The Sky Beneath Us (on hold)

TWENTY FIVE

Day 35. 13:05.

____________

Avery sat with Ben in the council chambers, reviewing plans on upgrades to The Settlement’s walls. Construction around the jail had already been completed, and the black area was almost finished. The Builders had been working non-stop the past week, and the Runners had travelled to and fro in the sewers, searching for now-scarce material. Not one reported anything strange, which was a good thing. Meanwhile, the Fighters stood on constant guard. Watching, waiting.

“Those walls are going to be really hard to get through”, Ben commented, “what with the new gate and security checkpoints”.

“Yeah, Richard’s idea”, Avery replied, “seen much of him?”

“Nah, he stays in his tent all day”, Ben frowned, “probably still feeling the resentment about you taking my father’s position”.

“Yeah…maybe”.

Someone cleared their throat, and the two men noticed Becca standing in the entrance.

“Hi Ben, how are you? Avery…can we talk?” she asked, rubbing her hands in a snaking motion and looking awkward. Ben caught Avery’s eye and gave him a ‘best of luck’ kind of face before rising from his chair and tucking it under the table.

“I’ll…go see how Joe is doing” he muttered hastily and speed walked out of the tent. Avery turned to face Becca and then stood up to meet her halfway.

“Avery”.

“Becca”.

He ran his fingers through the dark locks of his hair, racking his mind for the right words. He thought it would be best to explain his behaviour, let her know why he was acting this way, so he started there.

“Look, I know we haven’t talked, and I’m going to explain but-“

“I want to end it. Us” she whispered.

Oh. That was unexpected, Avery thought. It hit hard. It hit home to Avery. He stepped back slightly, unable to respond due to a sudden dryness in his mouth. She stared at him intently as she talked on, yet he failed to meet her gaze.

“I’ve been thinking, and it’s not going to work. Believe me, I want it to. I’m crazy about you Avery, well, I think I am. But right now, we need to focus on our jobs. I’m a Runner, you’re head of the entire colony, like the great leader I told you that you were…”

She sighed before continuing.

“We’re on different paths. The world is dangerous, too dangerous, and I don’t think I could cope if I lost you under normal circumstances, let alone if we were involved at the time”.

“I…I think I understand”.

“I hope you do Avery”, she replied sadly, “I really do. And I hope you feel the same”.

Avery swallowed a lump in his throat, then forced himself to look at Becca’s beautiful recovering features, her deep brown eyes, sleek chestnut coloured hair. This was for the best, it had to be…

“So…that’s it then? Whatever we had, finished?” Avery asked slowly.

“That’s it then” she responded confidently.

Without another word, Becca walked out of the tent, leaving Avery standing there alone to watch her leave, not knowing what to think or how to feel.

***

Day 35. 16:30.

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Corporal Don Hyland of the U.S Army fidgeted with his pistol, which had stopped working. Around him, sat seven other members of the scouting team. They had been sent out from base two days ago, the first team to do so since the world got messed up. They only stayed at HQ, living off rations in the vast basement floors, due to orders. Instead of venturing out and aiding the people they were tasked to protect, they hid. But, the colonel committed suicide. Orders didn’t matter now. A month had passed, the resources were running low, and the couple of hundred soldiers back home needed somewhere to go. And that was Hyland’s mission, search for a new sanctuary. Yet all they found were weirdly mauled bodies and rotten sewer. Morale was low, not just with the team but with Hyland also. Everything had changed.

There came a click.

“S-s-sir?” a voice stuttered from the tunnel entrance. Hyland whirled around, instantly drawing his broken pistol upwards out of habit. PFC Maguire stood shaking with a strange looking, almost futuristic gun pointed at his head. At the other end, a militant dressed in all black gear rimmed with hard metal grinned.

“Hi there”, the man smiled broadly, “my name is Lieutenant James Striker”.

“Of what corps?” Hyland asked unnerved, hand twitching on the broken pistol. Around him, his six other soldiers aimed their guns towards the unknown assailant.

“Oh…none that you aware of” he said condescendingly, “my allegiance is irrelevant right now. What is relevant, however, is the location of your base”.

He pushed the gun closer into Maguire’s temple, who began to scrunch his face up and pray silently.

“So…tell me?”

Hyland’s legs seemed to be rooted to the ground by concrete, yet felt like jelly simultaneously. There was no time to think, and little time to act. Everything depended on the next few seconds. But he couldn’t give away the HQ’s locale.

“No, I can’t” he denied, genuinely worried about Maguire’s fate now.

“I won’t ask again, soldier” the enemy lieutenant retorted, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“No. I’m not giving up that information. Now let him go, nobody needs to get hurt here”.

Striker smiled again, but this time dangerously. Hyland braced to move once he began speaking again.

“Oh, on the contrary. You’re all going to die anyway”.

Black smoke filled the air, obscuring their line-of-fire as a single gunshot rang out and Maguire’s form slumped to the ground. Hyland’s team opened fire on the hidden target, but was quickly met with volleys of return fire – too much for one combatant. Striker wasn’t alone.

More black and metal clad troops filed forward as Hyland’s six were forced to fall back outnumbered. How many of these guys were there?

They were pinned down, cornered. Private Cooper managed to escape the crossfire through a side tunnel. It was a good thing, thought Hyland. If he got away, he could alert the superiors back at base.

“Team! Frags, now!” Hyland roared hoarsely at the top of his lungs.

Only two grenades flew, and the corporal realised with a sickening twist in his stomach that three more of his men were already dead. BOOM, the frags did little to stem the incoming gunfire. Hyland retrieved an assault rifle from one such fallen comrade, Private Jeffries. He ducked under cover, then rose over it, firing in steady bursts of three. One enemy fell with a muffled scream.

Ramos crumpled backwards with a quick groan as a chain of bullets penetrated his vest and knocked him to the ground. Hyland sprinted from cover, firing his weapon blindly as he ran towards his fallen comrade. Trigger discipline went out the door. Right now he needed time.

Right now he-

Three bullets pierced his chest in the lung area, damaging him severely and causing him to drop mid-run. Hyland fell to his knees, feeling his will to live dwindling, and faced the advancing enemy.

“Who the hell are you people?” he sputtered, a thin stream of blood trickling slowly from his mouth.

“Us?” Striker laughed coldly as he placed the strange gun to Hyland’s face, “we’re the Authority”.