Anywhere But Here The Starborn Ascension By Jason D. Morrow
Chapter 1 - Waverly
My body stiffens at the silence after the rumbling truck engines shut off. Doors squeak open and firm footsteps grind against the broken asphalt. I sit next to Lucas, frozen in place behind an abandoned car long ago stripped of tires and dried of gasoline. I try to keep my breath shallow so the cold, autumn air won’t reveal our hiding place through puffs of smoky vapor. I grip my hatchet tightly as the sound of footsteps comes closer. The weapon was once meant for splitting wood, but the sharpened blade and reconstructed grip on the handle have made it much more useful for killing greyskins, or in this case, raiders. But I hope it doesn’t come to that. They will most likely have guns, and no matter how good I might be with this little hatchet, a bullet will always win.
Lucas turns his head to the other two in our party, Ethan and Gilbert, who are crouched behind a rusted dumpster. The rubble and debris throughout this ghost town is good for taking cover, but I fear the raiders have already seen us. Why else would they be getting out of their vehicles? They would never take the risk of greyskins detecting them unless, that is, this is their territory. Then they would know if the area was clear of the undead human-eaters.
I don’t know why I close my eyes so tightly. In some way it makes me feel invisible. I try to listen to their chatter, hoping that their conversations will tell us that they don’t see anything. But I’m not so lucky.
“I think I saw some movement,” a high-pitched voice says. “Behind that dumpster over there.”
“Then do something about it,” a gravelly voice snaps.
I jump slightly when I feel a hand squeeze my arm. “Waverly,” Lucas whispers to me.
I open my eyes at the sound of my name and I meet his stare. His blue eyes seem as though he can see right through me. The three years of traveling together through these desolate lands that were once our home has taught us a lot about each other. In this new world, fear is the most common emotion, and the best way to cope is to have someone you love next to you. We live in fear together day-by-day.
“They have guns,” Lucas says to me. “And they’ve seen us.”
“We’ve got to try and run,” I say.
He shakes his head slowly and peeks just above the broken window at the back of the car. I can see from his softly moving lips that he’s counting. My heart sinks when he mouths the word eleven and then ducks back down.
It’s too many, I think.
He rakes his fingers through his shaggy, blonde hair and takes a deep breath. “They would catch up to us within seconds,” he says, pulling his makeshift spear next to him. It’s not much more than a long, wooden stick with a sharp knife tied to it by thin rope. “They don’t seem too friendly - not really the type to just let us go.”
“Raiders usually don’t,” I say. I look past Lucas at Gilbert and Ethan who seem equally nervous.
“Come out, rats!” the gravelly voice yells. His words echo off the buildings around us.
With my back against the car, I look straight ahead, hoping to find an escape route that will allow us to lose the raiders, but all I see are a couple of alleys and the main road. It wouldn’t take long for them to catch us, especially if this truly is their territory.
I look past Lucas again and see Gilbert mouthing something to us. “What is he saying?” I whisper to Lucas.
Lucas shrugs. “I’m not sure.”
I despise Gilbert. His slick, dark hair and pale, gaunt face has always given him a devious look. The moment Lucas and I met him and Ethan two days ago, I knew he would be trouble. He is one of those people that is all about self-reliance and cares less about helping others survive in the process. He is exactly the type who would lead a band of raiders but is probably too young to gain a following.
We had met Gilbert and Ethan in a standoff just about like this one, before we all realized that none of us had guns and that none of us were raiders. Gilbert seemed to know this area better than any of us, and we soon found out that they had learned of a place called Crestwood. Incidentally, that was where Lucas and I were headed too. We had learned of it from an old man whom we met on the road. He had said Crestwood was a large town, led by a good man who wanted only to provide a safe place free from greyskins and raiders.
“Likely there is limited space,” the old man said. “And good luck getting there. You’ll have to cross hundreds of miles of greyskin-infested lands, and if they don’t get you, the raiders certainly will.”
