Sanctuary

The Rail Gun beeped twice quickly and I pulled the trigger. A brighter more condensed bolt of electricity shot out and burrowed through the car and into the mound of trash. The shot rocked me a bit but I was a little ready for it. I watched as the heat gauge begin to fall back down to zero. I took a deep breathe and turned the knob to level 3. I knew this charge will do massive damage but hopefully it works. As it charged up I searched around again to make sure no one was coming. My hands trembled a bit at the fact of the power that this thing was going to emit.

 

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing," she said after a while. "Ask me about things if you want to know."

Joshua couldn't help but to laugh out loud. "Well, for starters, how about we leave the Wall, and get something to drink." He looked at a group of soldiers, who were clearly making fun of Jess. He gave them a warm smile, which led to more laughing.

"Seems you are rather well known here." She gave a small nod. "If you don't mind, I would like to ask you some things about life inside and outside the Wall for an article I've been working on."

It wasn't all a lie. He had been working on an article. But the main reason he wanted to leave the area where the stares; he couldn't work when he was being watched. And he was very interested why exactly this blue haired soldier had been fired.

"So, what do you say?"

 

Jack chuckled. This guy was a little weird, but seemed harmless enough. He returned V's wave as they headed for the door. Jack gave the stranger a quick scan. He looked like a street-wise man of the cloth, basically. All black clothing, and dark hair contrasted with his light skin. He remained silent for the first bit of the walk. Jack wasn't quite sure how to address him. At length he broke the silence with an attempt at small talk.

"So! Where ya from?"

 

Before she went, Zefie took the precaution of grabbing a gun from the kids’ stash. It was a plain assault rifle, not like her special number than she kept in her own hiding place, but it would do.

She was careful not to let Cooper see her leaving, shutting the door behind her and setting off at a swift jog down the street. She kept an eye on the smoke as she wound through the alleys, and then stopped dead as the report of a louder blast ricocheted around her.

Definitely an explosion.

Ears ringing she set off towards the now thicker trail of smoke. She took a sharp left and saw a smaller clearing emerging ahead. She skidded to a halt at the mouth of the alley and crouched down to watch the strange scene unfolding ahead of her.

A young man, tall and thin, was alone in the tiny square. He held in his hands a large, and clearly modified, gun that was aimed at a random pile of junk and was emitting a high-pitching whining. The man seemed to be waiting for the whining to reach its peak, his fingers twitching on the gun. He radiated an aura of excited nervousness.

Zefie frowned, leaning forward to get a better view.

What on earth was he doing?

 

Jess nodded. Everybody knew her. She thought that Josh seemed uncomfortable. Perhaps he‘s embarrassed?

An article, she mused. It seemed he was a writer, not a soldier. Did being a guide include questions? It might do. Although she doubted that she knew anything that would be of interest, she had been told to help him. “Yes.”

Josh smiled and steered her out of the Wall into the Rows. Huge apartment blocks towered above the narrow streets. Haunted, starved faces peered at them as they passed. Some shuffled forward a few paces before glimpsing the rifle strapped to Jess's back. After glimpsing her face, they retreated back into the shadows. She remembered he had said something about a drink. “I don’t have any money.”

 

Three quick beeps sound off for my finger to pull the trigger. A ray of power runs out of the gun and slams into the pile of and vaporized all of it clear through. The car that was there completely disintegrated. The shot knocked me on my but as I wasn't ready for this kind of recoil. I almost completely dropped the gun but held it steady. I stared in awe into the hole that went to the other row of crap and completely melted the side of the other wall.

 

“I don’t have any money.”

Joshua smiled. "You are my guest, so I'll be paying."

He didn't mind. When his father and brother had died, his mother had received a large sum of money, which she had never even touched. When she died, it had turned into a small fortune, and with Joshua being the only living relative, he had become rather wealthy over night. Although he never boasted with it; doing something like that would be very unwise, especially since his apartment was closer to the Junkyard then to the Wall.

He thought about his options. He knew a couple of places, but most of them would be filled with military personnel; the kind of people he was trying to avoid right now. He figured his best option was one of the smaller places near his apartment.

Joshua gave Jess a smile. “I hope you like strong tea or black coffee,” he said.

 

Zefie watched, eyes wide, as a bolt of crackling blue energy shot from the gun and into the pile of junk. Spots danced before her vision as the light faded, and when they cleared she saw the stripped car-husk that had been propped on blocks had dissolved, leaving only a whirl of black smoke that drifted lazily upwards.

