After the Fall

by E. C. Myers

  It was hard to pretend you didn’t hear someone when they spoke in your head.

  “Be right there,” Velvet said. I hope.

  She ran alongside the tunneling mole crab, struggling to keep up with it. It was hard enough to run on sand without its surface swelling and swirling in the creature’s wake. Then the front half of the monster burst from the desert.

  So they do get bigger, she thought. If those other crabs were babies, this could be their parent, easily three times their size, and three times as angry.

  Velvet pushed herself to go faster, cutting ahead of the crab as its forward end dropped to the ground, practically on top of her. She looked up and saw the claws preparing to grab her.

  Velvet quickly dove forward onto her hands, then pushed off and back. Her feet slammed against the bottom of the crab and she fired bullets from the tonfa blades on her forearms away from it. Her momentum and the recoil from the gunshot blasts carried her and the crab back up off the ground.

  When she kicked off of the creature’s underside, it tipped up onto its rear legs, while Velvet landed clumsily on her hands and knees.

  The giant mole crab balanced precariously above her, waving its claws almost comically. Velvet gave herself a running start and launched herself at it again, this time face-first. As she flew through the air, she twisted her body into a corkscrew and locked the arm blades forward, all while shooting at the crab’s soft belly.

  The bullets started the job, and the spinning blades finished it, spewing briny fluid and guts everywhere.

  Everywhere.

  The crab’s shrieks set Velvet’s teeth on edge. It fell backward, already dead by the time it hit the ground. Velvet felt the body’s tremors still as she climbed out of the hot, gory mess she had made of its belly, trying not to gag on the awful stench. The hard-light arm blades faded away.

  She jumped off the carcass and surfed down a crest of sand, skidding to a halt in front of the now half-exposed wagon.

  Velvet knelt in the sand, coughing and trying to catch her breath. Yatsuhashi was the first to reach her.

  “Ugh. You okay?” He covered his nose and mouth. “Why didn’t you wait for us?”

  “Couldn’t.” Velvet coughed. She gestured urgently toward the wagon.

  “Oh.” Yatsu strode forward, grabbed the front of the wagon, and heaved. He grunted and grimaced, straining and sinking to his ankles in the sand. Then up to his knees. But the wagon slowly slid free of the ground. When he held it aloft, sand streamed out of it from the open cabin and wheels. He carefully righted the wagon and eased it down.

  Coco and Fox arrived. Velvet glanced back and saw her teammates had cracked the other crab open like a nut.

  Fox put a hand on Velvet’s shoulder. She nodded. “I’m fine, but I could use a bath.”

  He wrinkled his nose.

  “Hello? Anyone in there?” Coco called.

  “Here.” An older woman with spiky gray hair and a leathery face poked her head out of the wagon. “Thanks for the rescue.”

  Yatsu helped her down gently. She was stocky and short, half a foot shorter than Coco, but she looked rugged, like most Vacuo nomads. The woman cradled her left arm, which looked to be dislocated at the shoulder. “And who might you be?” she asked.

  “We’re Shade Academy’s newest star pupils. Team CFVY. I’m Coco, and that’s Fox, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi.” Coco pointed out her teammates.

  “Slate. Nice to meet you all.” The woman ran her fingers through her hair, sending sand drifting to her shoulders. Velvet realized that her hair was light brown, not gray.

  “How long have you been out here?” Coco asked.

  “A day, maybe two?”

  Velvet handed the woman a canteen and she sipped the water slowly. “We were fleeing the Gossan settlement after a Grimm invasion. Just when we thought we were in the clear, we found this oasis had dried up and those crabs had moved in.”

  “Your family just abandoned you here?” Velvet asked.

  Slate shook her head. “No family. Not for a long time.”

  “What about the other survivors, then?” Yatsuhashi asked.

  “They survived, I hope. I can tell you’re new here.” Slate looked them over, taking in their outfits. Most Vacuans wore simple, light-colored tunics and linen cloaks and head coverings for crossing the desert. But Team CFVY had to strike a balance between staying cool and being combat-ready, and their clothes were a reminder of where they had come from, who they were. Something normal in their lives when everything was very much not normal.