Now, one week out, I wish Lucas and I would have listened to him and tried to form a different plan. Because of Gilbert’s poor leadership, we now sit hunkered behind thin cover, just waiting for the raiders to either kill us or move on. We are nothing but a bunch of teenagers hoping to survive, facing grown men bent not only on survival, but ruling over every traveler they come across.
I crane my neck to look through the front car window. The man standing in front of the other raiders is tall and dirty. He looks thin. Too thin. But this is not uncommon to see. I think all of us are too thin these days. Food is scarce, so it’s a good day if any of us have had one decent meal. He carries a large rifle in both hands, ready to take aim and fire at anything that moves. He wears suspenders to hold up pants that are too big for him, and a straw hat shades his face from the sun above us. From here, he looks just like a scarecrow.
I duck back down before he sees me, and I look over at Gilbert. He’s still moving his mouth, trying to communicate something to us. I squint my eyes and stare at his lips.
“Don’t make a sound,” he seems to say.
I shake my head and rest it against the car door. “He doesn’t want us to move,” I tell Lucas.
“I don’t know what he’s expecting us to do,” he answers.
“Rats!” Scarecrow calls out. “Show yourselves now, and I might let you live.”
I look at Lucas and he stares back at me. We both know there isn’t a chance these guys will let us live. That’s not how they work. It didn’t take long for groups of marauders to form all over the place when the greyskin virus showed up three years ago. It first started when looters began tearing through abandoned buildings in the cities. Those looters soon found out that large televisions and computers weren’t going to make them any money in the future. The smart ones hoarded the food and weapons. They formed into groups and quickly became known as raiders. The idea was that you either joined their lawless exploitation of people in need or you died. I suppose that most of us chose death instead.
People like Scarecrow rarely let their victims live. Anyone that is alive and not a part of their little clan is just another person taking up food and supplies that the raiders might need. I can only see this standoff ending in two ways: we try to fight them off and die in the process, or we try to run away and they mow us down with their guns. I feel sick at the thought, but I’m not surprised that we’re here right now. I’m only seventeen years old, and I’ve learned to hate this world that I live in because it comes as no surprise that my end will be at the barrel of a gun. I’m just glad it’s not by the teeth of a greyskin.
“I’m going to try and negotiate,” Lucas whispers to me.
“No!” I say. “You know they won’t listen.”
“I have an idea, Waverly,” he says.
“Lucas, please don’t! If we stay hidden, maybe they’ll turn back.”
“Maybe they won’t,” he says, his eyes sullen and serious.
He starts to raise his hand in the air and I reach out and grab it with mine. Instantly a bright light flashes before my eyes and I feel like I’m floating in the air.
Has an explosion gone off? No. That’s not it. What is this? What am I seeing? I have heard of out-of-body experiences before, but this is very strange. I can almost feel my physical self standing apart from the group, yet I can’t wave a hand in front of my face. It’s as though I am a spirit hovering around the scene unfolding before me, taking it in from a safe distance. No one can touch me. No one can hear me. In a way, I don’t even exist, yet I also see myself crouched behind the car as though there are two of me: the one hiding from Scarecrow and his men, and this one that feels no fear and cannot be seen.
When I look at her, the version of me that is hiding behind the car, I see Lucas pull his hand away.
“It’ll be okay, Waverly,” he says to her.
I watch her from the short distance, a look of shock and confusion is spread across her face. It’s hard to watch myself, seeing the pain of fear.
Lucas holds his hands up in the air and slowly stands. Scarecrow and his men point their guns at him instantly, and Lucas winces as if he almost expects a flurry of bullets to rip through him. When no gun goes off, he raises his head to look at the raiders standing in front of their trucks and SUVs.
When I look at her…Waverly…me. I hate what I see. Her brown falls around her face and shoulders in tangles as she whispers frantically to Lucas. Her thin, pale arms shake in fear. These last three years have not been kind to her. She’s not very tall, add malnourishment to the mix and she looks sick. As I watch, it seems that her whispers to Lucas go unheard.
Gilbert shakes his head, muttering curses toward Lucas while Ethan sits quietly frozen with white-knuckled fingers holding tightly to his weapon.
