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After her short pep talk, Angel without another word turned about to resume her walking, placing the mask back on her head. Although she spoke with her usual boldness, Ben noticed her shaking hands. She was human, yes, but this seemed to unease Ben more than before.
However, he could no longer think on such things. His heart began to pound as he saw Angel put down her bag and pull out a rifle, all black and cleaned... like nothing he'd seen before. Angel examined the bullet chamber, lingering on one knee before forcing herself back up. She then veered sharply to her left, approaching a barren green area. Through trees that once must have contained foliage could now be seen a thick brown door, blending into the exceedingly large boulder that contained it. Without a word Angel motioned to the side of the boulder, so Rachel and Paul followed her instructions by dragging the sleds noiselessly behind the door and its encasing.
Ben's heart began to sink into his stomach, seeming to slow down yet pound harder. Gradually he could feel his cheeks become red as Angel stepped closer to the door. Once she was nearly to the threshold, she scanned those behind her. At seeing their reluctance, she softly beckoned them to line up behind her. Although he had no recollection of moving, Ben ended up right behind her. After a moment she turned to him and spoke warmly, "Just act natural. You're gonna be alright."
During what seemed like an eternity, Angel stretched out her hand to a pad on the side of the door. Lifting a covering to reveal a faded and illegible keypad, she began typing. With each button she touched, a small clicking sound accompanied it, seeming to echo into the empty air. After an exorbitant amount buttons were pushed, a green light flashed three times before the sound of unlatching came from the door.
Someone out of the corner of Ben's eye flinched at the sound, but he refused to cease staring at the door. Angel stared a moment before actually moving towards it. One step to the side, a turn of the knob. She opened it with a creak from age, revealing behind nothing but darkness.
Into the abyss she stepped, all others reluctantly following behind. As Ben entered last, the door behind him shut harshly, the sound echoing loudly through what he could only assume to be a hall. Hushed steps echoed as well, that sound being the only thing to remind him that he wasn't abandoned. Just to reassure himself, he stretched out his hand in front of him to feel a shoulder. The shoulder immediately jerked away from him with fright. He was not abandoned.
Further and further they walked for what felt like ages, although he would later discover that they walked for five minutes. However, as his eyes began to adjust to the dark, he could perceive in the short distance a faint light gleaming up from a stairwell. Down they ascended, his heart beginning to pound louder in his ears. Suddenly he felt as if they were entering his tomb.
The light was soon shown to be from small, dim lights on the roof of another short hall leading directly to a larger door. The door was made of oil and dirt stained metal with a large window in the center, so dirty that one could not see the other side, as well as a big red wheel beneath. This door Angel approached without hesitation, her posture suddenly becoming straighter. With great effort she turned the wheel, causing it to echo once more through those chambers. Then with a final click, the door was opened.
A light like that of the sun seemed to burn his eyes at first, then slowly his vision returned. They stepped through the threshold to reveal a world unlike anything they'd seen before. Large fields stretched on for miles from left to right, all illuminated by large, clean light fixtures on the exceedingly high ceiling. They were on a cement sidewalk that lead straight through the fields for a few hundred yards before reaching a tall, white gate, smooth, with barely a smudge of dirt.
Although all perceived and marveled at these things, none dared to move their heads to look about. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but not them. What was most curious to Ben, however, was the lack of people about. He had expected them all to be burrowed in droves as opposed to what appeared to be an empty field. All was quiet save for the slight hum of a ventilation system.
None wished to move forward, but the ever unending sense of necessity drove Angel on; the rest followed reluctantly behind her. A few figures stood in the distance. They weren't in hazmat suits, but in regular clothes which appeared old and dirty. They still wore gasmasks, however. The few men and women seemed to glance apathetically over at the group of teenagers, almost interested before returning to their work in the fields. Ben felt their momentary gaze pierce through his clothes as if they would somehow know that they didn't belong there.
Angel strode in confidence, yet she remained casual enough to make it all seem natural. Reaching the gate, she pulled out an ID card and scanning it at a small black panel where the opening was. Ben could only see it for a split second, but the picture looked nothing like her. None of that bothered him at the time, being how his heart dropped further as a small buzzing sound echoed through the vast fields. The door of the gate opened slowly, a slight creaking sound following subsequently.
He had expected a number of things. He expected the whole community to be clothed in hazmat suits alike, all hiding their face and proving that none contained an ounce of humanity in them. He expected everything to be pristine, expensive and luxurious. He could have seen them all being adults in business suits and dresses, proving that they were some evil corporation that took over the world "for the sake of humanity," as he had read in so many teen fiction books as well as many political thrillers. Or perhaps even seeing the American or Russian flag, all to prove that maybe the governments had gone corrupt and decided to destroy the planet with the press of a finger. No, what he saw was much worse: the lighting was pale, yet it was freezing cold compared to the fields. Things were not pristine, but looked as if they once were, but time wore it all down and no one was left to fix it. The ventilation system seemed to have broken, being louder than a hum. He didn't see a flag, he didn't see men in business suits of any kind... he didn't even see much of a community. Men, women, and children alike were strewn about the paved underground streets in thick, tattered clothing. All were either toiling away with some trivial chore, as others gathered around fires that were built in flame retardant buckets that were once as bright as the gates. This is what would have been classified as a slum.
The group moved forward slowly, all apparently in shock by what they were seeing. All were in shock except for Angel. She seemed to take things in for one moment before rushing forward once again. She hoisted her duffel bag closer to her person before heading through the dispersed groups of people. A young boy in a thin scarf and large coat walked up to Ben with a large smile and held out his hand. "The sun burns the wretched," he recited passionately.
Ben was flummoxed by this statement; he had never heard anything like it.
Angel turned her head quickly before holding her hand up in the same fashion. "And the night keeps the wealthy of mind," she responded quickly.
The young boy looked at her, seemingly satisfied by her answer. He whipped his head back to Ben whom he began walking beside. "Did you step on any cockroaches today?" The boy's eyes lit up with wonder at the question.
"Not today," Ben responded after a short pause.
"Bummer. My brother was hoping to have some fun. He gets frustrated when he can't have any fun."
What kind of fun?
"Get lost, kid," Angel cut in without showing any emotion. "Go find your mom or something."
The boy scowled at Angel, indignant with every fiber of his slight being. His fists clenched, and Ben could have sworn they were shaking. "Mama's dead thanks to you people," he sneered. "'Come help us cure the broken world and you can have a better life,'" he quoted. "What a joke." He huffed before running off. Ben glanced at Angel whose head was still turned to see the boy. She appeared stunned in what he could make out of her countenance.
They continued on, continuously feeling piercing stares directed at them. Eyes were sharp with distain for those in the hazmat suits. This was not the reception Ben had expected.
YOU ARE READING
Angel Among Roaches
Science Fiction-COMPLETED- After devastation rained on the earth, communities were formed that designated scavengers to find food and drinking water. All communities had coped with the dangers of their new reality. All had fallen into the same routine. That is, un...
