, the second part of this post will fill you in for what you need to know, but basically, they escape the cult, the city and suburbs and make it to the Appalachian Mountains, several miles west of the city. NOTICE: New bios for Outcast and/or Mute will be released soon. ANOTHER NOTICE: Cheesy moment or two ahead. Now back to Ryker in Underground Salvation.
Second Wacky Wednesday (wow this wacky thing is already getting old
) is Mute IX.
I stood in the Northview parking lot. Several yards away, Leon faced Krauser. But I could see the gun Krauser held behind his back, hidden from Leon. A deep smile displayed on Krauser face.
I have to get his attention. I have to warn him! We have to get away!
I tried to warn Leon, tried to speak. But I couldn’t get any words out of my mouth. I tried to sprint toward my brother, but my legs couldn’t move fast enough; feet just slapping uselessly at the concrete like wet spaghetti.
Leon! LEON! RUUUN! LEEOOOON!!
Could only watch as Krauser confidently lifted his concealed black pistol and fired. Leon’s head whipping back from the force, his legs falling out from under him. Krauser just kept shooting him until the magazine was spent and Leon lay sprawled on the ground, body lanced with half a dozen bullet holes. And I couldn’t do anything.
Krauser slowly turned to me now, a smile spreading across his face. I couldn’t think, run, move. He confidently raised his weapon right at me.
Dead. DEAD! No, no, NO! NO! NO!
I immediately sat straight up. My arm raised to cover my face from the scene in front of me. For several seconds, I just sat there, breathing hard, trying to make sense of anything.
A dream. A dream. A dream. Another one of my…messed up dreams.
It was pitch black in the room I slept in, and I listened furiously for the sound of Leon and Myra’s breathing. Just to make sure. I held my breath.
Yes… I could hear both of them. Asleep, near me. Leon was safe. Myra was safe.
I eased myself back down onto my makeshift chair bed, minding my bruised ribs which throbbed because of my quick sit up. My head was now buzzing, trying to separate truth from dream.
We’re in Underground Salvation. Sleeping in the once youth group rec room, which doesn’t have any windows or light…because…Krauser let us stay…we’re okay…Nixon’s note. Nixon helped us out after all. Damn, we’re lucky.
…Did Nixon actually say he liked my sense of humor in the note or did I dream that up too?
In any case, I had absolutely no sense of what time it was, so I just reflected some more.
I remembered that soon after we first came into the dimly lit church entrance, Krauser got their doctor, Dr. Malcolm, to make sure we didn’t have any deadly injuries. Malcolm was friendly enough and looked us over for a minute or two. In fact, when the doctor first saw us and what we had brought, he was ecstatic to see the antidote and thanked us dearly. We were already on their good side.
None of us had concussions or broken bones that needed major mending. Malcolm thought Myra would wake up soon enough. She would be watched, but he speculated she would be fine. Although ‘speculations’ weren’t the most convincing medical news, it was the only news we would get on Myra; at least until she woke. Again.
Leon had many bumps, bruises, and cuts, but they could all be managed without over the top treatment or medicine. Although I’m sure he would ache all over for days, since pain killers and real medication were in short supply everywhere, even in big time places like here.
Since ribs couldn’t be splinted or bandaged easily like other bones, Malcolm suggested that I rest easier for a day or two and fetched me a bag ice. Actual ice for my wound. Forget that, as soon as I saw the frozen crap, my jaw dropped and I just stared at it. Krauser saw Leon and my expressions and explained that they had a limited amount of power from an independent generator that they used to power a flood light used to occasionally catch people in the parking lot (Leon for example) and a blessed freezer to preserve some rare meat and freeze ice. As for the rest of the building, a few oil lamps, candles, and flashlights sufficed at night; power use was closely measured here just like anywhere else.
Strange…to think that even the top predators of the food chain were just as cautious with their resources as the bottom feeders. The only difference between them and us was their well kept location, amount of men and firepower, and overall niche in the ecosystem of this f—ed up city.
