Fallen City

Chapter I
Fallen City
 

Friday, 24th June 2016

Only now am I able to begin my account of what is happening. After sailing from my home country with several hundred other refugees cramped onto the same ship, I find myself wondering if this is the beginning of the end or maybe an opportunity for mankind to change its ways and start over. Or maybe it’s just the end.

Eleven days have passed since the incident that shunted the world to chaos. Millions of people have died from the direct impact of the meteors, and then millions more from accidents caused by explosions and riots. Before twenty four hours had passed, all citizen phone lines and satellite signals from the Americas and the British isles had ceased. Breakages in power lines across the affected areas were left with nobody to tend to them, cutting off yet another resource. Every able body that wasn’t looting or hiding was called upon to help injured survivors, but there weren’t many of those.

After a few days, emergency broadcasts ended without any real explanation and sheer terror engulfed us. Conspiracy theories about terrorists and government experiments were being yelled left and right while everybody was struggling to try and stay afloat amidst the mayhem. Many families headed for the nearest ports and docking yards, hoping to get a place on one of the ships heading to anywhere by where they were but it wasn’t long before rumours of volcanic eruptions and earthquakes came from as far as Europe, Asia and even Africa. Nowhere was safe.

Hysteria spread like wildfire. With more than half of the globe’s population dead and countless others injured and on the verge of death, the rules that once kept humanity in check were no longer a priority. Society had lost its hierarchy. Everybody within reason left their jobs to plan for the unforeseeable future, stashing away supplies and fortifying their homes as they waited for the worst. They had no idea of what the worst really was.

By the fifth day, smoke and ash laden the air caught in the atmosphere shut out the majority of the sun, leaving the climate several degrees colder than before, even to this day. Soon, crops will die and moods will become more sombre – just like Winter Melancholia; If it keeps up like this, the masses will lose even their will to carry on.

Along my travels, I’ve seen factions beginning to form amongst those unlucky enough to survive thus far. Groups of willing bodies attempt to go out and scavenge what they can, and then take their loot back to whoever else is cowering at their hideout and sorts of ‘villages’ are becoming clearer. It’s becoming increasingly so that these rabbles end up meeting opposing groups in their searches for food, and it’s even more increasingly so that the interactions lead to desimation.

Some realize they don’t have the stomach to use the weapons they carry around when it comes down to it and run at the first chance they get. Others are becoming competent and unaffected by having to use said weapons. Over the next couple of weeks, I’m suspecting that the situation will go from bad to much worse.
 

Monotone skies drown out most of the sunlight, causing a strange ecru hue to cast over the grey buildings of the unfamiliar land. The echo of thundering footsteps chased after a pair of shadows down a narrow alleyway littered with debris and knocked over trashcans. The pair running for their lives searched for an exit in panic amidst the bulleting rain.

Three days ago, the duo had arrived on the same ship in the small European city that was being used for refugees of all colours and creeds. There was no camps set up – or at least there wasn’t any more thanks to a specific group running through and destroying it and robbing supplies. Everything had been trashed and it was clear that it was now everyone for themselves. But to her, leaving a blind girl alone in a time like this was forfeighting your very soul.

Taking the younger girl by the wrist, the tallest dashed through an open doorway of an abandoned block of half-built apartments. Tripping over fallen rubbish, the pair scrambled through the dark and up the concrete steps. Scraping their palms and knees, the duo fought for their lives. Hearts pounded and sweat stung their skin. They’d never lived through such things, or maybe that was a lie…

Making it to the top floor, the pair heaved for a decent breath between them. Making sure they hadn’t followed, the eldest shrugged off her backpack and slumped to the concrete slick with water thanks to the broken ceiling. The brunette took a shakeable heat-pack for the side-pocket from her luggage and handed it over to the ginger teen trembling in confusion.

Since landing on the foreign continent – and even before that, the eldest – Pandora Yuen – The twenty eight year old Chinese American was always beat down and screwed over. For her, the situation was a new beginning. She wasn’t scared of fighting – She’d always had to at least defend herself. Now, in this situation, she was given everything she wanted. She wasn’t some “weirdo, tranny bitch”, she was now a woman with a life she could care for. And by God, she’d do it. That was all she ever wanted and now she had it, there was no was some thugs were going to snatch it from her. Even if she had to bloody her hands, she would protect her gift.

