Tale of The Broken Sword

Chapter Thirty Eight : Brotherly Reunion

18th February, AD 2057

Washington D.C. – Former City

It’s finally dawn. After walking for hours last night, we’ve finally managed to meet up with the rest of them near the White House. We found shelter in an apartment block opposite of the magnificent building. Simmons, Warren, and I took turns keeping guard, on constant lookout for any movement.

There was nothing out there all night, except for a few gunshots and a loud howl nearby, most scavengers usually flocked towards the west end of the city, not here. Central Districts are the heart of the wild dogs’ colony. Getting trapped between these two things will kill. And that’s pretty nasty.

As the blazing heat from the sun burns the surface of every building that was caught in its beam, temperatures, from chilly single-digits numbers soared up to triple-digit values. The heat alone was enough for a slow kill, and we wouldn’t want to stay here any longer. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and leapt out of the ledge from an enormous pile of rubble. It was the only safe place available for a night, and high places will keep one away from those things.

“Kelson, you take point,” Simmons sat up in his makeshift bed, stretching his body before shifting his body towards the rest, waking them up in the earnest. I nodded and exited through the entrance of the building and step down the searing concrete stairs with hot metal rails to the cracked pavements below. I can feel my stomach rumbling, and my throat was as dry as the city itself.

I glanced both ways along the empty avenue that separates us from the gardens surrounding the partially destroyed landmark and our goal. Virtually no life exists on the road as far as my eyes can see. Everything was quiet, and the only thing that was moving was the hot gust of wind and millions of tiny dust particles carried along with it.

I walked out further towards the middle of the cracked and ripped road. My feet drag as I immersed deeper into the blazing sunlight, and cries for a cool glass of water grew louder by the minute. If I couldn’t replenish my bodily fluid anytime now, this city could now be my last place to visit.

“Anything out there?” Warren approached closer, trying to look away from the direction of the sun. Like me, he was desperate for water. Could see that in his face. “God, the sun’s killing me.”

“Feeling bad?” I asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was more or less a failed joke to him. Warren ignored it and I felt that I shouldn’t have said that in the first place. I looked away in embarrassment.

“Our destination’s just in front of us,” Warren pointed out. “We’ll be reaching it minutes from now.”

“You don’t say,” I replied, looking at the ruins of the White House.

“Come on,” Simmons walked past us. “Stand here any longer and the sun will kill you, I dare you for that. Fifty dollars if you can remain here for another four hours.” He winked to the both of us.

“Sure, I will do it.” Warren started to walk away. “Unlike this guy over here.”

“You cocky bastard,” I snorted, before following him from behind. I avoid a wide crack in the pavement, leaping over to the other side. “Careful now.”

The winds are starting to get stronger now, and hot gust of it swirls around our bodies as we walk against it. Waves of dust swirls around the air and some of it went into my eyes. Painful it was, and my eyes were filled with tears in an instant. The rest of them saw my suffering and tried to avoid the worst of the sandy air. It’s impossible to avoid it.

The trip across the avenue wasn’t that bad as expected, except in the case of the weather. Transplanted trees standing along the pavements are leafless, and they do add further to the chilling feeling that already exists in the empty city.