by Marlin Grail
Its thickness, its very putrid colors—that are translucent and blended with the darkened smoke—make it impossible to see the barn, the mountains, or the environment we're in. All we can see is this clustered haze, and C. standing in front of us, relaxed. “I told you I have eyes. They can spot people at a distance, even through heavily-forested areas.”
“Well, have you been doing any research on your immunity to it?” Will asks him.
“Today I did. I tested these one's abilities to find you. If I'm not mistaken, they seem to have improved on their senses. They saved your lives just now. Don't thank me, or say anything about it. Your silence will be graciousness enough.”
The answer seems to have dismayed Will, for he abruptly asks him another question. “I mean, what good does this do for us? We know we're not immune, or at least we're not going to try and find out, so how does 'strengthening their senses' make us feel safer?”
We've seen C.'s behavior change when we sound more aggressive towards him. Try and not challenge his temper, Will.
C. doesn't answer Will, but instead continues talking to me. “Gary, your group has succeeded today, and overall. The better you do, and the longer you survive, then the more rewards you gain, but also more responsibilities as well.”
“It's noted you want us to keep it actively known that you wield power over hazes.”
“Exactly! Don't question it! Just see it for what it is!” his enthusiastic voice forces, seeming as though lingering anger is below the surface for him, but he's holding it in. “We're done here. I'll let your group continue settling in to the swing of things, but… since I think you're starting to grow on me, I'll let you in on a secret.”
“What secret would that be?”
“There's more than me.”
“I'm sorry?"
“No more questions. Like I said, don't question it! Just see it for what it is!”
The next gesture he offers is for us to start moving. He flicks his hands repetitively, making it apparent he wants to watch us drive off. I start the engine, watching his every movement.
He lets us in on his secrets, but I know he still holds many we know nothing about.
I am ready to go on the accelerator. “Gary, make sure you're in reverse!” Lissie cuts through.
My drowned focus emerges back to the moment, and I quickly slam on the brake. The truck only moved slightly forward, which did make C. step back, but he once again takes me by surprise for only a noticeable laughter fills his lungs.
“I'm sorry, C.! That wasn't on purpose!” I hurriedly say into my radio.
“It's alright... I know you wouldn't have actually had the balls to do me like that.” He responds with his tone growing more scornful, but all said with a smile remaining on his face.
I give a shaken nod, and pull the shift to reverse, backing out. Now, away of the combined hazes, I look forward to see his figure, but it's not visible, and we're not even 15 feet away from him. “What. The. Hell.” Ashton says, staring out of his window.
I drive off from this bumpy terrain, getting us onto the solid road. Lissie then starts talking, sounding dispirited, “He's just going to keep us on edge, isn't he? He's going to constantly trade radios with our supervisor, and make it to where we're unable to expect anything he'll do next?”
“If that's the case, then it's because he finds us more... entertaining.” Will comments, having a tone of being gloomy.
Janice comes in, keeping herself collected as best as she can, “Guys, we are still on his good side. We've done nothing that solicits a war on him.”
“What made you think we would try, especially now?” Will says, perturbing everyone with his tone. “That man is mad, but he's also mad with power! He's taken our freedom, he's toying with our emotions, and he's practically taking our lives!”
Now, I must make a statement.
I slow the truck to a stop. “That is not how it is, or it's going to be, Will.” I firmly tell him, looking directly into everyone's eyes while I speak. “This apocalypse took our way of lives, but not him. This world altered what we find acceptable and not, but it has not taken our actual lives. He may have changed what we do with our days, and who our enemies are, but he hasn't, nor will he take our lives. If he tried, then I'd be willing to rebel against this whole infrastructure of his, but, if or when that day comes, we must keep as we have.”
My group is taken aback by these stern words, but it is prudent for all of our welfare.
“He's expecting us to still be getting used to this act, and we're getting leniency, so far. I say this, out of worry, that if we don't sharpen ourselves, regarding this priority in our lives as we have for other things we've done such as surviving, then those things we've persevered over won't mean much.”
The time I wait for a reflective response by one of them doesn't come. Will only sighs. Lissie, who I can tell is being reticent about how she feels from my explanation, just nods in understanding anyways. Ashton glues his eyes to his door's window, and Janice bites her lip, looking down as she replays what I shared. “It's a start.” I conclude, revving up the engine once again.
Epilogue
The rest of our day has little external obstacles that bombards our concentration, but it doesn't mean there are no obstacles ahead. For several days, I examine what thorns keep this group from reaching its absolute potential.
Will and I still have reconciling to work on, and he often times only wants to talk when he's absolutely bored. “This path won't clear and fix itself, Gary.” He had said, while we were shoveling dirt to create a trail for C. groups to walk on.
Yeah, and just the same can be said for internal healing.
Ashton keeps to himself what he shouldn't, and I worry for if that cooped-up energy might release through a rash action—like he did at the free-clinic. “I won't do that again, Gary. It would take a grandiose instance to get a reaction like that out of me once more.” He had answered, while we were on mandatory shooting practice issued by our supervisor.
There might very well be one coming, Ashton. We can't predict them.
Janice has little trouble improving what she finds a limitation to her true strength, but I can see she secretively puts more weight on her shoulders, and, because of it, the less satisfied she becomes with what she's capable of doing. “You said it yourself, Gary, that we always have room to improve.” She was saying, as we took time to have mandatory meet-and-greet with other C. groups.
Yes, but, at the end of the day, if you feel less enthusiastic versus when you first woke up, then is it really improvement?
Lissie—with our emotions for each other growing stronger since the night of our 'semi-consummated' intimacy, and ever more since then—has had trouble keeping division from being evident partners outside of the shelter. As for me, it is the same difficulty. “Do you find this hurtful, Gary?” she had asked, touchy to the topic.
“I want this to work, Lissie. Because we have this privilege to have each other, we have to work harder to not let it disrupt what threats are threatened by our privileges. We must be able to cloak it, so we don't broaden its appearance to enemies.”
There have been several pronounced moments I've let my emotions for everyone here cloud my ability to keep the line drawn from being a friend, a lover, and a leader; that being said, I don't see it necessary to not allow myself to still feel for them.
Feeling is what has kept us sensible, resourceful, but most notably, alive. I'll keep implementing that need to have more special moments with each of them—more appropriately though. While these days may grow similar—gambling with uncertainty to what we'll bare face to next—it's still best to have a sense of each other, so we don't become, shall I say, the 'eclipse' to the rotational sunrise and sunset I want to see before and after each assignment.
Those special moments calm me from the barren world, which now I know is based on humanity's reaction to it changing. It's filled with coldness, and filled with craters—indents with new civilizatio
n being rooted by none other than us. We are under the belt of C., working for the riches that this infrastructure confidently waves in front of us.
It places meaning, letting us work out our struggles, weirdly enough providing purpose that way. My band's unanimous inspirational motto was 'Them the glamorous, and we the dysfunctionals'. The way I see it, this spectrum inclines we are the dysfunctionals, laboring for the glamorous lifestyle that they influence in us—whether it's wanted or not. What we can do, at this point in time, is just think about tomorrow.
About Author
Marlin Grail writes his thrilling stories for the response of suspense. The confines of his creative mind know no boundaries, just like his actual life. He currently lives in Georgia, but enjoys the idea of being one who travels throughout his life. Most of his time is devoted to physical activity, along with anything else creatively-productive aside from his writing. When relaxing, he finds comfort in reading, watching shows, and spending time with his friends and relatives.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter I
Chapter
Chapter
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Epilogue
About Author
