Dead End Chronicles (Book 1): Dead End Journal

by Alex San Lyra

  It’s strange. I always thought Stone would have made an awesome guard, especially given his background. He used to be in the military. But nope, he chose to become a scavenger. The scavenging squads go out looking for anything that might help the community. It's a dangerous business, going into ghost towns and abandoned gas stations. They’re the one’s who brought back this notebook and the ballpoint pen I’m using right now. But, knowing Stone, I think he figured it was best to have each one of us placed in a different section of the community. Bibi in the guard, me in a hunting squad and him in a scavenging squad. It’s typical Stone, thinking strategically like that.

  Anyway, back to Flavian. He hasn’t had the chance to speak with me again. We intend to keep it that way.

  Man, it’s freezing tonight. It’s been cold all day long, but damn! That blizzard really made the temperature drop. Looking out my window, Harptown might as well be renamed “Ghostown”. But I’m not here to write about the weather. How lame... Today was hunting day, the day I earn my living. Maybe I’ll just write about that for now...

  So, I got up just before sunrise, as I always do on hunting days. Xandy was sleeping so snug, I felt bad pulling him out of bed so early. Hunting days are rough on him, having to spend the day away from me. He’s quite attached. On one hand, it’s good because he doesn’t wander off, on the other, it’s hard on him when I’m not there. Hunting is an iffy thing. If you’re lucky, you’re back in a few hours, if not, it takes up the whole day. That means a whole day away from Xandy. On hunting days, I always leave him with Bibi or Stone. I haven’t made that arrangement with Singer yet... just cuz Bibi was free today. But maybe sometime soon... We’ll see. There was a sharp chill in the air this morning. The minute I stepped outside, I knew hunting was going to be a bitch. I still remember when we had regular winters, springs, summers... now there’s no knowing what to expect. I mean, winter is still mostly cold but some days it’s, like, arctic out there, other times, I could swear summer was right around the corner.

  There aren’t that many kids in Harptown, and half of them are orphans, like my brother. People sometimes stop to watch us go by. Some of them greet us, others just stare. I try not to be paranoid, but my mind wanders to unpleasant places when people look at us like that. They’re all mostly harmless, but still... it bothers me. Bibi lives in the barracks, with the other guards. I hate that place, it’s always packed with armed men. As I walked up to the entrance, three of them came to greet me. One of them, Doug, even offered to go fetch Bibi for me. They know my hunting day routine. I chatted with the other two for a bit, Sam and Bill. They were just trying to be friendly. I’m afraid of them though, the guards as a whole, I mean.

  Some of them think that they’re the ones putting their lives on the line and, as such, they deserve more... more food, better lodgings, you name it. As if I didn’t take a risk every time I go out hunting, or Stone, when he goes out scavenging. The town meetings always end up in heated debates. Usually, I don't even bother getting into that sort of thing, but recently, it’s been getting worse. I get the feeling some of the guards think they should be the one’s in charge. To be fair, most of them seem to be good people. I suppose Sam and Bill were just eager for a bit of feminine attention after a long cold night on watch duty. Doug is married, but Sam and Bill are single. Even if I hadn’t already known, it’s plain to see. Their eyes give it away, that hunger. Plus, they keep calling me “Miss Brightman”, like they’re constantly making sure I’m single. Some of the other guards were passing around a bottle of whisky, to keep warm, even offered me a sip. I declined. Alcohol turns good men into... well, something else.

  Bibi finally came out, with her usual swagger...

  - - - - - - - - -

  I was standing in front of the barracks, waiting for Bibi to come out. Xandy was at my side. I kept his hand firmly in mine, as he looked around curiously. There were guards walking in and out of the building, moving crates around, shouting orders and doing other such manly stuff.

  Bibi knew how I felt about that place. It wasn’t long before she came striding out to us. “All right, all right!” she cried at Sam and Bill, shoving them aside, “Move along, boys! You’ve already wasted enough of her fuckin’ time.”

  Sam argued, “Jeez! Keep your shirt on, Beebs. We’re just talking here.” He sounded just like Flavian...

