WRITING
These passages are all drawn from a story of mine that follows a young mother gifted with powerful psychic abilities who is trying to survive with her young daughter in a post-apocalyptic world. After escaping from a destroyed bunker together, they spend years on the road before being separated when they are both captured by slavers. The plot follows both of their divergent paths until their eventual reunion many years later.
Veronica escapes from the bunker
The bunker was completely empty as this stage, gripped by a deathly quiet. Veronica stood before the massive, imposing blast door, where numerous decomposing bodies lay littered around it, frozen hands clawing feebly at it. She rested her palms against the cold metal door, and began to focus all her energy towards bending it forward. The blast door did not respond at first. It continued to sit there, indifferent.
Veronica was weak and starving. She barely had any strength left. Her eyes were sunken, her hair was falling out in places, her legs trembled, her bones ached. And as she pressed harder and harder against the door, she felt the agonising strain increase on her mind, like a red hot knife was being slowly driven into the side of her head. She gasped and groaned and panted feverishly.
Yet she soon felt the ground around her feet begin to shiver in response and so she pushed harder and harder. The pain inside her head intensified and she started crying out in anguish, feeling as if daggers were being driven into her eyes and into her brain. Blood began to flow from her nose and she could feel her knees buckling, and her vision fading. Fear gripped her as she thought she had failed. Suddenly there was a colossal sound that deafened her eardrums, cracking across the vast empty hall like a whip. Veronica's eyes rolled up into her head and she felt herself falling before blacking out.
Veronica was lying dazed on the floor when she came to, feeling a soft pulling on her fingers. She opened her eyes and could make out the small frame of her daughter Ela in the dim light, tugging at her. Veronica looked up at the blast door, which now had a massive fissure running through it. It was bent inwards slightly, twisted near the bottom corner. Veronica could not see much in the darkness, but she smelt and tasted damp, musty air. She had broken through.
Peering in, she could see the tiny gap she had created in the rent door was enough to squeeze Ela through. Veronica smiled as she felt the tiny body wriggle through to freedom - the first time she had well and truly smiled since the horrid violence had began below. She slowly pulled herself to her feet and crawled to the tiny gap, before dragging herself through. It was only because Veronica had allowed herself to become so famished and starved of food - refusing to partake in cannibalism - that she managed to fit through. Her wafer thin body, now only skin and bones, was just small enough.
Veronica staggered forward in the dark passage in front of her, clutching Ela to her chest. After a short distance they reached a large circular platform and a cylindrical opening extending upwards into the darkness. Veronica collapsed onto the platform, activating the motion sensors and resulting in the platform shifting beneath her and with a series of creaks and groans, began steadily rising upwards.
After a little while Veronica willed herself to her feet as she heard a massive hatch slide open above her, and her face was assaulted by rapid, fierce blasts of cold, freezing air. Veronica had never felt anything like it on her face, and her skin tingled incessantly in response. Veronica felt her strained lungs fill with the freshest air she had ever inhaled. The platform beneath her shuddered a little as it stopped, and all of a sudden she was on the surface of the earth.
It was the dead of night, and Veronica could barely see in front of her. Her eyes were confounded at being confronted with such far-reaching sights for the first time, and she blinked rapidly as she tried to make sense of what she now saw around her. Everything appeared to spread out endlessly before her. For the first time in her life she couldn't make out a wall or roof near her. Her mind was puzzled at the revelation.
Veronica's heart raced, and she fell to her knees in awe, her breath caught in her throat. Several long moments passed, before Veronica finally collapsed backwards, and started crying out at the pitch black sky in utter defiance and triumph, breaking into uncontrollable fits of rasping laughter. Ela, still clutched to her chest then began giggling along with her, and together lay like that for a long time, laughing at the empty night sky.