Anyway, seeing how tired we were quickly becoming, Krauser graciously led us to the rec room, an unused chamber that contained a couch and extra chairs. He explained things as we went and got another buff Salvation member to carry ‘sleeping’ Myra along. I just hope Leon listened better to Krauser than I did, cause I felt like I was walking through a dream, a very long and exhausting dream that might finally have an end in sight.
Once in the room, we laid Myra on the couch, and Leon and I put three foldup chairs together. The last and only things I remember Krauser saying before he left us to ourselves was, “Dawn is close, but you may sleep for many hours more. In the morning, you’ll see what is expected of you. In the morning, we will become enlightened of each other’s stories. And in the morning, you will begin anew. But until then, rest.”
And rest I did, even though my sleep was punctuated by nightmares. I don’t know if Leon kept a watch, but judging by his heavy breathing, he was fast asleep.
But were we truly safe?
Yes. Yes we were, but the searing vision of my dream stayed fresh in my mind. Just another haunting dream to add to the collection, I guess.
Just as I was about to attempt to fall back asleep, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and voices outside the rec room doors. I decided to lay back down and pretend that I was still asleep. I don’t know why. Suddenly, the doors swung wide open, and Krauser along with two other men strode in. Shreds of morning light from the few open hall windows behind them seemed to flood the room, waking the other two sleepers.
“Rise and shine,” Krauser announced in his equally commanding and hospitable voice. “Oh, I see the sleeping mute is awake and ready.”
At that, I turned to see Myra who was sitting straight up in her makeshift bed, looking around. How long had she been up for? Was she awake when I jumped out of my nightmare?
Krauser led us up and out into the halls of the church. Though still feeling as drained as last night, my feeling of imminent danger and constant fear had dulled down a huge amount.
“Everyone has a place. Every morning before 7 is the normal wake up time. 9 is hit the hay, though many of us are up completing watch or out in the city overnight,” he said as he led us back to the eating area, long after the rest of the building had gotten up and eaten. They regularly go out at night? I guess it’s not unusual for such a well-equipped group.
It was late morning and now several men and women milled around us, completing tasks and fulfilling orders. Doing this and that like a busy old ant colony. Most just glanced at us and moved on. We were certainly rare sights to them, shuffling, dirty outsiders inside their home, their own fortress, but Krauser’s leading presence caused most members to shift lingering looks away and continue on their way faster than before. As we went, I glanced discretely at some of them, careful not to lock eyes with any. Some wore ordinary, but slightly above average clothing while others that passed us wore the familiar Salvationist garbs that members wore when venturing outside this building. I’d seen them before. Everyone for miles had seen their uniform. And as long as that splotchy mix of red, white, and black walked past us, I had to fight down the instinctual, great fear that was long associated with them. I made sure I didn’t fall too far behind Krauser.
Upon arriving at the ‘dining room’ doors, Krauser graciously led us inside, and sat us down at the many circular tables around the room – tables that I was sure many months ago served as the eat-a-Christian-donut tables on Sunday morning. In fact, looking around the above averagely kept room, I could’ve fooled myself into thinking that this was a Sunday of old, in which donuts, precious donuts, were served to anyone-
I shook my head and concentrated on what Krauser was saying. I really need to listen. How long has he been talking at that door?
“-at 7 every morning. Lunch at 12. Dinner at 6. Although those on watch or out scavenging and such are fed at different times. Or if they’re out for a while, are distributed rations for the appropriate amount of time. Meals are given out depending on your age, gender, and tasks. Never too careful about rations,” he extensively explained food and then cleared his throat. “Anyways, Cookie here is doing overtime for you three, and we’ve already done the math for each of you. You’ll be worth each of your weights in work. Once you’re all done, I will have Hank complete the rest of the…orientation for you. He’s in charge of the rare new comers like you, so for the next day or two, he’ll give you the rest of what’s expected, including assigning you up into groups. Do you all agree so far?”
He asked this last line, expectant of an answer, a yes or a no. As if we’d decline the offer to live here. Everything’s so nice and orderly here. The only thing that I don’t like about this is assigning us to different groups… but we’ll get to that later.
