Young Writers Society

Nanowrimo 2009 second draft. Sorry the chapter's so long.

He’d never seen such wreckage. Once mighty walls were now smouldering rubble. Even through the shroud of pine needles he could see the glow of fires which illuminated rising towers of smoke. The iron smell of death set his pulse hammering to the point where it felt his veins would burst.

“How the hell did this happen?” said Alfred.

Luke didn’t speak. No words could express his horror and disgust.

A hot firestorm wind made the trees shiver. Luke’s eyes watered from the stinging smoke, but he knew there was more behind the tears than that.

“Press on,” said Alfred.

Luke raised a shaking hand and brushed aside a branch. On legs of rubber he forced himself out of the forest and into his first mission.

Alfred walked in front, his sword reflecting the scene of death before them. Luke followed, fidgeting his slippery fingers on his crossbow stock. He was glad someone else was in charge.

A scream stole his attention. It reverberated endlessly through the empty city, until the only remnants of the sound were in Luke’s mind.

“Well, we know they’re in there then,” said Alfred.

Luke’s fear rose to a new level. Not only would they have to search the ruins for survivors; they’d have to evade bloodthirsty scavengers too.

They arrived at the wall. Alfred ran a hand along a piece of stone. It crumbled upon contact. He turned his head to Luke with an eyebrow raised. Luke felt many things now, but a curiosity about stonework was not one of them.

Alfred climbed up the pile of rubble. Luke waited. He could feel his sinuses itching from the smoke.

“Luke, you’ve got to see this,” said Alfred, turning around. In the light of the flames his eyes revealed a face Luke had never seen before.

Luke slowly ascended the mound, drawing in wheezing breaths. The smoke was irritating his throat as well now.

Chunks of brick and wood slid out from under him and rattled down to the ground. His eyes rose above the apex. What he saw sent his mind reeling back, and it was only reflex that kept his body from doing the same.

Corpses everywhere. Men, women, even children lay motionless on the streets, in the gardens, even dangling from windows. A pile of bodies lay jammed up against a wall, as though some tremendous force had shoved them there.

“Who would do this?” Luke finally managed to say, but his only real concern was getting out.

“I don’t know, but when I find them...” Alfred carefully stepped down into the city. Pieces of brick grinded beneath his feet. His sword arm was up and he kept his head moving, on the lookout for danger.

Luke followed, jaw agape. Anger hadn’t yet developed.

Alfred crouched down next to the first body and turned it over. A woman. Her pale grey eyes hung open, locked in eternal despair. Alfred put his hands over a patch of dried blood on her stomach. Luke approached slowly. He’d never seen a dead body before. Such limpness seemed morbidly unnatural.

Alfred tore open the front of her shirt, to reveal a large ragged hole. The flesh around it had hardened with dried blood. Luke could do nothing but stare at her torn flesh.

“Never seen anything like it,” said Alfred. “Whatever weapon it was, it’s beyond my knowledge.”

Luke’s breathing turned to shallow whimpers. The one thing that had kept him sane was the security of Alfred’s expertise. If he didn’t know what it was, there was a problem.

“Take a look inside,” Luke said. “Maybe there’s an arrowhead.”

“There won’t be, but maybe something else,” Alfred said. He pushed up his sleeve and shoved his hand into the bloody hole. His forehead creased. “I can feel something.” He withdrew his hand.

Luke crouched down next to him. Alfred flicked blood off his hands. He was holding a small, misshapen metal ball. He turned it over in his palm. Luke waited for a logical explanation.

“Never seen anything like it.”

A single resounding crack cut through the silence. Luke jumped. He looked in all directions, and seeing no one else, dropped his head and put a hand over his heart.

“Don’t ask me what that was either,” said Alfred.

“This mission’s gone wrong,” said Luke. “It was meant to be a search for survivors. I’m not ready.” His voice took on a tone of hysteria.

