Meridian | The Second Life III [COMPLETED]

2 - Reign Drops

- E V A N -

"Hey, Caden," I greet. Battery and our scavenging teams are doing a goods exchange, and so naturally, here he is. "Good to see you."

"You too, man," he responds. "How are things?"

"Doing alright," he answers, popping his neck. "Scavenging is less profitable recently, but you know how it goes."

"That I do," I confirm. "Same story here. It's just been a pain."

"For sure, man," he comments, plucking a piece of paper from his backpack. "Here's a copy of the scavenging route plans for the next few weeks, by the way."

"Oh, thank you!" I exclaim, taking the paper. To coordinate the scavenging runs between the two communities, Caden had created a paper system that we shared. My copies had been lost two weeks ago; I had probably misplaced it somewhere. Thankfully, I'm back in the know now. "I'll try and keep better tabs on these."

"I'll hold you to that," Caden laughs, closing his pack. "Hey, by the way, have you heard from Nick at all?"

"Definitely not," I reply, slightly caught off guard. "Why do you ask?"

He sighs. "Just hoping he had some crazy change of heart is all."

I laugh, shaking my head. "No way. If he ever gives me a second chance, I'd be floored."

Caden definitely doesn't like hearing that, but deep down, I'm sure he knows I'm telling the truth. The last time I'd heard from Nick was after the Battle of Manhattan, at that dinner table. I'd indeed done some horrific shit, but I'm trying to atone every day. Battery had helped me expose Colt's lies to the people of the Sanctuary. I'd volunteered to head this place and steer it down a better path. I wish Nick could just try.

"Well, it was nice talking to you," he says. "I need to go make sure they're doing this right. I'll see you again soon."

"See you then!" I state as he begins walking toward the scavenging teams. He'd really sunk his teeth into the scavenging team; it was his best way to explore. I turn around, heading back to my room. Today was an exhausting day. Security saw sickos closer to the walls than normal, almost like they were scouting us out. Safe to say, no one left the compound.

Opening the cupboard, I pull out a bottle of soda. I hadn't had any caffeine today, so hopefully, this would help. Sitting at my desk, I take a sip. I relish the carbonation fizzing throughout my mouth. Such a good treat.

My attention is drawn upward as I hear steps outside my door. Sunlight from the windows outside illuminates the shadows of feet that stop right outside my door. I wait a few seconds for a knock on the door; it doesn't come.

Something's wrong. Very wrong. I set down my soda quietly as I realize I never locked the door. Shit. Reaching under my desk, I grab onto my pistol, flicking the safety off.

Not a second later, the door gets kicked open, and a masked figure barges in. I see a pistol in the figure's hands; she donned a long gray robe with a hoodie. I quickly duck behind my desk, hearing a gunshot fire off straight into the desk back. So that's how it was.

I quickly peek out from the side, firing a shot straight into the figure's leg. They scream in pain in a clearly female voice. A bullet slams right into her forearm, with one more shot going off. The gun flies out of her hand as she falls to the ground.

Rushing over, I kick her gun away and rip off her mask. It's then I realize that I see a ghost.

Nikita.

"What the fuck?" I exclaim. I hadn't seen anyone from the Circle since the Battle. Nikita was going to assassinate me?

"You...' she mutters in extreme pain. "You picked the wrong side! You'll see..."

I barely save myself from getting stabbed by her knife. Catching it as it flies toward my neck, I flip it around and begin pushing it towards hers.

"This... changes... nothing!" She cries as it creeps closer and closer. "Meridian is almost here!

NO-"

- Z A C H -

I slide into my room in the Battery tower, shutting the door quietly so as not to disturb anyone else. I'm way up high in the building, mostly using its communication equipment. Thank god for Riko - if he hadn't known what he was doing here, I'd have no contact with the two nomads.

When he was working, I had caught something from him about satellites still functioning. They don't need us to run, after all. It makes sense to me. Then again, since it does the job, does it really have to make sense?

eh.

I sit in my old chair, donning my headphones and sliding behind the desk. It's funny how far I can reach with this machine - all the way to the Pacific Ocean - and yet the only frequencies I've heard were from here in the city or near Utica. I can't quite reach Eastern Europe or farther, but I know Western Europe stays silent.

I switch the machine on, letting the setting sun to the west illuminate the entire room. It exposes the floating dust, but I can still see. There has to be some sort of trade-off, right? I take the microphone and switch to our frequency.

"Radioing to Comfort Two in the sunny city of San Jose. This is Comfort One, over," I say into the microphone. We had agreed to talk at least once a week. They're late at this point. Still, it amazes me that they really did go that far.

Everywhere but New York feels so far off now, like a massive travel ban is on everyone except those two. I wouldn't tell Nick or anyone in the group, but I somewhat understand their urge to leave. I've been dying to know what Tulsa is like now, even if I know deep down already. Ronnie only confirmed it.

What I can't understand, though, is how they could ditch their friends. Thank god for Rivian arriving; it really kept Catey from spiraling into depression.

"Comfort Two, do you copy?" I ask loudly. It takes a while to transmit, but they were really good at checking their radio. "Guys."

This would mark over two weeks since I've heard anything. They really did just decide to di-

"Receiving," I hear crackle through the radio. It's Ronnie's voice. My body jolts up as I reach for the radio, in utter shock at the response.

"Holy shit, is that you?" I exclaim, twisting a tuning dial to reduce excess noise. The channel is much clearer now. "It's been two weeks, dude."

"Yeah," he mutters quietly.

"Where have y'all been?" I question, a hint of anger in my voice. I hear a sniffle from the other side of the radio. "We'd thought you'd died!"

"I..." he mumbles, the radio noise nearly obscuring the statement. Something's wrong.

"Ronnie?" I ask cautiously. "What's going on?"

"I failed, Zach," he says loudly. I could hear him crying.

"She's gone."