by E S Richards
All of her instincts told her Cain had to be a fairly poorly developed mutant like herself from the way he had acted since she’d known him. It was just his secrecy about keeping his ranking hidden that made her suspect he could be more developed than he let on. Twinned with the unpleasant suspicion she couldn’t shake that everything he had done so far was part of an elaborate plan to trick her – although she couldn’t imagine why he would want to do this. Unless he knew she was actually a Zero… Zahyra quivered, refusing to entertain the thought any longer.
The two of them continued to trudge slowly through the desert and all the while Zahyra bit her tongue to stop herself from nattering away in front of Cain. She was worried she’d let some information slip that she wanted to keep private and as Cain made no efforts himself to start a conversation the silence had to suffice.
Zahyra noticed as they walked that the desert sand beneath her feet was becoming less like the fine, smooth sand around Cain’s hut and more dark and dirty. The tiny orange and yellow grains of sand became mixed in with darker flecks of rubble and the texture gradually changed from soft to hard beneath her feet. After several miles they appeared to no longer be walking on desert sand, but more of a dirt road similar to what she had been accustomed to around her old camp.
The surroundings steadily began to alter as well as what had once been a vast nothingness of desert gave way to more trees and broken down buildings. Eventually Zahyra came to the assumption that they must be nearing civilisation in some respect and prayed it was the camp where Asher was being kept – although it had taken them less than a day to reach when Cain had originally said it would take two.
“Where are we?” She asked inquisitively, her throat feeling scratchy and dry both from breathing in the dirty desert air and from not talking for so long.
“Outskirts of some city,” Cain replied, “our camp for the night.”
Peering through the darkness around her Zahyra didn’t feel like they were approaching a city, but sure enough as they continued to walk the miles ahead of them the outlines of more buildings began to rise up in the distance. Many of the ones that remained standing were taller than any she’d ever seen before and Zahyra gasped at the sheer number of them when they were finally close enough to witness the full remains of the city.
Most of the buildings had naturally crumbled to the ground, but what looked to be about a third of the city remained standing. Trees had begun to grow in amongst them creating a sharp contrast between nature and man-made structures. The skyline reminded Zahyra of one’s she’d seen illustrated in books and she scrunched up her face remembering the names of them: Manhattan, Las Vegas, The Big Apple. She liked to imagine she was looking at one of them now, her journey through the wastelands providing her with a little glimpse at ancient history.
Realising she had fallen several paces behind Cain she jogged to catch up with him, passing the shells of cars on the side of the dirt road which gradually gave way to cracked tarmac with faded yellow lines running down the centre.
“What was this place?” Zahyra asked in amazement.
“Dunno.” Cain replied, switching between speaking in full sentences and his monosyllabic drone. “Not safe further in though.”
Cain veered off to the left and Zahyra followed him, wondering why they wouldn’t get to venture further into the city. She was excited by everything she saw and itched to discover what else she could find in the centre of the once incredible city. It seemed to go on for further than she could even comprehend, never in her whole life had she witnessed something on this scale. The camp she had lived in for most of her life had been pretty cut off from society, the larger cities apparently being where the more developed mutants chose to live. Although Zahyra did wonder how a city of this scale had managed to avoid being a target during the bombing many years ago.
Remembering this Zahyra nodded in a delayed response to what Cain had said about it not being safe further in. Of course there would be advanced mutants in the centre of the city ruins and following the experiences she’d had with Generation 3’s, 4’s and 5’s in the past week she certainly didn’t want to run into any more of them.
Moving more quietly now, as Zahyra didn’t want to test fate and had no idea how many mutants or how far in to the city they would be, she followed Cain past more buildings and rubble until he stopped in front of one.
“This looks good.” He mumbled and wandered inside, his hand hovering above his gun in the waistband of his cargo pants. Zahyra assumed this was just a precaution but felt around her waist for the knife that was tied there in case and slowly followed him inside.
The interior of the building they were in was strange. Although it was luckily uninhabited Zahyra noticed, removing her hand from her knife and looking around. They had entered through wooden double doors, incredibly still intact after the nuclear warfare and years of hardship that had followed. In front of them was a straight walkway with rows of benches either side of it. At the front of the room there was the remains of a brightly coloured window, now half shattered and creating a draft running through the room. Below the remains of the window was a shallow bowl on a podium filled with water. Zahyra didn’t understand what this building had been used for, but hazarded a guess at some form of lectures or speeches, perhaps an old meetinghouse like the one they had built in her previous camp. The bowl of water at the front made no sense to her, but so few things from The Before Time did that she disregarded it almost instantly.
Cain walked ahead of her to the front of the room and then sat down on one of the wooden benches. Zahyra followed again and sat opposite him on the other side of the walkway. Neither of them said anything for a while, Zahyra was busy admiring her surroundings. There were a couple of intact windows on the wall closest to her and they were filled with more multi-coloured glass arranged in a way that created pictures. One showed a man standing next to a tree with a sheep beside him; the other featured a woman cradling a baby. Zahyra stared at these with fascination, wondering what they meant and why such beautiful pictures had been created in glass; such a fragile medium. She also wondered what other pictures had been present on the windows that no longer had any glass, particularly the large one at the front of the room. She believed that would have been the most magnificent of them all.