Alfred put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. Luke reeled back because the hand was covered in the woman’s blood. “There’s still survivors out there who need us. Let’s press on.”

“We should abort.”

Alfred glared at him. “If we abort the burden’s going to fall on the other teams. The worse the conditions, the more important we stay and help.” Alfred gestured for Luke to follow. Luke did so. Fear of being alone was worse than fear of what lay further in. Fear of punishment didn’t even qualify for thought.

They turned a corner onto the main street. Smashed buildings on either side spilt out their innards like gutted animals.

“Don’t ask me what did this,” said Alfred, pointing to a cracked dent in the road, the size of a grave. Luke wished he’d at least pretend to know, to give a sense of security, if only a false one.

Something moved on the other side of a charred shrub.

Luke raised his crossbow. He swallowed. “What’s that?”

“Check it out,” said Alfred.

Slowly they circled around the shrub. Luke kept his slippery finger tight on the trigger, and tried to quieten his breathing.

A body came into view, writhing, in pain. Luke lowered his crossbow and stepped over to the old man. Blood stemmed from his chest, and a trickle from the corner of his mouth had become encrusted in his white beard. Luke knelt down next to him.

The man lifted a shaky arm and gripped Luke’s hand.

“You’ll be alright,” said Luke, breaking eye contact to look to Alfred for confirmation. Alfred shook his head.

“What happened?”

The man struggled to sit up. Luke put an arm behind his back. He spat out blood and drew in a gurgled breath.

“They had...” His face screwed up in pain. “These weapons. They... They slaughtered everyone.”

“With these weapons?” said Alfred.

The man nodded, then coughed. Flecks of red mucous landed across Luke’s cheek.

The man breathed a gurgled sigh, then said a few words in a voice too quiet and hoarse for Luke to decipher.

“Okay friend,” said Alfred. He crouched down and placed his sword across the man’s throat. Realising what was going on, Luke stepped back and closed his eyes. His head became heavy. He put a hand on his forehead for support. The blade sliced through the neck.

A second later Alfred was next to him. With aan arm around his shoulder. “Don’t you worry,” he said. “They’ll pay. We’ll make sure of that.”

Luke blinked and sighed. He pulled away from Alfred. “I can’t stand this. Let’s just get the job over with.”

“Good idea.”

They continued along the destroyed street into even heavier smoke. Something cracked. Luke spun around to face it. A bowstring twanged. Metal calshed. Another crack. It was coming from the other side of the roadside buildings.

Alfred dashed to the door of the building. Luke came up next to him, holding his crossbow ready. Alfred slowly turned the handle. Luke winced. Alfred flung the door open. The front room was empty.

Alfred stepped in and Luke followed, breathing a sigh of temporary relief.

Splinters of wood and ceramic tile littered the floor. Smoke choked the dark halls. Alfred reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a torch.

“Wait,” said Luke, putting a hand on Alfred’s arm. “That will bring them to us. We don’t know how many there are.”

“You’re right,” said Alfred. “We’ll have to feel our way.” He began to move off into the black smoke.

Damn. Luke had hoped no torch would mean no going in. Now they’d have to fight in the dark.

A crack rattled the splinters on the ground. A scream followed less than a second later.

“You bastards,” a man shouted. “You fucking...” Another crack and he was silenced. Feet pounded on the ceiling, sending flecks of ash showering over Luke and Alfred.

“They’re coming down,” said Luke. “Come on.” He dashed for the doorway.

“Wait,” said Alfred. But Luke was already out on the road.

“Come on,” said Luke.

Alfred frowned and bared his teeth slightly. Then he stomped out the door. “We could have ambushed them at the stairs,” said Alfred. He raised a finger. “Who’s in charge?”

Luke saw movement in the house. His eyes widened. Alfred turned around.

“Run!”

Luke sprinted across the road and vaulted over a stone wall. He peeked over to see Alfred.

Alfred pulled a loaded crossbow from his belt as he ran. A man appeared in the doorway and raised a long tubular object. Alfred spun around and fired. The man tumbled backwards.

