The WALL

By David Isidoro

The circular glass view ports, inches in front of eyes, keep fogging. Only problem is that I can`t just remove my mask with no greenery around me. I can`t help but breath hard, I haven`t stopped running across this barren intersection since we left our camp. Around me are the burned out shells of mankind`s creation of luxury automobiles. Now, they just seem to be evidence of the World`s down fall. The distant rumbling behind me could be either another common thunder storm or an explosion, the sounds seem to bleed together swimmingly that I don`t break my stride.

Tara says we can`t stop if we`re out in the open, but while running I spot a tarnished tin can under a car`s flat tire. Someone must have missed it when they made a similar run for cover. With all the Wheezers lurking in the shadows one can never to be too careful.

Wheezers were the initial victims, and by-products, of our so called biological apocalypse. Some foreign country with a barely pronounceable name, dropped bombs on the east coast and the winds carried the fall-out throughout Canada. For the folks not affected by the first devastating blast, it started with a common cold and shortly thereafter, death. It didn`t stop there. Like something out of a goddamn zombie movie, the fuckers didn`t stop coming. Biologically Reanimated Corpses, they called them on the news. I remember one blondie on channel five fainted when they blasted through the doors at the station. Wheezers generally look like any person should look like, in shape at least, but they sure are terrible to look at. The chemical compounds don`t bond to well with organic matter, and it reacts violently. I`ve seen a man`s chest expand two-fold over night, and shortly after I put one into his swollen head. Besides their bloated, dragging feet, they don`t really make whole lot on noise but the wheezing from their boiled lungs isn`t hard to miss.

But here I am heading towards the back of this mini-van, full of gunned down corpses in its rotten seats, risking my safety for a nondescript tin can. Risk is in your everyday life and it`s the same as breathing, can`t live without them. Sustenance is essential for survival and so is a respirator [Respy for short].

"Noah!" Tara whispers from behind a large cube van.

I stop along the vehicle and peer through the van`s skeleton towards mousey whisper. With no movement from the van, I crouch down and reach for the can. My trusty breathing apparatus scrapes the road`s surface as my gloved hand grips the can. It feels light and after turning it over a notice a black hole, the tin sheared into a star like form. The kind a bullet would make if ever fired into tin, probably happened when these poor folk inside were hit by marauders.

"What are you doing?" The mousey voice asks. "We shouldn`t be out in the open."

I turn to see Tara, my older and wiser sister. Some might say she`s the better one of us left. Despite the dark Respy mask on her fair skin I can see the rage rising within her.

"I thought I spotted food," I say as I place the can on the mossy road, "let`s go."

Like a bump in the night, Tara and I freeze as we both hear a can drop from the rear bumper of the van. We both glance under and spot a whole can of diced corn. Tara acts quickly and makes her way around the van with her reliable mountain axe.

"Stay low, watch our backs." Tara whispers as I load my 12 gauge with a quick shuck of the grip. Tara reaches the corner and is ready to make the turn. After a slight flick of her wrist, I stand with a slug round ready and aim with a dead-eye on that trunk for any movement. Tara whips around the bend with axe held high. She looks to me and back to the back door which is propped with something. I give her thumbs up and Tara grabs the door and lifts it on its rusty hinges. I suddenly aware of the impending darkness of nightfall as that door opened fully and showed us the maliciousness of our precious little planet Earth.

A boy, or maybe a girl, I couldn`t tell because of the grotesque nature of the body. Massive tumors covered in crimson veins bulge with boiling cartilage over its face. The Stiffs inside probably were probably trying to get her some help and got stopped. Murdered and robbed of their possessions but left to rot away with their suffering child in the back. The sad part about all this is that there`s no remorse; it`s what makes a man weak and a woman crazy. My inner thoughts distract me for too long and I let the Wheezer stir from its painful existence.

"You better end it soon." Tara says.

"I can`t," I say as I look around the waking Wheezer. "I`ll get the food."