Suddenly nervous, her heart hammered a loud tattoo against her ribs. Judging from the man’s expression, however, he seemed as enthralled as she was. For a moment, she leaned back into the alley, considering her options.

The man was clearly in possession of an extraordinarily powerful weapon, so he was dangerous. But he obviously wasn’t used to this weapon. He was also an unknown; she’d never seen his face around the Junkyard.

A confrontation was exactly a winning option … but she couldn’t just let him walk away. If the worst came to the worst, well, she’d bet she was a faster runner than him.

Knees shaking slightly, she stood up and took two steps out of the alleyway and into the square behind the man. She lifted the rifle up and took aim, hoping she’d maybe knock him off guard.

Eyes narrowed, mouth set – she had to seem like she meant business – she cleared her throat. “What the hell was that?”

 

I quickly set the gun back into the military box and slammed it shut. I jumped up and was being held at gun. I took a gulp of spit and began to breathe heavily. This cute grungy looking girl had me pinned up. "He...Hey..Hey now, Now no need f-f-for all this, just put down the gun and I'll show you," I stuttered trying to coax her to calm down and put down her gun. I tightened my fist and remembered that I had my Cestuses on but it would completely demolish this girl. I opened my hands and scooted a bit towards the container.

 

Zefie tried to hide her surprise. It was that easy? The guy looked like he was about to hyperventilate, edging towards the box he’d shut his gun in. She hadn’t expected someone with such a weapon to be so nervous, even if she did have a rifle trained on him.

As it was, he stumbled over his words and stared at her with something close to panic. Maybe the rifle hadn’t been necessary.

Lowering her gun just slightly – to show him she wasn’t going to shoot him yet but that she might still – she looked him warily up and down. If he thought that she was so stupid she’d just throw the gun down and leave herself defenceless …

“Yeah? Then show me.”

 

"Alright but put the gun down, You can't shoot this holding another gun you know," He said to her and motioned for her to come over. This is the most he actually said to a woman without boring her out of her mind. He opened the military container and waited for her to drop that piece of crap and come closer to the container.

 

Zefie was not expecting that. She wavered between going closer and running, but her curiosity overcame prudence. She wanted to know what that gun was. Keeping the rifle in her hands, she took a few hesitant steps towards the man. He seemed to mean what he’d said, opening the container and waiting for her come over. It reminded her, oddly, of when Spikey had coaxed her away from her mother’s body as a timid child.

As she got closer, she saw the shiny black gun laid out in the box. Even if she hadn’t seen the display of bright blue lightning, it was clearly superior to the shoddy, fixed up rifle she was holding.

Warily she glanced up at the man, then looked longingly back down at the gun. Though she’d never shot to kill, Zefie knew she was a good markswoman. To have such a weapon laid out at her feet … then in slotted into place. Such a weapon would be governmental. It had to be.

Keeping her rifle clutched at her side, she glared suspiciously up at the man, hand on hip.

“What, you’re gonna actually let me shoot this thing?”

 

The ventilation over the military areas seemed especially stuffy, as if by turning the heat up to abnormal levels they would increase productivity. Below him, Dre could hear the sounds of soldiers going about their business.

Dre knew the path to the holding cells well enough, having spent some time there himself for disorderly conduct and attempting to steal from the military. Brushing his fiery red hair away from his eyes, Dre edged his way around the last corner before stopping over a vent. This was where they kept Vishka, an ex-dragoon that the military had managed to somehow mentally reprogram.

What are you doing, Dre? Last time the guards said they'd shoot you if you came again. I'm not worth the trouble.

Dre caught subtle hints of concern in Vishka's thoughts.

The creature definitely came through more clearly when he didn't have to waste his time speaking like humans did.

The guards couldn't hit the floor if they tripped. Besides, the hospitals don't carry the meds I need and Roy O is really sick. I was in the neighborhood so I thought I would stop by.

 

Arnold Douglass, one of two Sanctuary generals, puffed on his cigar as he watched the creature through the thick, bullet proof glass of the one way mirror that separated them. It called itself Vishka. The general shuddered a bit. The monsters had names as if they were people.