Ela is captured by slavers
Ela was amazed at what she saw. The strange, pallid, ghostly flower was striving upwards, trying to pull itself up and out of the dense pile of coal rocks. Defiantly it twisted its way over the bleached, rotting wooden sleepers still gripped in place by the rusted metal rails. Ela hopped over the sleepers, making soft little crunches as her boots bounced off the ballasts. She knelt down before the gloomy looking flower, feeling her way down the stem into the rough stones to find the end of it. She cleared a few rocks away, tightened her grip and tried to yank it free, but it wouldn’t budge. The roots must have clawed their way in deep.
Ela retrieved her knife and carefully wedged the blade in between the ballasts to cut it free. Unable to get her blade far enough in, she huffed in frustration and lent against the rail to try and get a better angle. Focused so intently on the retrieving the magnificent flower, she almost didn't notice that the rail was faintly vibrating. Ela perked her head up and glanced down the track behind her. The large subway tunnel continued to gape at her with its pitch black maw. She couldn’t see any light coming from within. From the other side the track was bare as far as the eye could see.
Ela crouched back down and lay her hand on the other rail. It was vibrating as well. Still faint, but increasing. She began to feel around the ballasts, which were also beginning to tremble. Ela stepped back, away from the railway tracks, leaving the lonely asphodel bloom behind. From within the tunnel she could hear the faint shrieks of train wheels braking against metal rails. Ela stood back, enthralled. She tried to turn and run, but found herself transfixed to the spot.
As the sound of the approaching locomotive intensified, she felt a thick gust of wind billow across her face. A few seconds passed ominously until all of sudden an enormous freight train burst forth out of the darkness, blowing past her with a tremendous screech. Metallic howling filled her ears as the train came to a sudden halt. Hanging onto the railings tucked into the sides of each carriage were dark figures clad in body armour, their faces obscured by gas masks and tinted visors.
Ela felt a cold dread fill her veins. Instinct kicked in and she began to turn and run when a towering figure emerged from the front carriage of the train. He began to stride forcefully towards her. Ela spun around in panic, turning away from the huge figure and trying to flee down the tracks, as more of the figures jumped off the train and began to close in around her. Ela realised she was trapped and began to scream as loud as she could for her mother, but was only met with silence from the men around her.
Suddenly she felt a thick, cold arm wrap itself around her neck. The man's forearm filled her vision, the weathered skin covered with a long, winding serpent tattoo. Ela flailed wildly, still gripping her knife, screaming all the while for her mother. She felt a soft prick in the side of her neck, and the strength seemed to deflate from her body. She became limp, her body paralysed. Ela could do nothing but watch, her mouth agape, as the figures silently returned to their perches along the length of the train, which began to rumble back to life, pulling away towards the tunnel.
The towering figure gripped her carried her silently up onto the front platform and into the driver’s carriage. As the train powered forward, Ela noticed the pallid ghostly flower still sprouting forth from between the ballasts, before it was enveloped in shadow as the churning machinery of the freight train rolled over the top of it. The armoured train was sucked back into the blackness of the tunnel, and Ela too was consumed in darkness.
Ela dreams of her mother
Ela’s feet pounded the heavy snowfall as she struggled up the hill, her face bombarded with nasty pricks of hail and sleet, her cheeks frozen and numb. She raised an arm to shield herself from the never-ending assault of snow and ice as she forced herself further and further up the hill. The sky was dark and grim around her, with black, ominous clouds rolling overheard. She could see nothing but darkness ahead of her, her path forward occasionally punctuated by brief rays of moonlight. As she neared the summit, she could make out a small figure kneeling near the cliff edge.
The roar of the raging snowstorm began to steadily die down as Ela moved closer, until the howling wind had become nothing more than a light, chilly breeze. The area around her grew calm and still. Ela fell to her knees in exhaustion, sinking into the snow up to her waist. She looked up ahead to the figure kneeling near the edge, a tall, slender woman. The woman was wearing a short black bomber jacket with its thick, fur-lined hood pulled up close around her head, and a dark purple skirt that ran down past her knees. She was covered in snow from head to toe, like she had been kneeling there for some time.
