Survival: Fading Light

Chapter Twelve

“Now, try again.”

Felix took another step, then managed to trip over his shoelace.

I sighed. This was not going as planned. Rubbing my brow, I looked up to see him anxiously smiling at me, his grey eyes creased in concentration and fatigue.

I`d left Hayley in charge at the meeting place. For the last few hours, I had been trying to teach Felix how to hide in the shadows while sneaking up on people. Then, failing that, I tried teaching him techniques on being stealthy while sneaking around. Then, after tripping into a rusty car on our right, faceplanting into the gravel five times and somehow managing to run into each other, I decided to start with walking quietly.

It was frustrating. I wanted to storm off and get back to work, but one look on his face reminded me that he`s 17. Damn it, he`s just a child. He should be deciding on which college to go to, if there was a college, or getting stressed over homework, not fighting a war in the remnants of a crumbling world, and the 10 years that finally destroyed it.

“Sargant Kirkland? Did I do it right?”

I smiled, erasing all traces of fatigue from my face. He stared at me, biting his top lip, and fidgeting with his hands. I didn`t want to ruin his innocence. He didn`t deserve this. He was just a boy, sitting on a cracked wall, failing to see the inevitable doom we would all face.

I stepped out towards him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Let`s try again, shall we?”

He nibbled harder on his lip, his joyful expression turning sorrowful. It was almost painful; he was so easy to read. It was there on his face, the moment he felt it. Sorrow, joy, nervousness; he was an open book. I`ve known people like that in the past. That could be a liability in the future.

It is my job to make sure it is not.

My face hurt from smiling, but I persevered. “Okay, put one foot down slowly... yes, let`s go slowly...yes, good! Now, make sure the ground is stable and empty before you—"

Crunch

I sighed. He lifted his foot, looking sheepishly at me. I`ve had 10 year old’s better at this than he is. I`ve taught younger people faster than him.

Then again, none of them have survived this long. Against COVID. Against the thousands of deaths that shaped our world. At Lionel Banks, and his Urnes Snakes.

Felix had survived. How did he? I realized I had never asked.

I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it, watching him as he sat down on the ruined wall, rubbing his right foot. He looked disappointed, melancholy, but talking about the destruction could trigger something worse. Something we wouldn`t want. I decided there and then; I couldn`t hurt him. He was too young, too positive, too playful, too open, too naïve of this cruel world`s ways. He wasn`t a soldier. He looked at the world and saw opportunities, not regrets. He could have never joined the army.

However, he was a survivor. What could that say about him?

He stood up, took another step, and walked on top of a granite piece that promptly collapsed below him. He sighed, and took his seat again, rubbing his temples and staring desolately in front of him.

I smiled, shaking my head, and turning around. We needed a break.

I took a step to check the sun, and make sure we had enough time for a ten minute break.

“Hey, how did you come to join the Marines, Sergeant Kirkland?”

He looked at me, expecting an answer. His body drooped from exhaustion on the rubble he was sitting on, his clothes were ragged and torn, he was sunburnt, and he had lost his smell of berry bushes and toast. He smelled more like he burnt the bush and toast, then left them out in the sun to rot. A picture I had come used to creating.

Well, at least he smelled better than me.

His question lingered in the air, making the silence uncomfortable and heavy. I forced myself to break it.

“That`s not something you want to know.”

It came out sharp and pained. The emotion escaped before I could stop it. I cursed inwardly. Alone, I thought. Don`t talk about it. Don`t go back there. It`s behind you, and you can`t learn anything from your past. Forward. You know what`ll happen if you talk about it.

Felix smiled awkwardly, but his face was tense, and his eyebrows furrowed. Taken aback and confused. His eye narrowed; why had I said it so promptly? His lip curved to one side. Fear. His stance straightened and he drew back. Self-defense.

My own eyes narrowed. Where has the last one come from? I knew it too well to miss it.

He gestured for me to come over to him, then, realizing I wouldn`t, looked away. He opened his mouth, deliberating on what he should say. Then he turned back to me, scooching on his seat, and asked a simple question, but one I couldn`t bring myself to answer.

