Remainers

To Those in the Future, Part 17

John slowly opened his eyes. Pain seared through his legs, and while he believed that he'd never be able to stand up, he eventually managed to get onto his knees and look up.

The shelter was unrecognizable. The pure white buildings had been destroyed and splattered with dirt and blood. Bodies littered the ground, and those that weren't riddled with bullets were writhing from a different sort of pain. It was a hellscape, not unlike the ones they had escaped from so long ago.

John finally got onto his feet, only for an unbearable headache to screech through his skull. He felt his pulse speed up and his breathing became ragged. He knew exactly what had happened; his virus had activated, and his life was on a timer.

He searched his battered mind and slowly began to piece together what had happened. Paul Ackerton, who was supposed to be undergoing care at the infirmary, had broken out. He got some of the guards on his side by promising them the opportunity to do whatever they pleased, then gave them guns from his secret stash, which he had hidden even from his own family. They assaulted the meeting with the goal of killing everybody there and taking back control of the shelter by force.

Naturally, the resistance members retaliated. Ramon, whose military training had kicked in, began fighting back immediately. He led a reckless charge against the guards, and while they were armed, the guards had little in the way of resolve and gave way quickly. Once they got their hands on some guns, the resistance began shooting back. Paul and his men quickly ran away, and it seemed like the worst was over.

However, that was not the case. As short as the incident was, it was horrifying enough to trigger the viruses inside of everyone there, and considering the incident alone would have been enough to cause a regular panic, the resulting chaos was simply a disaster. The public began rioting, causing a disturbance that quickly grew out of control.

Those between the resistance and the Ackertons that were still alive had a problem on their hands. On the one hand, they needed to stop the riot before things got out of control. However, these people were nothing more than civilians. They couldn't raise their hands to them, much less use their guns. In addition, their viruses were also affecting their brains, and as a result, their decision-making abilities were even worse as a result.

John didn't know who made the first shot, but it only made things worse. The riot grew more violent, and people began fighting in the streets. The reason didn't matter, nor did the person; an outlet for their fury and panic was needed, and it was going to come out no matter what it took. He had tried to help calm things down himself, but eventually a strong blow to the back of his head ultimately knocked him out.

Not even a full day later, the shelter was in this state. It was like a sight from hell, maybe even more than the surface as it was now. Only a day before John had hope for the future, but now he knew there was no future left in this shelter.

John started walking. He didn't know where he was going, nor did he know what he was going to do, but he just wanted to get away from the chaos however he could. Of course, he had no idea if he really could do that. Though he was the only one in the area who could get up and move around, he could hear the sounds of screaming and shouting in the distance. If there was a place where he could find some peace, he had no idea where it was.

Eventually, he found himself staring at the ladder to the alcove. The one place that belonged to him, where he could get away from it all when the shelter felt too stifling. Almost instinctively, John reached out for the ladder and began climbing it, his muscles screaming each time he lifted himself up.

It took more time than it usually did, but eventually, he managed to pull himself into that familiar little cubby. To his surprise, there was someone there waiting for him inside: Marianne. She looked haggard compared to her usual elegant appearance, but she still seemed well enough as it is. She noticed him as he struggled in, and a wave of relief washed over her face.