Ela pulled herself up and started running towards her, almost falling over repeatedly in the snow. The woman still did not move. Ela could feel herself shouting but no sound came out. She reached out her arm, trembling as she rested it against the woman’s shoulder. The woman’s body felt light, almost incorporeal, like she was made of straw. Ela gently spun her around so she was facing her. But there was nothing to face her with. There were no eyes, nose or mouth. No features at all. The face was utterly blank, like she was a mannequin made entirely of human skin.
As Ela stared at her in shock, the woman began to fall backwards limply. Ela instinctively tried to throw her arms out to grab her, but found her limbs seized up and her joints locked, and suddenly her entire body was paralysed by a surge of pain that shot through her whole body. The woman continued to fall, swallowed up by the darkness as she disappeared off the edge of the cliff. Ela was forced to her knees, the pain intensifying as it surged up and down her body. She began crying out, this time the sound piercing right through her ears like a sudden clap of thunder.
Ela flailed weakly, her hands clawing at her neck, where she could feel the cold steel ring of the electrified collar that encased her neck. Suddenly the paralysing shock stopped as quickly as it began and Ela found herself flailing on her tiny bunk in the overcrowded sleeping quarters of the slaves’ dens. A set of large hands wrapped themselves around her ankles and yanked her violently to the ground, where she was hit by a barrage of shouting and spitting.
Ela escapes from captivity
Gleaming figures adorned in white robes and flowing red cloaks strode purposefully through the street. Thick gas masks were attached to their faces, with long tubes protruding from each side, partially obscured by a loose shawl around their heads. Gas canisters were strapped to their backs, and each held a long hose in their hands, which blew out torrents of flame. As they marched along the battered road, they were making some kind of noise together in unison, like a chant or recitation. Ela could not distinguish any words, only watched on, transfixed by the sight.
The figures advanced unperturbed on the slavers who were firing back sporadically. As they closed the distance the white robed figures let go of their hoses and produced several gleaming metal blades, before falling upon the slavers. A violent melee ensued, punctuated by sudden screams and shouting, as well as the low, haunting tones of what sounded like singing coming from the attackers. Ela finally managed to tear herself away from the window. As she made for the door it suddenly swung back open, and one of the white robed figures stepped inside.
The figure was tall, and loomed over Ela, who scrambled backwards on her hands and feet, afraid. Ela could not make out any facial features behind the large hood and full face masks, but she could hear the soft breathing come from underneath the gas mask, which sounded feminine. The figure scanned the room slowly, spying the still-bleeding slaver from before, crumpled in a bloody mess in the corner. He had stopped making any noise, only twitching slightly, his arms limp as blood drained away from him. The figure looked across the room at the blood streaked floor, and then over to the quivering Ela, still clutching the bloody knife in her hands in a weak defensive posture. The figure gazed at her curiously, but did not say anything. She merely cocked her head slightly to the side as if to say, “Did you do this?”
Ela began to slowly climb to her feet, while the robed woman inside the room watched her carefully. She did not say anything, but took a single step towards her. Petrified, Ela scrambled backwards away from her, her back pressing up against the windowsill. The hooded figure stopped short of her, and after a brief pause, extended one of her gloved hands out to her. Ela glanced anxiously at the hand, her mind clouded with uncertainty, before turning and running past her and out the door. She glanced back briefly, and caught a glimpse of the figure still standing inside the open doorway, motionless, watching her run. She did not make any attempt to follow.
As Ela burst onto the street, the heat from the fires burning along the road blasted her face. The hot, dry air was punctuated by the screams of people being engulfed in flames, and the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. Ela rushed past mounds of flaming bodies and debris, desperately searching for a way out. The sky above her began to darken as plumes of smoke filled the air, and she coughed and spluttered as she forced her way forward.
