by Jeff Olah
The corpses of their attackers were burned and buried in the fields north of their new home. The long-standing ritual took place as evening came and Sarah’s family was welcomed with a hot meal and a warm bed. They shared a roof and four walls with another family until their newly constructed residence was complete and District Nine expanded once again.
Her twenty-third year had come to a close before she met him. The confidence with which he strode earlier that day as he carried her father over one shoulder was mesmerizing. His actions in saving her family were heroic, yet understated. Rath appeared to exhume pleasure from coming to their rescue while also finding anguish in ending a life, even though the choice was already made.
This man, four years her senior, couldn’t have been more captivating, so much so that it most nearly scared her. Slightly over six feet tall, his lean muscular frame and purposeful gait bled confidence so freely that at times it bordered arrogance. Was it not for literal destruction of the planet years before and the constant reminder of the cataclysmic fall of humanity, you’d think his life was without defect, as evidenced by the vast amount of time he spent with a smile plastered across his face. He was without a doubt the one person that others gravitated to and he wanted her… more than anything. He told her every single day.
Their first conversation took place just as the last of the embers began to cool on the night he saved her father. As the others drifted off to their perspective homes and those charged with keeping watch went about their duties, he stood and moved to Sarah, offering to help her to her feet. “I hope you and your family will be comfortable tonight, no need to worry, we’ve got this place well-fortified. You’re safe here, so sleep well.”
Brushing her hair from her face, Sarah mirrored his smile and nodded. “Thank you again for helping my father. Without you and your friends… well, I just don’t think we would have—”
“Don’t think about it another second. We are all family here and I’m sure you and your family will fit in nicely. There isn’t one person behind these walls that wasn’t in your positon at one time or another. We have to work together to survive in this new world and we are more than happy to have you here. Just remember that when I piss you off someday, because I know I will.”
Sarah was truly puzzled. “What do you mean, who could you ever—”
He exhaled slowly and nodded his head. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on and sooner or later, I’m bound to do something or say something stupid in your presence. I’m hoping you remember this moment when I do.”
They both laughed nervously as the warm flow of embarrassment covered Sarah’s face. “I guess we’ll have to see about that, although I still don’t know your name. I think that may be the first step to sweeping me off my feet, don’t you agree?”
“I apologize… my name is Benjamin Rath. You can call me—”
“Rath,” Sarah said. “I like that name.”
. . .
Boots outside her door and two seconds later, the lock disengaged. Sarah sat up straight on her cot. “Rath, I miss you… I need you.”
6
Progressing toward the rear of the facility, the distant footsteps fell away at nearly the same rate as his ability to navigate the narrow hallway. Doors on either side, not a stitch of illumination as he reached the last archway on the right and walked in. Obviously used for town hall and city council meetings, the three level concourse seated ninety-nine, as evidenced by the occupancy limit placard along the side wall upon entering.
The exit sign hung above the opposite doorway just beyond the massive semicircular desk once occupied by the city council members. Rath imagined the last official discussion to take place behind these doors surely dealt with the devastating number of new residents that flooded their small town. Without a real solution to this problem, he was sure the meeting ended in a heated battle as residents left the building not knowing they only had days, if not hours, to live.
He softly sat Chloe in one of the chairs along the front row and squatted next to her. Not yet fully awake, Rath nudged her shoulder and glanced back at the doorway. “Chloe… Chloe, we need to go, but we also have to be very quiet. Can you do that?”
Her eyes slowly parting, she used a balled fist to rub away the remaining sleep and smiled at him. “I’m still tired. I just want to—”
“Chloe, we have to go. Promise me you’ll keep quiet.”
“I promise. Where is Symon, is he coming with us?”
“No, he has to stay here with his family. Let’s go.” He reached for her tiny hand and she obliged. “We’re gonna run, so I’m going to carry you until we get outside, then I need you to stay with me… Okay?
“I will.”
Voices from the lobby grew as shouts from Symon’s wife and son filled the halls. The individuals coming for Rath, obviously not pleased with the wrinkle in their plans, took a brief moment to demonstrate their displeasure before moving on.
In between his pleading for mercy, Symon sought to redirect the pointed anger of the men now clutching tightly to Elle and Logan. “I SWEAR… HE’S JUST DOWN THE HALL… IF YOU GO NOW YOU CAN CATCH HIM. YOU PROMISED MY FAMILY WOULD BE—” Symon’s voiced trailed off as the wailing from his wife began.
He reached the exit door and set Chloe on her feet as the sound of movement grew closer, indicating his pursuers had taken the bait. His heart raced as he realized the panic bar was locked in the open position. With no time to determine what this meant Rath leaned into the door and with one hand made sure Chloe stayed in his shadow. He whispered, “Stay behind me.”
