23) The Dread of the Future.

We should have checked the food before we walked away. To suggest it was enough for two people for three days is a joke. Yes, it might do so if we just nibble occasionally at it.
There were three ears of corn, small, and nothing to go with the, so tough and dry. There is some kind of meat, which was tough, foul tasting and covered in thick salt. I guess it's designed to ensure it doesn't go off too quickly, and has been heavily cured, but it needs plenty of water to wash it down, and that is the hard part.We have quite a bit now, probably enough to drink to last more than a few days. but when swilling it back to counter the awful food, it goes quickly.
Lastly, a large loaf of bread, but it is solid as a rock. No mold that I can tell, so it will have to do. The combination has created a small meal for this turn's ration, enough to sustain is for now, but it tastes horrible.

Clouds passing over have left the entire place looking washed out, as if a white blanket has been placed upon us, to stem our growth. It affects everything we do, because the temperature has lowered, and so the hive of activity that there was. That won't stop us, it can't, we have no choice.

'Once we finish this feast, we can trek out once again and go get more wood. This time, what we gather we bring back here and try rebuild our houses. Enough to withstand any kind of seriously bad weather.' I suggest. Judy nods, unable to speak due to nibbling on a particularly tough piece of meat.

'Shame we can't use their machine to mill some of the wood into planks, that would make for a very serious and stable home.' I continue.

Judy swallows finally. 'Yeah, you can, but like everything else in here, it comes with a price.'

I can see everything here does have a price, and everything is for sale. The only free thing is the land and our house, but that is free so that more people choose to come and live here, so there are more to trade with, and those with the most make a lot of money from it.

We both get up together, and prepare to work again. We were sat in what is supposed to be Judy's house, not so much a house as a shack, and barely even that. She has done the best with it that she could, some straw on her bed, cleaned out the rubbish and cleared the hard mud flooring, but the roof is virtually none existent, and the walls are filled with gaps. The moment it rains, everything will become boggy and wet.

We can't think about that for now, other than to do better. Once again we both head out of the gate, past the guards. We can never see their faces, always hidden by cloth across or a leather mask, but from what I can see, combined with their fearsome looking weapons they wouldn't be ones I would choose to argue with.

I dread the thought of another day of endless hacking away, sipping carefully at the water, and dragging it all through, but the end product will hopefully prove worthwhile. I hope Judy does better, but I know her cutting is poor.

'How about I cut down some of these trees, the most manageable ones, and then as I cut pieces off, you drag them to our homes?' I suggest. Judy I can tell is feeling the same as I, the hard work just at the beginning, it's going to be tough. She nods quietly, and stands back as I swing away.

*

It's surprising what a bit of food and decent water can do for you. I attacked the wood like a savage, hacking away at it and felled trees in no time. I will have to find a way to sharpen my axe, but thankfully the trees aren't too big and so go down easily.

Judy looks exhausted, walking back and forth, carrying all the heavy pieces. I respect her, she never complained, and just got on with it.

A few times going into the camp we were approached by others, begging for help. I guess begging isn't forbidden, but no one seems to offer help for anything here, and we have enough to do looking after our own.

In all there are around sixty pieces of timber, and another twenty smaller pieces. More than enough to shore up the houses.

I finally pull out the saw blade. It is long with jagged teeth, but no handle. I wrap a piece of cloth around it for now, to make holding it easier, but in time I will have to find a knife, or trade for one, and carve something a bit more fitting. We really need more tools, but getting something to trade for them is going to be either difficult, or dangerous.

I get to work, cutting notches into the timber, then cutting the smaller pieces into narrow joins, slices even that will hold it together. It's not as good as nails and a hammer, or even rope to bind it, but it will do, as long as we leave some of the heavier pieces at the bottom for leverage.

Judy looks at me, watching me work.

'Where did you learn to do that?' She finally asks.

I shake my head. 'I'm not entirely certain, another of those things I don't properly remember. I seem to know enough to do things, but have no memory of how I came to know such things.'

'Most people have no skills, and little knowledge of anything, other than surviving.' Judy says. It seems sad, how things have become. I wonder if mankind is dying.

Bit by bit I drag pieces of heavy wood around our shacks, and fasten bridges between them, across as a plinth, to hold it sturdily in place. It takes time, but isn't too much hard work, and before long it takes shape. It is only a simply wood surround, but enough, and with a fixed roof will withstand most things.

I stop for a moment. 'OK, now get some river water, in anything you can find to carry it, make some of this mud into a kind of clay, and line the holes within the wood with it, to keep out the wind and rain from outside.' I say. Judy springs to attention over it. I think she is so in awe of what I have done here, she is excited to help out.

While she works at it, I continue and do the same to my home, using the last of the wood to surround my place. Before long they both look much sturdier, and though I say so myself, I actually think they look better than most of those near us.

Judy works away at it, on both places, slopping around and using the softened mud to fill gaps. As light begins to fade, it is done. The roof needs a cover, and the floor inside will need attention on them both, but for now it feels much safe, and quieter. The protection from the chill night air is good.

Judy doesn't say anything, but I can see the emotion in her eyes. She just leaps at me and hugs me. It feels nice, the envelope of arms around me, cared for and respected. I hug her back, feeling something much greater than fear for the first time.

We are both clearly shattered. I cannot help but imagine that she might come and share my bed with me tonight, but it is obvious after all the things she must have been through, it is the last thing she wants or needs.