Leon was the one to answer in a very unfamiliar and polite voice, “Mr. Krauser…I don’t know what to say.”
But he just smiled and answered, “Rarely are people given salvation from the outside world, but in those few cases, most say thank you.”
“Thank you!” both Leon and I blurted out at the same time. I think Myra nodded enthusiastically beside us, but I didn’t look at her.
Krauser merely smiled deeper if you can describe a smile as deep, and left back out the way we came. Luring us into a false sense of security...
Mute B
Waking up this morning was a dreary affair.
I was having that light, misty feeling again. It was the floating, peaceful thing only found in the stuff of sleep, but as soon as I realized it was there, like always, it dissipated. And as always, the heavy scent of mud and smoke returned to me with a vengeance, as if it were angry at me for ignoring it in my sleep. I didn’t open my eyes at first. A habit I had formed in the many months of living in this world.
I knew what sight would greet me when I did. The grey tent ceiling just above my head. So that if I reached up out of my warm sleeping bag, I could graze the damp fabric but not get my fingers wet with the morning dew that coated the outside of the tent. I imagined the shadows of the branches and tree trunks outlined on the ceiling meeting my own hand. The resulting deep, safe feeling.
And all of it to ourselves. Just me…Myra…and…
I suddenly lay completely still trying to comprehend what my mind was doing in its sleep bogged state. I forgot. And now I laid in a completely state of mind, trying to halt the rush of terrible thoughts and memories away for a weak second, but as – Fucccking – always, I slowly accepted them. I had to remember.
Myra and I. Just Myra and I…
It took every ounce of my will just to stop my heart from plunging into my feet and stop myself from taking the glock sitting a few feet away from me on the tarp floor and doing what I should have done yesterday. Yesterday – the chaos and the kidnapping. And now that I thought of it, how long had I been asleep? Hopefully not more than an hour or two. How the hell did I manage to even sleep considering what happened just last night?!
Somehow, I finally opened my eyes to the scene I had predicted before. Same tent. Same translucent morning light finding its way inside the abode with me, pestering me into thought and motion.
No, there’s still a chance to find him again…I know where I have to go. Where they took him. I know what I have to do.
And to officially begin the shitty day, I sincerely called out in the safety my own mind, Leon, I’m coming.
Now turning onto my right side to face Myra’s sleeping bag, I saw that she wasn’t there at all. Instead, the sleeping item was curled up into its carryable form and sitting there without a Myra inside. And the glock was gone too. With a familiar sense of panic, I hastily rose out of my sleeping bag and lunged toward the door which I began unzipping double time.
No, I’m overreacting, I thought without any real conviction as I fumbled with the flap. She’s right outside. She’s right outside. She’s-
Flinging open the flap and scanning the forest beyond, I saw nothing but calm trees all around. Now I truly couldn’t help myself but cry out in my stupidity, “MYRA!”
And there, around the nearest tree trunk (not 10 feet away), I saw that mess of mahogany hair whip around to look back at me in complete bewilderment. In her hand, I could see one of the books I had given her weeks ago. She was safe, reading. But her eyes showed confusion and surprise. An obvious, what in the hell was that look?
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” I stammered in a new found shakiness. I had a knack for bad mornings. Which only seemed to bring back even more memories of Leon, and so I let my eyes drop to the ground. “I just thought that you…”
Suddenly, she had strolled the short distance to me and was tugging my hand out of the tent and to the tree she had been sitting at. I didn’t resist or even shut the flap behind me. She just pulled me over and sat me down across from her and the tree. I realized that lying on the ground nearby was the scrabble board (that had survived several weeks of hard travel), the glock, and a couple of salvaged breakfast bars from the ranger station a few miles away. Now she began taking out the scrabble board with her left hand and picking up one of the bars in her right.
I tried to begin but just ended up sounding monotone and plastic, “Look, Myra, I’m sorry, but I’m going-“
Myra’s hand thrust out and practically threw the food into my face, effectively interrupting me. And now, with both hands, working on it, Myra was seriously arranging the letters into her first words of the morning. I let her say what she needed to say before I tried again, and I let the still wrapped bar sit on the ground for now.
