by Kip Nelson
“This is all your fault,” David said, “and I'm going to kill you for this, if it's the last thing I do. You're a monster. Right now, I'm going to go bury my friend. Then I'm going to kill you.”
Nick's head dropped to the ground. He thought back to John. John already had been killed. His best friend. He was all alone. It wasn't his fault, though. It wasn't his fault. God, he wished that Backdraft was there.
The pain was almost unbearable. He was vaguely aware of David trying to drag Mikey's body away. Nick didn't think he was going to last long enough for David to kill him. Everything was hurting. This had gone all wrong. He was supposed to have saved the city. He was a hero. Mikey was dead. John was dead. Backdraft was dead. All the people he loved. The city he loved. It had crumbled and been torn apart. Someone else had to put it together. He wheezed as he breathed, and he was sure he was going to die. He never thought it would happen like this.
Then he felt a soft warmth on his face. It was wet, and then hot breath washed over him. It felt just like Backdraft. It was just a dream he thought. It had to be. Backdraft was gone. Still, it wasn’t a bad thing to think of.
As soon as Tanya had freed the dog she ran away to a safe place. Her heart pounded with fear, for she was sure they were hot on her trail. The dog had a sleek black coat and was beautiful, although obviously underfed. That was true of her as well, though. She stopped inside a small building, chest heaving. Through the window she still could see the bridge. She had a feeling the men wouldn't stop chasing her. All men were like that.
“What's your story, boy?” she asked, running her hands over the dog's mouth. Backdraft was an odd name, but somehow it seemed to fit the dog. She'd never had a pet before, but always had wanted one. Her father never had allowed it. At least she had a companion now. She wished he could talk, though. She'd love to know what was going on in his mind.
“I can't believe anybody would have left you. You're such a brave little doggy! I think those men were looking for your master. Yes, they were. I don't know why, but maybe we can find him. I don't know. Do you know where to go?” The dark glassy eyes held no answer. She held his warm body close to hers and enjoyed the feeling of warmth. It had been a long time since she'd had anything close to her.
The road ahead was difficult to navigate, and she hated the fact that she was back in the city. Her father could be anywhere. Every shadow was a place for him to hide. At least she'd managed to save the dog, though. He had suffered enough, although she still was puzzled as to why his master had not come after him. There was one obvious answer, though...that he was dead. Most people seemed to be dying in this world, or struggling to survive at least. It was a wonder she had survived this long, but then again, she had survived a lot in her life so far. It would seem like a waste if she died before she was able to live properly.
“What are we going to do now?” she asked. Backdraft stared at her.
“I guess we could stay in the city, but I really don't feel safe here.” Her skin crawled as though someone was watching her.
“I guess I'll carry on with my original plan and head somewhere new. I made it to the edge of the city once, I can do it again, and this time I have you. You'll be my friend, won't you? It's been a long time since I've had a friend. You can help protect me. I bet you've got a good nose. You can smell danger. Maybe on the way we'll find your master as well,” she said, although she didn't like the chances of that. The men in the camp seemed to think he still was alive, but she wasn't about to take their word for it. When she saved Backdraft, she had been quick. She hoped that none of them had seen her because she didn't want them chasing after her like they were chasing after that man.
It took her a long time to sleep, but Backdraft's presence was soothing. She awoke feeling refreshed, and as soon as the day began she took Backdraft out of their shelter and moved back to the edge of the city. Always being wary of her surroundings she made sure to listen for the sounds of the men. They always traveled in groups of at least five or six and they made no effort to hide themselves, laughing loudly. Behind her the bridge was getting farther away, but she knew the men swarmed over the city. She had to be careful. She knew the most dangerous time was when you thought you were safest.