For the past several weeks Douglass had been doing his best to pump the creature dry of any information he could get from it. Talking to the thing hadn't worked., psychological treatments hadn't worked. General Douglass was beginning to think it was time for a more direct approach to the solution. The simple fact was that this creature, this Dragoon, was part of an army of extra planar beings who would stop at nothing to destroy humanity. Douglass didn't particularly like the thought letting the creatures do that without a good fight either. This Vishka bastard had to know something about They. He was planning something and Douglass intended to find out personally.

 

Operatios Manager Leonard Kerrington sat munching on a particularly delicious looking sandwich as he kept his eyes trained to the myriad screens that showed various areas near the surface entrance to Sanctuary. Occasionally a couple of animals would scurry by in their search for food.

Despite his reputation for being somewhat of a slacker, Kerrington was quite skilled at his job. He was probably the only one in Sanctuary with the proper knowledge to operate all the equipment involved in his work. He had to be the only one because if there were any others, he didn't doubt that Douglass would have replaced him as quick as he could.

A movement on one of the far screens caught his eye and he leaned forward. It was already gone though, probably just another animal or some trash blowing in the wind. Just as he was about to lean back and take another bite of the sandwich, the screen grew fuzzy and then blacked out completely.

"****," he said as he set his food aside and began typing away at the keyboard in front of him.

"What is it?" asked his assistant.

"Damn screen blacked out again."

"Should I give Douglass a call?"

"Nah...just give me a minute...there we go," he said as the screen fuzzed back on. He twisted a knob to sharpen the image. "It was probably just some weather interference. You know how it can get topside."

 

Artemis stared at the man, he wasn't use to walking with others or for the fact of the matter talking about himself.
He stared down at his shoes and then looked up at him.
"I'm from the rows," Artemis replied, "Its not like I'm not trying to give you an answer, but the question can you know mean almost anything...I mean now I am...I'm going to stop rumbling my mouth, it does a lot more harm then good."
He stared at the guy.
"I didn't get your name...I mean I overheard what you told the lady, I mean I didn't mean to eavesdrop it was just you know you were talking as if you were inviting people in the conversation," Artemis paused only to catch his breath, "I mean you both were totally into each other it wasn't like..."
Artemis shut his mouth, he had already cross the boundaries of what is to be said and what his thoughts were.He stared at his hands, which he balled up into sweaty fist. His nerves were getting the best of him at the moment.

 

Jack couldn't suppress a smile. He had one virtue; he was a fast thinker. True, his thinking didn't make a ton of sense, and the entire thought stream seemed to come out his mouth as he said it.

"Well, as far as talking goes, practice makes perfect. As to my conversation with the lady, well, I had wondered how obvious I was." He gave him a wink.

"As to my name, it's Jack Cyrus. Yours?"

 

Artemis stared at him, he released his sweaty fist and took in another breath. He was still jittery, but maybe if he took a couple more breaths he should be fine.
''To obvious, you're conversation was to obvious...it would be an amazement if she even fell for you, I mean woman are smart, I'm not saying you aren't smart or anything," Artemis paused, "And I'm not trying to say you aren't attractive...I mean who wouldn't fall for you, not that I would fall for you, but..."
Artemis stared at up at the artificial sky and took in a deep breath of the dark atmosphere.
"My name is Artemis," Artemis said.
He felt himself get a little more fidgety, the guy gave him his last name. And he didn't, what if the guy thought he was someone. Or thought he was hiding. It was because if the guy was a soldier or worked with soldiers he would tell him how much his father worked hard. Or would stare at amazement at his father's "crowning achievements".
"I have a last name, but I'm not hiding if that is what you think, I just don't usually tell people my last name...I mean I tell people my last name, it isn't because I don't think of you worthy enough or anything I just...," he blurted out again.
He looked at his hands.
"Its Artemis Crowling,"

 

Jack chuckled again.

"A pleasure, Artemis Crowling. And if you're wondering about a relationship, I'm afraid I don't roll like that. Sorry." He grinned at the man. It was probably slightly cruel of him to poke at the man, but he couldn't resist.

"So, then, Mr. Crowling. What do you do? What's your passion?"