  Besides, Coco would always choose fashion over sensibility at the drop of a beret.

  “Surviving is what we do here, or don’t,” Slate went on. “We look out for one another, but if it’s down to your life or someone else’s, you choose your own. No hard feelings.”

  “You really believe that?” Velvet asked.

  Slate shrugged, then winced and grabbed her shoulder. “What I believe is my own business, but if you’re smart, you’ll heed that advice. At any rate, the survivors fled, and I couldn’t leave the wagon—when I took even a step, the crabs woke up. They use vibrations to find prey, but they lose interest the moment you stop moving.”

  “You couldn’t have mentioned that?” Yatsu glared at Fox.

  “Where’s the challenge in tiptoeing around our enemies?” Fox said.

  “Fortunately, I had this broken wagon,” Slate went on. “I stayed with it and hoped for the best.”

  “That’s us,” Coco said. “The best have arrived.”

  “And I’m glad for that. I didn’t want anyone else dying on my account, but if someone was gonna show up and distract those crabs, I’m glad it was Huntsmen like you.”

  “We did more than distract them,” Fox said.

  Velvet still couldn’t believe that Slate’s friends had left her to die in the desert. If that was the way of life out here, that was one more thing to dislike about Vacuo.

  I wish we hadn’t come here, Velvet thought, not for the first time. Probably not for the last.

  Professor Port had ordered a mandatory evacuation to a safe zone northwest of the city, and General Ironwood had made it clear that there was no shame in leaving.

  “You have two choices,” he had told the students at Amity Arena. “Defend your kingdom and your school. Or save yourselves.”

  For Team CFVY, there was no question: They were going to stay in Beacon as long as they could. There were still defenseless people trapped and hiding throughout the city, and a steady flow of Grimm to dispatch.

  The only question was whether Velvet would stay with them, or go to safety on her own. They stood in front of the last transport ship while they debated.

  “I’m already way better,” Velvet said. The on-site medics had patched her up. Her muscles were on fire, her body felt like a giant bruise, and her head was throbbing … but she was tougher than she looked. Tougher than anyone gave her credit for, even her own team, apparently.

  “I’ll be back to normal after a good night’s sleep,” Velvet said.

  “Which you aren’t likely to get here, fighting Grimm,” Coco said. “Go, Velvet. You can rejoin us after you’ve rested up. We’ll still be here.”

  Velvet crossed her arms, recalling Ruby’s parting words to them. “Don’t split up your team, Coco.”

  Yatsu nodded. He wanted Velvet to be safe as much as anyone, but he figured the safest place for her was close to him. And he certainly didn’t want to miss out on the Grimm-bashing action at Beacon.

  “We won’t be a team if you’re dead,” Coco said.

  Velvet looked hurt. “You don’t think I can hold my own.”

  “You’re injured.” Coco held up a hand before Velvet could protest again. “And you used all your best photos.”

  Velvet whipped out her camera and snapped a photo of Coco.

  Coco lowered her sunglasses. “Cute.”

  Velvet stuck her tongue out.

  “But you know what I mean,” Coco said.<
br />
  “Hey, we have to get going. They’re gonna close the air space soon,” the air-bus pilot called.

  “Give us a minute, flyboy,” Coco snapped.

  “Coco,” Fox said. Coco looked at him—they each did. Fox spoke aloud only when they were in mixed company, or when he really wanted people to listen. But that was all, a gentle admonishment to their leader.

  Coco sighed. “I’m tired. Not thinking clearly.”

  “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said today.” Professor Glynda Goodwitch strode toward them. “Port told me you were insisting on staying. I’m here to convince you otherwise.”

  Coco straightened. “With all due respect, Professor, if you’re staying, so are we.”

  Glynda hid a smile. “Is that so?”

  “We’re students, but we’re still Huntsmen,” Yatsu said.

  “Huntsmen in training,” Glynda said. She looked back at the fallen school wistfully.

  “Huntsmen don’t run,” Coco said. “Even in training.”

