*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1921191-Backlash-Prologue
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1921191
My novel, backlash. It's not done yet, but I want feedback! Tell me what you think!
Prologue


Static crackles in the air as I run through the empty streets, fear filling me. Wind blows awry through the cracked roads, pulling cold and insubstantial fingers at boarded windows and the hem of my yellow dress. I remember thinking it was pretty when I put it on this morning. This morning, I had also been exiled from my town, Safe, for asking too many questions about the past. About when and how the world become a dank shadow of what it once was, now overrun with mutated, wild animals and nature. Safe, like its name implied, was a beacon of sanctuary, rebuilt from an old suburb that had been largely untouched in the few years after The Event. It was a deception, though, as people could not leave once they entered the “refuge of civilization,” as the self-appointed leaders called it. The leaders had the strongest talents, and kept the cover of a benign dictatorship over the public.
   
The talents were also something that came out of The Event. They came in hundreds of variations, in different intensity and skill levels. We were called Unas, or people with a talent. Light talents were common, but they eliminated the need for electric lighting in Safe. I was a Light talent, could create light, flashes, and simple shapes, intermediate as far as Light talents go. There were others, as well. Heal talents were coveted in Safe, and were critical to our town, as the modern medicine had all but gone from the world. The Elemental talents were moderately rare, and had many uses for Safe, like directing away storms and growing food quickly. The Warrior talents were common, too, but they guarded the city with enhanced speed and strength. There were so many others, too many to list, and too rare for the town, only rumored to be real. The Barrier talents, the Mind talents, the Body talents. Some people even had two, or very rarely three talents, called Duas and Trias. The downside to having more than one talent was that they were usually weaker talents, although some retained the skill of two Unas.

There were also rules, too many to remember. Keep your head down, agree with your leaders, Friday is prayer day, Saturday is cleaning day. Everyone must be active an hour a day. We need to be watched to be kept safe, all the time. Never use your talents, except for events dictated by the leaders.  You could never miss work or school, and most importantly, no one is to go outside the Gate, except as a punishment of exile. Safe also kept a force, of a Pack. The Pack was an intelligent group of mutations, wolves that had been modified by the unknown events of the Third World War. The leaders gave them food, and sanctuary in the forest, in exchange for executing “hypocrites that went against the perfect system set in place.”

Too often I was too curious about the past, about why our world was the way it was now. But I had never been caught, and I had become so used to evading the rules, I had let my guard slip. One night, the weekly patrol ran through the town. I had forgotten, and was piecing through books, trying to find something on the history, if the Event was a war, a battle, anything. When the patrol knocked on my door, I almost lost it. The weekly sweep! I could barely shove the books under one of the few pieces of furniture that covered my sparse living room. As soon as the patrol saw my flushed face, they barged past me. I only had time to say hello, before they found the books under my couch.

Immediately, I was taken away to the “court,” made up of our leaders, currently in power for longer than I can remember. The juries, judges, and executioners sat together, a team of five dictators in their high seats, reveling in their semblance of order and power. The trial was over before I could blink, and I was given a last night to pack and say goodbye. As the miniature gavel struck the wooden shelf that one of the judges leaned over, I could hear the snarls and terrible screams of the wolves in my head. I remember sobbing into my best friend, Avery’s arms, as he comforted me.

Avery was also the one to walk me out of the prison, and hugging me, saying, “Goodbye, Sera.” I felt a weight in my pocket, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to look. Walking along the dirt road leading away from Safe, the weight reassured me, even though I never looked. All I could concentrate on was the moment my town’s leaders would allow the Pack to give chase and kill me. I knew that they would be after me soon, and I pulled out one of the few things I could scavenge to pack for the last journey I would make. The map I had found in the town’s library, a pretty building with blue tile floors and hundreds of books. It was of a city, that should have been nearby. After I found it, I realized that the shadows made by the giants of steel and glass, I used the Light talent. I imagined the core of light inside me, and pulled out several large globes of light. The light threw back the shadows, revealing endless expanses of cracked concrete and broken glass, next to the slowly rotting towers of steel. I walked through it, and marveled for a while at the ruined towers of glass and steel that rose above all of the buildings in Safe. Like giant, moth-eaten curtains, they stood around the city, in a way that looked almost protective.

While I wandered in awe through the city, though, in Safe, the wolves were signaled. Red smoke drifted from the town center, as the people of Safe stood in the central park, casting saddened eyes to the sky, where the smoke hovered, a cloud of blood waiting to be spilled. Fur glided over lean muscle as the Pack saw the smoke, and, I remember watching from the town’s edge once, as a little girl, as they streaked together, towards the black blob in the distance. I felt a cold wind then, as it blew through my clothes and into my body, where it became a sense of dread.               

The wind bit through the thin fabric of my dress now, and a howl sounded close by, snapping me back to reality. The Pack is close by, chasing me. I strain now, running through the cracked and broken streets, desperate for shelter. The leader, a brown wolf with eyes as black as the pitfalls in the roads, watches me from the Pack calmly, even as he gives chase. I make turns that take me into places I don’t remember from the map of the dead city. A graveyard, inviting behind its sturdy-looking gate, is to the left, while another abandoned street looms to the right. I hurriedly take the left.

Snarls alert me to the Pack’s proximity as I climb the gate to the graveyard’s entrance. As I clear the other side, the flimsy fabric of my dress rips on the black spires of the gate. I stumble, but am quickly back on my feet. My shoes clack insistently on the cracked pavement as I hurry across. Goosebumps run up my skin, as I  Trees, the now bony heralds of the approaching winter, bow out to me in the increasing wind. Clouds, heavy with rain, soak the graveyard with fat pellets of water. The storm is here.