Crouching beside the bony redhead in her early teens, shivering amongst the debris, the tall brunette reached out. Scratching her knuckles on the concrete as she slid her hands behind the girl, Pandora held both of the girl’s shoulders firmly. “Rhea, we’re in a burned down block of apartments. They shouldn’t look here.” She explained, knowing the teen would be worried by the fact they’d suddenly had to run without a decent explanation.

Clasping the heat-pack, the young teen whispered. “I can feel the damp and draft.”

“When the true dark sets, we’ll move.” Pandora tightened her grip on the child.

“I trust you.” Her standard meek tone was quieter than usual, yet still confident in what she was saying.

Clasping the girl’s head, Pandora shifted. Being as close as she could, the eldest reassured the redhead with a stroke on the arm. “I know.”

For days, they’d been on the run like criminals. Between them, there’d been a single meal shared. Placing her backpack on her lap and counting supplies, Pandora placed a foiled square in the teen’s hands. “It’s a cheese sandwich.”

“I’ll only eat it if you take half.”

Inhaling and regulating her breath, the brunette nudged the girl with her shoulder. “I’ll find something better when we break the Capital.”

With furrowed brows, the ginger girl held the sandwich a few inches from her chapped lips.  “It’s dangerous, Pan.”

Placing her hand on top of the teen’s head, Pandora reassured. “We can’t live off dry mix and stale bread forever.”

“I don’t want you to die.”

Gritting her teeth, the eldest forced a happy grin with accompanying actions. “I won’t leave you.”

 

A little more than mile away…

Creeping up the last step of a tower block, a buxom redhead halted her breath. Peering around the corner of the abandoned apartment block missing the near entirety of its face, the female scouted for trouble. Seeing there was none, she straightened up. Fixing the edge of her ridiculousy skimpy shorts and the straps of her bags, the young woman advanced down the littered pathway with care. Slipping her knife into her belt, the female advanced down the trashed corridor in search of somewhere to spend the night.  

She hadn’t got past the sixth door when she was met by an obstacle. To her left, a blonde teen sat cross-legged amongst the debris and beside a small fire, chewing a scrap of food and not even stirred by her presence. Holding her hand lazily at chest height, the redhead made on her way, uninterested in avoidable conflict. Once the taller woman had gotten within a few feet, the blonde had decided to pay attention. Dropping her meal on an old newspaper, she scrambled to her knees. Snatching a pistol from her covered side, she aimed at the intruder. "Turn back.” She hissed.

“No way.” The redhead replied flatly, unfazed by the reaction.

“I’ll shoot you.” The teen warned but the older woman didn’t seem all that bothered.

“If you knew anything about anything, you’d not light a fire in plain view.” The full figured woman replied, her thick Southern American accent obvious now she spoke a decent sentence. “I don’t think you could shoot me even if you wanted to.”

"Wanna try it?” The girl pulled back the hammer of the pistol and the redhead rested her hand over her weapon of choice.

Holding out her arms in a couldn’t-care-less manner, the taller female dared. “Wanna waste a bullet and draw some unwanted attention?”

“What do you want?”

“I just want to get passed.” Not saying anything, the small girl jutted her head and the taller of the pair pushed stray hairs off her face. “Thanks.” Stepping past the small twig fire, the redhead shuffled for the next door along and. Taking a step back from the beech wood plank, she suddenly rammed her boot into the rich wood beside the handle. With ease, the barrier flung open to reveal a well decorated apartment. Going inside, the tall female flicked off her shoes as if it was her own home. Without looking back, she used her heel to shut the door behind her.

A few moments passed of the teen listening to the banging of doors of both the bedroom and cupboards going on inside the apartment. She felt her stomach rumble at the thought of something other than the half tin of beans she’d been slurping down eighteen hours or so since she ran from the camp. The banging stopped and the squeak of the door a few feet away made the teen look up. Being met by the odd woman peering back at her from behind the doorframe, the blonde clasped her weapon in wait for a fight. “Put that fire out and come in here.” Without another word, the woman had disappeared as quickly as she’d popped up and shut the door behind her yet again.

