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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2006797-Trek
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Action/Adventure · #2006797
The beginning of a short story. Dystopian Era--two girls on the run.
         It might have been a beautiful forest once.  There are trees, but they're black and gnarled and leaning in all different directions.  The ground isn't covered with new life and wildflowers, but mushrooms and scattered pieces of metal from a busted car.  Exactly how the car got there is a mystery, but it is safe to say that it has been part of the area for a while.  It's covered in a layer of dirt and dead leaves and it blends in well with its surroundings of various other items of litter.  The forest junk yard is empty except for two girls, who seem to be seizing up the vicinity.

         They are not sisters, or even related, but they might as well be.  Both have long legs, small frames, and high cheek bones.  They both wear combat boots and braided hair, but not everything about them is identical.  The taller and older girl wears an oversized denim jacket, despite the warmth of the evening, and there is something about her that emits an air of silence.  Even as her companion fleets around, talking quickly, she remains quiet.  But her partner is used to it, and continues to speak her thoughts on the situation.  Her long thick braid swings around as her dark eyes take everything in.  She wears black from head to toe.  Finally she says, "I think this spot should do for the night."

         The other girl looks up, almost in a startled way, as if she had been yanked from an intense stream of thoughts.  "Great," she replies.  "There's even a car for us to sleep in."

         "Yeah," smirks the younger girl airily.  "Why don't you get in, Eulalie?"

         Eulalie rolls her eyes and walks away from the car.  She begins setting up their belongings: two ratty blankets, a jug, some water damaged books, and a big navy blue bag.  She searches through it and produces a dented box of crackers.  "This is it," she announces.  The other girl isn't listening.  "Tyri.  This is it.  How much do you know about edible mushrooms?"

         Tyri aims a kick at kick at a nearby tree.  "I can't believe they got away with that!  I could have got all three of them.  I should have!"  She aims another kick at the tree, which sways dangerously.

         Eulalie gets up and pulls Tyri away from the tree.  "You're about to kick that thing over," she says quietly.  "And that would be a dead giveaway.  It's not your fault that they took our stuff.  We were sleeping.  But we still got two of them.  And those were big dudes!  It could've been worse.  It was my fault anyway, I picked the spot.  And it was also me who suggested that we both sleep instead of take turns on watch."

         Tyri crouches down to the ground and doesn't answer.  Eulalie looks at the box of crackers and bites her lip.  She doesn't feel as optimistic as she's letting on.  They are in a forest junk yard, having just run for miles away from three giant hobos whole stole almost all of their food supplies.  It was all her fault that it happened.  And she doesn't know anything about edible mushrooms.  Tyri feels nothing but anger.  In the midst of taking down two hobos, running for what seemed like hours, and finding this spot, she hadn't been able to focus on anything other than the current situation.  Now she has time to seethe about what happened. She takes a deep breath and leans back against the tree.

         “Why aren’t you angry?”  She demands impetuously, staring at Eulalie, eyes smoldering with misdirected rage.  “Why the hell am I the only one angry!  This is an outrage!”

         Eulalie sighs.  This isn’t the first time something had pushed Tyri over the edge, and nor would it be the last.  It was usually best to let her tire herself out.  “Just go to sleep,” she suggests.

         “Eulalie, no! That’s how this started! Sleep is evil!”

         “I’ll take first watch, don’t worry.  We’ll be fine.  I know you’re tired.”  Eulalie tries to sound understanding and concerned, but she is really just ready to have some time without her mistake being re-hashed by an angry little dark-eyed force of nature. 

         Suddenly Tyri’s voice becomes small and young, almost pleading in tone and pitch. “I-I don’t want to go to sleep.  You sleep first!”  Her eyes are wide and panicked.  Eulalie sighs.  This was an almost nightly occurrence.  Tyri had terrible nightmares, and would go days without sleep, even to the point of being unable to function at all, to avoid them.  But even so, she denied having a problem, obviously hoping that Eulalie wouldn’t notice her strange behavior.

         “Why not get some rest?  I know you’re tired.”  Eulalie says, feeling slightly cruel.  Tyri self consciously brushes some hair back that had escaped her braid.

         “I just… don’t.  Adrenaline and all that.”

         “Right.”  She says, rolling her eyes.  “Adrenaline.  Go to sleep.”

         “I hardly think it’s fair for you to order me to bed, especially since you’ve threatened to drug me anyway.”

         “And I will, you know.”  Eulalie says, mock threateningly. 

         “I don’t doubt it,” Tyri mutters darkly. 

