Survival: Chapter 9: Detection

There’s a sort of tension nestled in the back of my mind that I can’t shake. Miles and Sue left at the first hint of dawn, hopeful and drastically unprepared. They left with smiles. They left like they thought that they had a chance.

Expect the worst.

Leila’s open ended disappearance doesn’t help with my trainwreck of thought, it’s like a taste on my tongue that won’t fade away, acrid and bitter. She has to still be alive. I know her so well. She’s a fighter, a survivor. She’s out there somewhere.

I’m overseeing the mixing of the sludge that will somehow turn into a wall, watch as this group of people, in between useful and useless, dump buckets of chunky concrete into toxic water from the river that could kill you in six seconds flat. This isn’t going to work. But if it’s going to lull them into a false sense of security, then I’m not exactly going to stop them.

One of the scouts steps in through a gaping crack in the wall, speedwalks over to me. He’s slight and so thin it’s like he has wires underneath his pale skin instead of bones, can run like the wind but can’t do much else. He has one of those names that’s meant to be forgotten- Matt, Ben, Jay- so I don’t remember it.

He runs a hand through his grimy hair, nervous. “Sergeant?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yes?”

His eyes land on the uneven floor. “I found a body.”

“I appreciate you doing a thorough job, but is that really that important?”

Bodies are such a common occurrence now. The world’s trying to kill us, after all. Some of them aren’t even found soon enough for a flash funeral. They’re scattered everywhere, like dust.

“I know, but there’s something… different about this body.”

Something in his tone of voice sets me on edge. Not that far. I was already teetering in that direction.

Is it Miles? Sue? Can’t be. I know that they probably won’t make it out alive, but it’s too soon. They have some skill. Enough to get them in. In, but not out.

….then who is it?

Curiosity kills cats, and will also probably kill me. But I have to know. It’s my duty, after all. I’m the leader.

And if these people can’t pour and mix by themselves, then we have much bigger problems than I had originally thought.

“Let’s go, then.” I tell him.

There are wisps of fog in the sky, or maybe smoke. The air is thick. I hope it isn’t a long walk.

We hurry through the shambles of what was formerly the business district, the buildings seem to sigh as they loom over us. Hopping into one of the cramped alleys, I swear I see a frog with three legs.

The war, the aftermath, changed us all. Not physically, like the frog, but mentally. It left scars on our minds, scars that no one could see.

“In here.” A squat building with giant windows, rimmed with sharp spikes of glass. An office building, most likely. I imagine when it was full, full of people who milled around like ants, sipping lukewarm coffee, disgusted with their boring lives. I long for that boredom, I wonder if they would now too.

The body is right by the door, in plain view, impossible to miss. A chill shoots up my spine.

Veronica.

Eyes wide open, staring at the burned ceiling. Severe ponytail, even in death.

Mottled bruises circle her neck.

The scout was right. This body is strange, indeed.

Veronica was strangled. Murdered.

Her fingers are curled loosely around something.

“Head back.” I order. “I’ll be back soon.”

“You sure?”

A grim nod is all I can muster. He takes one last look at the body, then dashes off like there’s fire at his heels.

Veronica’s hand is like ice as I peel her fingers off of a box. Thin. Cardboard. Empty. I remove it, hold it up to my face, to inspect it, to get a closer look. To confirm my suspicions.

It’s a box that held ammunition. Bullets.

That brings me a scrap of relief, only because I have something rational to cling on to. Some straggler must have found her, wanted bullets badly enough to kill her.

I’m about to stand up when I see it. I peer at her wrist.

Carved into her skin, carefully and methodically, is a symbol that makes my blood turn as cold as Veronica’s.

Twin snakes, wrapping around each other.

This was no accident. No unrelated event.

Because that symbol can only mean one thing.

Banks. He knows.

*****

He hopes Bryan enjoyed his little surprise. Bryan, that idiot. Thinking he didn’t know. But he had eyes and ears everywhere. He knew everything.

He was enjoying this, perhaps too much. But he was untouchable. He could do what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for Bryan to think he had a chance. For Bryan to get so close to his goal, he could almost taste it.

And then, he would destroy him.