Gears of Gunnhild

Chapter 1 - Bang, bang.

The sounds of one thousand and thirty two people echoed through the small hole that served as an entrance to Naomi’s room. Rolling over in her cot, she came face to face with the end barrel of a revolver. She froze and looked at the hand that was holding it.

“Freeze.” Spoke a small, yet giggly voice.

“What are you doing with Dad’s gun Sophi?” Naomi snapped at her sister.

         “Oh, shut up and get out of bed.” Retorted Beatrice as she wandered in and lit the two lanterns hanging from pegs on the wall. Naomi glared at her older sister as she yanked the covers off of her. Beatrice continued, “Get up. I made breakfast an hour ago and I’m not cooking again just because you’re too lazy to get out of bed.”

         “Leave me alone, I’ll make something myself.” Naomi barked as she squirmed in her stripped cot. Sophia, being the youngest of the three sisters, watched as her older siblings did their daily bickering; which always ended in Beatrice getting her way. And as expected, it happened again today.

           Beatrice’s lip twitched slightly and she walked over to where Naomi laid. Grabbing the edge of the wobbly cot, she lifted it up and dumped her sister onto the floor. Naomi was on her feet and in Beatrice’s face after only a second.

          “What is your problem?” Naomi yelled; her hair wild and eyes furious. The only response she got was Beatrice’s smirk and shrug as she turned and left for the other room. Naomi grumbled rude remarks as she rummaged through a small chest that held all of her clothes, her little bit of money, and other personal items. Sophia, seeing that the show was over, hopped down from her bunk with a light thump. As much as she hated it when her sisters fought, she hated it even more when she got caught in the crossfire. She realized just a little too late that she’d jumped down right into Naomi’s path. Not noticing her little sister as she pulled her ragged jacket on, she ran Sophia into the post of the bunk bed.

          Sophia was only eleven years old and was extremely sensitive. She had light blond hair, almost white in certain lighting, with a very round face, and pale like everyone else in the underground city. Her eyes grew round as tears began to fall. Naomi finished buttoning up her jacket before bending down to check on her sister.

          “You okay Sophi? I’m really sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I—” Naomi started quietly as she steadied herself low enough to meet the wet eyed gaze of her little sister. Sophia began sobbing and Beatrice came back into the room. After examining Sophia, Beatrice glared at Naomi.

           “Instead of knocking her around, why don’t you try doing something useful? Gods Naomi, when are you going to grow up a little?” Beatrice lectured. Glaring at her older sister, Naomi rolled her eyes and grabbed the strap of her satchel and put over her shoulder. “You aren’t going anywhere until you clean this mess up Naomi!” Beatrice called as Naomi slammed the door shut behind her.

          Naomi glanced around at the already busy lane that their little pothole of a house was located on. The ceresin lanterns were still burning as they usually were, every twenty feet another lantern post stood, hammered into dirt sidewalks. Sighing, she started walking down the left side of the heavily trodden, narrow road. People nodded towards her sometimes as they passed by or called words of greetings to her as they worked.

          The colony, later named Sable, after the man that had first begun the digging, is located underneath what was believed to have been Chicago, but sadly, most of the people that were alive during the time when the thunder began have since died. It’s been twenty seven years since everyone went underground. The war between countries had started over thirty years ago and since that initial blast by a hydrogen bomb everyone has stayed in their holes. The city of Sable wasn’t as large as it had once felt; it’d filled up with the numerous buildings to house all the people. Naomi and almost every other being in the city under the age of thirty hadn’t seen real sunlight, just the flickering, glowing light of flame from lanterns and candles.

          With nothing to do, Naomi headed towards the Swindle, one of the several establishments where people brought broken items to be fixed. The shop’s front looked as if it’d been painted white years ago, but had long since faded to a pale and drab colour. Where the name Swindle had originally been stencil painted with what looked to have been a light olive colour now looked like a washed grey. Inside the shop stood the shop keeper John, which Naomi liked to visit with.

          Opening the door quietly, hoping to go unnoticed, Naomi stepped through the doorway just as John came from the back room.

          “He-low Naomi,” he called, with his German accent it sounded more like Now-o-me. “I’m just vinishing up in zee back.” Naomi smiled and nodded. John was a relatively busy man. He had business almost constantly and consistently. His work rather phenomenal; he could fix just about anything, from pocket watches to the most complex flintlock pistols. It’s hard to imagine how all that information got into his head. He wasn’t old by any means, but had the face of a very wise old man.

          He looked wearier this morning. He blinked slowly and yawned. Glancing around, Naomi stumbled around in the cluttered little shop, looking over interesting looking tools, devices, and some things that she didn’t know the use of it would be.

          He looked as if he were going to say something but at the same moment the door opened and an elderly man walked in. He glanced at Naomi and his mouth slightly twitched, he then looked to John and spoke,

          “Mornin’ sir.” the man said with a minor accent. After looking the man over, John straightened his back and retorted,

         “Goten tag.”He said after a small pause, “Vhat can I do for you?”

“Uh, I jus’ wondered if my…” he stalled and looked over at Naomi then continued, “…my gadget was ready?”John stared at the man with a suspicious eye. He was a shady looking character with a strange southern accent, like he’d was trying to hide the fact that he had the accent. He then nodded and shuffled into the backroom, not returning for a few minutes. While he was gone the uncomfortable atmosphere grew silent, only to be interrupted by the man’s stiff sighs and grunts. Naomi watched him as he shifted from one foot to the other, tapping his fingers on the glass of the counter. It seemed like he was just going to go back and find what it was he had come for himself when John finally came back to the store front. He apologized for the long wait, but said that he didn’t have what he had asked about. When he saw the look on the annoyed man’s face he called to Naomi.

          “Zee’s girl came in virst, hold on a moment.”

          The man responded with an odd twitch. He moved closer to the counter and pulled something out from under his baggy shirt. Naomi couldn’t quite see what he was showing, but whatever it was caused John to back away a few steps.

          “No. I need what I came here for.” he paused; Watching John from the corner of the room, Naomi could tell that something was really wrong. His eyes were a bit shifty and he was fidgety. What’s going on? Naomi thought to herself. Slowly, cautiously she moved along the wall. John was desperately trying to make her understand something with his eyes, but Naomi was focused on the pistol that the man held.

          Inching along the wall towards the door, she moved as silently as she could. The door was only a few feet from her reach, but the strap to her bag got hooked on something on the wall. His eyes flicked to Naomi, who was frantically trying to release herself. Her eyes met his for what seemed like an eternity, but in that time he turned his body and the aim of his gun. It was now pointing at Naomi and all she could think to do was close her eyes and count the final seconds she’d had to live.

Bang...

Bang.

          After the second shot was fired, Naomi laid on the floor. The searing pain that she felt in her shoulder made tears flow from her eyes. She pictured her little sister, Sophia, crying as she ran out of the house not even an hour ago. How angry she had been with Beatrice; who had just been trying to take care of everything as she always did. She thought about her parents and how much she missed them. It’d been a few months since she’d thought of her Mom and Dad. It made even more tears come out and she wished that she’d have gotten to say goodbye. Her sisters will hear the news later on about how she had been shot by some southern boy who’d gotten desperate. 

Now…now I’m dead. She thought to herself, now I am dead.