'We need something to cover the roof, and better tools. We need to find a way to get some.' I say.

'No one in camp other than the wood merchants will have such things. There are other sellers, some selling high quality goods, but they expect a lot in trade.' Judy says.

'I guess I am going to have to go wandering outside tomorrow.' I say. Judy looks horrified.

'No, don't.' She says harshly. She is clearly rattled by the thought of me going. Her eyes are wide, and suddenly she is trembling.

'It's OK, I won't go far, or for long.' I say, trying to reassure her.

'I can trade, I can sell myself to them, they will pay for that.' She says, and now it is my turn to look horrified. She returns a look of shame.

'No, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're too good for that, we won't do that, ever.' I say, and again she gives me that look, as if she has never heard a man say such things to her.

Again she hugs me, tighter than ever, but I welcome it.

'Sleep, then tomorrow I shall take the axe for defense, and go have a wander.' I say.

'OK.' Judy says reluctantly.

I go to my bed, preparing to lay and sleep as the last light fades. I look around and see her stood by the door. She looks at me, and to my bed, and I know, she feels obligated.

'It's OK, you go get some rest. I'll see you in the morning early, and get started.'

Judy smiles at me, that pleasant positive smile of hers. 'See you in the morning.' She says, and is gone before I can answer.

The last moment of waking, I think of the day ahead, and what is to come. Once again that deep sense of dread returns...

22) Alone In A Barren World.

The heat has become unbearable. I just want to run and dip in the flowing river nearby. It seems so cool and pleasant. It looks generally clear, apart from occasional bits of muddy colours washing past. It looks like rust, but I am assured that it isn't. I stand on the edge of the waters, looking in, but repeatedly I am told it is affected by radiation, and if I go in long enough it can affect my health. I can't even drink it, and even boiling it won't clear the problem. It has to be purified water, from a clean source, and sellers of this in the camp refuse to divulge where it comes from. If I knew, I would no doubt trade it myself!

We have been out here for hours, hacking in turn at the wood. Both of us are so fatigued, we can't last long before growing out of breath, and our muscles ache to the point of feeling faint.

'So, how much wood do we have to gather, for trade, and what is it worth?' I ask.

'We cut down two large trees, around fifty feet high, cut all the branches clean, and assemble into logs of varying lengths. The main trunks can either be used for building or trade, and the smaller pieces for firewood. The larger pieces will get us enough food for perhaps two to three days, if we share and eat sparingly.' Judy replies.

I admit, I am shocked. The look on my face is enough for that. I wonder what of older or sick people; how would they cope, but I don't think I can deal with the answer, so don't give voice to my thoughts.

'Smaller pieces, firewood, we might get enough to fill a leather sack with water, about the size of your hand. No more.'

I just shake my head. the world has always been a tough place to survive, for people with little to offer or support themselves with. Still, maybe it's just me but it seems near impossible. No safety net, no government, nothing. We truly are alone.

I just look at Judy, and can see from the expression on her face, she understands how I feel. She clearly feels the same, but of course we are in no position to do anything about it.

'This is the only place I know around here. Since I got here, I've been gathering like this to live. I haven't wandered far for fear of slavers catching me again, or worse.'

This again shocks me. 'Worse? What could possibly be worse?'

'I guess if you go wandering, you might find out. I doubt you'll like what you find.'

I leave it at that, but I know deep down I won't be living like this for the rest of my life.

I pick up a few of the larger logs, as many as I can carry. Judy grabs a decent pile of the smaller ones, and together we head back through the gate.

As we clear the entrance, Judy points towards an area of the camp, quite separate from the rest. It appears a hive of activity, tables, booths and areas which are clearly trade. The people sitting behind, the sellers, most look a poor bunch, greasy, dirty people. I can see from the looks on their faces they care only about profit, and nothing for humanity. This camp stinks.

The largest part of the trade area is dedicated to wood trades. It has to be, because most people here are offering wood. We go towards that, and join what seems an endless queue.

'Can't we pile our wood up and go back to get the rest?' I ask. Judy shakes her head.

'If we leave anything here unguarded someone will take it. If it's not in your home, or around it, then its considered free take.

'Typical.' I say. It doesn't surprise me.

'I'll leave these small logs here. You shuffle our stash along as the queue moves, and I'll go back and forth to get what we've cut. OK' Judy suggests. It seems a good idea.

'OK, don't carry too much, and be careful, right now you're the only friend I have.'

Judy smiles, and turns to walk off. I like her, she is a good person. I'm lucky to have found someone to connect with.

As the queue winds down, and I approach the trade center for wood, I can see it is very busy. Workers are using some odd form of cattle, decrepit and bony animals, like cows, but discoloured compared to what I recall, to move large quantities of wood and bits. There are machine noises going on at the back, and as I lean around I can see they have something to cut it. It seems they are cutting it up into planks, and other objects. Very useful.

Finally, after what seems another age, and just in time for Judy to return with another load we are at the front. A very fat man, bald and sweating profusely looks up at me.

'What for tender?' He grunts, spittle dripping from his mouth. Disgusting.

I don't know what to reply, and hesitate, but Judy doesn't.

'Prime Oak, five large lengths, fifteen smaller lengths, branches.' She says eagerly.

The fat man pushes hard against his straining seat and stands. His eyes give the best rendition they can of interest. He surveys our stash, and seems to like what he sees.

'Two canteens of water, three days full food, and your pick of the tools, third grade only.' He says.