“There are more of you rats,” Scarecrow says with a scowl. He holds his gun a little higher, taking aim at Lucas. “Have them show themselves or I’ll split your head open like a rotten fruit.”
Lucas holds out his weaponless hands, trying to calm the lead bandit. “We don’t mean any harm,” he says. “We’re just trying to pass through.”
“I don’t care what you’re passing,” Scarecrow says. “Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.”
“I assure you,” Lucas says, “we don’t want a fight, but we have you outgunned two-to-one.”
Scarecrow’s eyes narrow at Lucas’ words.
“Now, you can take my word for it and drive away, or you can take your chances and blow my head off.” Lucas starts to lower his hands. “So, why don’t you just play it safe and drive out of here and let us pass through?”
Scarecrow seems to ponder his words for a few seconds. “If your men are so heavily armed, then why are they afraid to show themselves?” He looks back at his men for affirmation, and gets a few nods in response.
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Lucas says. “You’ve got a choice to make. For you and your men’s sake, I think you should turn around and let us pass.”
Scarecrow smiles at this. His teeth are yellow and crooked, many of them are even missing. He doesn’t look much different from a greyskin. “How old are you, boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
“Eighteen,” Lucas says confidently.
“Barely a man.” He turns to his men behind him and one or two of them laugh nervously. “I’m going to give you a counter offer. Your men show yourselves, and we might let the rest of them live. Course, we’re going to kill you either way. There are too many rats like you as it is.”
“This is your last chance,” Lucas says.
Scarecrow shakes his head. “No. It was yours.” With barely a squeeze of the trigger, he lets off a round. The bullet goes through Lucas’ forehead and out the back before he can even respond. I try to scream out as his body falls to the ground, but like a spirit, my screams are silent and go unheard.
Another bright, white flash and I find myself sitting next to Lucas again as he is about to raise his hands into the air.
I feel like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. I look up at Lucas and try to tell him to stop, but words barely escape my lips. What did I just see? My legs feel weak, but I want to stand. I want to reach out and grab Lucas by the shirt and pull him down, but gravity holds me with the weight of a boulder.
“It’ll be okay, Waverly,” he says to me as he reaches out into the air.
I feel shock…confusion. What is happening to me? What just happened to me?
Scarecrow and his men point their guns at Lucas as soon as he makes himself known. He ducks his head as if expecting to be shot, but the raiders let him be.
“Lucas,” I say barely above a breath. “Please, just get back down here! We can run. Lucas!”
He doesn’t seem to hear my soft cries. I know in my heart what is about to happen, but something inside of me says that’s impossible.
“There are more of you rats,” I hear Scarecrow say. I can’t see him where I’m sitting, but I know that he raises his gun at Lucas. “Have them show themselves or I’ll split your head open like a rotten fruit.”
“We don’t mean any harm,” Lucas says. “We’re just trying to pass through.”
I know the response from Scarecrow before he even says it…I don’t care what you’re passing. Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.
Almost as an answer to my thoughts, Scarecrow speaks. “I don’t care what you’re passing,” he says. “Have your men show themselves or I’ll blow your head off.”
The pit in my stomach is growing and it’s all I can do to keep down what little food I have inside me. I look at the other two across from me. Ethan holds to his weapon tightly as Gilbert mutters to himself in anger.
“I assure you,” Lucas says, “we don’t want a fight, but we have you outgunned two-to-one.”
The words hit me like a lightening bolt. What is he thinking? None of us have any guns. All we have are little sharp weapons in hopes that they will help us get away from rogue greyskins. We couldn’t possibly take on the raiders. We’d be dead before the fight even started.
“Now, you can take my word for it and drive away,” Lucas says, “or you can take your chances and blow my head off.” He starts to lower his hands, probably to show Scarecrow his confidence. “So, why don’t you just play it safe and drive out of here and let us pass through?”
No, no, no, I think to myself. I want to reach out to Lucas and pull him down, but won’t the bullets just tear through the both of us? I reach for the silver chain around my neck and feel for the diamond ring at the end.