  “About the weather, I bet,” she guessed, “Oh, boo-hoo! It was so fuckin’ cold tonight, on watch duty. Yeah, fuckin’ enticing conversation.” She was completely fearless.

  Sam looked like he was about to counter her provocation, but Bill pulled him by the arm.

  “Leave it alone, dude,” he said, “C’mon.”

  Bibi stared them down as they left. It was crazy how they respected her. I mean, she wasn’t someone you’d want to mess with anyway, but even so.

  When they were gone, she turned to me with a victorious grin and said, “Sup Dollface?”

  Xandy started jumping up and down next to me. “Bibi!” he cried excitedly.

  I released him and he ran to her.

  “Xan, ma’ man!” she yelled, “Ready to spend another fun day with aunt Bibi? You know you want to. C'mere you!” She snatched him up and hugged him upside down. “Wait a minute. Where’s his head?” She pretended to look for it between his feet, as he hung upside down. “Where is this little monster’s head? Maybe he doesn’t have one. A critter with no head?!? How can that be?!?” She then flipped him right side up again and said, “Oh, there it is!”

  He giggled wildly. The scene amused some of the guards, as they passed us by.

  “Whew! Holy crappers, little man. You're getting heavier every day," she exclaimed, before turning to me and adding casually, "You know Doll, speaking of growing, you’re getting pretty fuckin’ popular around here...”

  I quickly cut her off, “Not interested!”

  She studied my face for a second and then added, “I hear yah. I’m just sayin’, I’ve heard people talkin’ some shit here and there. With you comin’ up on eighteen and all, they must think you’re fuckin’ dying to get yourself a man. The fuck they know, right? Fuck ‘em!”

  “Yeah,” I agreed lamely, “I’m fine on my own.”

  I knew she was just passing on what she had heard, just so I’d know. She didn’t mean anything by it.

  “Shouldn’t you get going?” she asked me, trying to end the awkwardness, “Go get your hunting BFFs prepped and all that jazz. I’m good here, got the whole day off today.”

  “The whole day?” I asked surprised.

  She leaned in and explained in a whisper, “Called in a favor.” She shrugged like it was nothing.

  “Bibi,” I argued, “you shouldn’t be calling in favors for something like this.”

  But she just chuckled and went on dismissively, “Bitch please. These fuckin’ losers owe me so many goddam’ favors they can’t take a fuckin’ shit without asking my permission. Chillax girl! I know what I’m doing.”

  I sighed, but really, there was no point in arguing with her over these things. I gave her one last glare and then kissed my brother goodbye.

  “I’ll be back before you can even miss me,” I told him, “Promise. Be good with aunt Bibi, kay?”

  “Okay,” he replied.

  I turned to Bibi and added, “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but with this weather...” I trailed off.

  “Don’t sweat it, Honeybuns,” she said confidently.

  “I owe you one, Beebs,” I told her, “I owe you a lot.”

  “Oh, shut the fuck up,” she insisted, “You don’t owe me shit, okay? Now, get the fuck outta here! Go!“

  - - - - - - - - -

  Maybe I’ll show her this little interpretation of her and see what she thinks. I hope I didn’t make her seem too mean, deep down she really is a nice person.

  Hunting was as expected... but I’m getting ahead of myself. First, I’d better introduce my crew.

  Mouse is the oldest. Peter Pointman, a funny name for a fu
nny little guy. We call him Mouse, because of his mouse-like features; pointy nose, big ears and protruding teeth. Also, he’s a whole head shorter than me, even though he’s twice as old. He has light brown hair and dark brown eyes, kinda average looking. Though he doesn’t shine in any particular area, he’s the most well-rounded hunter. He’s the only one I’d trust to go out alone and come back with something for everyone to eat. He joined my dad’s squad, back in the day. Now, he’s one of mine. He’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he works hard and doesn’t give me any shit. I think he’s just glad to be a part of the team. No one else gives him much of a chance.

