Through The Ashes

2

The only thing Jorn saw when she closed her eyes now was one of three things: occasional disturbing imagery of dead bodies, other gory things she didn't want to describe, or complete and total darkness. But it wasn't just any darkness. It wasn't static and null. It was fluid and infinite, something she could get lost in if she wanted to. Maybe she already had.

Some people spoke highly of their dreams here, some vivid and outrageous, some about the falling out of the world. Most were about that. Sometimes, Jorn found herself lingering a little longer in the dream circle, just listening and analyzing, for reasons she couldn't bother to give real meaning to. It wasn't as if she dreamed anymore.

The discussions usually went on for hours, when all the kids and young pre-teens were asleep—no one wanted them getting spooked any more than they already were. Honestly, she was shocked not to be constantly tortured in her sleep. She knew she deserved it. For surviving. For doing unspeakable things just to live. She shouldn't have survived.

But here she was.

Jorn lay awake in her shitty cot, eyes glued to the top of the tent, pretending it was a natural cement ceiling. The grey wraps, once white, were still snug around her arms, protecting her skin. The state of her undershirt seemed to worsen by the day. She could hear Del in her ear, telling her to get rid of it and just put on a better one. They had enough clothes for a wardrobe change.

Her pants and extra buckles were on the floor, her loose briefs allowing air to pass through. The poncho was at the end of the cot, along with the thin and shredded maroon wool blanket occasionally used for warmth on some nights. Every weapon was tangled and submerged in the heap on the ground.

Normally, Jorn didn't sleep in such a mess. She was usually tidy and organized for possible emergencies or breaches in the camp. But tonight, she didn't care. If some straggler waltzed in, so be it. Del would handle it.

She was officially off for the rest of the week.

The Onyx necklace that hung from her neck every day was sitting in the middle of her chest, its weight feeling heavier tonight. Some nights, she wanted to rip it off, toss it far away, but the vivid memory of the family she saved held her back.

That day was like yesterday. She was a hero, acting on pure adrenaline. A family was in danger, being chased down for reasons still unknown. But she didn't care. Jorn had a soft spot for families.

When the world suddenly fell apart, things happened. Not just the typical world-ending things, but the debts that were never paid started getting collected. Murder, robbery, assault—it was easy to get away with anything. No one was keeping track of how people died anymore.

That family was just one of many being hunted, probably for sport.

By that time, Jorn's entire family was already dead. She was alone in the apartment, venturing out daily, moving within the chaos and shadows around the city to find anything that would keep her alive.

One scary afternoon, on the way back home from finding supplies, she saw them. A mother and her bloodied, tired children, running for their lives. Two small boys and a girl. Yelling and howling echoed from The Rot and the humans chasing them.

Jorn didn't even think before yelling, "This way!" and took the family of strangers straight to her apartment, running up two flights of stairs and hiding them inside what was left of the home. It was only a few hours of awkwardness, intense anxiety, and fear before it was safe for them to leave.

All Jorn remembered thinking was what they would do if the pursuers found them. They wouldn't stand a chance. At least, that version of her wouldn't.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you."