There is a brief silence before Scarecrow answers Lucas. “If your men are so heavily armed, then why are they afraid to show themselves?”
“Doesn’t matter to you,” Lucas says. “You’ve got a choice to make. For you and your men’s sake, I think you should turn around and let us pass.”
“How old are you, boy? Fifteen? Sixteen?”
Eighteen.
“Eighteen,” Lucas says.
“Barely a man,” Scarecrow answers. “I’m going to give you a counter offer. Your men show yourselves, and we might let the rest of them live. Course, we’re going to kill you either way. There are too many rats like you as it is.”
When Scarecrow says these words, I know I’ve got to do something, but I can’t. For some reason, I can’t make my legs move. And what would it accomplish? Had I not just witnessed the future?
The future… How could I have seen this before it happened? The vision felt like it took minutes, but apparently happened in less than a second. I drop the ring and let it fall to my chest. My hands are shaking.
“This is your last chance,” Lucas says.
His words are ice in my veins because I know there is only one more response before Scarecrow pulls the trigger and ends Lucas’ life. I have to get up. I have to do something.
I don’t know what it is that keeps me hidden behind the car. I can’t tell if it’s fear, or bewilderment that what I just saw in some kind of vision is actually taking place before my very eyes. I’m tied to the ground with invisible ropes as though a tree’s roots are growing all around my arms and legs. I want, with every fiber of my being, to reach up and pull Lucas down, but Scarecrow’s words slither out like a judge pronouncing a death sentence.
“No. It was yours,” Scarecrow says.
It’s too late. I try to reach up, but the gun blast has already echoed off the walls and blood has sprayed all over my face and the front of my shirt. I can’t even scream as Lucas’ dead body falls to the ground beside me, his eyes wide, staring into the open blue sky. Tears streak down my face as I stare at him. We had been through so much together.
I know it’s a dumb thing to do, but we’re dead anyway, so I reach out to him and lean over his body in full view of Scarecrow and the others. I shake him by the shirt as if it will somehow wake him up, but I know that it won’t. Blood has already trickled out the back of his head, forming a small puddle beside him.
Your promises to me are now pronounced lies. Did they mean nothing? You said we would survive this catastrophe together.
As I sit here, weeping over my love, my companion, I can hear the slow chuckle of Scarecrow behind me.
“I see it now,” he says. “He’s trying to protect you. Probably trying to save your honor. We raiders have a reputation of taking whatever we want from young girls like you.”
I stare straight ahead with my back to Scarecrow as his words crawl into my ears. No doubt their guns are pointed at me. No doubt I am about to die.
I turn my head to glare at him. His long, hooked nose and crooked smile add to the evil aura he carries about him. “We were just trying to pass through,” I say through sobs. “He did nothing to you.”
“There’s probably a couple o’ more,” Scarecrow says to his men. “Go check it out.” He looks up at me. “Don’t you worry. I’ll take care of you. Why don’t you just come over here? I’ll let you pass.” He and his men snicker at his words.
My hands are shaking as the two men approach. The hatchet is by my side, but I doubt Scarecrow or any of his men have seen it. Regardless, I doubt I have the strength to swing at them. Somehow I manage to look over at Gilbert and Ethan. Gilbert is red-faced and ready to fight and Ethan just stares at me. I hold his gaze for a long moment. It’s as though he’s trying to keep me focused on him so I don’t look down at Lucas’ body on the ground.
I could have stopped it, I think to myself. I saw it before it happened. I could have saved him!
I turn my head away from Ethan and stare up at the sky. I don’t want to look at the ground. I can’t look at the ground. I reach up to wipe a tear from my cheek only to see that it’s a red, thick liquid. Lucas’ blood.
“She’s a pretty one, boss,” one of the raiders says as they come closer. “Might want to keep her around!” The other raiders laugh stupidly.