Ela could see the outline of the bridge appear up ahead, where sporadic fighting was taking place. Bullets whizzed past her head as she dropped down onto the old railroad tracks and scuttled past the chaotic battle taking place on the bridge next to her. Clouds of smoke rained down debris around her as she ran, desperate to make it across to the other side and beyond the perimeter of the settlement.
Ela ran and ran and ran. She ran until the sounds of gunfire were a distant echo to her ears, and the massive plumes of smoke became a distant sight on the horizon. She ran along the cracked concrete highway, across dirt roads and hot desert sand, refusing to stop even as the sun disappeared and she became surrounded by the blackness of night, tripping and stumbling several times as she fumbled through the dark.
She ran until her feet were numb with pain, and her legs began to falter, weak at the knees. She continued to force her exhausted body onwards, telling herself that nowhere would be far enough away from that place. Her legs screamed with pain at her until finally they could hold her up no longer. They collapsed under her weight, and she went crashing into the dust.
Ela groaned in agony as she slowly lifted herself back up. She staggered forward, barely able to keep herself upright, hobbling painfully along the road until she finally reached a small border checkpoint building. She made her way inside, finding the place long since abandoned. She slumped down against one of the walls, her entire body burning with exhaustion. She was covered in blood and dirt, with sweat streaking down her forehead. But she was alive, and she was free.
Ela and Jax go hunting in the irradiated forest
The stag sped through the cloudy forest, darting this way and that in between black, charred trees, its hooves pounding along the endless bed of dead leaves that spread across the forest floor. Behind it something followed close behind, keeping close at its heels, driving it ever forward into in the depths of the forest. The creature’s dark fur rippled as the wind swept through, its yellow eyes bored a hole straight forward into the stag, never deviating a touch from its target.
The vegetation thickened and the stag lost sight of its feet, struck a thin log concealed beneath the undergrowth and tumbled forwards, its legs tying up as it tried to scramble away. The creature behind it leapt forward but misjudged and crashed into a nearby tree, releasing a frustrated howl as the stag regained its footing and surged forward again. The black creature shook itself free of dirt and turned to skulk away in defeat. The stag was ahead by now, anxious to put as much distance as it could between it and the dark beast behind it.
The stag continued hurtling forward in its desperation to escape the deadly forest when the cold dead air was suddenly pierced by a small, whistling noise. A thin bolt glided across the clearing and slammed into the upper thigh of the stag. At once all the strength deflated from the animal’s legs and its entire body crumpled into the mounds of dirt and dry leaves, somersaulting as the momentum of its desperate flight hurled it forwards.
The stag desperately tried to climb back to its feet, but its front leg was crippled beyond use and it could only hobble forward slowly for a few brief seconds before the black creature was upon it, wrapping its thick jaws around its neck, driving it back down into the dirt. A still silence returned to the darkened forest, interrupted only by the feverish panting of the black creature as it continued to bite deeper into the stag’s neck. Once the animal’s bloody, sweaty corpse stopped twitching, the creature released its grip and wandered off to the side of the clearing, where it started barking out excitedly into the mist-covered tree line.
For awhile nothing appeared to move, until a clump of dead grass and leaves shook itself awake and a small figure emerged from beneath it. The figure was covered in dark tanned clothing, a hood draped over its head, its face obscured by a full face gas mask that featured an unreflective, large gray visor. A sleeveless coat hung down by the figure’s sides, forming a kind of small dark cape behind it. The figure was slim and fairly short, about five feet tall, small enough to easily concealed itself beneath a large enough log or in the thick undergrowth. The figure blended seamlessly into the environment surrounding it, until it slowly removed its hood and out fell several loose braids of bright reddish-orange hair, like a still flame was enveloping its head. The figure pulled up a small wooden crossbow covered in clumps of dry grass and leaves out of the undergrowth, hoisted it around its back and climbed out of the brush.
