City of the Damned

Chapter 1 | The Silence Before the Storm

MAYBE the city should've been burned until there was nothing left but ashes. Yet, something prevented her from letting go. Verena thought she might be crazy to still care — numbed down by all the death and destruction. But as one of the few medically trained people remaining in the Centre, she wanted to run into the war zone and undo as much of the damage the factions had done. And if the cost would be her life, at least she'd be free.

The ground quaked, caused by who-knows-what. Dust floated down from the thick concrete ceiling like snowflakes in winter. Dim lights flickered for a second, but most people around her ignored it. The walls and the ceiling showed cracks, which didn't deter them from hiding there.

The battle seemed heavier compared to the last one. Was that the reason it had been quiet for some time? The soldiers prepared for an attack while the citizens took a breath of normality.

Her tensed shoulders rolled at another quake; she liked it better when they fought with sticks and stones.

The green shades on the dull grey wall were almost entrancing. Or perhaps Verena pretended so she didn't have to think of things far worse. Whatever it was, Verena stared at it while plucking at the skin around her nails.

The forest, mountains ... actual nature she dreamed of visiting after her mom's stories of long ago. But this was only a painting on a wall, in a bunker under the police station. Still, if she pretended hard enough, she could picture a forest stretched across acres of land with wild animals, berries to pluck, and most of all, fewer people. Nature shown in books with colours she could only imagine. Pigments that once painted the city, on the buildings, in the greenhouses, and in the blooming parks. Perhaps if they'd give flora more of a chance — if they didn't destroy the green roofs or public gardens — it would've been easier to breathe in the streets.

Maybe, one day, she could break the chains of Berulex that had a hold on her, and she would live somewhere safe and unbothered.

A bang ripped through the bunker, shaking the building as much as her hands quivered. Were the cracks this big before?

Irene — her stepmother, sadly — smiled down at the children. "Don't worry, younglings. Evil things are out there, but our mayor and leader, Gunnr, will save us and the city, like always."

Her father was many things, but a heroic saviour, as Irene painted him to be, wasn't one of them.

Restlessness washed through Verena's body with every pump of her heart. Images of the injured flashed before her, the past battles engraved in her mind. She should've been out there, helping, instead of sitting here doing nothing. With closed eyes, Verena banged her head against the cold stone wall. Stupid, stupid, stupid factions, leaders, and city.

Her eyes widened at a noise, familiar but also not. Her heart seemed to stop, skipping a few beats before it jumped back alive. Something wasn't right. Rising to her feet, she listened to the noises coming through the ventilation shafts. She held her breath until she heard it again ... gunshots?

Impossible.

Sure, certain faction members created their own guns, but not with gunpowder. Not with these intense sounds.

Verena looked around, but everyone seemed unbothered. Her eyes landed on the children playing as if people weren't dying above them. Motioning to them, she took a step forward. "Come. Take the chalk and draw some more on the walls here." She gestured to the wall behind her. Although she couldn't protect anyone upstairs, she damn well tried her best here.

Irene made a face at her but kept her mouth shut, her lips almost disappearing into a thin line. The children picked up their stuff and did as Verena said. Laughter mixed with her rapid heartbeat. The adults — rich, supporting non-fighters, and elderly — looked at them with smiles, as if this was a happy gathering.