Guardians: Protectors of Light

Chapter 2

Picture of Valery 

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As they approached the clearing, Valery took in the vibrant scene. Despite the tire marks that marred the grass, the clearing remained lush and green. Fresh buds adorned the trees, and the birds filled the air with their joyful melodies. Spring had brought a sense of hope to the forest.

Matt's worn appearance spoke of the hardships he had endured during the past two months, fighting for survival alongside others in the crumbling city. Yet, his youthful face and vibrant emerald eyes radiated an unwavering energy. Despite his muscular physique, accentuated by the tight zippered jock jacket, it was his ever-present smirk that softened his intimidating presence.

"Hey, man," Trent greeted as he swung open the car door and hopped out. Matt made his way towards them, a smirk playing on his chiseled face. Early buttercups dotted the ground, and patches of clover peeked through the grass. Tire marks crisscrossed the clearing from sporadic comings and goings.

"Matty!" Valery exclaimed, her grin widening as she joined them.

"Hey, Val," Matt replied, returning her energetic hug.

Trent glanced at his surroundings, his eyes scanning for any signs of trouble. "Got some trouble brewing, huh?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

Matt shrugged, his smirk unfading. "Trouble? Nah. Just another day in paradise," he quipped, his dimples making an appearance. His right hand remained within reach of his blade.

"Paradise seems tense," Trent remarked.

"We lost the mayor. It's only a matter of time now," Matt shared, his voice hushed as they began walking. His steps were cautious, mindful of the shadows that cloaked them. "A military truck came in yesterday and took away about fifty people. We couldn't stop them. Haven't seen anyone alive since. Found the mayor and his wife dead in their home. They were in the middle of packing to run."

Trent's expression turned contemplative. "If they hadn't been preoccupied with their belongings, they might have had a chance," he mused.

Matt sighed. "That's the irony of it. The whole city will suffer because of a few mementos. Sh..." He cut himself off, urging them to stay quiet as they clung to the shadows ahead.

In front of them, a member of the Devil's Own strolls by, dressed in an outfit fit for a dance recital she will never attend. Valery's heart aches for the woman. Her life abruptly halted just before her big moment.

"They're starting to walk openly, no care in the world," Matt comments as the dancer passes. "We don't know how many are here; their numbers change with every truck."

As their feet crunch on broken glass, Valery bends down and picks up an American Girl doll from the rubble. Trent, concerned, chastises her. "I told you not to touch anything."

Valery examines the doll, noting its quality. "I've seen these for sale," she says. "They aren't cheap, but little girls love them."

"Unfortunately, that doll won't bring a smile to anyone here," Matt remarks.

Her gaze fixes on the doll's honey-colored eyes. "Not around here, at least."

"It's filthy," Trent comments as Valery releases his hand to clean the doll's matted hair.

"Cleaning it up won't be too hard. This doll just might help a child smile again."

"It's too late anyhow," Trent says. "If that doll were a trap, you would have triggered it by now. If you feel like carrying that thing, be my guest." He reaches for Valery's hand again, and they continue walking alongside Matt.