Ela jumped down softly from her hidden perch on the slope where she had embedded herself in waiting for the stag. She had heard Jax’s excited barking and knew her shot had rang true. As she approached the dead animal, Jax trotted towards her. She knelt down and ruffled the fur around his ears, and he whined joyfully in response.
“Though it had escaped you,” Ela’s voice was muffled by the gas mask as she gave the black wolf another big rub around his ears.
She trudged off to begin skinning the stag and gathering all its meat. Once she was done, she portioned out a small amount and gave it to Jax, who devoured it greedily, before stowing the rest away in her pack. Ela began making her way out of the forest with Jax close behind, panting softly at her side.
“You won’t like where we going next,” she said to him. “Although I don’t much like it either. We’re going to Hub 17, which means people. Lots of people."
Jax looked up at her, his head cocked in curiosity.
“But first, we need to find somewhere to sleep for the night.”
Ela and Jax wandered across the desolate hills as the glaring sun began to disappear behind the horizon, darkness enveloping the empty landscape. The dead trees that populated the forest began to thin out as they exited the woods, until eventually they reached a road that stretched out as far they could see in the dying light, littered with burned out wrecks of cars and trucks.
They soon came across a military checkpoint with a concrete bunker built into the roadside. Ela began looking for a way inside. After spinning the latch to the big metal door, she flashed her torch around the interior before taking a few cautious steps inside, making sure it was empty. Jax circled around outside, howling softly.
“Quit whining,” Ela replied, “You’ve been in these before. This one’s no different.”
She pushed open the door and he reluctantly trotted in, bristling and snarling quietly to himself. Ela closed and sealed the door. Jax paced around the confined space for a while before picking a spot in the corner and laying down. He whined softly as she took a look around the shelter.
There wasn’t much in it. A solitary desk and chair stood at one end of the room. The light bulb hanging above it had long since burned out. All of the food stockpiles had been looted years ago. Only stacks of files left in aging cardboard boxes were still on the shelves.
Ela plonked herself down on the chair and removed her gas mask, taking a long, deep breath and coughing slightly as she inhaled the damp, musty air. Her cheeks were faintly streaked with dust and dirt and she blinked several times as her bright, steel-grey eyes adjusted to the darkness. She brushed her hands through her fiery red hair, which was tied back into a long ponytail with several loose braids hanging free. She sat in silence for several long moments, taking in a brief moment of respite, before pulling herself and going over to the bunker entrance to begin setting up her assortment of traps.
Ela placed several tripwires next to the door, one outside and two more on the inside. She then spread a handful of caltrops across the floor near the door and on the outside, and finally armed two proximity mines and placed them on both approaches to the bunker. Satisfied, she returned to the desk and spread out a faded map covered with her own sketches, drawings and illustrations. Several major urban centres had been circled and crossed off, except for one: the remains of the city of Savannah, which she had learnt that roving traders called Hub 16.
As she was poring over her map, Ela noticed there was a ham radio sitting silently on the desk, caked in dust. Intrigued, she reached forward and tried to turn it on. After several frustrated minutes of tinkering she finally got a dim light to glow and faint static began crackling out of it. Ela flipped the dials for a while before she heard a disembodied voice calling out at her in muffled tones - the words sounding long and drawn out, and a low rumbling filled the background, the warped sounds of sirens that had blared non stop for over a hundred years.
Attention. This … pre-record… message. This … will repeat. Alert. Alert. ….. emergency transmission …… United … Civil Def… Agency. … not … drill. Repeat. … not … drill. Air raid … are active. … civilians …. message …. seek immediate cover ……. fallout … This …. repeat.
