wrote this in a day, and then reviewed it the next, so I can't guarantee quality, hope you enjoy though.
A Kingdom of Heaven
He flicked the clip and the gas mask dropped from his face. Fresh air flooded his lounges in a single sigh of satisfaction. He stood there breathing, trying to rid himself of the rubbery taste the mask left in his mouth after long use. The fresh air put new life into him and for the first time in days a hint of a smile touched his face; a smile that revealed a handsome man underneath layers of dirt. But he had to keep moving, and he knew that.
He turned and started moving up the mountain to his right, his tired eyes following a dim trail in the chest high grass. Six days now he had followed this same trail, and only the hope that he could have fresh food kept him going. But now his steps were dragged down by doubt of the animal’s purity. Nothing in this world went into the wastes for long, even if they had the necessary equipment, but this animal had traveled straight through for several days without rest.
The man’s eyes sought out the signs of the animal’s passing with ease. They saw the single broken stem of grass, and the noticed the half imbedded print of a hoof in the soft soil.
Suddenly the forest gave way to a clearing where the grass stood uninterrupted except by the sharp green triangles of baby evergreen trees left to grow on an abandoned Christmas tree farm. A small tunnel was furrowed through the grass as if a large body had moved through it not long ago.
The man dropped smoothly into a crouch, his movements disturbing nothing in the still air. He slung the hunting rifle off his back and brought it to rest on his shoulder. His breathing slowed and he let his mind focus solely on the world around him. He shifted his weight and crawled silently to the left. Then he heard it, gently, as if from a memory just out of reach, the breath of an animal from the grass ahead of him.
Slowly he inched forward, his muscles tensed, ready to burst into action at a moments notice. Grass rustled and then in the perfect silence his foot caught a stick. There was a moment of dead silence before the frenzy. The animal burst out of the grass, its leg’s kicking out and its body jerking in fear. Instinct took over for the hunted and the hunter and the man rose out of the grass in a single lightning fast movement and brought the gun to rest on the animal, but then his grip loosened and the gun drooped in his grasp. Six legs sprouted from the deer’s body, two of them dangling uselessly at the animal’s side as they grew green and pussy. It was a mutant, a reminder of the poison that contaminated the world.
The man threw the gun onto his back and turned his back to the fleeing animal. The meat was contaminated and the beast not worth killing. He body shook with exhaustion as he headed down the mountain. Clouds of ash billowed up from the forest in front of him and filled him with even more dread. The Waste awaited.
- - - -
“Desmond! What are you doing out here? The dance is inside!”
Desmond turned and looked at the man, the smile that had been there before dropping from his face, “I’m just getting some air. I’ll be back in moment.” He smiled to himself as the English accent seeped back in. It would never leave him.
“Fine then.” The man turned and went back in the building, not really sounding disappointed.
As he opened the door the sound of loud music reached Desmond’s ears and he cringed. Prom was horrible; girlfriends cooing over their dates and trying to make all of the other girls jealous; especially his. Honestly, he couldn’t remember why he had said yes to her. Probably to get her to stop the rumors.
He sighed and moved towards the short wall separating the parking lot from the woods. He hopped it easily and landed in the mud on the other side. Grime splattered his suit but he didn’t care. He actually preferred the rustic look.
He started walking into the woods but a movement out of the corner of his eyes made him pause. He stood for a second debating whether to go over, but his inquisitive side got the better of him. He crouched and ran quietly through the woods until he was close to where he had seen the movement. A girl was crouched near the wall, her back to him and her face peeking towards the building, as if to make sure she had not been followed. He moved closer to her, but when it was clear she would not notice him he snapped a stick.
She jumped and turned to face him, her eyes wide in fear.
He opened his mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. The girl was pale, but in a way that reflected the dim moonlight and made her glow. Her hair was a light brown that shined in the dim light and made him want to run his hands through it.
He coughed and managed to stutter out, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
She smiled, “Its ok. I shouldn’t have been so easily scared.” Then something in her head clicked, “So you’re running from the dance too?”
Desmond smiled and nodded, “Got stuck with Corrie.” Then he realized that she might not even go to his school, “Do you go to Northwestern?”
She nodded, “Yeah, but I haven’t seen you around. I do know who Corrie is though, and I pity you.”
They sat in silence, both unwilling to say anything. After several minutes Desmond spoke, his voice cracking again, “So, do you just not like to dance?”
Her eyes widened, “No! I love to dance, I just think the music is terrible, and the people are even worse.”
Desmond let a smile spread across his face. He was liking this girl more every moment. “Well, there’s a flat spot right across from the back parking lot. No one will be there, and its far enough away that we wont be able to hear the music, what do you say we have a dance?”
Her face lit up and she hopped up, already starting across the parking lot before his sentence was finished.
His breath was coming out in short bursts when he got to the back lot. She was standing facing him, her hands clasped across her belly, a smile across her face. He had always known what to say to girls, but around ones he felt attracted to, his senses left him. He walked over to her and stood awkwardly, unsure of how to start.
She moved towards him, as if reading his mind and placed his hands where they needed to go, and then they danced, as simply as that. He was raised to dance with the daughters of the rich or senators, and he instinctively twirled and moved in a manner befitting a ball, not a crumbling parking lot, so in the first several moments of the dance she stepped on his toe.
She backed away, a blush staining her pale cheeks, “I’m sorry, you must think I’m terribly clumsy.”
He smiled in the darkness, realizing that she must be just as shy as he was, “You are not a bad dancer. Let me have another one and I’m sure it will go fine.”
She hesitated then moved to him and they began where they left off. They fit each other perfectly, their feet gliding over the cracked asphalt effortlessly. They danced for what Desmond thought must have been several minutes before he realized he did not even know her name.
Without slowing the dance he leaned in next to her and whispered softly, “Since you allowed me a dance, might I know your name?” His accent slipped in more heavily, but it seemed appropriate at the time.
She twirled and then whispered to him, “Mary, and yours?”
“Desmond.”
She said the word to herself, and he imagined that she cradled it, as if it were something precious. Mary He thought, It’s a very pretty name.
As they danced a twinkle grew in her eyes, and as he watched it he was not sure whether it came from the lights, or if she was creating it herself. The light captivated him, and he found himself wanting to kiss a girl he had hardly known for an hour. He looked at her and the smile that had touched his face so much recently returned.
She blushed and read his mind again. She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his. For a split second he forgot everything about his life and all that mattered was that he was here. She drew back and the smile stayed on his lips as they resumed dancing, her head now resting on his shoulders.
- - - -
The man came awake with a start, his hand flying to the pistol resting by his bed. The dream came back to him slowly. The same one he had been having for years. Reminding him of his past, haunting him and forcing him to remember what he had lost and to recognize what he had become. Breath shuddered out of him and he sank back into the pile of blankets that made up his bed, the sweat covering him making him shiver in the cool air.
He fought for sleep but it eluded him, so in an effort to distract himself from the nightmare he traced the outline of the bedside table. Something tumbled off shattered on the floor. He grabbed it and brought it to his face. A picture in a wood frame with broken glass displaying three girls faces. An older woman, his mother, a younger, his sister, and a teenager with light brown hair, the love of his life. There was a black X across each one’s face.
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