I look at Judy. It seems a decent deal for now. Judy is clearly trying to restrain herself. She nods, smiling briefly. Some more of their workers come plodding out, grabbing hold of the wood. I react quickly, putting my hand on the pile before it can be lifted.

'Goods first.' I say, staring at the fat man. He waits, staring back and all around us go quiet, except for the cutting beyond. Finally he breaks down into a weak smile, before reaching under his table. He drops three sacks onto the top, two with food, one with water. I can almost hear that clean lovely fresh water sloshing around.

Before I can ask where the tools are, the man drops a pack of them roughly on the table. they are certainly worn, no weapons, and mostly rusty.

'Quickly, we have others waiting to trade.' He says impatiently.

None of it looks particularly good, but then... I spot what appears to be the metal part of a saw, no handle. I know I have the ability to fix it. I take a quick hold of it and nod. Judy looks at me, surprised and unsure.

'It's good, trust me.' I say, and she nods back. We gather our things, and walk quickly back to our place.

As we stand beside what could be classed as homes, Judy looks at me. I can see what she is thinking; will I just go inside with it all, and leave her without? If I did, there appears to be no rule against it, and little she could do about it. I look at her, and then hand my bags to her.

'Here, you go prepare as best you can a ration of food and water for each of us. Once we've eaten, we're going to go back out, do some more work, and I'll show you what we can do with this new tool of ours.'

Judy breaks out into a huge smile. She seems pleased to know she can trust me. Trust, the hardest thing in life to find, and here we both are, like discovering gold or gems, we have it together...

21) My New World.

I slept heavily. Must have made some noise, but no one complained. Got up this morning, and felt tired still, ache all over, and I feel so hungry I could eat a dead horse.

People are busy, milling around the camp. I can smell food cooking, smoke rising out of tents and shacks, and most look happy enough. It's going to be a hard slog trying to get going, but I know now that I have a base, and that this place is safe for me, I can go roaming and have somewhere to come back to.

I picked through my rucksack last night, before I drifted off into sleep. Not much left, that creepy man, hidden in the shadows, he seems to have take all the food I had. The two pistols are still there, but no ammo. So I'm still in the same situation as before. I don't even have a pot to boil water in. I could ask someone, but I don't want to be beholden to anyone, no telling what they might want in return, now or later on.

I guess it's time to go searching, and find some way to earn something to trade.

As I stand up I feel my bones crack, I am really feeling my age. I stretch out my arms, reach up to the sky. It is still warm, but the sky is white, hazy, like a storm might be coming. I look out from the ragged entrance to what there is of my camp, and see people all over, busy with their lives.
Beyond, on the walls, there are men, dressed in black leathers. They're guarding the place it seems. some have rifles in their hands, others more confident, slung over their backs. One has a white brimmed hat on it, maybe he's in charge. I'll seek him out later.

I step out from my small camp, and catch sight of a woman in a similar structure of her own. Her clothes look worn, her hair a mess, but she has a pretty face. She smiles at me. I try to smile back, but the hunger pangs are eating away at me.

'Morning stranger.' She shouts. I had expected people to be wary of me, but she seems friendly.

;Morning.' I shout back, at which she is coming over to me now. I notice she is barefoot, and cannot help but see her camp is bare, like mine.

'Hi, My name's Judy, what's yours?' She asks.

'I don't know, I can't remember. Don't remember much at all, except how to run away.' I reply. I scratch my head, my brain hurts as I try to recall something.

'I was with slavers, used for everything from their pleasure with my body, right up to washing their clothes and cooking for them. They got attacked by Raiders, and I used that chance to run. Ran for days, and came across this place just as I was about to die. Been here about three days now, still trying to get it together.'

I shake my head at her, in disbelief at how the world has changed. Slavery has always existed, but even when the world is dying, still it goes on. Horrible.

'How's it going, finding it hard to get it together here?' I ask.

She nods. 'People will protect each other here, but no one will help you eat or drink, and if you steal you're either thrown out or shot.'

'Where do I begin?' I ask.

She turns, points to her shack. 'My home is worse than yours, broken down and no roof, and it does rain from time to time. The rain isn't nice, dirty and makes everything stink, not to mention the radiation.'

I have no answer for her; I had hoped she might help me!

'Say, when I got my shack, there was an axe in there. How about I lend you my axe, and you go chop wood. With that, you can rebuild your camp, do some to mine, and get us some wood for the fire, and maybe to trade. You chop, I'll carry. How about it?'

I didn't really need to think about it, I had no other means of doing anything, other than going out into the Wasteland again unarmed. I smile and nod.

'OK stranger, let's get going.'

I follow Judy, as she leads me through the outskirts of the camp. I'm surprised at how big it is with so many people. There is a small side gate, well manned and guarded. We can go in and out, as long as they recognize us. If not, they just shoot and we're dead, no questions asked.
Near to the camp is a river, and beside that the beginning of some woods. Others have chopped trees down, but there is plenty to spare. We head over.

'You still have to watch out here. Raiders, they do attack from time to time. They can't get into the camp, too well guarded, but still they will go for us if they see us out here.' She says. I feel vulnerable, no idea what to do other than run if someone attacks.

We settle on a position. Not too far into the woods, and some good trees not too big to cut, about twenty feet tall, lots of branches.

The axe isn't brilliant, but it'll do, and as I swing, it feels useful, cutting well into the trunk of the tree. It's going to be a long hard day, as tired and empty as I am, but still, I have hope, that things can and will only get better...