The Pack collectively snarls as they hurl themselves against the gate. Shivering, I watch from my vantage point in the middle of the graveyard as the gate still holds fast. The leader, as soaked as I am, watches me solemnly with his black-hole eyes as his underlings pound at the entrance. the wind picks up even more, and I remember, reaching into my pocket for Avery’s final gift to me. I pull out a silver rod, and push the button on the bottom. Silvery arcs of electricity spiral from the tip, and relief floods through me. Avery, thank god, had given me a shock wand, a way out! I can just stun the wolves and get away on my own! In my joy, though, I hold it loosely, and the wind rips it from my hands, pulling me by my yellow dress, now flapping in the wind.

The gate is losing the battle with the wolves. Thick metal buckles against the constant beating of the Pack. I search for the silver wand, crushing through leaves, frantic There it is! A soft pile of leaves has caught it, and it now lies in the middle, standing almost straight up. I snatch it and run towards the other side of the graveyard, and begin to climb the  fence. The gate finally collapses, and the wolves rush in. One runs faster than the rest, and I pull out the silver rod. It takes a giant leap, and I push the button again. The wolf, airborne, slightly lower than where I am perched on the gate, touches the rod. The world slows down, as the wolf opens its eyes widely in pain. the wolf’s eyes look milky, I notice, and a dark scar runs across its cheek. I wonder if it is blind. Electricity races through it’s body, and it is blasted backward with a scream that sounds almost human. The others abruptly stop, and watch me cautiously as I hop over the other fence and watch them, holding the rod out in front of me. I back slowly away, before turning to run.

The banging has started again, as furry bodies slam into the metal, which creaks dangerously already. I cut across three streets to the nearest door, and touch the dank wood blocking it with the rod. Electricity shoots through it again, and the wood leaps of the door, shards flying off the logs. Wasting no time, I run through the door, and slam it behind me. The pounding continues in the distance, along with the thundering of the rain, and the occasional screech of protesting metal. Concentrating, I focus on the Light talent, and a small ball of light pops into existence beside me. I notice the remains of what looks like a restaurant I saw in my books, the once-bright metal now dull and rusting. I catch my breath, and test the steps, before running up the stairs, rotten boards threatening to break under my weight. When I reach the top, I stand on the roof, and feel the rain, as I look for the wolves.

Then, I realize, the banging has stopped, and the snarling has resumed, as the Pack runs through the roads. One by one, they all stop. One lifts his snout to the air, and I can see, in horror, a piece of my yellow skirt in its teeth. It howls, and the others gather, before stalking back in my general direction. I make a mistake, and gasp. The leader, ever behind the others, looks right at me, his dark eyes drilling into mine. He utters a short bark, and the others look up and see me, too. The wolves fan out, before coming back around the building. To my death, where the closed door is. An ugly crack sounds, and I can hear them howling in the building now. I’m desperate as I look for something to help me. There’s a large bang downstairs, and I can tell one of the wolves has fallen through the rotten stairs. That’s two down, and five left to get away from. I hurriedly pile whatever I can find on the door in front of me, as the wolves race up the stairs. When I’m done, I spot a long, old board, and decide to drag it onto the ledge, to try and reach the other building. The board looks steady, as I clamber on. The snarls are right behind the door, and the banging begins. A snout noses through the widening crack in the door, eager to kill me. I crawl across to the other side, and the wolves burst through, and the leader of the remainder of his Pack snaps at the air. I abandon moving the board, reach into my Light again, and project a brilliant flash. The wolf that had just gotten on the board screeches as it is blinded, and staggers off the beam to fall to the ground, far below. Even as I cross the roof of the other building and close the door, they run across the beam. Another horrible crack, and I hear a pitiful yelp as the beam breaks and another wolf falls. More banging, cracking, as I hurry down the stairs, the silver rod in my hand, while I count down the Pack. Three left. I can hear claws slipping on the steps as they try to go down the stairs as well. Finally, finally, I reach the ground floor, and the door. More boards cover the door, so I touch it again with the rod, and the door is blasted off it’s hinges. The wolf who fell off the roof hears, and comes out the alley between the two buildings, limping but still fast. I run again, but I tire. The wind screams, and so do I, for I realize my helplessness, as the wolf I stunned comes racing out of the darkness, and gives that humanlike scream as it chases me. They gain ground, but I can’t look back, I need to keep running.
Eventually, after a few minutes, the first bite lands on my soaked skirt, taking more of the fabric. I drop the wand as I tear away, and scream again. I’ve lost my only weapon, but I can’t go back, the Pack is too close. Adrenaline pumps through me, and I go faster for a few seconds. The next bite is on my ankle. I scream in pain and fall to the ground, and flail at the wolf, knocking it off me for a few seconds. I reach into my Light talent for what I think is my final time, and pull out one last flash. It is not nearly as bright as before, watery and full of shadows. The wolves barely grimace. They fall upon me then, as I cry for my death, and they rip me apart in seconds. The leader watches me from behind his Pack, almost sadly. I wonder if he wanted me to escape. I know from class that the brain can live twenty seconds without a heart. I stare up at the sky, as my sight darkens and raindrops hit my face, my sight reduced to a thin line. Though I am being eaten, surely, I cannot feel anymore. My tiny line of sight shows a thin bolt of bright electricity, briefly lighting the sky.
“Beautiful,” I breathe. I die before I can hear the thunder, and the wolves pick at my bones.
© Copyright 2013 Sam Hillway (aleumis at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1921191-Backlash-Prologue