Just then the little bundle of toxic joy starts to convulse. The seizures are the first sign of an imminent shower of blood and contagions. Tara quickly throws the door down before I have time to grab another can. We both crouch down as the Wheezer screeches before its body explodes to smoldering shreds of flesh and bone. Another little addition to the makeup of the deadly cocktail inside the fall-out disease is that all infected bodies explode to better spread the virus.

"You shouldn`t have hesitated," Tara says as she dusts herself out, "it isn`t worth dying for two cans." She says this while putting her axe away. I reach down to grab the can that had caught our eyes.

"I`m sorry," I say, "it won`t happen again."

"Good. We can`t stay here. We`re almost there," Tara says, "you good?"

I can`t help but feel comprised by the way this world took everything away from me and now it`s tearing at my stomach. Weakness is for quitters I say and tell her I`m fine.

We have come so far and lost so much. Tara and I survived two different groups on the way here. We survived the infected. We fought off the people who wanted to take more than what the world had already taken. We won the battle, but not the war of survival. We`ve come this far already and the tragic events behind us won`t be in vain. All I want to do now is find this Sanctuary just past the tree line, past this hell.

Days later I can feel the rain on my face. It has been a long time since I`ve enjoyed this and I soak in every cool drop. Tara watches the droplets sprinkle my grimy face as she nibbles at some berries. The air is humid on the west coast, and every breeze chills my wet gear. We having been heading north-west for the last little while and it don`t look promising. The only thing that keeps the hope alive inside us are the bodies littering the forest floor. Some are infected remains of the poor bastards who struggled to breath in an oxygen rich area. The worrisome part is some are travellers among the dead and how they were stripped down of anything for survival. I guess they won`t need their gear in the next life.

"Are we heading the right way?" I ask. I crouch down and check my gear inside my bag. Tara looks to her trusty compass, but looks up and off into the distance.

"We`re close." She says.

"You think?" I say, "Something brought these people out here. It doesn`t look like they got lost while on a recreational hike."

"Look." Tara snaps. I look up from my pack and around the tree line. The gray sky makes the forest greenery dull and appears lifeless. Tara always had an eye for spotting anything in the trees but I wonder if she is losing her touch.

"What do you see?" I ask. She doesn`t respond, but stays transfixed on something a hundred yards out. She starts to move forward and only gives a slight wave. As I strap up my gear I call out to her.

Silence. I look up and she`s gone.

"What do you think it is?" I ask.

My lungs still burn slightly from the jog. Tara and I spotted a wall of trees and we ran towards it. Now, standing before this wall, which is double the size of a grown man`s height, we look at the many pine trees joined together. Tara approaches the wall and looks to the many scars of its proven defence. Looking at the deep gouges in the trees skin I wonder how many infected had broken their teeth and nails trying to get inside. I would have to say judging by the height, this wall is as sturdy as it is long.

Tara runs his fingers inside the deep crevices with her dirty finger tips. I start walking down the line of trees, but Tara stops me.

"What are you doing?" Tara asks.

"There`s got to be a way in somewhere." I say as I continue to march on, but she grabs my arm.

"Something doesn`t feel right." Tara says. Her eyes scan the mossy forest floor with the thin trees climbing into the gray clouds.

"We come too far, Tara," I say as rip my arm away from her tense grip. As I start walking down the wall I can hear Tara rustling behind me.

"If there ain`t a door, I say we pole vault the fucker. What do you say?" I say, but there`s no response. I call out as I turn, but she`s gone. I shout her name as I frantically spin around looking for her. There is nothing but the wispy wind to keep me company.

Suddenly, I hear leaves crunch and rattle behind me. I spin with shotgun held high to shear my target`s head off. I see the faint appearance of a Ghillie suit covered in dead and rotten foliage. Before I can let off a shot, my vision is jolted from reality and the world around me liquefies. My tired body falls vulnerably to the wet ground. As my eyes fill with water, all I see is two silhouettes looking down at me as slip into unconsciousness.