  “We’re sworn to defend those who can’t protect themselves. And this is our home,” Velvet said.

  “I assume there’ll be some sort of extra credit for staying,” Fox sent.

  Glynda studied each of them, no longer trying to hide her smile or her pride in them. Team CFVY, all of the students who had defended Beacon this day, were a testament to what Beacon stood for. They were every bit the shining inspirations, the sources of light in a world filled with darkness, that Professor Ozpin had hoped they would be. He had staked his reputation on his ideals, put his life on the line countless times to uphold them.

  And if he had given his life in the end, as it seemed he had, it was even more important for his trusted followers to pick up where he left off.

  Glynda could certainly use all the help she could get to keep the peace while she rebuilt the school, brick by brick if she had to.

  “Velvet, go to the medics. See if they can find you a bed to rest in,” Coco said, taking her cue from the professor. “We’ll come back and get you at dawn for another sweep of the city.”

  “What are you kids doing out here, anyway?” Slate asked. When she noticed Coco frown, she held up a hand. “Everyone’s a kid to me. Didn’t mean nothing by it.”

  “Shade Academy received a distress call from Gossan. Professor Rumpole sent us to help,” Coco said.

  “From Gossan?” Slate said. “We haven’t been able to talk to Shade since the CCT went down.”

  The Cross Continental Transmit System had been offline since the attack on Beacon Tower, which also housed Vale’s CCT Tower, cutting off communication among the kingdoms of Remnant. Wireless communication still worked within Vacuo thanks to support towers relaying signals across the continent, but it was spotty farther away from the CCT Tower at the Academy. Sandstorms also tended to cause interruptions, and the smaller towers were often lost to Grimm, further breaking down the network.

  “We think someone must have hardwired directly into the Gossan support tower, which boosted the signal strength enough to reach us,” Velvet said.

  “Must have been someone clever, then. Did you get a name?” Slate asked.

  Coco shook her head. “The transmission was faint, but we heard Gossan was under attack, and survivors were going for Feldspar. We were on our way there before all this.” Coco swept her hand out.

  “That was the plan,” Slate said. “Feldspar is the closest big settlement; it has a small oasis, and another CCT support tower.”

  “Good, then we should be able to report back to Professor Rumpole and update her on our status,” Coco said.

  “My status is hot, tired, and hungry,” Yatsu said.

  “You forgot smelly,” Fox said.

  “I’m trying to ignore that,” Yatsu said, “and failing.”

  “When we get to Feldspar, we can probably take care of most of those problems, at least temporarily,” Slate said.

  “Then let’s get you to your new home,” Velvet said.

  Slate smiled tightly. “The only home you have in Vacuo is the people you keep close. Don’t forget that.”

  “We’ll get you back to your people, then,” Coco said.

  The ones who abandoned you, Velvet thought. Some home.

  “One moment.” Slate climbed back into her wagon. A moment later, she emerged with a large canvas pack on her back, a sturdy walking stick, and a scary-big knife.

  “What’s that for?” Yatsu asked, eyeing the knife.

  Slate gestured at the giant crabs baking in the desert around them, already being covered by the drifting sand. Unlike the Grimm, when you killed an ordinary animal, even one of an unusual size, it left behind a body.

  “We can’t let this food go to waste,” Slate said.

  “Food?” Velvet covered her mouth and tried not to gag.

  “You’re kidding,” Coco said.

  “Mole crab is a rare delicacy,” Fox sent.

  “Rare because those who hunt the mole crab usually end up feeding the mole crab. But five of them were no match for you!” Slate laughed. “We’ll just scoop the meat out of the shell, pack it in sand, and we’ll be heroes in Feldspar. There are a lot of mouths to feed. At least I hope there are.”

  Velvet felt sick. “I’d rather fight another crab than eat one.”

  “If we take much longer here, you might get your chance,” Coco said. “Come on, team. Let’s help, but make it quick. The sooner we finish, the sooner we’ll be safe at Feldspar.”

  “I don’t know how safe we’ll be,” Slate said. “Something odd’s been going on.”

  “What do you mean?” Coco asked.