Still afraid of strangers, Tanya didn't want to ask them for mercy. So, her stomach growled. Her heart went out to Backdraft, though. The poor dog looked thin. Tanya knew she had to do something to aid him. She rummaged around as many houses as she could to see if there was anything left in their cupboards. Sometimes she was lucky and found dusty cans of food in the backs of cupboards. There was no water, though, and she had to drink the juice from canned fruit. There always had seemed to be more than enough food in the city before the solar flare. Yet, now that she actually needed some it was far more scarce.
She and Backdraft moved quickly through the city, sleeping in homes at night, until they reached the edge. Just as they reached the path leading out of the city, however, Backdraft stopped. His hackles rose, and a low growl rumbled in his throat. Tanya didn't know the dog that well yet, but she knew enough to heed the warning. She retreated to a place of cover and was glad she did, for appearing soon afterward was a group of men she recognized from the camp. Backdraft snarled, and his sharp teeth showed. Tanya hoped he wouldn't do anything rash. The men moved forward and said they were on the hunt again.
Tanya wanted to stay and wait for them to get far away, but Backdraft had other ideas. He followed them. Tanya followed Backdraft. Keeping as silent as possible Tanya made sure to keep her distance and stay at the edge of the road. Palpable fear rippled through her body the entire time. All it would take was for one of them to look back at an inopportune moment and they would see her. Then there still was the thought of her father. Tanya tried her best to not to look back because it wouldn't do her any good, but she did anyway. The relief when she saw that her father was not pursuing her only lasted a short time before the fear was back again. The fear that sat at the bottom of her stomach and was as much a part of her as anything else.
She wished she was as brave as Backdraft, who always seemed to want to be getting closer to the men, and only was held back because Tanya was so reticent. Following them up the path she ducked when she saw something fly through the air at the men. They stopped and turned, and then more men ran out. A fistfight ensued. Tanya tried closing her eyes to the violence, but she could not prevent herself from hearing the vicious sounds of the fight.
A loud scream tore through the air. Tanya looked up and saw another man running from the road, only to collapse around another man who was lying on the ground. The other men left in the opposite direction and walked back toward the city. Tanya ducked down for fear that she would be seen. As soon as they were out of sight she ran forward, always behind Backdraft, who sprinted and leaped on one of the men. This must have been the man they were hunting. Tanya stood there as the other man stormed away. She became confused and worried about what she was getting herself mixed up in.
Chapter Twelve
Nick's head throbbed. For a moment he had thought he was dead. Pain lanced through him and it reminded him of before...of the last time this had happened. The last time he had been a victim of a brutal attack by these men. The memories hurt, but he couldn't stop the thoughts from flooding back...
Nick opened his eyes. The world was dark and gray. Everything hurt all over. His head throbbed. His eyes stung. The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth. He groaned softly as he lifted his head and looked around. They all were standing there. Memories of the fight flooded back to him. The beatings he took. The pain. The grunting shouts of the men who slammed their fists and feet into his body. It was a miracle he could stand.
The men had come out of nowhere and attacked them. Nick didn't know why. They didn't seem to have a reason. They didn't have a plan. They were just fighting for the sake of fighting. Nick had wanted to save the city. He'd wanted to be hero and perform his sworn duty, but he was just one man. The city was falling ap
art around him. People didn't care about being heroes. All they wanted was to watch it burn. It was a fire that he couldn't fight.
The smell of fire was near him. So was the sound of it crackling. As he gradually grew more aware of his surroundings he heard the men talking with each other. They cursed. The stench of alcohol was heavy in the air. Their speech was slurred, their footsteps heavy, their laughter loud. Nick heard Backdraft whimper. Anger flowed through his body. They could do anything to him, but if they touched his dog...he managed to pull his head up and look at their camp.
They'd dragged him under a bridge. The tall structure towered into the sky, providing a great deal of shelter. The moon hung over them. Dim clouds passed by, hiding the silvery light. There was a slope near him where trash had been left. The smell almost made him retch. Trash cans had been set up in a line. The men were huddled around them, warming themselves against the fire. Nick had no idea what time it was or how long ago they'd taken him. He did a quick head count. There were more there than he was comfortable with.