 

Artemis stared at him.
"I don't roll that way either," Artemis said.
"So, then, Mr. Crowling. What do you do? What's your passion?"
This almost seemed like a stab at him, not that Jack was trying to or anything. But he just didn't like being called Mr. Crowling because it reminded him of his father and talking about passion or doing something reminded him of his father.
He could almost hear his heavy and deep voice yelling at him that he wants his son to have a passion for the military, he wants his son to be a seasoned warrior, and how he wanted his son to do something he was proud of. Though non of the jobs here could be something to be proud of.
"What do you do? What's your passion Mr. Jack?" Artemis said, "Please just call me Artemis."
He knew he was changing the subject to Jack, but he didn't like the idea of talking about himself all the time. Himself was a conversation for only him and his heart. The man didn't need to no more then who he was and where he was living.
In truth they may never see each other again anyway. After all he was a soldier, he was a seasoned warrior or he worked with season warriors. He might day any second for his data.
"You'll die and then you'll cry..." he blurted out and only a few seconds later did he realize what he said.
He became nervous again after that you don't tell strangers things like that.
"So, um what are your hobbies Mr. Jack?"

 

"What do you do? What's your passion Mr. Jack?" Artemis said, "Please just call me Artemis."

"Alright, Artemis." Jack said, noting that Artemis had, rather awkwardly, switched the object of interest back to him. "My passion is...well, art. Anything with aesthetic or artistic qualities. Music, painting, martial arts, computer programming..."

Artemis seemed to stare off into the distance for a moment.

"You'll die and then you'll cry..."

Reflexively, Jack took a single step away, and his hand drifted a little closer to his pistol butt.

"So, um what are your hobbies Mr. Jack?" Jack cocked an eyebrow. This guy was a few GOTO statements short of a former Microsoft product.

"Ah. Well, like I said. Anything artistic. I paint, I play the flute, I tinker with computers. You?"

 

Artemis stared at him.
"What do you draw?" Artemis asked, "What do you play on the flute?"
He was trying really hard to keep the subject on Jack. He didn't want another debated about how the children are safer here then anywhere else, he didn't want another debated about how unsafe the roads were, and he didn't want to hear about how the soldiers were fighting so hard. Though he didn't think Jack would say any of these things he was trying to make sure that they didn't. Though the more soldiers and the more exposure he gave the idea out maybe he would be able to persuade it.
"They should be placed somewhere safer..." he said again.
He looked at Jack.
"Let me explain..um well now the subject changes to me please just...um I'm writing an article of how we should place the elderly and children somewhere safer then here," Artemis paused, "The exposure of fright and panic might be a good environment for children to leave, they may grow mental disorders from just being close to something like this...I mean its no fair to the parents, since they may think its separation of their child and them, but I was thinking..."
Stick to him, conversations about him.
"So, who is your favorite composer, then?"

 

Once again, he seemed to be rapidly changing the subject. From Jack to him to Jack again. Of course this place was hell for children to grow up in. Nobody would deny that. The big question was, where would they go? Sanctuary was the only defensible settlement for miles. And even if the children and the elderly were transferred somewhere else, it'd be as bad as here. Maybe worse. No. The only chance they'd have at a stable world again was to get of They.

Artemis appeared not to want to go in too deep about it, so Jack moved on.

"I paint scenery of what Earth used to look like; trees and meadows and streams. My favorite composer is Johann Pachebel. Mostly I compose my own stuff for flute."

They were nearing the HQ now and Jack left him at the front gate.

"Be back in a minute." He flashed his credentials to the guard, who waved him in. He then ran through the corridors to his room where the neat stack of papers was sitting. He gathered them up and headed back outside. Artemis stood waiting expectantly.

"There you are." He said, handing the papers to him. "I didn't even peek."

 

Artemis grabbed the papers. And then stared at the giant building, this is were his father worked. Or did work. Artemis was sure he died and cried. He was getting lost in translation.
He then stared at Jack. He grabbed the papers looked at them to make sure all ten was there.
"Thank you...sorry for causing you so much trouble," Artemis said, "So this is were they go to put their lives on the line and die...I don't mean anything by that I just...I'm going now, I have to go and get ready for a city speech...well more of a protest then anything else and I...thank you and bye."
Artemis turned and walked off. How would he survive the world? If they ever got out of war, how would he survive the world as it opened up?

 

"No trouble at all, Artemis! Have fun with your speech...protest...thing." As he turned his back, Jack smiled and shook his head. He glanced at his watch. Still early. There wasn't much to do here at the HQ. Best just continue the walk.

He had walked through most of the Sanctuary; the Wall, the Rows...even down to the Junkyard on occasion. He had seen enough to know that what he was doing was right. Yes, the military pretty much ruled around here, and maybe they didn't do it as justly or fairly as they should. But, they knew what had to be done. The threat of They had to be stopped.