The men who’d come for him were now entering the concourse, Rath forced the door open and pushing aside the snowdrift, moved out into the cold. The pulsing wind pushed at their backs as Rath hurried to the opposite wall, drove the awkward metal dumpster in behind the door and with Chloe, started for the street.
Reaching the parking lot, the full moon directly overhead was almost too brilliant to ignore as it illuminated the city from one devastated end to the other. Rath once again tightened the shoulder straps, lifted Chloe and jogged through the knee deep snow toward the fire damaged building the sheriff once called home.
Passing the town’s one and only bus stop, Rath glanced into the Plexiglas backdrop as the reflection exposed the first three men pushing aside the dumpster and turning into the alley. From what he could gather by the spot they seemed to be focusing their attention on, he and Chloe had yet to be noticed. He weaved through the forgotten vehicles, including two torched patrol cars and rounding the rear of the building, stopped and set Chloe back on her feet.
“Mr. Rath, are we almost there? Almost to my mom?”
“Almost…”
Craning his neck around the edge of the building, he could see the men who now numbered four, fanning out into the street. The force of the wind so great that their tracks were covered over long before their pursuers could begin to track them. Rath turned back to the rear of the building, his breath freezing as it left his mouth, and charted his path out of town and into the mountains.
Moving along the outer limits of town meant he’d not only have to watch for the men, who at some point would pick up his trail, but he would also have to navigate the uneven terrain buried under two feet of powder. Staying in the shadows of the many structures that made up Extinction meant a closer proximity to the men chasing him, although it would make for a more predictable route. “Chloe,” he said. “You’re doing really good. I’m proud of you. Can you run a little bit more?”
Her nose and cheeks escalating to a bright red, she looked out over the snow packed rear lot. “I think so, but I’m really… really cold.”
“I am too, but I promise if you do this for me, we’ll get back to your mother by the morning.” He wasn’t sure if he was lying to her or not. The Patch was so close that on a good day, and without the massive storm they were attempting to survive, Rath could be at the rear entrance within an hour. Today conditions would at
least double that estimate and although he’d faced much worse situations, they’d be lucky to make it by sunrise.
The biting chill instantly began slowing their pace as they started for the wall between the sheriff’s station and the former mayor’s office. Making their way through the back lots of the buildings that lined Main Street, they began to fall into a rhythm. They’d run through the empty lots as quickly as possible with Rath’s head on a swivel. Upon reaching the next six foot wall, he’d help Chloe to the top, hop over himself and help her down the other side.
This was working… until it didn’t.
Eight buildings passed and six walls scaled, they reached the open area behind the town’s only book store and noticed the four men standing on the sidewalk in front of the bank just before the men noticed them. Less than one hundred yards separated them from their attackers and before he was able to form a single syllable, three of the men were in a dead sprint, a mess of arms, legs and white powder.
The fourth man, standing off to the left didn’t run. Instead he stepped into the street, dropped his hand to his side and in raising his right arm, pointed at Rath and Chloe. An instant before the silence was broken, a spark of moonlight reflected off the object he was holding. It had been more than eighteen years since he’d last heard that sound. His initial emotion was curiosity, although something deep inside said fear was a more appropriate response.
The parking block at his feet exploded in a cloud of concrete shards and fragments of ice. As the second round left the weapon, the muzzle flash brought his memory to present day. He knew what it was, although couldn’t understand how or why.
The last gun of any kind he’d heard fired was the one that killed his father, and if memory served, Emerson Boothe was nearing the end of his armament. How were there still functioning weapons left after more than two decades? Who were these men? Were they a separate society that had also survived the end of times, or were they simply an extension of the people who’d taken his wife?
At the moment, answers to these questions held little significance and as shots number three and four were fired, Chloe had already begun to scream. Despite the fact that not one of the rounds came any closer than the first and although the man firing on them was a terrible shot, Rath wasn’t about to wait around until he emptied the weapon before taking action.
7
Had Symon actually contacted those men? And if so, why hadn’t they simply come while I was near comatose and flat on my back for more than twenty-four hours? As he ran, Chloe pulled tight to his chest, his mind attempting to put the pieces in their proper places.
The group that converged on City Hall hadn’t arrived in one of Boothe’s transport drones, or for that matter anything resembling transportation. They’d come on foot, in the middle of the night and less than an hour after Symon had confirmed his identity. Rath was sure Symon somehow brought them here, although there was no real way to deduce how or why, and at this point it didn’t really matter.
His boots were once again saturated in what felt like buckets of ice water. The incessant hammering as each foot slammed into the earth only exacerbated the pounding of his heart as he forced himself to increase his speed. This worked for a few hundred yards until his inner voice stopped talking and his mind went quite. He was near his limit.
