I staggered out under the blistering rays of the desert sun, instantly becoming blinded and my head began to pound. The sorry excuse for a tree which I had collapsed beneath at some point during the early hours of the morning called to me, willing me to return to its pitiful shade… but I had to continue. I was so close now.
No other person could be seen for miles.
Bending down to touch my toes, the only sound that could be heard was my bones clicking as I moved- how long would it be until I acclimatised to living on the run? It had been years now. The cracks which appeared to have been intricately carved into the compact, sun-baked sand underneath my feet never seemed to change, and the azure skies above me always seemed so endless.
Standing up straight, my eyes locked onto the building ahead of me. Having always been extremely pathetic when it comes to judging distances, I began to trudge forward in the blazing heat with no idea as to how long it would take me to reach my destination. One thing was for certain: there was no way I could get lost.
The 1950s styled diner was the only building to be seen in any direction, the only sign at that moment that civilisations had ever existed. Maybe at one time this whole area had been covered in buildings and thrived on colour and chaos, but that was a world that I did not know. That was why I was here; things needed to change.
It took a while but eventually I seemed to actually be moving towards the diner instead of walking an infinite path. The closer I got, the more I could see how the hardships of the last decade or so had affected the building; paint was peeling; windows boarded up; fractures had developed in the wood and concrete. Somehow the place was still managing to emit an aura of grandeur. I compared it to the buildings of the City, where everything was white or black, plastic or concrete. At least this rundown diner had a sense of personality, like pleasant memories had been formed here and were still attempting to linger on…
Soon I found myself at the main entrance to the diner, and I was suddenly nervous. This moment had been created and imagined in my brain thousands of times- what if something went wrong?
I filled my lungs with air and pulled my electric blue gun out of its holster, studying the bright yellow lettering on it as if it were the most important detail in the world. Exhaling strongly, I burst forwards and hammered on the red front door. Bolts scraped on the other side of the door and it was thrown open, shoving me backwards. Strong hands gripped my biceps and I was thrown against the side of the building, only aware of two guns inches away from my face.
“Drop the gun- now!” I obeyed this command.
“Death, get that name scanned immediately!” A third man frantically pulled a scanner out of his pocket and held it against my gun, checking the name.
“It’s not been recorded so far…”
“How did you find us!”
“Do you have to have your guns-”
“Answer the damn question, we will shoot you!”
“Enough!” The third guy shoved the other two away from me. They shot him evil, incredulous looks and he sighed. “Look at her clothes, her eyes- all colour, no white!”
A few minutes passed by in which the men simply surveyed me. My heart pounded in my chest and I had never been so unsure as to what I should do: one wrong move and I would be shot right then and there. Slowly the guns were dropped but still not holstered. They marched back into the building, leaving me with the third man.
“Thank-you …” I whispered. He smiled and handed me my gun.
“No problem. They’re just overly cautious, but then again everyone is nowadays. I’m Interrupted Death- c’mon in, Adrenaline Revolver.”
I followed him into the diner and he locked the doors behind us. I was shocked to find so many people crammed into the space, everyone doing a particular job; cleaning weapons; sending out radio transmissions; stockpiling food…
There was so much colour.
I had been brought up during the war, all I had seen was a city made of black and white and no emotion, but here everything was a different colour of the rainbow and it was incredible to finally see self-expression from so many people. Everybody had such creative names as well- the names we had chosen to fight with. It was beautiful, breathtaking, bewildering-
“Indigo Dove, we’ve got an enemy sighting a few miles east…” someone from the radio station yelped, and everybody froze.
Then suddenly everyone acted all at once. Interrupted Death grabbed my arm and started pulling me through the mass of people. All I could think about was that this wasn’t supposed to be happening now: I had arrived here to do my duty, to help the Cause so that everyone I cared about would be free to be their own person again- but I was surrounded by people preparing to fight. We were preparing to fight. It was too soon, I wasn’t ready, I had never even fired a gun-
“Did they track you here?”
“No, I swear, I was careful-” I started.
“They’re here, everybody move- move!”
Hidden doors flew open and people started to flood out of them, guns held high. It was a matter of seconds before the first shots were fired-
-I was back outside, in the heat, and an army of the opposition dressed all in black was swarming us in numbers we had no chance of standing against. Colourful bodies began to hit the ground around and me and it’s all my fault, all my fault, all my fault-
Raise the gun. Shoot straight. Try.
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Random Works
Poetry**There might be some triggers throughout this work*** Just a collection of random writings, mostly things I write during Creative Writing class