Cain broke her train of thought by offering her some more dried meat. She chewed on it thoughtfully whilst imagining what kind of glass pictures she would create if given the chance. Family was the instant thing that came to mind; causing the tranquillity she had felt admiring the windows to fade as she was brought back to reality by the absence of hers.
“I’m gunna try find more food.” Cain spoke up from the other side of the room. Zahyra turned to look at him and nodded, not wanting to offer to accompany him into the city. The idea of running into advanced mutants frightened her, although she knew she would have to face them sooner or later on her journey. Besides she was enjoying being in that room, it made her feel peaceful for some reason, as if nothing could harm her.
Cain didn’t say anything more to her as he left, although Zahyra did notice him pause once or twice and look over at her, as if he was thinking about talking. Once he was gone Zahyra sighed and tried to relax more in her seat. The wooden benches were hard and unyielding beneath her so she wriggled around to get more comfortable. Eventually she lay down along it so she was hidden out of sight unless someone was standing at the end of her row. She closed her eyes and recounted how her journey had led her to this place. How everything was so immensely different to what it had been just a week ago. She tried to concentrate on Asher, on creating a plan for helping him escape, on what they would do together when they were reunited. But try as she might her mind always drifted back to Cain.
He still dumbfounded her in almost everything he did. She truly didn’t know how to feel about him. On one hand he was often rude to her or refused to engage in conversation. He kept his mutation level and indeed whatever his mutation was a secret from
her almost on purpose, often wearing long sleeved tops in the heat when any other man would want to wear something cooler. She also didn’t feel like she could trust him completely, like there was some big secret he was hiding that she would never find out. That could be his mutation, or something much worse; Zahyra didn’t want to dwell on it.
On the other hand however he had saved her life and taken her into his home where he’d fed her and made sure her injuries had healed. He had come on this journey to find Asher with her and not once asked for anything in return. He was giving up his time for her and there were moments when she looked at him and couldn’t help but smile. Without his secrets Zahyra thought he could be a completely different man, if only she could figure out a way to make those secrets obsolete.
The two opinions of Cain battled in her head for a while, like an angel and a devil on her shoulders. In the end she could reason with both of them and had to accept that he was made up of both parts: good and bad. Although she still believed all his bad lay in the form of secrets, something she had to admit she was a bearer of too and therefore could not judge him too strongly for.
Cain returned about an hour later. He’d managed to forage two extremely old cans of food. Zahyra had no idea where he’d found them as she had only eaten canned food once before when she was about seven or eight and knew they were a rarity these days. Cracking them open she decided it was a good thing they were no longer in popular demand, as the contents of both were oily and unpleasantly flavoured. The first was labelled ‘chicken in white wine’ but didn’t really taste of anything, least of all chicken. The second just said ‘spam’. Zahyra had no idea what spam was and after her first taste of it she resolved she would never eat it again, even in the most dire of situations. Sitting in that cold room Zahyra yearned for her life from just a few days ago, talking happily with Cain and eating wild dog. That moment seemed so distant to her now, the ambiance between Cain and herself less than pleasant.
After this disappointing meal, during which very little was discussed between the two of them, Zahyra went back to the bench where she had been before and lay back down. Her mood had already been distinctly melancholy and the sorry excuse for dinner hadn’t done much to improve it. Wrapping her sweater and jacket around herself she shivered, the gaping hole in one side of the building providing little shelter from the chilling wind outside.
She didn’t understand why Cain had chosen this building; realistically it seemed the least effective hiding place for them to spend the night, although she had to admit she did feel surprising safe there, as if someone was watching over them. Still she cursed Cain under her breath for choosing it, refusing even in her head to give him the upper hand and tucked her legs up to her chest to try and retain more body heat.
At that moment in time the first hand about how she felt about Cain – the devil on her shoulder – was certainly winning out.
Chapter 11
A heavy hand over her mouth woke Zahyra in the middle of the night. Her eyes grew wide in panic and she struggled to scream, the hand over her mouth muting her. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she realised the hand belonged to Cain and raised her eyebrows at him suspiciously. He slowly recoiled his arm in response, but put a finger to his lips instead urging her to be quiet.
Zahyra noticed now that Cain was crouched down in the footwell of the bench where she lay. The room was so dark because the fire they had lit in the early hours of the morning for warmth had been extinguished. There was also an air of hostility about Cain and she realised that there could be no good reason for him waking her in the middle of the night. As if silently understanding that she needed to be quiet and follow Cain she nodded into the darkness and Cain pulled her down off the bench into the footwell next to him. Zahyra nudged him in the ribs indicating that she was awaiting an explanation of some sort for what was going on.