Alfred placed on arm on the stone wall. Another foe stepped into the doorway.

Luke froze as the man raised his weapon.

Alfred’s body sailed over the wall.

Luke knew he wouldn’t make it.

Smoke erupted from the man’s weapon with a bang.

Luke threw himself at the ground.

Alfred landed hard, swearing at the top of his lungs. Luke looked up at him. Blood poured from his left forearm. He slammed his hand down over it and jammed his eyes shut.

“They’re behind that wall, get them.”

Feet slammed on floorboards. Luke’s body leaked sweat like a tap.

“Shit shit shit, what do we do?”

“In there,” Alfred groaned, pointing to the building behind them.

Luke wrapped his arm under Alfred’s armpits and dragged him to the door of the building. The two remaining enemies emerged from the building on the other side.

Luke slammed the door shut behind him and jammed the lock bolt closed. “Where now?” He hoisted Alfred higher and tried to get a better grip with his clammy hands.

“Just get a few roads down. Hurry.”

Luke staggered through a dark hall, holding one hand out to feel his way. Fortunately his other arm had been strengthened by repetitive reloading during training or he’d never have been able to carry Alfred’s weight.

He found a door and fumbled for the handle. Men pounded on the door behind him. One spoke some muffled words.

Luke found the door handle and opened it. He stepped into a room, faintly lit by fires next door. Occasional flames licked through the window.

Luke propped Alfred up against the wall and rushed for the table.

“What are you doing?” said Alfred.

Without reply, Luke lifted the table and dashed to the door before he dropped it. He jammed it in as a barricade. There was a crash from the other side.

He grabbed Alfred again and dragged him to another door and kicked it open. They emerged onto an alley and clambered down a set of stairs.

“Good move with the barricade back there,” Alfred said, voice wobbling from the jarring of the stairs.

Luke almost smiled at that bit of praise. “Hold on man.” If Alfred died he’d be alone.

Luke walked to the end of the alleyway and across a street. It occurred to him halfway across that he should have checked for danger. In the heat of the moment, lessons from training dropped from mind.

Luke’s muscles felt ready to give out as he staggered up a stone path leading up to another building. The door was already smashed throughout the entrance way.

He stumbled in and went through the first doorway on his left. They entered a bedroom and Luke dropped Alfred across the mattress. Then he too collapsed, panting.

“Alfred, I...” Luke began. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ran out.”

“Just help me get this armour off,” said Alfred. “I’m losing blood fast.”

“You’ll be alright,” said Luke. Wishful thinking. He pulled Alfred’s chainmail vest up over his head. He pulled up the sleeve of the undershirt to reveal a large fleshy wound, bleeding profusely.

“It doesn’t look serious,” said Luke, guessing. “We can fix it.”

Alfred fixed him with a questioning look as he pressed down the wound.

Footsteps pounded on the street, and both of them fell silent apart from Alfred’s pained breaching and Luke’s wheeze.

“Check all the buildings, they can’t have gone far.”

Let’s get out of here,” said Alfred. “I can walk.” He cringed but managed to get to his feet. He put a hand to his head which was already paling from blood loss.

“This way,” said Luke, grabbing him by the good arm. He led him out of the room into a pitch black corridor. Luke’s throat and nose tingled as the air grew thick with dust.

They entered a scorched room. Charcoal crusted the ceiling. Specks of ash rose up on the thermals created by the glowing embers in the corner.

The tingling in Luke’s throat increased. “I gotta...” The itch crept deeper back into his sinuses.

Alfred’s hand slapped across his face just as the sneeze burst forth. The hand muffled it, but not enough.

“They’re next door, blast your way in.”

“Run,” said Alfred. Luke already was.

Luke kicked open a door. The wall exploded behind them. A wave of heat singed his back and gave him a boost of speed. They both staggered onto the street. Luke heard the enemies arrive at the doorway.