His heart sank.
How had they managed to get organized so quickly when he and his brothers had taken so long? Nick and John had been the only ones to make it to the station, even though they had been trained to get to safety. Maybe everyone else was too busy trying to be a hero. He'd seen the state of the city. People were scared. They panicked. When they panicked, they rioted. These men didn't seem scared, though. If anything, they welcomed the new way of the world. They could be themselves, no longer shackled by the laws that governed civilized society.
Nick pushed himself up, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could. Backdraft was tied to a pole. John was near him, looking the worse for wear. Nick hissed at him. John was in a bad way. Blood had dried on his face, and the ground beside him was stained crimson. His clothes were torn, and drool slipped down from the corner of his mouth. Anger festered inside Nick. When any of his brothers were attacked, he was attacked. He wished he could go up to the men and challenge them, but there were just too many.
He looked around for weapons. There were only rocks and bits of debris. Not enough to make any difference against the sheer numbers he was faced with. He spat out blood and hissed at John again. If they stood any chance of getting out of there alive he would need John. Not that his friend looked up to it. Nick looked toward Backdraft. The dog looked back with glassy eyes. Nick tried giving him a reassuring look, but Backdraft always had been an intuitive animal, and he would know that something was wrong.
Being as quiet as possible, Nick moved toward John. Continually glancing toward the men, Nick was relieved to see they didn't seem concerned. They hadn't even bothered to tie him or Nick up. Only Backdraft was restrained. Nick nudged John and tried to get him to wake up, shaking his body and whispering to him lightly. It only was a matter of time before the men saw that Nick was awake. There was a slight chance they could escape. The odds were against them, but Nick wasn't going to sit by and wait to be killed by these men.
John began stirring. He looked up groggily. Nick tried keeping him still. John had been knocked out in the fight. Nick couldn't believe he hadn't woken while the men had hauled them through the city. They'd made Nick walk, even though he barely could stand. John had been carried by two men, his feet dragged across the ground. If John had been awake, maybe they would have been able to fight back. Nick couldn't do it alone.
“What the...” John began.
“Shh,” Nick said, “they've taken us captive. We must be quiet. I think there might be a way to escape if we're quick.” Nick looked at them all laughing and talking with each other.
They acted like this was a vacation. None of them cared that there were people in the city who needed help. They didn't care that the world was falling apart, and that Nick and John were two men who could help hold it together. They didn't seem to care about anything, only having a good time. Since most of them had been drinking heavily Nick fancied their chances against them. If they could create a surprise, maybe do something to distract the men, they might be able to sprint away. He glanced over the rise of the hill. If they got over the hill and away from the bridge, he was confident they could find a back alley somewhere that would take them to safety. Then they could regroup and work on a new plan. The problem was Backdraft. It would take time to free the dog, and time was something Nick knew was in short supply. There was no way he was going to leave Backdraft at the mercy of these men, though.
“Can you move?” he asked while he looked around for a sharp rock he could use as a knife.
“Just about, but it hurts,” John said, wincing. “What's the plan?”
“I have no idea. I don't know what they want,” Nick said. At that moment his eyes found a V-shaped rock shaped in a jagged edge. He was about to reach for it when he heard someone approaching.
“Well, well, well, looks like the sleeping beauties are up,” one of the men said.
He was being flanked by a few others. They seemed to be curious about their captives. Nick stayed low and looked at them with burning anger. The man wore a long fur coat that dragged along the ground and a wide-brimmed hat that was askew upon his head.
“Who are you and what do you want with us?” Nick asked, sidling over so he was in front of John. The man arched an eyebrow and glanced at his companions.
“You're not really in a position to make demands,” he said in a smooth baritone voice.
“Yeah, you tell him Donny,” one of the other men said. Donny glared at him. Nick smirked. At least these men weren't smart.