I TOOK WATCH IF ANY MORE OF THEM SHOWED UP. BOTH TRUCKS LEFT TOWN. Made some room for the next message. WE BETTER GET GOING FOR LOST TIME.
I looked up at her. She looked up at me. We both anticipated the other’s next move. We were both so predictable. But at the time, I didn’t care, so I went first, “I’m not asking you to go with me.”
She immediately stooped back over to rearrange a response, but I talked hurriedly on as she did it this time. “It’s safe here. You know how to hunt and fend for yourself… he taught both of us well. But I have to go after him. I can’t just let him go when I think- I know- he’s still alive, Myra.”
I glanced at her answer, my hands still raised in mid-debate. SHUT UP. I MADE A DEAL WITH LEON MY FIRST DAY. TO HELP YOU BOTH.
I dropped my hands. I remembered the deal. I said, “You made a deal to help us out AS LONG as you were living under our roof. That roof is long gone by now. You don’t have to do anything anymore.”
Her green, iron eyes said the rest, drilling into mine for several seconds, and then she moved to pack up the scrabble board and letters seeing as our conversation here was done. I didn’t know what to say as she did this. Shut up. A closed conversation.
And in that brief moment, my mind actually focused on something other than finding Leon. I remembered her, again, on her first day with us. I recalled her ‘analysis’ of me when we talked one on one for the first time in my room:
There was silence as she put one more thing on the board: IM GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS WORTHY OF LIVING.
I looked back up at Myra who was already walking toward the two and a half person tent, no doubt to help empty it, pack it, and carry it to our next destination.
Packing up what we had and could carry was a bleak affair. This faithful camp spot had served as a relatively safe and isolated ‘home’ for us. But there was no home for me without Leon; not one place no matter how safe. Finding the kidnappers' trail was easy. Skirting around the town in which Leon had been taken, Myra and I made our way to the road on which the trucks had left.
Just last night, I thought as we hiked around the deserted town outskirts to the road in which the trucks had left. Just hours ago, we all came to this little remote town to scavenge for anything, just like several times before. It was barely a mile away from camp. Seemingly safe - as it had been for weeks. Seeing as this entire area and forest was mostly deserted, we had just barely begun to relax here when a convoy or something swept through yesterday. Like a damn pack of wolves, Red Rebirth troops swarmed the street we were on. Myra and I were close enough to the alley to go unseen and safe. Leon wasn’t. There wasn’t even a fight. I barely remembered what happened next, but I did recall Myra pulling me back into the shadows with all her might when I saw Leon blinded and thrown in the back of one of the red spray painted trucks. Somehow, we returned to camp safely. We could see the trucks stay in the town a while longer, but I must’ve fallen asleep in our tent. Again, I don’t know how I did that...
Although we were weary of the possibility of lingering men from last night, we agreed that only the two trucks we had seen earlier had passed through here. They were both gone now. We hadn’t had a chance to even try saving Leon last night, but now I was sure there would be another time. He was being held captive with them. The red soldiers had a camp somewhere and there we would find Leon. Alive.
And I…we will find that camp. And get him back.
Finding the road out of town was easy. We knew exactly where it was, and it had fat tire tracks imprinted into its dusty, rural face.
Now looking down the small slope that led out of the town and under the ever grey sky above (some things don’t change), I was hit by the sudden feeling of silence. Not loneliness or emptiness or cold. But this quiet, inexplicable sensation. Something that made me feel almost contrary to the world ahead of us. It actually made the gray sky above seem a little bit clearer.
I turned to Myra as we stood on the poorly made road together. I don’t know why we were standing still or how we knew to stop for each other, really. But I nodded. She nodded. We didn’t smile because we both knew that we didn’t have to fake a happiness we didn't have on our faces. We just knew we were ready to continue.
So I took another step.
