Tevun-Krus #2 - Post-Apocalyptic

The Dawning

The Dawning.
By @Davidgibbs6

A Forbidden Planet : Tevun Krus exclusive.

George would have liked to think he was a good man, except deep down he already knew he was fatally flawed. All he was striving for, was hollow and in the end, everything he did was a pure act of selfishness. He only did the righteous things he did, so that in the aftermath he could make himself feel better about the other things he knew he did, the unspeakable things. 

The groans of pain from the girl before him brought his head out of the clouds and he again focused on dressing her wound. The hole made by a bullet was infected and would surely kill her. The humane thing to do would be to kill her now. But even if he had it in himself to pull the trigger he doubted the watching parents would let him do so. Instead they looked to him for some tiny glimmer of hope that their only daughter might be saved. Right now George couldn't even muster enough hope to drag his own sorry ass out of a deep and spiraling self pity. 

Standing he avoided their pleading eyes and politely excused himself to the bathroom. The tap water was a welcome respite from the heat as he splashed it over his face. Looking up into the cracked mirror he barely recognized his own reflection. Deep lines crossed his face, a testament to the hardships of his life and a steady growth crept up his neck and across his face. All of a sudden he looked old and the thought lit a fire in him. Pulling his glock from under his belt, he forced it up under his jaw while gritting his teeth. The mirror reflected a grimace as the gun barrel pulled his flesh tight and he struggled with himself.

He couldn't even do the girl in, let alone himself, the fire in his eyes was not his own and with a shaking hand he replaced the piece. There was nothing more he could do here except give the waiting parents their false hope, which he did in a most gentle manner and then left.

Stepping into the street and the cool cloudless night, he looked to what was left of the moon. It hung suspended, barely in orbit like a silent assassin waiting to strike. The jagged tear left by the anti matter generator incident taunted him, as a shooting star blazed brilliantly to earth. Once, meteors had been a rare occurrence, but the destruction of over half the moon had changed that. Now pieces rained constantly from the heavenly body as the remaining third grinned on manically as tidal forces slowly tore it apart.

A gentle breeze picked up, carrying the sounds of gunshots his way and he wondered silently how far off they were. The moon and its consequential ring would have been beautiful had it not herald so much destruction and with worse still to come. Scratching his dry scalp he sniffed the air and started to walk, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the dark embrace that was sleep. The other was coming and he could feel it ripping through his body like a wild fire, for now he was in control but the other side to him was tearing its way out and he wanted to be far from here when it happened.

At some point George had stopped thinking very hard, and he found himself not wanting to go home and sleep. Deep inside he knew this was a bad idea but something else was driving him now. Every step he took was not his own and he slipped gently, ever deeper beneath the other who possessed him. 

He caught his reflection in an unbroken window, still looking old but somehow less frail, or maybe it was less afraid. It was not George who was less afraid, as he watched the hair creep across his features in each passing glimpse, he was very afraid, just not for himself. The cracked pavement passed more quickly until George found himself running. Sights, sounds and smells assaulted his senses, spurring the painful fire which enveloped him until there was no part of him not cover in ungodly hair.

The city had been lucky for the most part, at least physically. It had been far enough away from the coast to avoid most of the tsunamis that had swallowed up the less fortunate. The earth was now plagued with king tides, drowning entire countries and their people without mercy. George considered these lost souls to be the lucky ones, free from the cancer which had grown within society since. Such terrible circumstances bought out the best and the worst in people, doubly so for George.