As I start to wake from my chemically induced slumber, I have a bizarre metallic taste in my mouth. When I open my eyes, I stare into a dark cloth and my vision is shrouded in darkness. As I try to stand I find that my hands are bound tightly with a thin rope. It`s the specific kind of rope that saws through your flesh if you try to struggle. All is eerily quiet about me, but I can feel a presence within my midst. I start to squirm as I feel cool blade touch my neck. I freeze.

"You infected?" The soft voice asks.

I say I am not, but the blade stays pressed against my pumping jugular. The birds chirp happily outside during a tense silence.

"Why are you here?" The voice asks.

"Shelter." I say as I look in the direction of my knife wielding interviewer. "If you were going to kill me, why haven`t you?"

The knife leaves my sweaty neck and its edge slides up my face to my temple. With a quick swipe of the blade severs my blindfold in two. I open my eyes and they land upon a girl no older than eighteen. Her dark-blonde hair hangs in slivers over her face and her once chubby cheeks are dried like prunes. Despite having a sharp object next to my neck, I feel a sense of compassion for this girl.

"Who`s the woman?" The girl asks.

"She`s my sister," I say, "What did you do with her?"

"She`s safe." The girl says as she stands. Her clothes are a mixture of postmodern age fashion and tree dweller.

"Can we trust you?" She asks.

"I could ask you the same thing," I say, "You jumped us and I`m waking up in some tent with hands bound."

"Like you said, if we wanted you dead, you would be." The girl says.

The girl looks in my eyes and I see the faint glimmer of sweetness buried somewhere inside that cold brain. She cuts my bound hands free and I rub my sore wrists. I stand slowly with my palms open and look around the small tent. My gear is gone and my pockets are empty. The end of the world, d�j� vu.

"Take me to my sister." I say.

The girl nods and points outside the tent with the blade`s tip. As I make my way towards the slit in the tent, she stops me.

"I`m Chloe."

"Noah." I say with a faint smile.

I exit the tent and stand in a small clearing in the dense forest. Several people watch me closely. Chloe comes up beside me and takes me by the arm. Their dark and sullen eyes follow me as Chloe and I make our way towards another tent. I look around the forest and spot the large wooden wall off in the distance. The surrounding area appears to have been harvested for any decent tree and in its wake, tents are sprawled about. We walk down a worn out path and look at the many eyes transfixed on me.

"I take it that you don`t get many visitors?" I ask. Chloe shakes her head. She appears disappointed in the worst kind of way.

"Not really," She says. "Let me take you to our leader."

I look over at her curiously, but she continues to walk down the path. The ideology of central leadership has always thrown me off. After seeing the destruction of man and woman under the pressures of group survival, things don`t end so nicely. It also isn`t very comforting knowing your reliable gear is nowhere to be seen. These days when you come across people they can be tenacious enough to rip that pack off your back for a blade or a scrap of food. My shotgun could very well be in pieces as I walk through this foreign land. But here I am in tow of a forest dweller leading me to a person of power. We walk through a clearing in the forest and my eyes land upon an emergency response shack.

As the infection spread in the earlier stages they distributed ten-by-ten collapsible units. They were meant to serve as emergency care houses. They`re durable as all hell too. Chloe opens the door to the shack and pushes me inside. The door quickly closes behind me. Tara stands from the corner of the dim space, her eyes wrapped in fear.

"Not very hospitable, are they?" I say trying for a smile from Tara. Tara hugs me tightly and holds the embrace.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I`m whole," She says, "they wouldn`t tell me anything."

The door opens and a block of light floods into the room. I immediately stand in front of Tara. Chloe waves in the light, like an angel beckoning us to cross over to the other side. I head forward and step out into the damp forest; Tara stays close behind. More tree dwellers have assembled and look to us with indifference in their expression. Oddly enough majority of the crowd are women, many of which have children of all ages cradled in their arms. The most distinguishable man stands with people at his back. By assumption I would have to say he`s the leader. The six-foot-two man with a stocky build walks towards Tara and I. I look into his weathered face and he looks to be a man of no more than thirty. This world has clearly drained the life from his skin and left deep, sorrow filled wrinkles. Life`s hard lessons in the apocalypse clearly shine upon ones face after so many years. Shit, I could pass for forty with my malnourish and grizzled face. The man extends his hand, under it I notice our essential living supplies.