) and the new escapade which takes place roughly six to seven weeks later (Labeled Mute B). Anyway, I couldn't force myself to do a bread and butter Underground Salvation part, so I skipped a lot. In short, the second part of this post will fill you in for what you need to know, but basically, they escape the cult, the city and suburbs and make it to the Appalachian Mountains, several miles west of the city. NOTICE: New bios for Outcast and/or Mute will be released soon. ANOTHER NOTICE: Cheesy moment or two ahead. Now back to Ryker in Underground Salvation.Second Wacky Wednesday (wow this wacky thing is already getting old
) is Mute IX.I stood in the Northview parking lot. Several yards away, Leon faced Krauser. But I could see the gun Krauser held behind his back, hidden from Leon. A deep smile displayed on Krauser face.
I have to get his attention. I have to warn him! We have to get away!
I tried to warn Leon, tried to speak. But I couldn’t get any words out of my mouth. I tried to sprint toward my brother, but my legs couldn’t move fast enough; feet just slapping uselessly at the concrete like wet spaghetti.
Leon! LEON! RUUUN! LEEOOOON!!
Could only watch as Krauser confidently lifted his concealed black pistol and fired. Leon’s head whipping back from the force, his legs falling out from under him. Krauser just kept shooting him until the magazine was spent and Leon lay sprawled on the ground, body lanced with half a dozen bullet holes. And I couldn’t do anything.
Krauser slowly turned to me now, a smile spreading across his face. I couldn’t think, run, move. He confidently raised his weapon right at me.
Dead. DEAD! No, no, NO! NO! NO!
I immediately sat straight up. My arm raised to cover my face from the scene in front of me. For several seconds, I just sat there, breathing hard, trying to make sense of anything.
A dream. A dream. A dream. Another one of my…messed up dreams.
It was pitch black in the room I slept in, and I listened furiously for the sound of Leon and Myra’s breathing. Just to make sure. I held my breath.
Yes… I could hear both of them. Asleep, near me. Leon was safe. Myra was safe.
I eased myself back down onto my makeshift chair bed, minding my bruised ribs which throbbed because of my quick sit up. My head was now buzzing, trying to separate truth from dream.
We’re in Underground Salvation. Sleeping in the once youth group rec room, which doesn’t have any windows or light…because…Krauser let us stay…we’re okay…Nixon’s note. Nixon helped us out after all. Damn, we’re lucky.
…Did Nixon actually say he liked my sense of humor in the note or did I dream that up too?
In any case, I had absolutely no sense of what time it was, so I just reflected some more.
I remembered that soon after we first came into the dimly lit church entrance, Krauser got their doctor, Dr. Malcolm, to make sure we didn’t have any deadly injuries. Malcolm was friendly enough and looked us over for a minute or two. In fact, when the doctor first saw us and what we had brought, he was ecstatic to see the antidote and thanked us dearly. We were already on their good side.
None of us had concussions or broken bones that needed major mending. Malcolm thought Myra would wake up soon enough. She would be watched, but he speculated she would be fine. Although ‘speculations’ weren’t the most convincing medical news, it was the only news we would get on Myra; at least until she woke. Again.
Leon had many bumps, bruises, and cuts, but they could all be managed without over the top treatment or medicine. Although I’m sure he would ache all over for days, since pain killers and real medication were in short supply everywhere, even in big time places like here.
Since ribs couldn’t be splinted or bandaged easily like other bones, Malcolm suggested that I rest easier for a day or two and fetched me a bag ice. Actual ice for my wound. Forget that, as soon as I saw the frozen crap, my jaw dropped and I just stared at it. Krauser saw Leon and my expressions and explained that they had a limited amount of power from an independent generator that they used to power a flood light used to occasionally catch people in the parking lot (Leon for example) and a blessed freezer to preserve some rare meat and freeze ice. As for the rest of the building, a few oil lamps, candles, and flashlights sufficed at night; power use was closely measured here just like anywhere else.
Strange…to think that even the top predators of the food chain were just as cautious with their resources as the bottom feeders. The only difference between them and us was their well kept location, amount of men and firepower, and overall niche in the ecosystem of this f—ed up city.