“Time for a stand,” said Alfred. He spun around, dropping his crossbow and drawing his sword.

Luke hesitated for a second, before turning to face his foes. If he left Alfred, both of them would die.

As he was lifting his crossbow, both enemies slammed back into the ground.

“What?” Luke frowned. He turned to look behind him. No one.

“Up here.”

It was a woman’s voice. Luke looked up. The second storey of the building had had its wall smashed off, and inside a shadow waved to him.

Luke grabbed Alfred and dragged him across the scorched lawn and into a large rubble filled crater where the entrance had been. Luke clambered over the rubble to the stairs. More people meant better chances of survival, and that was top priority now.

The top of the stairs revealed a gutted wooden room that had escaped the fires.

“Where are they?” said Alfred. Luke scanned the gloom, but couldn’t see anyone.

Two silhouettes rose from the shadows in the corner, one after the other. The first was short and slender, the other tall and broad for a woman.

“Who are you?” one of them said.

“We’re an advance team of soldiers,” said Alfred. “Here to rescue the survivors.”

“Soldiers.” The taller woman stepped out of the shadows. “Thank god. Where’s the rest of the army?”

“They’ll be here soon,” said Luke. “Alfred’s hurt and needs treatment.” He gladly took note of the fact that having Alfred treated meant they would be stuck here and not out fighting for a while – hopefully until the rest of the army arrived.

“Sophie’s a nurse,” said the other woman, stepping forward. She had dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and dried blood swept across her cheek.

“Lay down,” said Sophie.

Alfred lay down while Sophie looked at his wound.. Luke stepped closer to the other woman. “Thank you. We would have died if you hadn’t-“

“Don’t mention it,” she said.

“What happened here,” Luke said.

“Beyond what you can already see, I’m not sure,” said the woman. “I know these ambassadors came here a week ago. They were like these invaders. They came and left and no one heard anything else about it.”

“I see,” said Luke. “Something didn’t go down well with them.”

“And they start a war over it,” Alfred said, sitting up.

“Hold still,” Sophie said, pushing Alfred’s injured arm against the ground.

“He’ll be alright, right?” said Luke.

“Yes, he got off lucky,” said Sophie. “The bullet must have hit at a shallow angle because it didn’t even reach the bone. I’ve already taken the bullet out. The only issue will be keeping infection out while it heals, which may take a while I’m afraid.”

“What are these things?” Alfred said, holding the metal slug up to the light.

“Their weapon of choice,” said the shorter woman.

“I’ve treated many injuries before, but these do things I’ve never seen from a weapon,” Sophie said. “They really do some damage.”

“We saw a guy get hit in the head with one. Not pretty. Bone fragments, bits of brain.”

“Yes, thank you Jasmine,” said Sophie. “I’m sure they appreciate your description.”

“Well it makes me feel a hell of a lot better,” said Alfred. “Looks like I got off easy.”

“You mentioned infection,” said Luke. “How long until that sets in?”

“Well,” began Sophie. “The sooner we get something on it the better. There’s an apothecary’s shop nearby, but-“

“We could get there,” said Jasmine. “Me and him will go. He’s a soldier, and I know the town.”

Sophie nodded, slowly. “Please be careful, I don’t want you hurt too.” She looked Jasmine in the face. “There’ll be a lot of things there that will do the trick, but distilled alcohol would be the best bet. I know that’s not one of his crackpot cures.”

“We’ll be about twenty minutes,” said Jasmine.

“Careful out there Luke,” said Alfred. “And thanks both of you.”

Luke nodded. He certainly hadn’t elected to do this, but couldn’t back out now. He told himself that his best chance of survival was to keep Alfred alive. “Don’t leave this building,” he said, throwing on a veil of courage.

“Yes sir,” said Sophie.

“And as long as I’m her patient, she can spank me if I try and leave,” said Alfred. He winked at Sophie.

“You sound unwell,” Luke said to himself as they left. “Or maybe you’re just going crazy.”