"I`m sorry, we have certain precautions," the man says, "can never be too sure."

Tara and I look to one another. The idea of `Fight or Flight` dances between our eyes but we remain tentative enough to stay motionless.

"Where are my manners? My name is Lionel Darwin, but people call me Darwin around here." Darwin says.

I take his hand and introduce myself. My eyes still wander around the forest and the gazes on us. I can`t help but keep my guard up. It isn`t common that larger groups take in survivors, but maybe things have changed. Tara and I could have very well found the sanctuary we have been searching for. Darwin offers our gear back to us and a hot meal. My mouth salivates like a starved dog in need of a bone. We collect our gear and Darwin offers a tour of the camp. He does this in such a friendly manner to slyly dismiss the fact of us being drugged and tied up just minutes ago.

Chloe walks closely to my right and her left hand cups my bicep. Tara is captivated by the story of heroism in such dire times. I break my focus from Chloe`s icy, but strangely seductive eyes to interject.

"How do you know we`re safe here?" I ask as wave my wary hand over the horizon. Darwin smirks as if the true answer evades him or maybe it is unknown.

"Let`s get some food in you first." Darwin says.

Sitting around a fire under the black murky sheet of sky, Chloe throws another log onto the flames. Various women serve plates of food to the group huddled around the fire pit. Looking down into my plate, the orange and yellow reflection dances over a chunk of venison. Cooked mushrooms and Salmonberry roots accompany the warm meal. The sight of such a delightful meal almost brings a tear to my eye.

"After the fallout we didn`t have many places to turn," Darwin says, "the city started to become a warzone. With marauders and bandits scrounging through the streets day and night, it was difficult to survive. We lost many, but we need to rebuild."

Tara appears interested by Darwin`s tale and her meal goes untouched.

"Why out here?" Tara asks.

"The fresh air." Darwin says.

"I`m not following you." I say with a piece of meat flailing about my ambitious bites. I spot a faint but sweet smile from Chloe`s vibrant face.

"The infected can`t process the cleaner air." Darwin says. "They suffocate and suffer the usual fate of exploding in pieces. They don`t get very far. Its people I fear the most in this world."

"What do you do to outsiders who try invading the camp?" Tara asks. She`s borderline on the edge of her seat. I worry that she may be letting the emotions get the best of her. The most basic of human emotions now seem so distant and alien to our nature. It`s no surprise that when we meet certain people we long for some sort of connection. It is easy for our minds to stray from who we are. Detachment from the warm centers buried somewhere in the shells of once human beings is always best. There is an internal conflict as I ponder this while eating a free meal in a protected fortress.

"We do what can to protect and watch the wall, but we could always use more people. Good people." Darwin says. Tara and I exchange looks.

"Sleep on it. Have a good night." Darwin says as he rises from his wooden stump. The base is tarnished with all too familiar darkness of sweat, blood and tears. We watch Darwin walk into the darkness with guards at his side.

The incessant THOMPING of an axe on a fresh tree wakes me. My eye lids spring back as I assess my surroundings. Tara lays next to me, bundled in her dirt stained sleeping bag. I lean over to see her nestled inside, deep in a much needed sleep. Maybe this place is what she needs.

After getting dressed and equipping myself with a decent blade, I venture out from the tent. The colony is busy at work. I spot crews of two and three bringing down tall pines. Several teens work the soft earth with hoes and shovels while a young boy sows seed into the shredded soil. I look towards the source of the thwacking in the early morn and stop when I spot a large man. If he was hairier you could mistake him for a bear. The lumberjack of a man looks over with sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. I thank him for the wake-up call and he continues on chopping.

Tara emerges from the tent, but doesn`t have her gear.

"Morning, Sunshine." I say.

"Morning. Can we talk?" Tara asks while rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Tara and I walk along the wall of trees but the carnal sign of violence are nowhere to be seen. In its place are the playful markings made by the children. The bitter sweetness of this pleasant and creative mural is that its drawings are etched in charcoal.