  “Let’s just say we aren’t one big happy family lately. Not anymore. But there’s time for that later. I’m taking the big one. Looks like she might be carrying egg sacs.” Slate scampered off toward the dead mother crab and then carved out a hefty chunk of meat.

  “Gross,” Velvet said.

  “Dibs on the legs,” Fox shouted. He ran off after Slate, arm blades out.

  “Even after all the time we’ve known each other, sometimes Fox is a complete mystery to me,” Coco said as she watched him hack off a gigantic crab leg. “I didn’t figure him for a leg guy.”

  “He’s different since we got here,” Yatsu said. “Vacuo is his home.”

  “If it’s his home, then why did he leave?” Velvet asked. But there was another unanswered question she’d much rather be asking: Why did we have to leave Beacon?

  Coco stayed back until her team and Slate entered the makeshift walls of the Feldspar settlement. She lowered her sunglasses and took one last survey of the sweeping desert landscape behind them.

  It was just past twilight, and the full moon hung low over the horizon, giving the sand a silvery glow. It was actually kind of pretty, but dangerous things often were. Coco wasn’t sure if the moving shadows in the distance were wildlife, lurking Grimm, or the desert sands shifting in the starlight.

  Coco had learned that the sand was in constant motion, but even Fox didn’t know exactly why or how; for instance, their trail, only a few minutes old, was already disappearing. Vacuo seemed like a good place to go if you didn’t want to be followed, if you wanted to disappear yourself. It was also a good place to go to die, unless you were strong enough to survive the extreme temperatures and the even more extreme dangers.

  Coco pushed up her glasses and rejoined the others, shaking off her apprehension about what might be out there. There was always something out there. She relaxed slightly—not that she would let anyone notice—now that Velvet, Fox, and Yatsuhashi were safe inside the nomadic settlement. Of course, “safe” and “inside” were relative terms, she realized as she took in the makeshift village.

  Coco’s dark glasses made her seem casual and aloof, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Her whole appearance was carefully cultivated to give her an edge over opponents and classmates alike while, of course, looking fashionable. She liked that the glasses hid where her attention w
as and what she was thinking until she wanted someone to know. Plus, they looked damn good on her, though didn’t everything?

  But underneath all that fashion, Coco was studying everything around her; silently sizing up everyone, sometimes not so silently. And Feldspar was a dump.

  The so-called settlement consisted of scattered tents, trucks, vans, and squat adobe homes haphazardly arranged without any visible defenses. There was no way it could ever compare to Beacon, let alone any village in Vale; there wasn’t even a lookout tower, or any sign of guards patrolling. Well, that was what Huntsmen were for, right? That was why Team CFVY was there.

  Coco nodded. She always felt better when there was a job to do.

  Then it hit her, what was so odd about Feldspar. A moment later, Fox’s thoughts echoed her own.

  Where is everybody? Fox asked.

  The sand was smooth, packed down from the collective weight of people walking over it all day, every day, for months. But fresh footsteps were visible, suggesting people had been here recently and cleared out in a hurry.

  Coco held up a hand and looked around. Fox, Yatsuhashi, and Velvet nodded at the familiar signal to stop and listen. They froze. Then, in the still night, they heard a slight rustle of clothing. Gentle breathing.

  “They’re all around us,” Fox sent to the team. Coco caught Slate’s eye and moved her hand in a circle.

  Here we go, Coco thought.

  “Come on out, folks,” Slate called out. “These are my friends. I vouch for them. And they’re Huntsmen to boot. Good ones.”

  They waited. Slate raised her walking stick.

  “Slate!” an excited male voice called out. And in a blink, the courtyard was bustling with people, swarming toward Slate.

  “You’re alive, you old so-and-so.” A tall man with dusty hair, dusty skin, and dusty clothes grabbed Slate in a bear hug.

  “She seems popular,” Fox sent.

  “So why’d they leave her?” Velvet asked.

  “Bast, put me down or that situation might change,” Slate said in a strained voice.

  “I’ll put you down on the condition that you never pull a stunt like that again,” Bast said with a laugh.