Burning Skies

Chapter 8 - Addie

Stanley cast his mind back to his tiny little house in Copenhagen, when he was 7. Ever since the disaster struck, he had his small, happy, quiet life to live. No apocalypses, no mass starvation or rebellions. Just a happy Danish life. But - there was this one girl that freaked him out. Weird didn't do it justice, fankly. Adélaïde Bellamy was an interesting soul. By day she was your ordinary, crazy girl, but there was another side to her. A different side. She saw numbers, flashing across he field of view. Big numbers, ranging from 4 to 12 digits. The most common? Well, there wasn't one you'd strictly call 'common', but there was one number that seemed to appear a considerable amount of times. 12212019. Adélaïde didn't have a lot of friends, frankly. No one could blame 'em. It's kind of awkward having a friend that broke out in number fits. Yet, she seemed to be attracted to Stanley. Not in a romantic kind of way, almost in a sister aspect. Stanley didn't mind, really. He tended to zone out when she had fits, returning to what he does best - thinking. Stanley smirked back in reality. Even when he was 7 he still thought. Nothing as advanced as now, granted. But thinking is still thinking, even if he was lacking in the gene pool in some aspects.

It was his birthday, and Stanley was slightly sceptical about inviting Adélaïde, just in case her fits ruined the celebrations. Alas, he thought he may as well invite her, as not to cause problems, especially with her being unpredictable. Like a flood, almost. Celebrations and other things of the sorts seemed to be going well, but Stanley could sense something was going to go wrong. Being the thinking type, Stanley was fully aware that something was going to go wrong. As if on cue, Adélaïde layed her head on the table. She had complained of a headache earlier, but after being offered some antibiodics, she turned them down, claiming she would be fine. Oh how wrong she was.

Stanley had never seen Adélaïde have a fit before, only heard stories of the such, some vague at best, others horribly graphic. Stanley's parents had warned him with sincere, yet serious warning that if Adélaïde was having a fit, that Stanley should immediately contact an adult. Stanley took this seriously, but with a hint of shock. He and his parents never really got along - even if he was 7. Arguments between Mom and Dad echoed around the house, but they hardly involved Stanley. Being an only child, he considered himself lucky in some cases - others not. Adélaïde was there for him though, as a protective sister. Warming him wth comfort in hard times. But when she mysteriously disappeared, just before her fits, Stanley felt a little bit isolated. Not particularly lonely, more away from everyone.

When the fit struck, Stanley was taken aghast in shock. Frozen in place, he desperately looked around his room for someone, anyone who could help. After realising that it was just the two here, he immediately turned and dashed downstairs. The initial sight of the fit in motion was horrendous in itself. Crimson foam leaked from the mouth as she murmered seemingly pointless numbers, her body was shaking violently, and her arm seemed to be bent in a position that seems physically impossible to Man. Dashing downstairs, he attracted puzzled looks from parents, and some of the other, older kids. Glancing around, he looked for his parents or Adélaïde's parents - but to no avail. Looking around, there was a mixture of faces, now plagued with curiousity with this brand new emotion. Names clicked in his head as recognisable faces appeared. Gwyn Trent, Davieid Alderwirueld, Jack Wilson, John ---

Back in reality, Stanley blinked as his senses regrouped. Lord Time graced him with luck, as Mary was just now climbing out of the ladder hole. Stanley greeted her with a grasp of her hand and hauled her up onto the hot ground. Her pack buldged, but wasn't particularly heavy though. Stanley guessed it was personal belongings, and decided not to question it, after an eyeball from Mary.

"Right then," Stanley began. "where on Earth are we going to go?"

"West." Mary replied, with a firm voice. Simple, but effective. It would work.

"Ok...that it?" Stanley questioned, unsure of his partner's choice.

"Yes, if we travel west we're bound to bump into someone. Not everyone is dead here, surely? Whether it'll be rebels, if there's any left, bandits, wanderers - hell, even a hippie will do me good. The thought of being alone on this world, just two of us..." Mary said, then seemed to ponder, staring into the distance.

"Well, wouldn't it be ironic if we were called Adam and Eve? The last two people on Earth named after the first two people on Earth." Stanley said with a smirk. That brought a smile from Mary at least. "Anyway, let's not chit-chat here and get our head's baked - lets go west." Stanley finished, shouldering his pack and headed out across the bare land.

Hours past, and no sign of life. This place reminded him of the cracked sand in deserts. Near no life. Just wasteland. Rations were sustainable, but weren't abundant. Sips of water here, nibbles elsewhere but things weren't infinite. Ever since they had escaped that fire hole that used to be their home, until Dylan got his hand on it, they had relied on rainwater and drops of dew underground, but rainwater was unbelievably scarce. They were lucky if they got rain once a month, let alone a week. Stanley and Mary relied on each other, pulling one up when the other falls down.

They walked for miles, repeating the same routine. Rest, eat, drink, rest, eat, drink. After 3 days and a close call with some burns, they finally stumbled across the settlement that wasn't theirs for months. Sure - it was empty. Or so they thought. After exploring, splitting up to cover more area quicker, Stanley heard a thump and the drawing of a gun. Suspecting the worst Stanley crept towards an empty doorway. Preparing himself for the worst, he dashed around the doorframe and immedately froze. Mary was there, standing there completely fine. Stanley opened his mouth to call to her but shut it again. There was a look in her eyes - it was unnatural. Abnormal. Fear. Hairs tingled on his neck as Stanley swiftly turned to find a gun pointing at this chest. Eyes on the barrel, he slowly looked up to find a woman. Possibly 20 with surprisingly clean clothes. Heels clopped as another woman came from the shadow of a collapsed ceiling.

"Well I'd be damned." Said the voice, with a familiar ting to it. "If it isn't Stanley - long time, old friend." The sharade of the woman approached the bright liht in the floor, with a barrel pointed at Mary. Stanley blinked as he dug into his memories to try and get a name, a face, Anything. Then it struck it.

"Adélaïde." Stanley said.

Adélaïde cracked a grin as she walked towards him.

"Welcome, Stanley. We have a lot to catch up on."