"I`m tired of running all the time." Tara says. She stops to run her finger tips over the black markings on the wood`s bark.

"I`m with you." I say.

"Let`s give this place a chance, even for a little while." Tara says.

"First sign of trouble, we run." I say. Tara looks to the quiet forest behind her and lets a smile crack her lips. I offer my out stretched arms and she buries herself under my neck.

A week has gone by now and no longer have to sleep with one eye open. The nights are calm and the days busy, but all has been safe. Of course Tara and I have contributed to the camp, but the society is still shrouded in mystery. For such a safe haven from the rotting world, one would think people would open up. The only individual in the camp that has spoken to me has been Chloe. I wouldn`t consider myself much of a ladies man, but I believe I`m aware enough pick up on some level of attraction. Slowly I start to let these emotions creep back into my cold heart with each passing day, but it is still difficult. Tara has developed a glow to her that is seldom to see. She`s happy for once in this dark life.

As I write the events of the day inside a scrapbook, Chloe enters my tent. Out of habit I reach from my blade, but pull back when her beaming smile shines in the dim tent. She offers wild mushrooms and we eat over a dancing candle light. The night is quiet and many sleep albeit the watchmen. Chloe and I speak of many things. The most common topic strives to be about the way things were before the bombs dropped. I inquire about the colony in the forest, but she appears conflicted with some inner struggle. I embrace her and for a split second the reality of the world around me, bleeds through me. It has been so long since I came in contact with another survivor. The moment fades after I ask her about the many children around the camp. She breaks from the hug and composes herself. Suddenly, Tara bursts into the tent, bleeding and in shock. Her clothes appear torn and pants are loosely tied together as she franticly packs her gear.

"We have to leave." Tara says. The glow she had before is now AWOL and in its place there`s an aura of fear and dread.

I try to stand but my strength seems to have left me and lower to the ground.

"What happened?" I ask.

"No time. We have to move, let`s go." Tara says as she stands over me. I slowly rise to my feet and gather my gear.

"Please stay," Chloe says, "it`ll make things easier."

"Noah, we have to leave." Tara says as she grabs my arm. I curiously look to Chloe as I`m dragged out of the tent by Tara. My knees feel weak as Tara holds me close on the walk. Her words seem to blend together, making her spastic sentences seem incoherent. My stomach churns violently as the mushrooms slowly poison me. Tara slaps me to attention and tells me that she was attacked.

The night is calm, but the forest seems to be in a spinning waltz of chaos. Everything moves so quickly and my vision is starting to streak. I trip over something and fall to my knees. I no longer have the strength to stand and fall to the ground. Looking up at the trees, prodding the dark sky, I lose all motor skills and I seem to watch myself from afar.

Tara tries to pull me to my feet and my body is limp. I watch her give up and her eyes suddenly fill with fear as various beams of light shine throughout the darkness. Everything happens in quick snap shots as I lose consciousness. Tara stands over me with a weapon, shaking in her hand. A group of people stand around us and soon Tara is taken. She thrashes about in the tight grips of her abductors as a hooded man bends down towards me. Words are spoken, but it all sounds distant and faint. I watch them take Tara away and the last thing I remember is the butt of my own shotgun slamming into my head.

I wake with a sudden gasp in the brisk morning. All is quiet but I quickly realize I no longer am inside the wall. As I stand my stomach shifts making its contents bubble up and spew out my mouth. When I get my bearings I look for my gear, but it is nowhere to be seen. I shout out at the top of my lungs. My lungs ache from fatigue and my eyes fill with tears as Tara crosses my mind.

Reality sets in and I start to move through the forest. The city tree-line isn`t far and I start to jog. My stomach and head pound with pain as I run atop the frosted ground. Before I reach the streets, I cover my mouth with a rag to avoid the sickness wafting in the air.

As my feet smack off the pavement, I feel the grime ooze through my treads. Several fancy looking houses line the narrow street, I decide my options based off their style. Broken shutters and chipping paint are usually tell-tale signs of unbalanced or broken home. Most of the time you find a handgun or the odd rifle inside; this runs through my mind as I bash through a door. When closing the door I listen attentively for any movement.