“Patrol.” Cain whispered next to her, panic radiating through his voice. “The fire…” he trailed off. They must have noticed the light from the fire they lit. How stupid of them.
A thousand questions tore through Zahyra’s mind: how many mutants were out there? What abilities did they have? What would happen to them if they got caught? How would they get away…? Hopelessness started to seep through her as she remembered once again how close they were to reaching Asher and how yet again another obstacle had got in her way.
Cain rested a hand on her knee in an attempt to calm her then motioned with his head towards the end of the row of benches where they were hidden. He wanted them to move. Zahyra swallowed and readjusted herself, ready to follow Cain out into the unknown. She noticed he had his knife drawn in one hand and cautiously she reached around her waist and did the same.
She’d never actually used a weapon before and was only trained in very minimal hand-to-hand combat from the few self-defence lessons they’d held at her camp. When it came down to it she was very uncertain that she’d be able to use the knife to physically harm someone, but she knew at least she had to look prepared to do so. She had thrown plenty of knives at animals before, it was just the thought of aiming at something other than her supper that worried her.
The two of them crawled on their hands and knees to the end of the benches. From what Zahyra could hear the mutant patrol approaching them was still outside the building. For a moment she paused and wondered whether advanced hearing was Cain’s mutation but the thought only lingered in her mind for a second, as she knew there were plenty more pressing things to consider at that time.
Reaching the walkway in the centre of the building Cain turned to his right and began crawling towards the front of the room. The entrance was in the other direction so this confused Zahyra, but without a clue what to do by herself she followed him anyway. To her relief he led her to a small door she hadn’t noticed in the corner and pushed through it, extending to his full height once he was through.
“What’re we gunna do?” Zahyra asked in a whisper, using the wall to steady her as she too climbed to her feet. The passageway they were in was darker than the main room and Zahyra struggled to see Cain who was no more than a foot away from her. She thought there must still be about an hour until sunrise and didn’t fancy spending it trapped in this confided space.
“We need to go through the city.” Cain said sounding stern but still slightly unsure of himself. Zahyra started to protest but felt his hand land on her arm, silencing her. “They will try to surround us,” he continued, “starting from the outskirts so there’s no easy way out.”
Zahyra bit her lip when she heard this, realising it was of course the smartest way to capture something. Cut off their way out and they’re forced to wander further into the trap. It’s a method they had used back at her camp for trapping rabbits and other small game. Terrified, she realised they were now the game that was being hunted.
“At least you’ll get to see more of the city,” Cain smiled into the darkness. Zahyra knew he was trying to lighten the mood but nothing could dampen the panic and fear she was feeling.
“Let’s go then,” she finally replied, just wanting to get out of the dark passageway as quickly as possible.
They walked in the darkness for about five minutes, following the twists and turns of the passageway as it led them deeper into the centre of the city. Zahyra walked into walls and bumped into the back of Cain many times, unable to see anything in her surroundings. Cain, to her surprise didn’t trip once, just as he hadn’t in the forest the day before. She again wondered if his mutation allowed him to see in the dark or whether he was just skilled in sensing what was in his way. When they reached the end of the passageway she heard Cain stop in front of her. She could see his knife still gripped tightly in his hand, illuminated by the faint moonlight from outside.
He edged out of the exit and peered in all directions around them, checking for any sign of mutants in the near vicinity. After a minute he declared the path to be clear and ushered Zahyra out of the passageway behind him.
“Don�
��t make a sound,” he whispered, “and follow me exactly.”
Zahyra nodded, her fear multiplying now that they were out in the open. As her eyes readjusted to the moonlight she gasped in amazement at the buildings that surrounded her. On all sides they rose higher than most trees she’d seen, light reflecting off the few windows that remained intact. She didn’t have time to admire them for long however as Cain took off in one direction and she jogged behind him to keep him.
She didn’t know where he was going or what would be waiting for them along the way and winced as she realised once again she had to put all her trust in Cain whilst she knew absolutely nothing herself. She knew they had to be quiet but he could have at least told her something about what their plan was.
They weaved through side streets past broken down cars and abandoned buildings, both crouching low as they jogged trying to minimalise their figures. Zahyra couldn’t help but marvel at the buildings as they went, each new one fascinating to her in the design or style. Even the paint, despite it being cracked and faded amazed her by the array of different colours it came in, causing her to almost wish it was daylight so she could see them and the city in their full glory. It still confused her how the entire city had been left practically untouched by the bombs.
Suddenly Cain stopped in front of her and knelt down to the ground pulling her down with him. She started to open her mouth to ask what was going on when she saw two mutants crossing the street in front of them through the broken back window of the car they now hid behind. Her wonderment at the place they were in instantly vanished and was replaced again by the icy grip of fear she was growing so accustomed to. Slowly Zahyra reached around her waist again to withdraw her knife, which she had reattached to her body as they manoeuvred through the streets.