“It's quite simple really. You beat up a lot of my men. One of them was my nephew. We're just here to make amends.”
“They were where they didn't belong. Can't you see what's happening out there? We're firefighters. We need to help people,” Nick said desperately.
“You don't need to do anything. The world has ended, Mr. Fireman, and it's time for us to shine. You ask who we are? We're the forgotten men. While you all lived in the nice parts of the city, we struggled, living hand-to-mouth, always hoping for that day when everything changed. And changed it has. Look at them, these men are finally free of the society that forgot us. Look at them,” he said.
Nick saw men with tattered clothes, scratchy beards, and rounded shoulders. Some had missing teeth. Smoke swirled in the air and bottles were exchanged. They seemed to live on a diet of cigarettes and alcohol.
“They're finally free. You say you want to save people, but where were you when we were in trouble before? There were days when we didn't know where our next meal was coming from. We had to eat out of dumpsters and dress ourselves in clothes that other people threw out. Although I think you'll agree that sometimes that's not always a bad thing,” he said as twirled in his coat.
“You don't have to do this. We can work together. Maybe we can build a better world.”
As soon as the words were out of Nick's mouth one of the men standing beside Donny stepped forward and kicked him around the mouth. Nick felt blood bloom around his gums once more. He bowed his head and tried not to show any weakness, even though his body was throbbing with pain.
“I'm well aware of that. We don't have to do anything, but the fact is we want to. Finally, after all these years, we can have a say in how the world is run. We can stick it to the man. This is our time to live. Your time is over.”
“What do you want with us?”
“Whatever we want. You're our playthings,” Donny said, and walked away. Nick turned to John, glad that a beating had been avoided this time, although Donny's warning was ominous.
“Charming guy,” John said, trying to laugh, but coughing as he did so. Nick helped him into a sitting position.
“Think you can fight?”
“If I have to, but I don't like the odds.”
“Think you can run?”
“You're asking the impossible right now. But I'll do what I have to do. A few more weeks and I'd have been away from here, Nick. What the hell happened?”
&nbs
p; “I don't know. Nothing good.”
“We must find the others. We must get out of here. Maybe there's still a chance...”
“I don't know,” Nick said.
“I think most of the city is like this. People are free now. They can do whatever they want. Seems like they just want to tear it down.” Saying it out loud pained him. This city was the only home he'd ever known. To see it fall now almost broke him.
“Then it's up to us to put it back together again. That is our duty, right?”
“It is,” Nick said, pressing his lips into a firm smile.
John's eyes grew heavy. Nick looked achingly out into the darkness surrounding him. The city seemed to breathe with fear and festering anger. John was in no condition to run. Nick couldn't leave him there any more than he could leave Backdraft. There had to be another way, but it wasn't presenting itself.
Over the following few days Nick got a better sense of what Donny's men actually had in mind. They beat him and John repeatedly, always challenging the firefighters to fight. Nick and John gave their best, but they always were outnumbered and exhausted, their wounds never given the chance to heal. John bore the brunt of it. He seemed to be their favorite punching bag. Nick tried to get their attention away from John, but it only made them more willing to beat up on him. John was getting worse every day. His ribs were bruised and cracked. He only could see through one eye, the other one had swollen up purple. He wheezed when he breathed and, although he tried to put a brave face on it, Nick knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
The treatment of Backdraft was another thing. They kept him chained to the pole and teased him with meat, always keeping it just out of reach. Nick's heart broke as he saw Backdraft straining, trying to get at the food that was just tantalizingly out of reach. Day by day Nick tried observing the men to find any kind of weakness. There were times when groups of them left their camp to go scavenging through the city. They never brought back any prisoners like Nick and John, though. Nick thought that a small mercy, although he would have liked some other allies. There were always more left than he was comfortable with. They seemed to be going to the city for supplies, and when they returned Nick caught snippets of their conversations. None of it was good. It didn't seem as though anyone was trying to put together a new world. Everything was chaotic.