After a moment of silence, I drag a couch over and block the door. My immediate death prevention precautionary measures always start with blocking the door.

Twenty minutes later, the house is cleared for anything of use. My newly acquired gear lies in front of me on a glass table. A roll of cloth tape, a can of maraschino cherries and a shitty lighter that barely sparks, sit there uselessly. I sigh heavily and fight back the urge to crumble and give up. My boot comes up into the glass` plate top with force. The items and glass shards, twirl in the air. After letting my emotions out, I pick up the items and notice the glass. A couple pieces look similar to blades and the glimmering surface reflects catches my tired face.

Footsteps come from the porch outside and I freeze. Two men banter amongst themselves; one of them sounds bullish, the other one not so much. As their voices approach the door, I carefully grab a piece of glass and go to the second floor.

My rapid breathing catches some old lint from under the bed inside a room and I try to stifle a cough. Judging by the sound emanating from downstairs, the two men are slicing through the wood with sharp axes; they hardly miss a beat between turns swinging. The crashes sound more distinct and closer. The couch slides across the hardwood floor after a rigid kick by the bullish man. A spectacle of unique sounds can be heard as the men destroy the house in search of anything useful. Just when I think they have left, heavy steps come trudging up the stairs. I swear under my breath. The glass shard in my hand digs into my glove as I start to tense up. A man enters the room, the only distinguishable feature are his bloodied size nines. I wrap the larger end of the shard round and round with the cloth tape. A maximum security prisoner would be proud of this shiv in my hand. The boots kick about the room and useless trash falls to the floor.

"There aint shit up here." The young man says. His voice sounds muffled. This marauder came prepared with mask and all. That`s item number one the recommended apocalypse gear kit. My hand tightly grips the shard as the boots circle the room one more time and stop in the door frame. The boots turn towards the bed and I seize up.

"Hey, I`m going to be a minute, I found something." The man says as he walks towards the bed. My heart could explode at any moment. The boots stop inches before my sweat soaked face. The mattress above the box spring lifts and a porn magazine drops to the floor. A thin, grubby hand reaches down and grabs the smutty magazine. The man turns and sits on the edge of the bed, obviously reading the pornographic literature. My attention is caught when the man rests a small axe against the side of the bed. Upon closer inspection I see that the axe is Tara`s. I begin to see red as the rage builds inside me. The bed starts to slowly rock as the young man tugs on himself. With my heart in my throat I quietly get out from under the bed and stand. A small man covered in a bushy suit sits on the mattress, oblivious to my presence. I rip his mask off and quickly take his head. My shiv presses against his thin neck as he looks at me fearfully.

"What are doing?" The young man asks through his gritting teeth.

"Where`d you get the axe?" I ask.

My eyes watch his face as I try to steady the glass shiv. There is a brief spark of recognition and he calls for help. I try to quiet him but his partner hears the cry. Within seconds the lumbering giant of a man makes his way up the stairs and I hold the smaller man as a human shield. The larger man in similar bush attire enters the room gun aimed high. I throw the young man in front of me, just as a bullet tears through his young face. I push with all my might against the large man when he`s off balance and we both crash into the railing over the steps.

The railing snaps and we both go down the stairs. The larger man continues to shoot out as he tumbles over and over. My side burns with a fiery passion as I clear the trauma from my skull. The larger man shakes the fall from his gaze and tries to stand. I plant a boot on his back on take his mask off. As I place it on, he begins to panic. I silence him with a blow to the head and he goes to sleep.

Minutes later I have the lummox tied to a chair using his own clothes. As I finish the final knots, he stirs from unconsciousness. With Tara`s axe in hand, I stand back from captive and gaze through my protective mask; despite the foul smell from its previous owner. With the axe`s face, I tap the sides of his grizzled mug.

"You son-of-a-bitch-" The man says.

"Save it. Where did you get this?" I ask as I hold the axe out.