20) Welcome to Paradise.

As soon as I heard the words Get him... my heart sank. The looks on peoples faces range from deranged anger, to complete confusion. Most seem to have no idea what is going on, and even the angry ones don't seem ready to follow the order.

Nobody reacts. I just stand there, probably looking like a Wasteland mess, in need of a wash and a good hot meal, not to mention a proper sleep.

A woman comes around from behind the others. She is late in life, her skin darkened, but mostly from endless exposure to sunlight, it seems leathery and full of cracked lines. Her eyes are a piercing blue, like small lakes of life within her. Her hair is long and straggly, a vibrant grey, looking out of place in a world that seems to have been engulfed in simplistic destruction. Her clothes are very much expedient, full of pockets and hidden areas, no doubt lined with guns and knives.

She approaches me, all the while staring, refusing to take her eyes off me. Attention changes to her, and I can feel the nervousness around, as people make imperceptible steps back, gradually moving away from what might any moment develop into a scene of conflict.

I can't do with any more arguments. Whatever she wants, I have nothing left to give, and I am so tired and hungry that if they want to eat me, than they can; food poisoning and all.

'Stranger, what are you doing here?' She asks. I am surprised by her drawl, the twang to her speech. I admit I am also surprised that she has spoken to me, in a manner which isn't sly or screaming at the top of her voice.

'I came out of a vault, and have no memory of that place or who I am, not even my name. I wandered around, escaped mad people trying to eat me, and these burnt looking creatures that seemed to want to kill me, for no reason, and I ended up down there.'

The woman just continues to stare at me. She has a mean look about her features, but that could be just the ravages of time and experience of strangers. As a woman in a world like this, I can't imagine it would be easy. I stare back, but not doing too good a job of it as my eyes keep closing due to tiredness.

'How the hell did you survive long enough to find your way here?' She asks, very directly. She clearly isn't being humorous about it.

I shake my head. 'Luck perhaps, and a desire to live.'

As I say that others murmur, some nodding their heads. It seems to be a common sentiment, one that they welcome.

Without saying another word the woman begins pawing at me. She rifles though my clothes, I guess looking for weapons. She then drags her thick, clubby hands through my hair, and then lifting my lips up, looking at my teeth.

'I guess you've been protected somewhere, no signs of radiation, and generally in good health.' She says.

'Why would that matter, I mean radiation?' I ask. Several others laugh.

'I guess you never heard those mighty bombs dropping then.' An old looking man says rhetorically. His skin is like the old woman's, dark and leathery, sun worn. He smiles through broken, yellowed teeth. He looks so thin if he turned sideways he might disappear. I just shrug, trying to return the smile, badly.

'OK, he seems harmless enough. Lock up that door again and I'll show him round.' She says, and I let out a great sigh of relief. As I do I can feel the tension from others dissipate, and once again the sun is shining brightly in the sky for a reason.

For the first time I feel able to look beyond these others, and see the camp. There are various rough looking shacks, and some cloth tents. Occasionally there are camp fires, some have groups of people round them, smoking, eating, drinking, chatting. Beyond all that is a high fence, made of all sorts of scraps, wood, metal, bits and pieces, even an old fridge.

It's like an old African Shanty Town, only I wonder if that place exists any more. Perhaps in time I will find out.

As we walk around a well worn path, she guides me towards a very small, low slung cloth tent. It is round in shape, very battered, with some holes in the roof. Inside is a rickety wooden bed, without no coverings or pillow. On its floor is a hessian type covering, with bits of grass growing through.

'This here was old Mrs Samson's place. She died and it's been left untended since. you can move in here, make of it what you will. If you want to eat, you either have to go looking for wood to share or sell, gather your own water and make sure to boil it from the stream. you can also scavenge the Wasteland, provided it doesn't kill you first! Then sell whatever you find. This shack need fixing up, that's up to you.' she says, ready to turn away.

'Wait, what's you name?' I ask. The look on my face must say everything about how I feel.

'They call me Mae, but some just say Ma, though I'm nobody's Ma.' She says, and as she once again moves to leave, she reaches into her pocket, pulls out what looks to be some stale bread and hands it to me. I take it humbly, feeling such a wealth of emotion that I cannot express it any other way than to hug her. She takes the meaning and smiles briefly, before leaving.

Before she is totally out of sight, she looks back at me one last time. 'Ain't nobody gonna do it for ya, you want ta survive, you'd best learn quickly and get it together.' She says. I nod quickly, accepting the terms and she is gone.

It looks a mess this small shack, but there is room to improve and repair, and with the others I can make something of a home for myself. I take out the bread and bite at it eagerly. I imagined it might be foul, but it is surprisingly good and I finish it quickly. wonderful.

It will be enough for now. I need sleep. the bed looks anything but inviting, but I don't care, I would sleep on the floor if need be. I drop down, feeling the deep ache in my limbs, and allow myself to drift off into a better world of dreams and hope. I dream of things to come, plans to make, and places to explore. In my mind, I know, my journey and my adventure have finally, truly just begun...

David Cowdall - Official Website

19) The Death of Trust.

In that split second between leaping and falling, I feel such a range of emotions, that I feel confused by what is happening. I leap out into this expanse again, knowing there is water beneath me, but possibly a horrible fate decided by twisted metal and spikes. I can hear the catcalls above, waiting for me venomously.
That moment of elation, when I lift up, filled with hope that I should grab a hold of something solid, and reach safety. The feeling doesn't last, as I become awash with dread, that I have entirely missed my desire, and gained no purchase. I can feel an instant explosion of Adrenalin course through my body, and then that sinking inside becomes real as I notice the imperceptible sense of descent, perhaps into permanent oblivion.