The voice became garbled and consumed in static as the radio sputtered and sparked before flickering off. Ela lifted herself up from the desk and wandered over to Jax, sliding herself down on the cold concrete wall, facing towards the entrance. The wolf was curled up in a ball, but kept his pale yellow eyes trained on the metal doorway. Ela stroked his thick fur coat for awhile before pulling a serrated knife from her boat and started sharpening it as she waited for night to pass, and sleep to come. When it finally did, Ela dozed off with her hand still holding her blade, with one eye still watching the door, in constant expectation that something might come through. Ela was confident that even if she missed it, Jax wouldn’t - he had always been her first and last line of defence.
Ela rescues Jax from a sniper
Jax was gone.
Ela had fallen asleep to the sound of his rough, grizzly snoring only to wake up this morning with him no longer there. She searched each room and through every nook and cranny, growing increasingly frantic. Jax would never leave without her, never wanted to go hunting on his own. Ela hurried up towards the bunker entrance and out onto the dilapidated roads and raised highways that loomed above.
Ela wandered around all day, calling out Jax's name, but the derelict roads were as cold and dead as ever. Ela could felt the pit in her stomach deepen as the day wore on.
"Jax! Where the hell are you?"
Even as the sun began to hide behind thick, dark clouds, Ela kept looking, finding herself wandering along the main highway where corpses of cars were strewn around the pavement.
"Jax, god damn it! How could you leave me? Why would you just up and vanish?" she cried softly to herself.
Ela could feel her voice tiring and she became raspy and faint. By late afternoon the rain had come. It was heavy and vicious, and foul winds blew it fiercely through the air like icy darts. Ela started running, frantically.
“JAAAAAAAAAAX!” she screamed, her voice cracking part way through. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she yelled and screamed in panic, stumbling blindly through the blistering rain and wind. And then she found him.
He wasn’t moving at first. It was only when he picked up her scent that he started whining uncontrollably, trying to twist his head around but somehow unable to move the rest of his body. He was lying on his stomach, in between two columns of parked cars. Ela almost collapsed when she saw him, but managed to keep herself upright and broke out into a mad sprint towards him. She felt her heart stop when she caught sight of the bright crimson flash of blood through the rain.
Jax’s right paw was caught in a steel wolf trap, a gleaming metal contraption with a large spring and thick jaws that were in the process of crushing Jax’s leg into a mess of bloody sinew and cartilage. As she rushed forward to help him an almighty bang rang out across the street, exploding like a cannon. Ela stumbled back in shock, thinking at first that it was a lightning strike. But there wasn’t any flash of light. Then another deafening crack erupted from somewhere across the street and Ela felt something whistle through the air past her head, slamming heavily into the pavement.
Ela dropped instinctively to her stomach, realizing all too late that it was a concealed sniper, and she had just wandered into his kill zone. She crawled backwards as another crack whipped through the air, the sound emanating from somewhere ahead of Jax. She threw herself behind the nearest car, crawling over the soaking tarmac and up against the rear of a large truck, which blocked what she hoped was the sniper’s line of sight.
Ela was hidden from view, but Jax was not, still pinned to the centre of the road. The sniper fired again. He appeared to be getting closer, because the bullet struck the tarmac next to Jax, showering him with fragments of asphalt. The big wolf moaned wildly in fear, shaking his head as his pointy ears quivered and recoiled from the deafening noise.
“STOP!” Ela screamed out into the void. There was no response except the howling wind.
The sniper fired again, and this time he found his mark. The bullet ripped through Jax’s hind leg and he howled in agony.
“STO-O-O-OP!” Ela screamed again. “STOOOOOOOOOP!”
Ela began to sob as thick streams of Jax’s dark red blood washed down the battered tarmac towards her. Any moment she expected another shot to ring out and bring a sudden end to his frantic howling. But it never came.
After a few long, agonising moments, Ela began to crawl forward through the rain, keeping herself low and clinging to her crossbow. She collapsed next to Jax’s wet and shaking body, hugging him tightly. He was bleeding profusely and trembling violently from the freezing rain. Ela expected to another deafening shot to billow out any moment, but still the sniper did not fire. She fumbled helplessly with the giant metal jaws that were clamped around Jax’s paw, trying to find some way to pry them open. She pulled desperately on the metal clamps, but her soaked hands kept sliding off the smooth metal and she couldn’t get a grip.
