"Was it the best you've ever had?
Was it the worst? You'd never know
I'd try to tell you what I think and play it off like it's joke
Oh no, more surprises, guess it's like this
I'd do anything for you Mrs. Highness."
Vundabar
[Alien Blues, from Gawk]
As the truck approached the gate of the wired fence, a sense of ease washed over her. She knew she shouldn't have let herself get attached to that place, there was no guarantee that it was going to be theirs forever, or even for just another season, but that was their first semblance of a home in a very long time. She shook herself, like trying to shed a daydream.
"Is that a hole?" said Tom, stopping the car abruptly.
"What?"
"There's a freaking hole," he repeated, with an annoyed tone and a contrite expression. "Right there, near the gate. And the fence is all bent."
He was right. Now the million-dollar question: was that an animal looking for food or a live human being? It wasn't a large passage, and there were no other apparent signs of entry, so it couldn't have been anything or anyone too dangerous — a nuisance, at most, not a threat. "Looks fresh," she pointed out. "Seems like we got here in time. I'll take care of it, stay here, just in case."
"Fine by me. I owe you one. Don't die."
"You too. And don't lose our stuff."
The woman got out of the car without waiting for a response, gun in hand, pointed straight in front of her. She looked around, to ensure her assesment had been correct. The gate was unscathed, same for the chain blocking it and for the rest of the fence. There was nothing out of place in the space right in front of the house, and the wooden bars they had nailed to block the door and the windows were still intact. She stood there for a few more moments, holding her breath, listening: sure enough, she heard the sound of wood being pulled and scratched coming from the back. She opened the entrance with one hand making as little sound as possible, before making her way to the noise. She gripped the gun when she got around the corner, getting ready to fire, if necessary. Right there, in front of the backdoor, what at that point she thought was going to be some kind of stray dog, or a fox, was actually a young guy, with a small sack hanging on his back, and a flimsy-looking long stick in his hand, with which he was trying to open the passage to get in, using all his might. It wasn't going well, but he was so focused that he didn't even notice the woman approaching him.
"Hands up. Let go of the stick. And turn to me, slow," she yelled, causing him to violently flinch and yelp. Sophia was already starting to feel a bit bad about it, but couldn't budge just yet. "Why are you here? Are you with someone? With a group or a community? Did they put you on reconnaissance in hopes you'd get mercy?"
"What? No... I... I don't know what... I'm with no one... I'm alone... I swear... I don't know what you're talking about... Oh God, please... don't shoot me... I'll go away... please..." he mumbled in between sobs.
"You came here, saw the fence, the traps, the wooden bars, and you still tried to break in with no tools or weapons. Did you already know this place?"
"Yes... It... it was my sister's house... it's... the only place I know..."
She sighed, grabbed him by the collar of his polo, and pulled him with her to the front. "Here he is," she shouted in Tom's direction. "He's innocent."
"You mean innocuous?" he shouted back, getting out of the car.
YOU ARE READING
in about two weeks.
Science FictionAfter a highly contagious disease caused the downfall of mankind as they know it, married couple Sophia and Tom were forced to leave their home and seek a way to survive in more than ever unforgiving conditions, scavenging for food, collecting rainw...