His three pursuers, much less agile in the snow, hadn’t come within twenty yards and the man with the weapon must have called it a day once he’d spent his last round. If there was some way that Rath could keep this pace, he’d lose the men before heading into the narrow trails of the foothills leading to The Patch, although there wasn’t.
Out of the last parking lot belonging to an antique store, he moved into the street and onto Fallen Oak Drive. Just beyond the six blocks of residential homes, the area of greatest destruction, he was able to make out the city limits. Outside the block walls at the end of Browning Avenue, he’d still have another three hundred yards out in the open before benefiting from the cover the foothills would provide.
The muscle fibers of his upper leg intermittently cramped as they attempted to flush the lactic acid from his prior adventure. Each step more excruciating than the last, he focused only on the task of moving beyond his current position.
His lungs begged for mercy as he turned and continued up the frozen wasteland that was Prospect Avenue. He spoke to Chloe only in short bursts and only when his exhausted lungs permitted him more than a mouthful of breath. Her arms around his neck and watching the men who trailed, she responded in kind.
“Chloe… closer or farther?” Rath said.
“Two are farther, one is closer.”
“How close?”
“I don’t know?”
“One house… two houses away?”
“Maybe one or closer.”
“The other two?”
She took a moment; Rath could hear her counting as his heart pounded in his ear, nearly drowning her out. “Four, five, six… six or seven, I think.”
“Amateurs!”
“What?” Chloe said.
“Nothing… thank you.”
The block wall less than a hundred yards off, Rath again begged his tortured body to move beyond its limits. Gritting his teeth, he continued forward, asking Chloe to let him know if the man closest to them came any closer. Over the howling wind and the chattering of her teeth in his ear, he thought he heard her agree.
As they reached the city limits and his arms began to cramp, he decided not to put Chloe down and instead summoned the necessary strength to set her atop the six foot block wall. Before turning, he dropped his pack into the snow and pulling free the metal pipe, noticed a trail of black smoke lifting out of the foothills nearest The Patch.
In one movement, he gripped the pipe and twisted to his left a half a second too slow as Chloe shouted something incomprehensible. The quickest of his three trailing adversaries hit him like a ton of bricks.
As they exploded backward into the block wall, the air fast escaping his lungs, Rath dropped his weapon and apparently his attacker was also unarmed. The smaller and much stockier young man jumped to his feet and removed his gloves, motioning for Rath to stand. Rath pushed away from the wall, got to his feet and turned to Chloe, who appeared mesmerized.
Hand to hand, he thought. This should be interesting. Stepping back a pace, the younger man reached into his waistband shaking nervously as he did. Rath lunged forward, nowhere near full strength, and the man simply side stepped him and pulled free a pair of handcuffs, the likes of which he’d yet to see.
Standing once again, Rath turned back and squinted into the storm. The two men yet to join the party were now more than ten houses back walking slowly, hunched over and not making much progress. Rath pointed at the cuffs and began to chuckle. This time he moved slowly toward his rival and in a straight line. “Son, you better hope you brought more than what’s in your left hand, cause if you’re thinking about taking me all by yourself, you’d be better off just walking away… while you’re still able.”
Biting his lip, the smaller and at the moment much quicker young man lowered himself and didn’t break eye contact. “Sir, just put these on and let us take you to him.”
Rath took another step forward. “You really must have no idea who I am.”
“Yes Benjamin Rath, we know who you are and what you are capable of, the problem may be for you. You have no idea who we are or why we’ve come for you. We are the danger here, not—”
A right hook to the face ended the diatribe and sent the man back onto his heels. As Rath moved in, the man dropped one of the cuffs onto his left arm before tumbling to the ground, blood streaming from his left brow.
The others, now five homes back, began to jog as the intensity of the situation ratcheted up a notch, light powder kicking up in their wake. Rath turned back to the young man lying in the snow and watched him begin to stand. “Boy, you’d better get this thing off my arm. I really have no problem with you, but I’m about to.”
/> The young man ignored Rath’s request and instead turned in the direction of his approaching comrades and back at Rath, attempting to grab the cuffs. “You don’t understand. We are not here to hurt you. I just need to escort you back to—”
Rath closed the distance between him and the young man until they were nearly nose to nose, the stench of his breath understandably violating the space between the two. “Too late.” He brought his hands up quickly and shoved the young man backward into the snow as his pals closed to within fifty feet.
Before his pursuer could react, Rath scaled the wall and pulled Chloe down the opposite side. Scanning the landscape, he had three options for making his way through the massive boulder field that lay dead ahead. The most direct route through the area was also the most treacherous. This steep ascent would take them straight into the black smoke lifting off the hillside little more than halfway to their final destination.