  Next up is Lexa Donofrio, Singer’s older sister. We just call her Lexa though, no nicknames. She was also in my dad’s squad, the only other female bow-hunter. She’s about Bibi’s age, just under thirty. Unlike Mouse, she has a very specific talent. She’s an exceptional tracker. She says it’s the “spirits” that speak to her. Some people say she’s nuts, but I’d rather follow her instincts than anyone else’s. She looks a bit like Singer, same brown eyes and freckled face. She’s not a ginger though, her hair is brown, wild and wavy. It kinda floats around her, giving her an exotic look. She has a deck of tarot cards that she carries with her. She’s really into all that mystical crap.

  Then there’s Buba, the newest addition to our squad. His actual name is Eban O’Neill, but for some reason he calls himself Buba. We all just follow his lead on that. He’s actually the only one that’s younger than me, about fourteen now. Like Mouse and Lexa, he’s also kinda rejected by the townsfolk, though in a different way... You see, he’s black, one of the few black people in town. How racism is still a thing in the world we live today is beyond me.. Most people don’t even bother to get to know Buba. He’s really a great kid, sharp, focused... Sometimes he can be a handful, getting overexcited about everything, but he never crossed the line with me. Stone found Buba, on one of his scavenging trips, about a year ago. He was all alone out there. We don’t know what happened, he doesn’t talk about it. He lives with Stone now. They’re doing okay, I guess. Buba has been growing dreads. He’s pretty proud of it too.

  There’s also Ian Ranger, but he’s not actually in the squad. He just sometimes offers to join us, at random. Ranger’s an awesome hunter, I’d love to have him aboard, like, officially. But he just does his own thing... kinda keeps his distance. I think he has some kind of “arrangement” with the council, cuz he sometimes goes out alone and no one ever bothers him about it. Ranger is a quiet guy, but not in a cold way, like Stone. He’s more of a “charming loner”... or whatever. Not that I’m interested in him or anything. He is handsome though, I won’t lie. Short black hair, penetrating blue eyes... a witty smile. He was there again today, when I got to the hut.

  - - - - - - - - -

  As I walked in, I found the gang was already there, gearing up. I never asked them to get in that early, they just took the initiative. That’s how it was with them.

  “Morning guys!” I greeted them.

  Lexa, looked at me intensely and said, in her usual mystical tone, “A good morning is exactly what it is.”

  I frowned at her, but didn’t bother asking.

  “Mornin’ Captain!” cried Buba, saluting me, in military fashion. He had a huge smile on his face.

  “Mornin’ ma’am!” Mouse replied as well. But his eyes skipped from me to something in the corner.

  It was Ranger, leaning there on a drawer. “Good morning, Dana,” he greeted me, with a charming smile.

  “Hi,” I replied awkwardly, “You’re coming with us?”

  “If you’ll have me,” he said.

  “Sure,” I accepted, looking around at the others.

  Buba was still smiling at me.

  I raised an eyebrow and told him, “Buba, you don’t have to call me Captain. And you don’t have to call me ma’am either, Mouse. Seriously guys, just call me Dana.”

  Buba protested instantly, “Oh c’mon! It’s way cooler calling you Captain. It’s more... official-like!”

  “We’re not in the military,” I retorted, “In fact, the only reason I accepted that title was because the council insisted someone had to be officially responsible for the squad. We’re just hunters, and you’re not subordinates.”

  Mouse was already done gearing up himself. He was the self-appointed second in command, so he started helping Buba with his gear. “The kid has a point,” he said thoughtfully, “We may not be military, but if we want the other squads to respect us, we should start acting organized.”

  Buba came alive. “Yeah!” he agreed eagerly, “Like the man said! Act organized! Totally!”

  Ranger chuckled, amused with the discussion. He watched me closely, waiting for my reaction.

  I rolled my eyes at him, then looked from Mouse to Buba and replied calmly, “We don’t need to ACT organized, we need to BE organized, which we already ARE. Besides, the other squads will never respect us.”

  “Why heck not?” Buba wondered honestly.

  Lexa intervened on my behalf, explaining it, “Because, Buba, they don’t want things to change, and we are change itself. We’re becoming more efficient than them. How do you think they’d feel if the council recognized our way of hunting and demoted theirs? That’s what they fear.”