         Silence creeps into the air.  Eulalie puts the box of crackers away.  Neither feel like eating and neither want to discuss the fact that they have no food.  It wouldn't be the first time, anyway,  Eulalie tells herself.  This thought doesn't bring the comfort she hoped.  Instead she can only see Tyri's emaciated body as it was when they first met.  What if it got that bad again?  Oh, Eulalie would hate to be responsible for something like that.  This was all her fault.  The sky darkens and Tyri resentfully crawls away from the tree and onto one of the ratty blankets.  She curls up like an animal beside Eulalie, who is turned away with her knees brought up to her chest.  Tyri knows that Eulalie sits like that when she feels sad, vulnerable, or ashamed.  She also knows that Eulalie feels all three at the moment.  She wants to say something comforting, but that's not really a personal strength for her.  All she can offer is, "I'm going to sleep.  Wake me up when it's my turn to watch."  The fact that Tyri, yes, Tyri was willingly going to sleep was a big deal, and they both know it.

    Eulalie stares off into the distance, thinking.  They weren't always this nice to each other.  In fact, when they first met, Tyri actually attacked her.  They had both been running--Tyri from some hallucination created by the things she'd seen wherever she came from plus lack of food and sleep and Eulalie from a pack of Chaos--resentful, angry, and usually violent rebels who resisted ‘to the last man,' often quite literally.  Word on the street was that when the Boston area's base was finally unearthed and the resistance squashed, there was only one seven year old girl left inside, trying to defend the base alone, who killed herself in the end rather than be taken.  Eulalie harbored a sneaking suspicion that Tyri had been somehow involved with Chaos, but that didn’t make much sense.  Chaos members usually killed themselves with pills or razors if they were captured, or afraid to be, so that nobody could ever get information out of them.  They didn’t run.  Eulalie knew, though, that Tyri was definitely on the run from something.  In fact, that was how they had met: they ran right into each other, so hard that they both fell.  Eulalie got up slowly, but Tyri immediately sprang to her feet, appearing to be snarling, and bowled them both back over, straddling her chest and wrapping her fingers around Eulalie’s throat.  Eulalie had frozen with fear, looking up into the eyes of something barely recognizable as human.  Gaunt and sallow featured, with greasy tangles of dull hair falling around her starved face, Tyri had red, bloodshot eyes wide with fear and impersonal rage like a cornered animal.  Eulalie then remembered to scream.  The thing on top of her increased the pressure on her throat, seeming to look right through Eulalie like someone having a nightmare in the daylight.  Eulalie could not help but notice how young her attacker was.  She looked to be no more than a child.  Eulalie could feel her airway constricted, could feel her heartbeat starting to slow in her chest... grunting with the effort, she arched her back and rolled, ending up on top of the girl, pinning her hands to the pavement.  It struggled ferociously, then seemed to realize how hopeless it was and slumped down, going limp, eyes wide but unseeing.  Eulalie somehow sensed that the danger was past, and gingerly climbed off of her, still eyeing her warily.  She backed away on her knees, panting, and got her first real look at Tyri.  She looked terrible, no, beyond terrible.  She was literally skin and bone, her face was dirty, bruised, and surrounded by a mane of hair matted with a substance that looked suspiciously like blood, which was leaking down her face, mingling with the sweat and bruises.  The normal human response might have been to get up and run from this demented creature, but Eulalie had a weird feeling that she should stay where she was.  So she stood up and said, "I'm not going to hurt you."

         Tyri's dark eyes met Eulalie's green ones, and for a moment nothing was said.  Tyri struggled up into a crouch, looking exhausted but cagey.  At least the unnatural fire in her eyes seemed to have dissipated, for the moment.  Then she swallowed and said hoarsely “You’re a liar.”

         “No, I won’t hurt you.  Where did you come from?”

         “You should know!”  She spat back, almost losing her balance.  Suddenly her eyes became distant.  “You should know,”  she whispered almost reverently, turning around and starting to fiddle with her torn clothing.

         Eulalie didn’t know what to make of this.  She sighed, “It doesn’t matter.  I could help you, though.  I have food.”

         Tyri turned around quickly.  Her face was tear streaked--Eulalie could tell because of all of the dirt--but the words that came out of her mouth were not mournful, as Eulalie had expected, but as sharp as a knife.  "I don't need you.  I'm not even hungry.  Just go.  You're lucky I didn't kill you. I could have, I should have..."  She adjusted her backpack and started walking away.  Eulalie watched wearily as she stumbled away, trying to square her shoulders and walk upright.  Then she passed out in the street.

         Tyri was eventually nursed back to health by Eulalie (against her will), but in the end, she appreciated it more than Eulalie would ever know.

         







© Copyright 2014 K Fiore (flowerbugg6 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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