Last Life Part 1: Homecoming

The Living

Marcel merely shook his head, sighing deeply into his mask. "I don't think I could ever quite forgive you for leaving. I was only seven years old, Saul, seven!"We stopped outside the central city hall, loitering on the cracked stairs. "But you're my brother, and you returned, I could never hate you... After all, I did think you to be dead until today." He chuckled and punched me (not so softly). I could still see the tears at the corners of his eyes as we laughed.

"Shall we go in then?"

"Yes! Yes... Many people've come and gone since you left. I want you to meet all the newbies." Wiping at his face, Marcel pulled back the great door which creaked its complaint, The sound immediately drew all eyes in the room upon us. My skin crawled with embarrassment as I set my bags down. I wasn't expecting quite this many people.

"Hey everybody, my brother Saul has come back from the dead!" Marcel exclaimed cheerily, pushing me forward into the ill-lit hall.

"Goddamnit Marcel!" I muttered under my breath as I was suddenly swarmed by bodies.

"Hi Saul!" Chimed a chorus of less than harmonious boys. They must have been brothers, and their two older siblings held themselves at the back of the cluster. "We're the Martens!" They all smiled at me.

Then proceeding in what seemed to be a rehearsed fashion, from youngest to eldest, they introduced themselves with mechanical efficiency.

"I'm Garduno!" The youngest boy grinned, rosacea setting his round face aglow in the darkness.

"I'm Marder!" The next boy added, his freckled cheeks crinkling as he broke into an equally wide grin.

"I'm Gulo." The middle boy smirked, pushing his mop-like jet hair from his eyes. He was a lot bigger than his other two brothers.

"I am Alessa, nice to meet you." The only girl said politely as she restrained her brothers with flexed arms and a strained smile. Her eyes were set with tired happiness, her soft features were offset by the muscles that shot through her bony body.

"And I am Sacha." The eldest brother introduced himself, shaking my hand. He looked to be about my age, maybe a year or two younger with a slimmer build. As for his brothers they looked to be between ten and fifteen. Alessa was sixteen I was later informed, and Sacha, nineteen.

When their children finally backed away, the parents of the brood, approached.

Their mother, I assumed (since she was near identical to Alessa, right down to the long black braid and freckles) took my hand and looked at me warmly with her dark eyes, "Hello Saul, I'm Faeles, and this is my husband Fowler."

Fowler, better known as 'Father Marten' shook my hand. He was a sunburnt man with light brown hair shot through with light gold and grey hairs, his stern blue eyes and a hooked nose were the exact opposite of his wife's wide, brown eyes and flattened button nose. They seem all nice enough. They were new here, at least... They've been here for less than ten years.

Marcel led me away, to a group of three girls. Two of which were identical, with hazel eyes and  blonde pigtails spilling down to their waists. The third was far taller than her two sisters, and had brilliant red hair that tumbled in curls from a thick ponytail.

"Hi I'm Brietta!" One of the blonde girls waved, "And I'm Terra!" The other beamed. Oh god I can't tell them apart, they're identical down to their dimples.

"I'm Rowena. You look tired... Do you like to sleep?" The older sister looked me up and down, raising her neatly groomed eyebrows.

"Uh yes, I suppose." A devious grin spread across her face.

"Oh god-" "Rowena-NO!" Her sisters blanched and lunged at her.

She broke into raucous laughter as she pushed them back, and leaned in close to whisper in my ear, "We should do that together sometime..."

I blushed and gawked at her in shock, which seemed to only further her enjoyment. "I uh..." I stuttered, looking at Marcel helplessly. He too appeared to be somewhat flustered. Meanwhile, Rowena's sisters looked thoroughly embarrassed and were now sitting in defeat behind her.

"I'm just kidding, relax kid. This ain't mama's first rodeo. I just like seeing your face getting all red like that, it's cute." She winked at me, "Just like your behind."

Awkwardly I accepted her hand and shook it. Brietta let out a groan as Rowena pulled me closer, conspicuously checking me out. When she finally let go, Terra motioned for us to move on while we could as Brietta pulled her aside to talk.

Marcel and I rushed to a man who sat in the corner, undisturbed by our visit. He was working on repairing some kind of gun. Oil and grease was smeared on his dark, wrinkling skin. His hair was salt and pepper, growing in tight coils close to his head. When he finally noticed us and looked up, I could see how old he actually was. Never before had I met someone older than Alice. He wasn't ancient by any means, but nowadays he was certainly an oddity.

"New 'un hmm?" He muttered, hardly looking up from the gun in his lap.

"Yes, sir. I'm Saul." I offered my hand.

"So I've heard." He accepted it and paused his work. "Ya look like you've seen some things... Living it out there for ten years on yer own. I'm Ash by the way."

"...Yeah I have." I was rather surprised he knew... Who had told him?

"I'll catch up with you later, son. I'm caught up in somethin' right now." He set back to whatever it was he was doing with the weapon, somewhere between dismantling and reassembling it.

"There's one last person I'd like you to meet." Marcel said, pulling me along with him, his voice excited and tinged with fear.

Oh?

In a side room of the hall, lit by light that poured in through a grey tinted window that was speckled with bullets. Sitting by the window was a boy, somewhere between my age and Marcel's. He had a muscular, thin build, with fine birdlike features. He looked to us with mild surprise. I was taken aback by his bright violet eyes that contrasted with his sallow skin.

"Saul... This is Lance, Lance... this is Saul, my brother."

Lance smiled at me, and with some effort, got up and shook my hand.

"Well... I guess miracles are real. You're back from the dead huh?"

"I suppose so."

"Same here." He laughed and sat back down on a padded crate that served as a seat in the corner of the room. Marcel and I sat on two other crates, across from him. "We've got a lot to talk about I suppose." He raised his eyebrows at Marcel who shook his head. "A lot..."

"Yes, we owe each other that much."

"Indeed." Marcel agreed.

"In that case-" Lance started, to be cut off by Marcel.

"Wait-"

"Don't be so shy Marcel. I'll tell him." Lance rested his hand on Marcel's and looked at him contentedly.

"Tell me what?" I asked, slightly off put by their anxiousness.

"I'm Marcel's boyfriend."