Mankind

Chapter Five

9:33 AM. Jesse overslept. It's not like him, he's usually up bright and early but something is different. Today he just feels tired, almost like his body is exhausted.

He throws his legs over the side of his bed, he presses his bare feet against the cold wooden floor. He shivers. Jesse looks at himself in the large mirror in the corner of the room, he flexes, clicks his tongue with finger guns, then smooths back his hair.

"Jesse, are you awake?" His mother calls out. "There's someone here to see you!"

Here to see me? He thinks to himself. He throws on an old ratty pair of jeans, cozy socks, and a t-shirt that has seen better days, then heads downstairs.

Standing in the doorway is Sam. Jesse stops just at the bottom step and looks to his mother. She's smiling, inviting Sam inside.

"Come come. Sit down, Sam! Jesse, look, it's Sam!"

"Get out." Jesse says. He swallows a lump in his throat.

"Jesse!" His mom is taken aback. "That's no way to treat a friend."

"He's not my friend." Jesse holds back tears but he's stern. "Please leave."

Sam nods silently, understanding Jesse's reaction. He knows it's not easy, and he can't fault him for feeling this way. With a heavy heart, Sam turns away, leaving Jesse to his thoughts. As the door closes behind him, Jesse takes in a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over him, as if a burden has been lifted from his chest.

"What's gotten into you, Jesse?"

"He's no friend, mom. He left me here without saying goodbye. He said he loved me, said he'd meet me at our spot and never did!" Jesse collapses onto the step, weeping into his hands.

"Oh my baby." His mother runs to his side, scooping him into her arms. "He's back now, Jess. Maybe you can talk things through."

Sam's gaze meets Cassie's and he lets out a huff of anger. She takes a deep breath, she's in no mood for comforting, in fact, she doesn't think she's ever in the mood for it but he's her friend and she'd do anything for her friends.

"Didn't go over so well?" She asks, already knowing the answer to her dumbly asked question.

He shakes his head. "It was terrible. He kicked me out like I was nothing."

"Well..." She shrugs. "You kinda did the same to him, ya know."

Sam grunts. "I know, I know. For some reason I just thought I'd come back and everything would be back to normal. Like nothing happened."

"Not how things go in the real world, Sam."

"Ouch. You're feisty."

"My mind is preoccupied."

"You're right," He says with a sigh. "I'm sorry."

She takes a seat in the dirt, he joins next to her as she twiddles with a blade of grass between her fingers.

"I sat by the radio all night last night, hoping something from her would come through."
"Just give it a bit more time," Sam gives her a reassuring pat on the back. "I'm sure she'll reach out when she can."

...STEELTON...

Steelton's suburbs stand as a stark contrast to the flooded and damaged areas within the city. Nestled away from the water's reach, these neighborhoods boast neatly manicured lawns, well-maintained houses, and taken care of streets that trucks use around the clock. The houses, constructed with sturdy materials, remain largely unscathed by the ravages of the floodwaters and they exude an aura of orderliness and security, a testament to the diligent efforts of the Steelton Federation in maintaining their stronghold.

These suburbs serve as the residential enclave for the workers of the Steelton Federation, including Joan and other key personnel. They are often bustling with activity during the day but tension hangs high in the atmosphere, hinting at the shady operations and the ever-present authority of the Federation.

Joan...

A truck drops her off just outside her home. The houses in Steelton's suburbs are modest in size, reminiscent of the tiny houses that gained popularity in the wake of the Refugee Crisis. Built with practicality and efficiency in mind, they are compact yet functional, designed to accommodate more people within limited space. The houses feature simple architectural styles, with clean lines and minimalist aesthetics, but now are worn and faded due to the passing of time.
Their watchful gaze was ever-present, a constant weight upon Joan's shoulders that sent shivers down her spine and set her teeth on edge. Each step she took felt like movement through a minefield of scrutiny, her senses heightened to the point of paranoia.

As she reached her door, she couldn't help but feel like collapsing into an unwakeable sleep but she knew her routine would be starting again in a short eight hours. She throws her keys in a small dish on the stand just in the doorway and slips off her boots. She passes the mirror on the wall but stops for a quick glance at her reflection. Her eyes are worn out, skin showing age way before it needs to, and a single tear slides down her cheek.

The inside of her new home is quaint. It's got a bathroom, a small kitchenette, and the living-room couch pulls out into a modest bed. It's not the most comfortable, she misses her bed back home. But more than anything, she misses Cassie and Ryan.

Before she can sit down, there's a knock at the door. She takes a breath and smooths any wrinkles from her clothes. Her hand reaches for the doorknob, trembling slightly, but she stiffens and opens it slowly.

"Joan." A voice calls out.
"Melody?!" Joan lets out a sigh of relief. Melody, a woman she used to know, long before any of this. A college friend. "What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?"

"Hush." Melody pushes her way inside. "There's no time to explain. Here." She discreetly hands Joan a small radio. "I've written my frequency on the back. We'll talk more later."

As quickly as she entered, she left. A confused Joan stands silently, holding the radio tight in her hand. Not only did this mean she could talk to Melody, but she could contact O'Connor. Again, a single tear slid down her cheek, but this time, a tear of joy.

Sam lies sprawled out in the bed of flowers near the wall; their spot. All he can think about is the day he left, crushing Jesse and even possibly ruining their relationship for good. But he doesn't want to think about that, he wants to think about the good. The glimmer in Jesse's eyes when he talked about things he liked, the way his hands felt when they were intertwined, and how soft his lips were.

Ruined. All ruined.

He sits up, his fingers delicately combing through his long, wavy locks, dislodging the crushed petals that had nestled within. His hair cascades in waves just passed his shoulders, a contrast to Jesse's sleek, straight strands. Yet, there's a meticulousness to Sam's mane, each curl purposefully arranged, framing his face in a way that Jesse's hair could never replicate even if he tried.
"Are you about to leave?" Jesse calls out.

Sam turns to him quickly, his stomach doing somersaults. "I was, but I'll stay if you want me."
Jesse falls into the pile of flowers, letting them engulf his body. "I'm sorry I was so harsh to you earlier."

Sam shakes his head. "You had every right to be."

"You left," Jesse exhales heavily, as if carrying a weight he can no longer bear. "Why didn't you say goodbye?" His voice cracks with emotion as he rises to meet Sam's gaze, his eyes searching for answers. Then, in a heartbeat, he crumbles into Sam's embrace, his tears flowing freely, a river of emotions finally unleashed.
"Jesse," Sam holds him close. "I couldn't face you, I couldn't say goodbye because I didn't want it to mean I'd never see you again."

"Screw you, Sam!" Jesse weeps.

"I know." Sam holds him closer, and tighter. "Let it out."

Jesse pulls away, sniffling. "You're back and I can't believe it. After all this time."

Sam cradles his cheeks in his hands. "And I'll never leave you again."

The two embrace. Their hugs like long lost souls finally returning to their bodies.