Before I have time to think, I see the face in the shadows, and though it is too dark to see properly, I know instinctively who it is. He reaches down quickly, grabs at my hand around my wrist.

I know who he is, the man who welcomed me into his home, and then abandoned me at my weakest point.

His grip is firm, certain, likely beyond anything I could currently muster. My arm wrenches in its socket, as the entire weight of my body tugs at it, gravity imploring to let go. The man peers out into the dim lights, and I see his broken smile. He looks at me just as much a predator as any I have seen. I see his mind is broken, half sane, half animal. Soon, he will be like those poor beasts that chased me. I guess this is their fate, and perhaps that of all of us, to become wasted and decayed, in body and mind.

He hoists me up like a large piece of meat, and for a moment allows me to dangle there, hanging as an ornament. His eyes catch the light and sparkle, glistening as if enjoying the morsel before the meal.

I can feel my body trembling, but before I can open to mouth to protest, or consider a plan of action, the man swings me around, into the darkness behind him. I crash to the floor, feeling the cold, dusty concrete of the tunnel we are in. The door that hid this place is long gone, crashed down no doubt to the bottom of the hall, submerged forever in a pit of water to rust. I feel around, trying to regain my bearings, but all I can see is his shape in the shadows.

Again I feel that dreaded sinking feeling, as instead of talking to me, he mumbles something, but his sentence trails off into a growl, nonsensical. I cannot understand what might have tipped him from sane to insane, maybe my presence, the sight of someone normal might have knocked his consciousness, so that he feels closer to animal than human.

Any moment, and he will leap at me. Leap: an idea, as he wavers in the darkness, stood on the edge. With all my might I force myself to stand quickly, leaping forward at him. I feel my hands crumple into his body, the strange cry he gives out in surprise as I push as hard as my weary muscles will allow. Not too far, I drop to the ground as I push, and feel elation again as I see his form drop backwards, arms swinging out as he loses control, of himself and his balance. He swings away, backwards down into the water. I hear nothing, see nothing. All I know is I have no time, I pick myself up and turn to move away, down into the darkness.

I feel my way along the tunnel, smooth dusty walls. The place is dry and quiet, like some kind of stone temple. At last I feel my way to the end, ignoring the terrible thought that it might lead nowhere, but I knew instinctively that if the man came this way there must have been a reason. I feel around, and there is a door, closed, solid, likely metal. If it is barred, then once again I am stuck.
I feel around, find a handle, success. It is round, smooth still, and cold to touch. I can tell a key must be used to lock it centrally, praying to dead gods with all my might, I turn it. Success!

I turn the handle, and open it. There are more stairs, grey concrete ones, this time all intact. Leading up, and down, but the ones down are also submerged in water. There are lights on the wall, oblong, dirty and dim, but enough to see where it might head. I cannot help but wonder where this power source comes from.

Enough dawdling, I must progress. I move quickly up the stairs, feeling my legs ache, lack of food still, and weary from all the stress. I climb for what seems ages, all of it the same. dull grey.

I am at the top, and another door. this one red, looks the same as the other one, smooth and solid metal. I cannot imagine what I might find when I open it, but still I tense, praying again that it might be unlocked. I turn the handle, and it refuses to move. It is locked!

I struggle against it, almost in panic. I punch the door, kick it, slam it with the back of my hand for all the good it will do. As I hit it hard once again, I hear voices beyond. Small muttering here and there, silent whispers. I can hear someone say the creatures have found their way in, but others disagree.

'Help!' I shout, even if they are savages wanting to make a meal of me, I have no other way. the voices raise up again, they sound as panicked now as I am.

'Help me, please just open the door.' I plead again.

'Who is this?' A voice asks, then silence.

I feel stupid, but I don't even know my name. 'I can't remember my name, I came from this vault and have no memory.

'Open the door.' A voice calls harshly. I can hear others disagree.

'Are you alone?' Another voice asks, sounds like a woman.

'Yes, I escaped those things in the tunnel, got trapped in here. Please, if you don't open up now I will be stuck down here. I can't go back.' I cry. I must sound truly desperate, because that is how I feel.

Silence and nothing now, as if they have abandoned me. I drop my head to my chest, crestfallen and lost.

I feel ready to give up, but as I am about to slump over and lay on the floor, I hear a key, metallic, it cannot be, but it is and they turn it, turn the handle and push open the door. Light from outside floods in, and fresh air. It feels so good, smells like life.

I feel re energized, able to stand up. As my vision clears, I see a rag tag bunch of strangers stood outside, and see beyond what appears to be a camp. There are dozens of people, and children!

Finally, my salvation.

'Get him!' Someone shouts, and the group grab me. More torment...


www.davidcowdall.com

18) I can fly!!

I wish I could. Walking is such a chore, but then flying up is where it's at, not flying down like a brick. It feels that I am falling forever, that I am like Alice and I am tumbling down and down, just wondering where it will all end, curiouser and curiouser.
That all stops when I plunge hard into some icy black water, its surface hits me with a crack and I feel my legs crumple up, but still no sharp pains, no signs of anything broken. I fell so far I must have picked up a lot of speed, and now as I plunge into this icy lake, or whatever it is, it has pushed me far under.
Finally my descent has stopped, but my lungs are bursting, I need to breathe but I cannot, not yet. I swim, dragging my arms and my legs flailing trying to raise myself above the waterline. I open my eyes and the water stings, my whole skin tingles with it. There is something in the water affecting me, making me shiver and my body screams out to breathe in, to let in the water and in a moment the struggle will be gone and the darkness eternal.