Anyway, seeing how tired we were quickly becoming, Krauser graciously led us to the rec room, an unused chamber that contained a couch and extra chairs. He explained things as we went and got another buff Salvation member to carry ‘sleeping’ Myra along. I just hope Leon listened better to Krauser than I did, cause I felt like I was walking through a dream, a very long and exhausting dream that might finally have an end in sight.
Once in the room, we laid Myra on the couch, and Leon and I put three foldup chairs together. The last and only things I remember Krauser saying before he left us to ourselves was, “Dawn is close, but you may sleep for many hours more. In the morning, you’ll see what is expected of you. In the morning, we will become enlightened of each other’s stories. And in the morning, you will begin anew. But until then, rest.”
And rest I did, even though my sleep was punctuated by nightmares. I don’t know if Leon kept a watch, but judging by his heavy breathing, he was fast asleep.
But were we truly safe?
Yes. Yes we were, but the searing vision of my dream stayed fresh in my mind. Just another haunting dream to add to the collection, I guess.
Just as I was about to attempt to fall back asleep, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and voices outside the rec room doors. I decided to lay back down and pretend that I was still asleep. I don’t know why. Suddenly, the doors swung wide open, and Krauser along with two other men strode in. Shreds of morning light from the few open hall windows behind them seemed to flood the room, waking the other two sleepers.
“Rise and shine,” Krauser announced in his equally commanding and hospitable voice. “Oh, I see the sleeping mute is awake and ready.”
At that, I turned to see Myra who was sitting straight up in her makeshift bed, looking around. How long had she been up for? Was she awake when I jumped out of my nightmare?
Krauser led us up and out into the halls of the church. Though still feeling as drained as last night, my feeling of imminent danger and constant fear had dulled down a huge amount.
“Everyone has a place. Every morning before 7 is the normal wake up time. 9 is hit the hay, though many of us are up completing watch or out in the city overnight,” he said as he led us back to the eating area, long after the rest of the building had gotten up and eaten. They regularly go out at night? I guess it’s not unusual for such a well-equipped group.
It was late morning and now several men and women milled around us, completing tasks and fulfilling orders. Doing this and that like a busy old ant colony. Most just glanced at us and moved on. We were certainly rare sights to them, shuffling, dirty outsiders inside their home, their own fortress, but Krauser’s leading presence caused most members to shift lingering looks away and continue on their way faster than before. As we went, I glanced discretely at some of them, careful not to lock eyes with any. Some wore ordinary, but slightly above average clothing while others that passed us wore the familiar Salvationist garbs that members wore when venturing outside this building. I’d seen them before. Everyone for miles had seen their uniform. And as long as that splotchy mix of red, white, and black walked past us, I had to fight down the instinctual, great fear that was long associated with them. I made sure I didn’t fall too far behind Krauser.
Upon arriving at the ‘dining room’ doors, Krauser graciously led us inside, and sat us down at the many circular tables around the room – tables that I was sure many months ago served as the eat-a-Christian-donut tables on Sunday morning. In fact, looking around the above averagely kept room, I could’ve fooled myself into thinking that this was a Sunday of old, in which donuts, precious donuts, were served to anyone-
I shook my head and concentrated on what Krauser was saying. I really need to listen. How long has he been talking at that door?
“-at 7 every morning. Lunch at 12. Dinner at 6. Although those on watch or out scavenging and such are fed at different times. Or if they’re out for a while, are distributed rations for the appropriate amount of time. Meals are given out depending on your age, gender, and tasks. Never too careful about rations,” he extensively explained food and then cleared his throat. “Anyways, Cookie here is doing overtime for you three, and we’ve already done the math for each of you. You’ll be worth each of your weights in work. Once you’re all done, I will have Hank complete the rest of the…orientation for you. He’s in charge of the rare new comers like you, so for the next day or two, he’ll give you the rest of what’s expected, including assigning you up into groups. Do you all agree so far?”