Ela panted feverishly. “Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. It’s okay, it’s okay.”
Ela was so focused on what she was doing that she didn’t notice him come up behind her until he placed a hand on her shoulder. Immediately she spun around, her crossbow still in her hand. She glanced up at the figure for a split second, who began to raise his arms. Ela didn’t hesitate and a metal bolt buried itself in his throat. The sniper's eyes bulged, sticking out of the thick scarf wrapped around his head. His hands grabbed frantically at the bolt stuck in his neck before sinking slowly to his knees.
As he wrapped his hand around the wooden shaft protruding from his throat, Ela saw his sleeve fall away, revealing a long, winding serpent tattoo disappearing up his arm. She stared at him in shock. It was him.
“It’s you!” she yelled at him. “Who are you?! What is this?!” Ela pointed at his arm.
The man gazed up at her in terrified shock, his mouth contorting as he tried to form words but couldn’t, the hole in his neck spitting blood.
“Tell me!” Ela screamed at him. “Who are you!?”
He crumpled backwards, his eyes full of fear and his lips quivering as he choked on his own blood. Ela began to tremble uncontrollably as she shouted at the slowly dying man, yelling at him in desperation while the life slowly ebbed out of him, washing away down the tarmac. He became limp and his eyes went still and empty. He was dead.
Ela stared at him in disbelief. She couldn’t tear herself away from the sight, not until Jax’s whining voice became so loud as to pull her back down to reality. Ela bent down next to him, and after much effort she managed to pry open the metal clamps just enough to slide his crushed paw out. It was a horrid sight. Jax’s paw was bloody and mangled, and his back leg was still spurting blood from where he was shot. He tried to move but fell over, howling in agony.
Ela bent down and lifted the animal up, before heading towards a small patch of flickering light in a large bus further down the road, perched on a slightly raised part of the highway. It was out of the rain, at least. Inside there was a glowing lamp and a thin mattress. Most of the seats had been torn out, and the windows were boarded up. This was clearly the sniper’s blank. Ela lay Jax down on the mattress and fumbled around in her pack for her first aid kit.
“This will hurt. I’m so sorry, boy,” she whispered as she dampened a strip of bandages in a bottle of alcohol and began to wipe down the bullet wound on his leg. Jax howled, and looked at her with pleading eyes. Ela wiped tears from her eyes as she began to try and patch up his wound. Once she was done all she could do was huddle next to him and hope that he would pull through.
Veronica rescues her daughter from certain death in battle
Ela collapsed to the ground as all the strength deflated from legs. She could barely feel her right hand, only the heavy pulsing of pain from her mangled hand and the burning holes of the bullet wounds through her arm and shoulder. She rolled back and gazed up at the sky, which had turned a dark crimson red. Heavy clouds of smoke and dust filled the world around her, occasionally dotted with the bright flash of an explosion and the sporadic bursts of tracer rounds. The air rained down soot and ash, coating the devastated city ruins in a thick layer of smog. Half-dead creatures staggered along the road, some clutching blown off limbs, others limping gradually through the haze.
Ela’s entire body screamed in pain as she tried to move it, clawing at the ground with her one intact hand and feebly attempting to shift her weight along the road. She made it about an inch before the pain became overwhelming and her body gave out again. As she gazed forth at the broken road that stretched out ahead of her, she saw something approaching. Emerging from the clouds of smoke and dust came the ranks of the Dominion, a black mass moving forward in total stillness and silence, with slow and even steps. Small dots of red protruded from their helmeted gas masks, piercing through the smoky haze that drifted along the road.