Hold on... One more... Moment... Passing... Out...

I breathe in heavily as the surface brakes, my eyes flying around wildly as I gulp at the air. It is stale, smells rank of something bitter, like a kind of acid within, but at least it's not plain water going into my lungs.

Now I just feel how cold it is, not frozen, but still my body temperature is dropping. These rags I have on my back are barely fit for the journey I had planned, let alone this. As I look around I am surprised by two things: First, that I am not hurt, I fell so far, and I can see the wreckage of the metal stairs adorning the sides of the walls, broken and twisted, like paper in a hurricane. It kind of twists and turns as it has broken and fallen down, clinging desperately to the walls here and there, like some kind of decoration.

The second thing to surprise me is how well lit it is down here. What worries me most is how am I going to get out of there.

A snapping sound interrupts my thoughts, and I hear what sounds like bone hitting metal. There is no splash into the water beside me, only a thudding splat. As I allow my vision to narrow in on it, I can see it is one of the creatures that was chasing me, its body wasted and withered, as if it doesn't need to eat, or just hasn't. Its skin has a yellow tint, like it is jaundiced, and any hair on its head looks wiry, as if it is some kind of fake dummy, wired up to act a certain way. When I first caught sight of it I panicked, thinking it was going to come after me, but now I can see it is impaled on a spike of metal sticking up, right through its abdomen, up through its neck. It surely must be dead.

Another cracking sound, banging around the walls that echoes and then another thud. This time closer to me, and the metal stairs move a little, the rending of metal and terrible screeching. Will it all come down on me?

The second one doesn't spike, but it hits so much against the hard metal it breaks, then collapses dead into the water. I grimace, it is disgusting. It floats near me, twitching and trying to move, face down in the water. I wonder, will nothing end it?

The cold, and these things, those stairs hanging above me, I know I must move now. The walls seem sheer, and I think if I climb the stairs they might all fall and crush me. I cannot win. I turn and look, trying to see in the dim light. I cannot tell where the illumination comes from, all I can feel is this terrible shivering in the bitter water.

I try to swim, but my arms and legs feel numb from the cold. I was so busy looking around and feeling in awe that I had lived, so unlikely, that all the while I was dying from hypothermia. Stupid.

I swim as best I can toward the edge of the walls, it seems like a very high corridor leading straight up. There are shadows of doorways here and there, where the stairs once led into. I can't get up there, but there is another, around ten feet above me. There must be another below the water, but the entire section is likely submerged, so up it has to be.

The wreckage of the stairs goes just close enough that I might be able to leap across, provided it holds. I have no alternative, I just have to try.

I look up, and I am certain I can see more of those things, hidden in wavering shadows, looking down upon me. I wonder why it is they want to kill? Perhaps they blame me, or us humans for their state. I climb, grab a hold onto an outcrop of metal, and pull hard. It feels like the hardest thing I have ever done, my body feels electrified with pain, from cold and tiredness. the sleep I had was short, and restless, not enough.

The metal feels numb against the skin of my hand, reminding me how bad my situation is. I pull again, gain a hold of something else, firmer, now lifting my foot up and pressing as best as my weary body will allow. I can feel the stairs shaking as I move, and hear the heavy breathing of those things above, what a perilous state I am in!

Now, close to the opening, shrouded in darkness, I have no idea what I will find beyond, but below is death, and clearly above is a more savage death, so I might as well...

Once again I take a leap of faith, and as I leap a face peers out from the darkness, one that I know, someone I know I cannot trust. He smiles at me as I miss the ledge, falling...

17) Welcome to Heaven... sort of.

The first thing that strikes me upon walking through the narrow corridor is the heat, the warmth. It feels so different to being outside. Out there chill winds pull at your face all the time, and dust swarms and surrounds everything. You can barely keep your eyes open for it, bits and debris making your eyes sting and vision difficult.
Another thing is the changing temperature, sometimes so baking hot with the sun scalding your skin, and others, especially at night, it's like being in a blizzard without snow, the wind and cold are just too much to bear.
The only place to escape from the changing climate tends to be inside, and so far from what I have found, the dark places tend to be dangerous, and anywhere else tends to either stink, rancid pools of water and various rotting items, to people who just want to engage with me: as food!

This place is so different. I can see the yellow glow of lights ahead, and feel the warmth coming from there. Still, I cannot help but wonder if I am being invited to dinner, where I am the main course.

The warmth feels nice, just right, and the place smells reasonably fresh, good air circulating. Seems like a decent place to hole up, but still, I would prefer to be up top, with windows so I can see out. I would love a place I can tend to, settled, a base to explore from, but I have a feeling I am going to need to find more weapons, better ones, more ammunition, and tools for all sorts, not to mention food, clean water, and as important as anything, some kind of medicine, in case I fall ill.

'Go right ahead, just keep it cool and we'll be fine with each other. Don't touch anything.' The gravelly voiced man insists, following behind me. I know it is foolish to walk ahead with a stranger following, but I was out of choices and I feel a deep weariness, something that only sleep and food can fend off.