“Why not?”

I shook my head, and looked towards the late afternoon sun, calculating the time we had left. About an hour. We had to finish up and go back to the meeting place for yet another gathering.

“Felix, please, don`t talk about it.”

Silence. I was growing tired of it. I relented and sat next to him, smiling as I would to a scared animal when he flinched away. I knew how to calm him; I had practiced it many times before.

“We should head back soon,” I said gently.

We were outside his father`s old bakery, as I had taken him away from his wall-building duties. The windows were dim with dust and dulled with relentless sunshine. Bricks lay scattered around; part of the backroom had collapsed into itself. Glass crunched into our feet if we weren`t careful enough, and our surroundings lay grey and tired.

Withered grass, dead trees, buildings scattered like a hurricane, and we were standing in its eye.

My mind thought back to when Leila—

No. Don`t. Not now. I can`t deal with this. We have work to do.

I felt a weight on my arm and snapped my head to the side. I saw Felix, resting on me, his eyes closed. He`d spent a good part of the morning collecting rubble, and sleepless nights making sure the bakery was closed and minded, the developing machinery oiled and maintained. I`d not be surprised if he hadn`t slept in a while. He licked his lips, the moisture disappearing as easily as it came.

“You know, if you keep opening an oven to check if a cake is done, Sergeant Kirkland, it ends up burning afterwards.”

I felt my eyes crease with confusion, and he smiled softly at me. The light minimized as the sun sank behind the bakery, and it was suddenly cold. Felix snuggled farther into his jacket and curled up beside me.

“What I`m trying to say is, don`t tell me if you don`t want to. But I-,” he hesitated. “I`m here for you if you need a shoulder to lean on.”

He grinned tiredly, blowing an offending piece of hair away from his face.

“We all have a breaking point, Sergeant Kirkland, and I want to make sure you have support if you reach your own. I`m not a soldier, and I can`t even walk quietly, and I expect there are too many people more able than me, like Hayley, or that Matt guy, or was it Ben? And of course perhaps Veronica...”

His voice cracked as he said her name. He inhaled a deep breath and continued.

“Just, it`s okay to be sad, Sargant. That`s all.”

My own eyes brimmed with tears. I looked towards the western horizon. He was so innocent. God, so innocent. Why, after everything, should this be the one thing to hazard my tears? I`m trained to prevent emotion, to push it down and stay serious, in control.

I was never trained for this.

Felix, and his positivity. Felix, and his teenage-high-school views on everything. Felix, and his golden heart. The world was going to break him one day.

It isn`t fair. God, it isn`t fair.

What I thought didn`t matter. I was a leader, and it was my job to be confident. Like all those before me, I needed to be strong. I needed to be confident. I needed to prepare ready strategies for the next day, and the next, and I couldn`t appear weak. I was a symbol. It was my job.

Felix didn`t seem to care.

His fawn hair swooped in front of his storm-grey eyes, lined with laughter and determination. He had a straight stance, his front unprotected, his back a target, He stood with his face to the wind and his back to the destruction.

Full of ambition. Full of joy.

He took chances. He dared to try. He didn`t see the failure before him, the greed and deviousness of the human race that brought the Earth to its knees. He looked past the viciousness of the world. Unwaveringly loyal to someone he didn`t even know. Loyal to another old man that destroyed the world from its core. He didn`t see the monsters that hid inside us, ready to spring. He was the only angel in what was supposed to be a city of them.

He was so young, to be fighting so many. Too many.

I couldn`t dwell on that. I needed to keep him alive, no matter what. He was the one we should all save. He was the only one worth saving.

He was a soldier, simply because he was here.

I sighed, the wind whistling as it picked up a little, and didn`t sense his head against my arm anymore. He`d probably curled up into himself. I began to turn.

“We should—”

My gaze fell against an empty wall beside me. He had sneaked away without me noticing at all.

Written By:

GinelleColour