The Archer and The Airship » 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕 «

Chapter Six

6. From the Ashes

'Whether we remain the ash or become the Phoenix is up to us.'
-Ming-Dao Deng

⤐

  WHEN the world ended, Zepp made it out of the city within days. Weird stories popped up on the news, grocery store shelves were wiped clean, the military started evacuations. None of it did anyone any good.

  Then the bombs started.

  Her trusty go bag ready by her front door, from the day she moved into her rundown studio apartment, was a simple backpack with a few supplies to get her through whatever situation she might find herself in. It was smart. While her neighborhood wasn't necessarily on the worst side of the city to live, it wasn't safe to be alone at night either. But even when she heard screams from the street below, or gunshots in the distance, she did not fear them. She feared a knock on the front door. She feared a heavy steel-toed boot kicking it down. She feared her stepfather coming for her.

  So when the army lost Atlanta, she grabbed her bag and ran to her (now abandoned) little blue Honda. The engine purred and hummed as she zipped down the street, dodging and weaving through cars left running in the street, blood smeared on the seats and the wheels. She passed her favorite coffee shop, the large bay window smashed open and patio chairs overturned. She passed the laundromat owned by Rachel, the middle aged woman who's son always wanted to show Zepp his new Pokémon cards, a bloody handprint marking the welcome sign.

An overturned bus in the lane blocked the right side of the road, and as she slowed to go around, a body slammed into her driver side door. She shrieked, slamming on the brakes. A young woman covered in blood with a chunk of flesh hanging from her neck frantically pounded on the glass, begging for Zepp to open the door. Before she had a moment to react, the soon to be corpse darted to the other side of the car, yanking on the door handle. She threw the car into reverse, the sickening screams as she ran over the woman's foot roaring over the soft engine.

  She wouldn't stop. She couldn't.

  As she whipped the car around to head the opposite direction, she took a moment to glance in the rearview mirror. The woman was crumpled to the asphalt with a hand to her neck.

  There was nothing to be done.

  She didn't look back again.

⤐

  Veronica stood tall, stretching to her fullest height, though that really wasn't much. Her lean muscles glinted with the crystal water in the sunlight and Zepp could feel her face grow warm with the glow.

  Veronica glanced nimbly over her bare shoulder, a small smile dancing across her lips. Zepp returned her attention back to tying her boots.

  Veronica hummed as she finished wiping down her legs with an old tee shirt before rifling through her bag for fresh clothes. "Do you have a spare flannel?" she shot to Zepp.