They had been at it for days. Days of trekking, looking to find a piece of civilization in the wasteland. The prospect of solitude was always daunting, but he took solace in the fact that he wasn't alone. There had still been people in the city, but at the thought of the city he felt a chill despite the scorching fireball above him.
A bird cry broke the sound of their rhythmic and his not so rhythmic trudging and snapping out of his reverie he brought his rifle to bear, scanning the horizon for danger but there was nothing. No people, no buildings, trees, or signs of life save the unidentifiable bird in the distance.
"Relax Joe, there's nothing around, I doubt it spread this far." She said casually, returning her own pistol to her holster as she did.
He grunted in reply, it didn't matter, it paid to be careful, but she knew that, and he knew that when danger came she was always the more cautious one. He cleared the sand out of his gun before slinging it back over his back and following after her. The pistol was probably a better option or even no gun at all, the sand got everywhere in the desert it did. It got into eyelids, nostrils, phones, bags and guns. His clothes had sand on them, in them, and when he licked his lips he could taste sand. Everywhere he looked he saw sand. He was sick to death of it, but there was nothing to be done about it. He spat a mouthful of sand out onto the sizzling floor and felt for his knife on his belt, a little something that wouldn't stop working cause of sand.
As the noon sun changed to evening sun, and the sky took on the softer hues of purple and orange, he spotted something in the distance.
"You see that Sheila? We aren't supposed to hit anything for another week."
She struggled with her parka as another gust of sand-filled wind started up, the white grains obscuring the screen of her hand-held device as she tried to read from it.
"We might've gone off course, let's head for it anyway."
She was at it again, making decisions for him, but he let her, it didn't matter as long as she didn't do anything stupid. But she wouldn't. So he followed as they neared the structure.
It was an old building, an imposing stone structure, the type that hadn't been built for a few centuries now. As they poked about it in sunset light the ground beneath their feet crumbled and they landed harmlessly in a pile of sand. Sloppy. His mind whispered, you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep this up.
He leapt to his feet as soon as he could and swept his flashlight across the dark. There was nothing. He looked behind and met her gaze, they both nodded silently. All clear.
Ruins, in the middle of the desert. He mused to himself as walked through the cavernous hallway slowly, rifle at the ready. Yes this building must have been a few centuries old at least. Before the meltdown, before everything changed.
"Sat nav shows that we didn't go off course, the maps say there's nothing here." She remarked, the blue glow of that confangled Apple construct reflecting off her face.
"There's more to this world than the maps, how far back do they go? I'd say this place has been gone for more than a century."
It was her turn to fall silent as she mused about the fall of technology. They had been forced to revert to the antique firearms since the melt-down, almost everything had stopped working in the same way. And so they had lived with it, and had done their best to cope. It wasn't as if things a hundred years back were primitive, just inferior in a few ways.
They rounded a corner to find yet another corridor. At the same time they both paused and noiselessly dove behind a fallen pillar. They looked at each other, did you hear that. Suddenly he heard the by now all-too familiar otherworldly cry as the first misshapen figure ran out into the dim light, taking five steps before it fell, it’s head violently exploded by a slug.
Sheila muttered a curse underneath her breath as she reloaded her pistol, placing another bullet in the magazine. Impossible…how did they get here.
He didn’t bother with a reply, his heart pounding furiously he fumbled with his goggles, clicking them on as his world turned to green. He saw first ten, then twenty, then hundreds of jerky figures running towards them. He grabbed her arm.
“Let’s go.”
{finish}
*the questionable ending I was heading to was of them spending the night in the complex, somehow, they would wake up and find a really old violin, and play it. Yeah. That was the original ending, no the supposed ending. Cool right. I gave it up.
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