He asked this last line, expectant of an answer, a yes or a no. As if we’d decline the offer to live here. Everything’s so nice and orderly here. The only thing that I don’t like about this is assigning us to different groups… but we’ll get to that later.
Leon was the one to answer in a very unfamiliar and polite voice, “Mr. Krauser…I don’t know what to say.”
But he just smiled and answered, “Rarely are people given salvation from the outside world, but in those few cases, most say thank you.”
“Thank you!” both Leon and I blurted out at the same time. I think Myra nodded enthusiastically beside us, but I didn’t look at her.
Krauser merely smiled deeper if you can describe a smile as deep, and left back out the way we came. Luring us into a false sense of security...
Mute B
Waking up this morning was a dreary affair.
I was having that light, misty feeling again. It was the floating, peaceful thing only found in the stuff of sleep, but as soon as I realized it was there, like always, it dissipated. And as always, the heavy scent of mud and smoke returned to me with a vengeance, as if it were angry at me for ignoring it in my sleep. I didn’t open my eyes at first. A habit I had formed in the many months of living in this world.
I knew what sight would greet me when I did. The grey tent ceiling just above my head. So that if I reached up out of my warm sleeping bag, I could graze the damp fabric but not get my fingers wet with the morning dew that coated the outside of the tent. I imagined the shadows of the branches and tree trunks outlined on the ceiling meeting my own hand. The resulting deep, safe feeling.
And all of it to ourselves. Just me…Myra…and…
I suddenly lay completely still trying to comprehend what my mind was doing in its sleep bogged state. I forgot. And now I laid in a completely state of mind, trying to halt the rush of terrible thoughts and memories away for a weak second, but as – Fucccking – always, I slowly accepted them. I had to remember.
Myra and I. Just Myra and I…
It took every ounce of my will just to stop my heart from plunging into my feet and stop myself from taking the glock sitting a few feet away from me on the tarp floor and doing what I should have done yesterday. Yesterday – the chaos and the kidnapping. And now that I thought of it, how long had I been asleep? Hopefully not more than an hour or two. How the hell did I manage to even sleep considering what happened just last night?!
Somehow, I finally opened my eyes to the scene I had predicted before. Same tent. Same translucent morning light finding its way inside the abode with me, pestering me into thought and motion.
No, there’s still a chance to find him again…I know where I have to go. Where they took him. I know what I have to do.
And to officially begin the shitty day, I sincerely called out in the safety my own mind, Leon, I’m coming.
Now turning onto my right side to face Myra’s sleeping bag, I saw that she wasn’t there at all. Instead, the sleeping item was curled up into its carryable form and sitting there without a Myra inside. And the glock was gone too. With a familiar sense of panic, I hastily rose out of my sleeping bag and lunged toward the door which I began unzipping double time.
No, I’m overreacting, I thought without any real conviction as I fumbled with the flap. She’s right outside. She’s right outside. She’s-
Flinging open the flap and scanning the forest beyond, I saw nothing but calm trees all around. Now I truly couldn’t help myself but cry out in my stupidity, “MYRA!”
And there, around the nearest tree trunk (not 10 feet away), I saw that mess of mahogany hair whip around to look back at me in complete bewilderment. In her hand, I could see one of the books I had given her weeks ago. She was safe, reading. But her eyes showed confusion and surprise. An obvious, what in the hell was that look?
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” I stammered in a new found shakiness. I had a knack for bad mornings. Which only seemed to bring back even more memories of Leon, and so I let my eyes drop to the ground. “I just thought that you…”
Suddenly, she had strolled the short distance to me and was tugging my hand out of the tent and to the tree she had been sitting at. I didn’t resist or even shut the flap behind me. She just pulled me over and sat me down across from her and the tree. I realized that lying on the ground nearby was the scrabble board (that had survived several weeks of hard travel), the glock, and a couple of salvaged breakfast bars from the ranger station a few miles away. Now she began taking out the scrabble board with her left hand and picking up one of the bars in her right.