I watch as Gilbert tightens his grip on his club. Just as the first one steps next to the dumpster, he jumps up and slams his club into the man’s stomach. The raider doubles over and Gilbert brings the club down on his head, no doubt killing him instantly. The other raider points his gun at Gilbert, but instinct takes over me as I grab my hatchet, let out a scream and swing it into the side of his knee. He falls back, shooting his gun in the air as he yells out in pain. Gilbert rushes toward him and swings his club down on his throat with a loud crunch, grabbing the man’s rifle in the process.
Bullets whiz past my head and I duck back behind the car as Gilbert scoots in close to me. He lifts the rifle over the trunk of the car and blind-fires three or four rounds. The raiders shout out for the others to take cover. I look at Ethan, and he already has the other dead raider’s gun in his hands. He dares to lift his head above the dumpster and take aim as Scarecrow and his men find cover behind the doors of their vehicles.
The bullets slam into the sides of the dumpster and car louder than if they were sledgehammers. I drop the hatchet and cover my ears. My eyes are magnetized to Lucas’ body on the ground and I can’t look away. The bullet hole in his forehead drools blood and I know it is my fault. I could have done something. I saw that this was going to happen.
For a moment, the firing ceases. We can hear the hurried voices of the raiders, but can’t understand a word they are saying. All of them start to scamper back into their vehicles. Each of us stands and looks over our cover to see them all in a rush. I hear one of them yell out something about greyskins.
Gilbert must have heard it too because he slams his fist against the car and swears loudly. “First the raiders, and now greyskins.”
“They must have been drawn in by the gunshots,” Ethan answers.
“Well, we’re not going to be running away on foot,” Gilbert says. He leans onto the trunk of the car and takes aim at one of the SUVs riding away. The first shot takes out the back window. I duck for cover as one of the raiders turns around and fires at us through the shards of broken glass. I know Gilbert’s next shot is true when I see the driver’s head split open. Blood covers the windshield and the SUV comes to a slow stop as the remaining raider tries to shove the dead driver out the door to take his spot. “Ethan,” Gilbert yells. “Follow me.”
Ethan doesn’t argue as he carries the rifle and follows closely behind Gilbert. The raider is struggling to get the driver out of the seat and take off. He fires a few random rounds at the two guys, but they don’t even come close to the mark. Gilbert and Ethan raise their guns and fire almost everything they have into the front cab until the man is lifeless.
Gilbert yells for me to follow them and get into the SUV. I can hear the grunts of the greyskins getting louder. Soon they will be filling the streets, eating whatever fresh blood they can get to. My knees are planted firmly on the ground as I kneel in front of Lucas’ body. Tears mixed with blood stream down my face and I’m not certain I have the strength to follow the others.
I hear them call out my name. I can hear the greyskins closing in around us. The hissing, the lust for flesh, the smell of death. Lucas had promised me that we would survive this catastrophe together. He told me that we would be a couple of the few that made it to their old age, and that someone would someday make a cure for this disease that plagued mankind. He promised that I would survive and that he would be by my side the entire way.
Lucas has broken his promises.
As the others call out my name, I can’t help but wonder if I should go along with Lucas. What would be the point in living without him? He was all that I had left. My family and all my friends from before the time of the greyskins are gone. What’s the point of living? Is there any purpose in merely existing in this rotten world?
I feel like the infected, once-human greyskins are on top of me. When a pair of hands grab my shoulders, I expect a set of teeth to sink into my neck and end my life where I sit.
But when I turn my head, it’s Ethan.
“Waverly!” he says. “I know what he meant to you, but we’ve got to go now!”
“I can’t leave him,” I say. “I could have saved him. I knew this was going to happen!”
“Waverly! Come on!”
Despite my resistance, Ethan reaches down and pulls my legs off the dirt, and carries me toward the SUV. Gilbert revs the engine, warning us to get in the vehicle or get eaten. The greyskins are closing in.
I should have saved Lucas. The warning was there. I saw his future.
Ethan shoves me into the back seat and yells for Gilbert to drive. If we had been seconds later, the greyskins would have torn us apart. I look out the back of the shattered window and see a herd of greyskins chasing the SUV, and all the others chasing the smell of blood.
After today, there will be nothing left of Lucas. In the same way, I feel there is nothing left of me.