The man spits on my mask, hitting my ocular lenses with greenish-black fluid. To show my seriousness of the matter, I drive the pointed side of axe into his shoulder. I muffle his screams by jamming the can of cherries into his mouth.

"You won`t bleed out from that," I say as I pull the axe out, "but it`s going to be hard to doing anything with that side. You`ll be twenty-five percent less efficient out there. You think about that."

I take the can out from his bleeding mouth. Some of his teeth have chipped and the gums are soaking with blood.

"We need her. She`s the future of our species. Can`t you see that?" The man says.

"What have you done to her?" I ask. I hold Tara`s axe over the man`s head, ready for retribution.

"She`ll be a Mother for generations." The man says. I lower the axe and take in the information this pleading soul tells me. "It`s the only way to keep us alive. The earth will provide, we just need to populate it-"

"Stop it with the `save the world` speech. It`s over. All we can do now is fight for the ones we love." I say. The large man sits there silently as he tries to breathe through his bloody nose.

"How do I get back?" I ask. The man hesitates and I drag the sharp edge of my axe along his chest vertically.

"It`s going to sting carrying a pack now." I say.

"I have a map!" He says through the pain.

"Well, why didn`t you say so?" I say.

I gather their gear up and check the pistol. Five shells remain. I lay the map down on a table and the large man instructs me on taking the right path. Based off the distance from the wall, these men were scouts and their late return could raise the alarm. I strap down the light pack and slip into the bushy Ghillie suit.

"Is there a password or something to get in?" I ask. The large man has an odd laugh.

"It`s not a tree fort." He says.

"No, it`s a fucked up baby farm," I say, "How do I get in? Don`t make me ask twice."

"North-west entrance there`s an underground tunnel for people." He says. I head for the exit and make my way through the chopped up door.

"You can`t leave me like this," The man yells, "kill me or let me go."

"I`m no stranger to killing a man," I say, "but living on this earth is far worse than the quick way out."

As I head away from the house, his protesting shouts fade as if there weren`t any to begin with.

With my map out before me, I make my way through the forest. The day`s gray light slowly begins to transition to obscurity and I quicken my pace. I follow the man`s directions and eventually I spot the peaked trees off in the distance. My approach is cloaked by the bush-like suit I wear and no alarms are raised. The personnel entrance is as discreet as he described and I crawl through the small space and I poke my head out. Several guards patrol the area with heavy rifles. One well-placed shot from one of them and my chest would be greatly aerated with a large exit wound.

Night is falling upon the grounds and I know I must act now. With the handgun gripped in my sweaty palm, I crouch from cover to cover. Various tents and shacks come into view and I look for any sign of Tara. People begin to light torches for lighting and the orange flashes streak across my desperate eyes. When the coast is clear, I take one of the torches and plant it inside a stockpile of logs. I retreat back into the shelter of greenery as I watch the flames lick the sides of the dried wood. The fire builds and builds simultaneously with the adrenaline in my body. The sweat excreting from my pores is full of fear and instinctual drive. A small group of people builds around the blaze as they try to extinguish the inferno. I see my opportunity and make my way through the crowd with my head low.

My eyes dart through the camp in search of Tara, but she`s absent. She`s nowhere to be seen. I scan the faces in the camp and my eye catches a glimpse of someone I`ve seen before. Chloe.

I tightly grip her arm and pull her into a tent. With force, I toss her to the ground and keep my gun trained on her. Her eyes no longer hold a spark, but the same fear I have has taken its place.

"Where is she?" I ask. My hand trembles slightly.

"She`s safe." Chloe says.

I suppress the burning urge to cough and clear my throat.

"You don`t look so good." Chloe says as she advances.

"Stay back." I say and pull the hammer back on the pistol. "Take me to her."

I forcefully grab Chloe and she whimpers. Either for sympathy or deception, I can`t tell. The colony is in a state of emergency as they combat the flames and smoke. Chloe leads the way through the camp and she brings me to a larger shack. I push her through the door with my gun in the small of her back.

The shack is dark, but I can see a shadowy figure lying on a cot. After restraining Chloe, I check the figure and I see Tara`s slack face.