  “Damn,” Buba said, taking it in, “I never thought of it that way.” He paused for a moment, but then added, “I still think it’d be cool to call Dana Captain, though. Not because of what Mouse said... just because...” He shrugged, as his eyes dropped to the cracked floor.

  Lexa smiled at me, meaningfully. Mouse just watched us. I could tell he wanted to call me by rank as well, even if just for the fun of it.

  Ranger finally spoke up, “You know Dana, you don’t have to think of it as a military rank. It could be like being captain of a team. Every team needs a captain.” He was just pulling my leg, didn’t even bother to disguise it.

  “Yeah!” Buba agreed, all excited again, “We’re a team and you’re our captain, Dana!”

  I sighed and gave in. “Fine,” I said, “You can call me Captain. Whatever.”

  Buba lit up like the sun popping out from behind black clouds. “Yes sir, Captain!” he cried, saluting me again.

  Mouse smiled pleasantly, but didn’t call me anything just yet. Lexa just laughed pleasantly. I glared at Ranger, but he was too pleased with himself to be bother by it.

  I narrowed my eyes at him and asked, “So, are you gonna start calling me captain too, Mr. Ranger?”

  “Never,” he replied, still grinning provocatively at me.

  It figured. I shook my head at him disapprovingly. Then thought about it for a moment and declared, “Well, as long as no one calls me Captain Brightman, I’ll be fine.”

  “Captain Dana then?” Ranger wondered.

  “No!” I determined, “It’s either Captain or Dana!”

  “I’ll go with Captain then,” Mouse declared, “but only when we’re on duty, okay?” He was sweet.

  I smiled at him and nodded affirmatively. We were all geared up, with bows over our shoulders, quivers at our backs and hunting knives at our sides. Mouse was responsible for the first aid kit. Lexa was in charge of the map and compass. And Buba was in charge of keeping the team in high spirits (he was still in training). I didn’t even know what Ranger was in charge of... being annoying maybe? We headed out of the hut through the back, passing through the archery class shooting range. Mouse was our bike fixer-upper. He kept an extra bike in working order, for when Ranger showed up. It was still dark outside.

  On hunting days, we didn’t stay at the cafeteria for breakfast, we just collected a small ration of dried meat there, for the road. For some odd reason Singer was there, waiting for us. He was wearing a coat that was way too light for that weather, with the hood up and a scarf covering half his face. Only his eyes and nose were exposed. It made him look like a cartoon character.

  “Singer,” I said, skidding to a stop, “What the hell are you doing here so ea
rly? It’s freezing out here.”

  “It sure is,” he agreed, trembling, “I just thought I’d get you your rations.” He handed us four little baggies.

  “Oh,” I realized, “wow, that’s sweet of you, Singer, but you didn’t have to do that, especially in this weather.”

  Behind him, through the cafeteria door window, Liza, the cook, was watching to make sure he had delivered the baggies. There was a guard there with her. Food was a major issue in Harptown, they always made sure no one was stealing or secretly stocking up. I waved at them, showing them the bags. They both smiled and waved back.

  Meanwhile, Lexa was scolding her brother, “You dumb ass! How long have you been out here?”

  “Not long,” his teeth rattled as he answered, “I usually wake up this early anyway, you know that.”

  Lexa and him used to live together, like Xandy and I, but when he turned eighteen, they said he had to move to the men’s common dormitories, with the other grown men.

  “Don’t you have a heavier jacket?” Lexa demanded.

  “I do,” he explained, “but I underestimated the cold.”

  “You think?” Ranger asked sarcastically.

  Singer gave Ranger a strange look and then said, “I didn’t know you were going with them.” He glanced at me and then added, “I mean, that’s why only the four bags.”

  “That’s fine,” Ranger accepted, “we’ll manage.”

  They exchanged a prolonged look. I always got the feeling they didn’t like each other too much, no idea why though. I felt bad for Singer, standing there, trembling.

  Lexa finally barked at him, “Singer, get the hell indoors already! You’re gonna get sick out here!”