Not keen on knowing what she was doing, the blonde scrambled to her feet. Stomping down on the fire that was barely embers, the teen scuffed the small strays of wood and concrete dust onto where the black mars were in order to hide the evidence of civilization. Snatching her wheely-suitcase and the satchel, the teen inched towards the door where the woman had broken into. Knocking once, she pushed open the barrier of the high class space and then pulled the bust barrier shut behind her.

Hearing the clink of pans, the blonde followed the sound around the corner to her right and into the kitchen. Seeing the redhead raiding the cupboards as a single pan steamed on the cooker hob, the teen wondered. “What are you doing?”

“You have guts, but you’re a little dumb.” The redhead stated the facts “I’mma teach you some shit and you’ll cover my ass for food and protection.”

Hiding her gun behind her back, the blonde shrugged. “That seems like a mighty fine deal in a time like this.”

“First is a major trick – not all gas and electric is gone.”

“What?” The teen dropped the handle of her case and then her guard.

“Personally, I can’t tap it, but it can be done.” Taking the steaming pan off the hob the redhead motioned to the cooker. “There was just a little left in the pipe.”

“How do you know?”

Ignoring the question she knew she’d be dogged over, the redhead continued. “Second lesson, raid any locked door when you know there’s nobody around.”

“I was around.” The blonde snarked.

Waving her free hand, the older female poured the contents of the pan into two bowls. “I could have killed you by hand as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Like I said, you have bigger balls than most men I’ve come across.” She placed the two dishes on the dining table along with two slices of half-stale bread each. “If you think it was tough surviving alone so far, you’re gonna get a shock from here on out.”

Fiddling with the meal, the blonde asked. “So, now what?” She watched the woman in her early twenties put both bowls down on the four-person dining table and then take a seat.

Tearing up the bread and throwing them into the bowl to soak up the flavour of the tomato soup, the redhead waited. “After we eat, we clear this floor and then leave.” The blonde threw herself down and dragged the pretty white and silver bowl towards her.

Immediately wolfing down the grub, the youngest choked. “No one’s on the second floor – we could get food from there.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been here three days.” The blonde told and the older girl tiled her head in thought at the information.

“Maybe you should have kept your little bonfire going. If anyone came here and saw the fire plus an open door, they’d be scared off. If not, they shouldn’t be fought with in the first place.” Dipping her spoon into the soup, the redhead rolled her neck. “We can hide most of the food and come back for it later.”

“Why not just take it all now?”

“Overloading will get you killed.”

Shovelling down the flavour, the blonde joked. “You know a lot for a Yankee.”

Clicking her tongue off of her teeth, the taller woman almost barked. “Watch your mouth, brat; I’m no Yank.” Knowing more about herself more than most, the redhead scoffed. “I jumped ship – In a literal sense – just after the word hit my cruiser. I’m a tourist.”

“How are you enjoying your vacation?”

Choking at the surprising humour, the redhead sniffled her nose clear. Finishing her meal, the eldest huffed. “I don’t spare a moment for my old life, and neither should you.” Pale green irises watched the teen beginning to eat at a slower pace.

Eyes down, the girl hummed as she stirred the soup in front of her. “I was here with two friends on vacation. My family brought them along…I saw them all die.”

“Thinking of that kinda shit will kill you.” Taking a flask from her hip strap, the redhead took a swig. “Forget about it all and get a grip.”

“I know what you’re doing.” She glanced to the irritated woman and spared a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Finish your soup and then pack the stuff I left out.”

“Why are you helping me?”

Standing up, the redhead stretched. “I already told you. You’re my back-up.”

“I could run.”

“You won’t run.” Giving a slight smile, the taller female jutted her thumb. “You’re not that type.”

“What’s your name?” Finishing up with her food, the blonde wiped her mouth. “I’m Poppy.”

“Charlie.”

Grinning, the blonde took the empty dished to the sink out of habit. Looking back at the woman lending her a hand, the teen beamed. “Thanks for helping me, Charlie.”

Forcing a scowl, Charlie turned away and wafted her hand. “Just do as I asked.”
 

Updated: 9th April 2014 - 20:36