Ashes (Of the Earth Series)

Chapter 1.2

The decrepit buildings loomed, their shattered windows giving a sobering view into our reality. The town's usual damp, smoky tang was tainted today; a new scent twined through the air—the stench of anarchy and a palpable, creeping despair. Recent raids had not gone well, garnering heavy losses. Grief hung over the town like a pall, almost visible if not for the fog that clung to everything.

I stared up at the leaden sky, but instead of seeing hope, I was welcomed by more disappointment. The rain was heavy, falling straight to the ground like tears - today, the sky, too, was crying. Our mother mourned us. Lightning split the sky above, and thunder clapped through the alleyway.

A procession of gaunt figures trudged by my doorstep, their slow march moving towards the communal dining area. My eyes followed their wary steps, tracing the path they painstakingly tread through the skeletal remains of what once were homes. The skyline was a jumble of teetering structures and crumbled facades; the scars of destruction - whether by conflict or nature's wrath - were everywhere.

As my attention drifted from the skeletal remains of buildings to their weary denizens, I observed the queue snaking down the street, a huddle of shared misery against the backdrop of a fractured world. Some faces bore the stark evidence of grief, with frozen tears etched onto their skin like icy trails of sorrow.

In this existence, reduced to a series of desperate grasps by survival, dignity had long since been eroded, leaving only the raw instinct to endure. We were living but not alive.

Without hesitation, I inserted myself into the line, displacing a pair of individuals unceremoniously. The man ahead seemed to comprehend the unspoken hierarchy, and after all, it didn't affect his place in line - but the woman behind uttered a faint sound of objection. A sharp glance, icy and dismissive, was all I afforded her. Upon recognizing my features, like a kicked dog, she recoiled into silence. I suppressed a derisive snort and refocused ahead, my worn boots scraping against the concrete as I shuffled forward.

That's when I spotted Martin—my solitary ally in this forsaken landscape— a few paces ahead. His skin, weather-beaten and crisscrossed with the lines of toil, contrasted starkly with the vivid scars marring his features. He looked around at the woman's protest. Despite the evident discomfort, his grin was broad as he hailed me, the raw lines of his face stretching with effort. "Hey, Alec," his voice boomed, a touch of jest in his tone. "Up early today, aren't ya? Intimidating the masses already?"

My response was a low, guttural sound. I muscled my way through the queue towards him, disregarding the indignant cries and harsh expletives my passage elicited.

As I neared, Martin reached out to clasp my hand. Our handshake morphed seamlessly into an embrace. "Good to see you, mate," he murmured, his voice a hushed thread in my ear. "Been a minute, had me worried." I eased out of the hug, my eyes scanning his features. "Been scavenging for bits Nicois is keen on," I said.

"Ah," he nodded. "Find anything worth mentioning? You'd have said, though, if you had, right?"

"Indeed. And about that, I'm hitting the aquifer later—clear out the shit."

Martin winced, his visage twisting with revulsion. "Can't fathom how you brave it. Alone out there, with... them," he grimaced, his head a slow pendulum of denial.

"Seems I'm the only one up to the task," I remarked, casting a glance skyward, feeling the rain's cold kiss on my skin. "We need the water," I added. "Boiling rainwater only goes so far."

He paused, before his hand found my shoulder, his grip firm yet fraught with concern. "It's not right; you always tackle this alone," he implored gently. "You come back looking more ghost than man... maybe take company next time?"