I tried to begin but just ended up sounding monotone and plastic, “Look, Myra, I’m sorry, but I’m going-“
Myra’s hand thrust out and practically threw the food into my face, effectively interrupting me. And now, with both hands, working on it, Myra was seriously arranging the letters into her first words of the morning. I let her say what she needed to say before I tried again, and I let the still wrapped bar sit on the ground for now.
I TOOK WATCH IF ANY MORE OF THEM SHOWED UP. BOTH TRUCKS LEFT TOWN. Made some room for the next message. WE BETTER GET GOING FOR LOST TIME.
I looked up at her. She looked up at me. We both anticipated the other’s next move. We were both so predictable. But at the time, I didn’t care, so I went first, “I’m not asking you to go with me.”
She immediately stooped back over to rearrange a response, but I talked hurriedly on as she did it this time. “It’s safe here. You know how to hunt and fend for yourself… he taught both of us well. But I have to go after him. I can’t just let him go when I think- I know- he’s still alive, Myra.”
I glanced at her answer, my hands still raised in mid-debate. SHUT UP. I MADE A DEAL WITH LEON MY FIRST DAY. TO HELP YOU BOTH.
I dropped my hands. I remembered the deal. I said, “You made a deal to help us out AS LONG as you were living under our roof. That roof is long gone by now. You don’t have to do anything anymore.”
Her green, iron eyes said the rest, drilling into mine for several seconds, and then she moved to pack up the scrabble board and letters seeing as our conversation here was done. I didn’t know what to say as she did this. Shut up. A closed conversation.
And in that brief moment, my mind actually focused on something other than finding Leon. I remembered her, again, on her first day with us. I recalled her ‘analysis’ of me when we talked one on one for the first time in my room:
There was silence as she put one more thing on the board: IM GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS WORTHY OF LIVING.
I looked back up at Myra who was already walking toward the two and a half person tent, no doubt to help empty it, pack it, and carry it to our next destination.
Packing up what we had and could carry was a bleak affair. This faithful camp spot had served as a relatively safe and isolated ‘home’ for us. But there was no home for me without Leon; not one place no matter how safe. Finding the kidnappers' trail was easy. Skirting around the town in which Leon had been taken, Myra and I made our way to the road on which the trucks had left.
Just last night, I thought as we hiked around the deserted town outskirts to the road in which the trucks had left. Just hours ago, we all came to this little remote town to scavenge for anything, just like several times before. It was barely a mile away from camp. Seemingly safe - as it had been for weeks. Seeing as this entire area and forest was mostly deserted, we had just barely begun to relax here when a convoy or something swept through yesterday. Like a damn pack of wolves, Red Rebirth troops swarmed the street we were on. Myra and I were close enough to the alley to go unseen and safe. Leon wasn’t. There wasn’t even a fight. I barely remembered what happened next, but I did recall Myra pulling me back into the shadows with all her might when I saw Leon blinded and thrown in the back of one of the red spray painted trucks. Somehow, we returned to camp safely. We could see the trucks stay in the town a while longer, but I must’ve fallen asleep in our tent. Again, I don’t know how I did that...
Although we were weary of the possibility of lingering men from last night, we agreed that only the two trucks we had seen earlier had passed through here. They were both gone now. We hadn’t had a chance to even try saving Leon last night, but now I was sure there would be another time. He was being held captive with them. The red soldiers had a camp somewhere and there we would find Leon. Alive.
And I…we will find that camp. And get him back.
Finding the road out of town was easy. We knew exactly where it was, and it had fat tire tracks imprinted into its dusty, rural face.
Now looking down the small slope that led out of the town and under the ever grey sky above (some things don’t change), I was hit by the sudden feeling of silence. Not loneliness or emptiness or cold. But this quiet, inexplicable sensation. Something that made me feel almost contrary to the world ahead of us. It actually made the gray sky above seem a little bit clearer.
I turned to Myra as we stood on the poorly made road together. I don’t know why we were standing still or how we knew to stop for each other, really. But I nodded. She nodded. We didn’t smile because we both knew that we didn’t have to fake a happiness we didn't have on our faces. We just knew we were ready to continue.
So I took another step.