As I walk into the open area, there are metal bunks, singles, with a few blankets dotted around. A couple of rough looking pillows too. Beside them are battered wooden units, acting as kind of cabinets. There are bags and things laying around the outside, the walls which appear made of metal, perhaps a bunker of sorts. There seems to actually be a large fridge here, I wonder maybe with food in it. I won't touch for fear of a bullet coming my way.
There are chairs, and over in a corner some kind of electrical heater, it glows brightly, the source of all this lovely warmth.

I stop walking and turn to look at the man. 'Do you really have electric here?' I ask.

The man also stops, moving to a corner and sitting in a worn leather looking chair. 'Yep, tapped into one of those conduits over there. Seems to be a pretty steady output too.'

'Pretty neat. I didn't think there would be any such things, no way to generate it. Are there places around that do this? Cities?'

'No idea, I just stay here, out of people's way, out of harms way, and that's good enough for me.'

'You're not curious to find out?' I ask.

'Oh sure, looking like I do, like burnt meat, people shoot first and ask questions later.'

I smile, and shrug. I can understand that, but of course you don't need to be odd looking to get that kind of response it seems. I think it, but don't say it, don't want to do anything to offend him.

The warmth is so enticing. I wonder if I might just drift away, and perhaps when I wake up this nightmare might all be over.

I sit a moment in one of the chairs, feel myself relaxing. I know it is a mistake, but I can't help it. So hungry and tired.

I see the man opposite me, smiling, he seems the same, ready to just let go. Neither of us speak again, just allow the wash of yellow colour to wrap around us.

*

The cold bites into me, I can hear a hard dripping noise. I open my eyes, and it is dark. There is a shadow of illumination before me, obvious by the fact that when I breath I see white vapour coming from my lips. I try to see but it is dark. The heater, it's not gone out, it's actually gone!

The fridge door is open. I stand and feel my way across to it, look inside as best I can. It is empty. Some of the bags are gone, I know that.

Wait... the door I came in from, it's open! Those things, if they remain out there, they can get to me. I look the opposite way, where before there was a large wooden cupboard against the wall, now it stands aside, and another door hangs open beyond. It is dark there, but I can see pins of light ahead.

A scratching sound attracts my attention, back from where I first entered. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck pricking up, and a shiver travelling down my spine. I feel sick.

I won't go back, I have no chance there. I look through the other door, and it opens out into an expansive chamber. there appear to be stairs at the other end, metal ones, leading down somewhere. Between here and there is a body of water, looking so dark, but at peace. I wonder how cold it might be.

A banging noise behind me, a deep sullen drawl, heavy breathing. They have returned, found the door open. I cannot think why this man would rescue me and then leave me, but he has. Again I am alone, except for these wretched things.

I can hear them approaching, I have to go. I grab for my bag, but it is gone. Perhaps that is what he did, took what I had and left. But why leave the door open?

I run, and can feel those things behind me. Any moment, a ruined hand will reach out, its decaying hands will grab at me, tear into my skin. I can feel tears falling down my cheeks, what a hateful world this is.

I leap into the pool of water, thankfully only ankle deep. As I splash and begin to wade heavily through it, I hear another splash behind me, don't look back then another, and more, and a raging torrent of voices calling for me. So angry, so desiring of me in a savage way.

I churn through the water, see the stairs at the end, but they are gone, it is only an entry and a long drop down into darkness beyond. I am truly stuck between certain profound pain into death, or a leap into the unknown.

I cannot stop myself. Something swipes at me, a scratch of sharpness against my skin at the back of my neck. I feel pain reeling out, like needles piercing my skin. That way is unfathomable, a nightmare way to die. Without any hesitation I make one final run, then leap with all my might out into the darkness. I feel myself falling, but I am alone.

Into the dark pit I fall, air wooshing around me, knowing that at any moment I will hit hard and then the darkness will be all that I know...

16) Between the devil and the deep blue sea.

The gunfire echoes around the subway walls, reverberating harshly. It pings around like a bullet spattering against metal.

For moments I expect the kickback, to fall away as it eats into me, tearing my skin and sending blood down across the way. There is none. I feel nothing.

Am I dead? Is this why I cannot feel anything? For seconds my mind screams at me, and my eyes are blurred, trying to make sense of this new reality.

I hear a thud behind me, and something scatters away down the tunnel. My skin is icy cold, and my eyes wide, as if I could stare into space if I looked hard enough.

'You're either very cool, or very stupid, stranger.' The gravelly voice calls out. This brings me back to my senses, my vision clears and the words entering my mind begin to make sense.

I can see the man before me now, still holding the gun, pointed at my way. He hasn't shot me, I feel no wound, and I look around myself, ensuring my feet remain planted firmly in the same spot. It is still quite dark, though where he has opened his door, lights spills out like water down a runoff. There is something slumped behind me, wearing the same torn clothing as the creatures before, a skeletal like figure, prone, like a baby, sleeping; only this isn't sleeping, it's dead.

I turn back and look at the man. He has a wry smile on what is left of his decaying face.

'Why.. why did you shoot that, I mean...' I know what I want to say, but fear to do so in case he lets loose another shot, only this time at me.

'You mean why did I shoot that, when it looks just like me?' The gravelly voice asks, sarcasm evident. I don't answer, still wary of any man holding a gun at me. He know it's what I'm thinking.

'OK, so we look a bit alike, but at least I still have my mind. For now.' The gravelly voiced man says. He lowers his gun, and returns it to a waist holster. I allow myself to breath again.

