Hunter Clarke's Story

Ari made her way through the cramped ally way, ducking under the smoke that filled the air. The hood of her sweatshirt protected her hair from the falling rains. Keeping her head low, she shuffled passed the mangled bodies of night women and lonely men.

“Where you going sugar” Ari stopped as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. She turned around and stared at the man who had grasped her.

“I suggest you let go of me now.” The man grabbed her and pulled her toward him. Ari quickly maneuvered her hand through his grasp on her waist and contorted her way through his arms, twisting them at his elbow.

“First of all, I said don’t touch me. Second of all, if you ever touch me again, I will castrate you with a spoon. Get it?” His elbow locked at its greatest extension, as he fell to his knees. He cried out in pain as she twisted his wrist for a response. “Good.”

Ari released her grip, fixed her hood, and left him in the rain. As she walked by, she saw people staring but made no efforts to look them in the eye. “It isn’t broken!” She shouted behind her, “And if you are looking for love you all you will find is Hepatitis C and aids.” She ducked back onto the main street and out of sight of the night crawlers.

As she made her way forward, she noticed a young man, teenager really, standing with his hood pulled closely to his ears, hiding as far into the corner of a shop as he could. Ari watched from a distance, as another boy approximately the same age hopped over the dilapidated fence and threw the other a bag.

Ari walked past the scene as a soldier turned the corner toward the two boys.

Three, two, one She ducked into the nearest door frame as the boys took off down the street, bag of cash in hand. They should have taken the south route and avoided the swarm of trouble, but instead they had to run main and hit every check point. Dumbasses

Her thoughts carried on as she turned into the next ally and climbed the steps to the apartment complex she had been living in. She pressed the control pannel for b13 and listened to the hollow buzz that she knew would alert her roommate.

The front gate unlocked and she made her way inside, up the stairs one flight and turned the corner into the shabby mold smelling hallway. She knocked at the door half-heartedly.

“Blakely, let me in I forgot my key again!” She heard the scratch of latches and levers on the old wood, as Blakely turned the final knob to open the door, only to be caught by a metal ball and chain.

“You need to stop forgetting, I might think you are a sex criminal. Did you bring groceries?” She opened the door and stepped inside, seeing the piles of mail left untouched. There was a small note left on top.

“Aw, that’s what I forgot, I will go in a second. Did you open this?” Ari asked her roommate who just shook her head and retreated to her room. The note was addressed to Ari

“Dear Ari Brendlin Chase,

We've been watching over you the past week. Your skills have attracted us to use you, along with selected others, for a mission that could change the outcome of your future. Meet at the brick building on Main Street, second floor, 10:00 PM tonight, and we will be waiting for you. We're counting on you, survivor. Don't let us down, or there may be dire consequences.

Continue to Look for the Light
The Fireflies”

Ari crumbled up the sheet of paper in her hand, as she left the apartment. Ridiculous they need handouts now to get people to help them? "Hello ma'am do you have a moment for us to tell you about our mission and statement, its the only frat house without hazing." She laughed at herself as she stepped through the door frame.

“I’ll be back, don’t wait up!” She yelled as she closed the door behind her. She waited there until she heard the scuffle of shoes, and the knock of metal of lock hinges. She dipped into the street, and paused.

The corruption- the screaming, the fighting, the diseases, the pain, the mold, the smoke, the suffering of these so called survivors. Was this really her chance to changing it? She unscrambled the sheet of paper, and looked at the note again. If this were for real, she may have the opportunity to significantly affect the lives of these people. She looked up again, to weigh her options. What would be the damage in just checking it out?

One foot after the other, she made her way across town. There she stood, staring at the central building on Main Street. “They are all brick,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head as she stepped into the dim lighting of the building. She walked quickly up the steps, and found herself steps away from her future.

She looked down at her wrist watch; 21:47. She knocked three times, and turned the door knob subconsciously assessing every possible way this occurrence could go wrong.

“Hello, my name is Ari Brendlin Chase.” She stepped forward, noting the anguish in the air.

What have you done now

Declan Brant Graklo

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"I need to get more shampoo."

He poured the remnants of the container into his hand and massaged it into his scalp. After foam started bouncing from his fingers, he dropped his hands, rinsed them, and put his hands over his eyes.

"Close your eyes, no peeking!" He heard Kena's voice through the shower glass.

"Who do you think you are?" He teased. He could hear the opening of the shower curtain, and the warmth of another presence.

"Open your eyes"

Declan opened his eyes to the sting of shampoo and such a real memory of what he used to enjoy so much. He washed the shampoo out of his hair and stepped out of the shower, pulling the curtain behind him and wrapping himself in a towel. After he dried off, he threw on a green t-shirt and camouflage shorts.

The bathroom had fogged up, the mirror was completely steamed over. He used the corner of his towel to smear away a circles worth, and it instantly began re-fogging.

Staring at himself in the small section of the mirror, he noticed his baggy eyes and stubble. He looked down at his hands, amazed to see so much dirt still caked under his nails. "I look like shit" He thought as he sat on the edge of the tub and scraped at the caked dirt with a pocket knife from inside his shorts pocket. He stood up, went to the sink, shaved his scruff, and left the bathroom.

He walked through the hallway, admiring the pictures on the walls. He stopped at a light pink door and put his hand on the door. He pushed open the door, staring at the empty nursery. Without letting himself cry, he turned himself around and headed into his bedroom, where he acquired his pistol, mk47, and ruck sack. He sat on the bed, pistol in his hand. He looked out the window and listened to the bitter silence, only interrupted by the air conditioner under foot.

"Soon, my love." He put the muzzle into his mouth, closed his eyes, and hovered his finger over the trigger. He put his finger on the trigger, painfully ready to pull it. A thunk in the other room made him jump, throw the gun to the floor and stand up. He grabbed it quickly and quietly, then made his way to the front door slyly.

He opened the door to find the newspaper, the paperboy dinged his bell and biked away. He picked it up hastily, noticing a folded up paper lodged inside of the rubber band.

Dear Declan Graklo,

We've been watching over you the past week. Your skills have attracted us to use you, along with selected others, for a mission that could change the outcome of your future. Meet at the brick building on Main Street, second floor, 10:00 PM tonight, and we will be waiting for you. We're counting on you, survivor. Don't let us down, or there may be dire consequences.

Continue to Look for the Light
- The Fireflies

Continue to look for the light the words rattled in Declan's mind, as he checked his phone to find that it was 9:30. He looked up to the sky and laughed.

"Not ready to see me yet are you?" He shook his head and went back inside. He grabbed a black jacket, his mk47, and through his ruck sack over his shoulders. Here we go, he started off toward main street.

When he arrived, he saw lights on upstairs. He checked both ways before crossing the street, and stepped inside, and took the elevator up a floor. the building was old, the elevator made him nervous. When the doors opened, he stepped out. He heard noises from a room on his left and paused before entering. He counted to three and pushed the door ajar.

"Declan Brant Graklo, reporting for du-service." He stood at ease, and offered his hand to shake that of his closest peers.