All That's Left

Chapter One

I wandered up the road, kicking a rock here and there and listening to the howling winds. On my face, a mask filtered what was left of the good air, the unpolluted oxygen that I needed. The last thing that my teammates wanted was for me to go down and die from the radiation sickness. Who would have thought that after all this time, it still didn't have a name?

My skin was completely covered in a black cuirass, greaves, gloves and boots that left none of my pale flesh to be seen. Especially in this area, if you exposed anything to the air, you'd find it blistering in seconds. It's not a nice experience.

The small ghost town appeared out of the fog, finally. I had spent two whole days on the roads trying to find it, I had encountered enough of the enemy to last a lifetime. Also, I may have described it as a 'ghost town' but there are actually people living here. It's just extremely quiet because they're all inside somewhere. The civilians here don't enjoy a Sunday market or meeting in the park. Those days are long gone.

I couldn't recall the last time I had a drink but I had no doubt that the water in my satchel was contaminated by then. Besides, I couldn't drink it out in the open anyway because I have to remove the mask. I'd had to wait to find shelter away from the air.

Entering the tavern, I closed the door swiftly and anticipated the sucking sound of the decontamination. After what happened a few years ago, people had become very cautious with anything that came in from outside. When it was finished with me, I marched tiredly up to the bar and ordered some water.

The bartended shot me a glare of uncertainty before noticing I was one of the good guys, if you can call us that. I removed my mask and shook my long brown hair out and letting the curls bounce. Clearing my throat, I took a sip from the glass that was placed in front of me.

The moisture of the liquid refreshed my dry lips as I sat on an old, torn barstool. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but at least I wasn't on my feet any longer. The people around me kept giving me looks of concern, like I was going to cause problems. At least, I didn't plan on it.

Two men walked straight in after the hissing of the machines just through the doors. I recognised the tattoo on their arms as they took off their jackets, identical to each other, the flaming arrow. On one of them, the tattoo was slightly red and blistered but the other's was intact fully. They were members of the enemy.

My hand flying to my pistol, I could see signs of fear in the barman's eyes. No-one else could see it but I knew that something was about to happen, so I released the grip on my weapon and waited.

The man with the blistered arm moved behind his comrade as they approached the bar. "Two beers, you know what to do."

"But we're out of the bottles you drink." The bartender tried to make the excuse sound serious.

It failed. "Would you rather I put a cap in your-"

I looked up after hearing the pause to see both sets of eyes planted firmly on me, narrowed to little slits. My expression didn't change but deep down, I was attempting not to growl and launch at them. The uninjured man stomped towards me and dumped himself onto the barstool next to me.

"You're a Phantom." He said blankly without doing anything else. "Who do you work for?"

I spat in his face and resumed to drink my water without any quickened pace. He sighed and shook his head, disappointed.

"I half expected you to be easier than the others, just give me the information I need and we'll let you go." He grinned with a devious glint in his eye.

I chuckled and rubbed my chin gently. "You thought I would be easier because I'm younger?"

"We'll, you're basically still a child. So, come on kid, tell me who's leading you."