'Who are you? What is going on here?' I ask.

'Wow, where have you been? Locked up in a cave for a long time?' He asks, laughing. His sarcasm remains, as much as his curiosity.

'Something like that.' I answer. I become aware that I am stood in this subway, surrounded by danger, before some half man half creature, and he is the one asking the questions. Ironic given I have so few answers.

A high pitched cry rings out back down in where I travelled from. I feel a shiver course down my spine.

We look at each other, and I wonder if he will simply return to his place and close the door on me. I look in his eyes, and I can tell it's what he is thinking, wondering whether to trust me or not. I can't blame him.

'I came out of some kind of vault a few days ago, I have little memory of who I am or where I am from, and this whole place seems like something straight out of a nightmare to me!' I said. I hadn't intended to plead, but the truth is I am weary, and hungry, and I know if this man doesn't let me in, I will likely die very shortly.

The stranger sighs deeply. He stands back and shrugs his shoulders. He waves me in. As I walk towards the door I can hear something running, coming this way, many of them.

'OK, in you go, and first sign of trouble from you, you're dead.'

Between the devil and the deep blue sea. I move into the light inside quickly, ignoring the scraping sounds as they chase down the hall towards us. A small act of kindness, but to me in this world it is the first I have known, and I shall not forget it in a hurry.

The stranger pulls on the door, swinging it quickly closed and it slams with a loud bang. I can hear thudding on the other side, and after a few seconds the noise becomes incessant, terrible. I can only imagine what they are like, what they intend to do.

I walk in, and am amazed and surprised at what I find...

15) Escape, but to where?!

I struggle, shaking my body, arms and legs pulling and twisting. At first, I think I must be careful, but the more I move, the more I realize I am bound so tightly by leather ropes, that without some kind of force I will never break free.
Time ticks away, and in this empty darkness, I can sense the movement around me. As if the earth beneath my feet crawls with life, even the tiny lights and flickers of flame, they grab and gnaw at the air, seeking out visibility and existence.

I know if I wait too long, others might come along, a wandering group of bandits, someone or thing seeking food, which might be turn out to be me. I wonder too if I might never escape, and then what, a rotting corpse, stuck here for eternity?

This will not be my damnation.

I end my desire to be hidden in the shadows, the escape lithely and without force. I rampage in my struggles, fighting with all my might to move. The ropes don't loosen, but I feel the metal, chain link fence wavering. I kick and lurch out, suddenly feeling gravity moving beneath me. It isn't subtle, as I fall heavily forwards, the fence post snapping, clattering to the ground.

It hurts, but then life does.

I push myself, and can feel the fence giving way, pieces falling off, a post has shattered, causing the metal links to break, they're so brittle.

At last I free myself, and the ropes unravel against my skin. It feels sore, but I am glad, because it means I am alive: for now.

Shadows moves near me, scurrying across the floor. Too dark to see it, but I know I need defence, and to leave, quickly. I grab a metal post, a foot long, sturdy enough to hit anything that gets in my way. I look ahead and see a tunnel leading off, it is shrouded in mist, but there are lights greater than these, and perhaps a sign of life, perhaps hope.

As I run I spot my bag, I feel elated, so relieved. I look inside and see my things are still there, all that I need. The food in tins I had is gone, but for some reason they never took the water. I suspect where they were in life they no longer needed it. They were heading for death anyway.

As I walk I tread softly, the ground is a field of rubble, broken and fallen ceiling, old benches. To one side on a track is a crashed train, a subway car, looks in unusually good condition.

I wonder how many came down here when whatever destruction took hold above, and actually survived. Imagine the crazy luck, to have been looking for a subway train to wherever and destruction reigned down and those few escaped the torment. I wonder how long my luck will hold out, and how far I can go. I need some kind of base, something to build upon, because without that, if I find an unwanted terminal to the world, I need something to come back to.
the only way I can ensure that is to find a permanent source of clean water!

As I walk I look at the tunnels. The walls are shiny and grey, the tracks surprisingly intact. The mist gives way to a yawning chasm, a tunnel so bleak and dark I doubt I would be able to see a thing ahead. I track back and take one of the torches the thugs were using. It seems to have cloth wrapped around it, and be soaked in some kind of oil. It stinks awful, but no matter because it burns well and gives of plenty of heat as well as light.

It must be getting dark outside, and I feel sure tiredness will be eating away at me. Thinking of eating, I wish I had something to eat now. It's been too long since I had something decent.

A door lies up far ahead, to the left side. It's a good job, because piles of rubble block progress beyond, unless I want to crawl through piles of it, and pray too that the roof doesn't collapse on me. A hateful end.

The door looks made of metal, very solid, impenetrable. I curse, blocked, locked and no way to go. I smack the door with my open hand, then kick it. I know it is foolish, but I am so tired and hungry.

To my utter shock the door swings open quickly, clanging against the wall beside. There is a man stood in its entrance, holding a pistol towards me, ready to fire. He looks at me without blinking, no doubt because his eyelids appear burned off. He is like one of those gross creatures, so thin and yet their entire skin burned to the flesh. What is most odd is how he is dressed, in a trilby hat, smart shoes, and a very nice, albeit worn suit. He even has a shirt, with a loose fitting tie.

'What can I do for you stranger, other than kill you?' The man asks me abruptly. His voice is gravelly and deep, awash with sarcasm.

Before I get a chance to answer, his gun clicks, and fires...