"What`s wrong with her?" I ask Chloe.

"She`s resting," Chloe says, "she was given the greatest gift, a child."

I stop and look over at Chloe who doesn`t bat a lash as she tells me this.

"You`re all insane." I say.

"We are saving the world." Chloe says. I try to shake the sleep from Tara and she slowly starts to stir.

"Noah?" Tara asks in a shaky voice.

"I`m here." I say.

Tara embraces me tightly and lets out a soft sob.

"They hurt..." Tara says.

"I know, sis. We have to go." I say.

"I told you so." Tara says with a weak smile. I chuckle softly to hold back my sadness.

I help Tara to her feet and return her trusty axe to its rightful owner. As we head out of the shack Chloe continues her lucrative ramble about the survival of the human race. Tara breaks from my grip and lunges at Chloe with her axe at the ready. I do my best to hold her back, but the repeated blows from Tara`s weapon, turns Chloe`s head into a slush of flesh. A couple more hits and Tara finishes her rampage.

"You didn`t need to do that." I say. Tara takes a deep breath and falls to her knees. She wipes the blood and tears away from her face as she quietly sobs. I reach out to Tara and she composes herself.

"She held me down while they..." Tara starts, but I quiet her down with my embrace.

"I`m sorry, Tara." I say. She shrugs me off and gets to her feet. We both leave the tent.

Darkness has now descended in the forest and only the flames from the torches light small sections. Tara and I slip into the chaos of the colony and make our way to the tunnel for our escape. We run through the blackness of the area with the faint light guiding our way. A shout comes from behind us and we both don`t break our stride. A crackle of a rifle splits the air and we hit the ground. A group of guards trample through the forest behind us. The sound of their rifles reloading makes my bones shudder inside my tired muscles.

"Tara, keeping going straight," I say, "there`s a tunnel. It`s the way out."

I stand up from my spot and look towards our pursuers. Several ominous and terrifying silhouettes approach us. I fire two shots, with one finding a target. A shrilling scream pierces the night and the dark figures crouch for cover. Tara has gotten some ground and all I see are her shoe treads disappear into the night.

My lungs hurt from exertion and my body feels weaker by the minute, but I don`t stop. The cracking shots in the dark make me duck and cover as I run. I reach the tunnel, but Tara isn`t there. I call out and a large figure smashes into me. A man`s grip squeezes my neck as I feel a knee drive into my solar plexus. Punch after punch start to rain down on my face. Through the strikes I see Darwin`s tense face in flashes. Splashes of stars fill my vision as he continues to land blows on my broken face. Out of Darwin`s sight, I see Tara creep out from the tunnel. Her eyes are like black holes in the sockets as she emerges like a demon from hell itself. Darwin winds up once more as I gag on teeth and blood. Tara holds the axe two-handed and strikes down with enough force to send the sharp pointed end through his face. The point juts out from his cheek and there is a brief moment of surprised recognition in Darwin`s face as his brain starts to shut down. His body hits the ground with a dull thump and I reach out to Tara but all strength has left me. The last thing I feel are her hands dragging through the tunnel.

The next morning I wake to a wave of pain throughout my body. The cold air numbs my swollen face and I feel for damage. Tara sits across from me looking out into the forest. A let out a wet cough and turn over onto my side. My hands cover my mouth and when I pull away I see black and red spots. Tara quickly turns to me and rushes over but I wave her back.

"How are you doing?" Tara asks.

"I`ve been better." I say. I wipe my hands of my lung matter and look to Tara. I get to my feet as Tara holds my arm.

"Thanks for coming back." Tara says.

"Was there any other choice?" I ask. She smiles and hugs me tightly.

"What now?" She asks.

"We move." I say.

Tara and I walk through the forest. The gray sky starts to piss rain over us, but we carry on. There isn`t must else you can do. We move on in hopes of finding something better, but the reality of it all is that there might not be anything. But we can`t stop and won`t stop. If it isn`t hope that drives us, it`s love. In the end that`s all we really need.