They shot everyone in sight. Anything that moved nearby was immediately met with a short, swift volley of bullets that drove it back into the ground. The Dominion forces gradually split up into smaller units and began slowly and methodically purging the entire roadway, eliminating everyone they found, searching every single little nook and cranny. The main force continued to march endlessly forward, drawing closer to Ela. The heavy sounds of their footsteps pounding the pavement vibrated her head and shoulder as she lay incapacitated on the ground.
Ela tried to work her hands and arms into searching the area around her, feeling around for her weapon. But her bloody fingertips only grasped air, and the pain shooting through her arm reminded her that she had no strength to lift her gun regardless. The Dominion soldiers were less than fifty metres away now. Ela’s mind went into overdrive, struggling for a way to defend herself, but her body was defeated. There was nothing left to be done. Ela could only lie there in agony in her own growing pool of blood, and wait for the inevitable.
The pain had become so intense that she felt her entire body going numb. She could no longer feel anything from her right elbow down, as though her mangled right hand had been completely severed. Ela couldn’t stop her eyelids from rolling shut as she collapsed into unconsciousness. Through the growing darkness she managed to make out two small pinpricks of coloured light shining through, believing it to be the metal face of a Dominion soldier as he stared emptily into the corpse of this bloodied, twitching girl before delivering a final round to her head. She heard no bang, but she was already gone by then, passing on to a world of all-consuming blackness.
***
Ela did not expect to feel anything after death. She always assumed that it would be a quick transition, like the slip out of consciousness that happens every night when one falls asleep. You never remember the exact moment when you fall asleep. It just happens. She imagined it would be the same in death. Just more pronounced, more permanent, and probably a lot more painful if you suffered a violent one. With the added bonus of there not being any time at which you would wake up again. But as her consciousness continued to drift around this empty void, Ela could still feel… something. Death wasn’t something one should fear, she once read, because it wasn’t something you could experience to begin with. But she was experiencing something now.
There was a hot, burning sensation vaguely to the right of her, and a pounding agony all around, like screws were tightening around her head. She felt solid and corporeal at one moment, then in another as if all her physical matter had drained out of her and turned into liquid. Then she felt light and airy, transient, drifting and gliding through nothingness. She tried to speak but could formulate no sound. She tried to lift her arms but nothing responded. She tried to open her eyes, but they remained sealed shut, like she was locked in an eternal fit of sleep paralysis.
There was noise around her - faint, but pronounced. Every now and then it broke through. It was a mixture of what sounded like weeping, often accompanied by soft tones formulating some kind of unintelligible speech. Ela could not tell if the noise was coming from her or not, because she could not feel her own mouth. The searing pain burning its way through her was occasionally interrupted by what felt like tiny drops of water, which were quickly sucked in and swallowed up by the fire that was engulfing her. Ela screamed in silence for what felt like an eternity as she drifted endlessly through this strange and torturous void of space and time. And then all at once her entire being was pulled violently back into the world of the conscious.
Ela’s senses were blurred and dulled as they tried to make sense of the world around her. Her eyelids still would not open, stuck in paralysis, but she felt fresh air flow into her mouth and nostrils and fill her burning lungs. She felt the heavy pounding of her heart in her chest. She tried to move her limbs, but they were a dead weight, unresponsive. Her arms and legs were numb and full of pins and needles. She tried to form words, finding nothing responsive at first, but eventually she began to feel a faint vibration in her throat, and the sound of weak croaking reached her ears.
Ela kept struggling to move her body, slowly feeling the pull of her muscles return as blood steadily flowed back into her arms and legs. She tried to squeeze some life back into her hands, twitching and clenching her fingers, when she suddenly realised she was moving the thumb and fingers on her right hand. Ela managed to roll her head slightly to the side, where she fought painfully to force her eyelids open, finally gaining an image of the world around her.
She first caught sight of her right arm, as well as her hand. There was no damage to it. Her right hand was pale, completely devoid of colour, but all her fingers were connected to their joints, perfectly intact. Ela ran her eyes up her arm and her shoulder. It was similarly discoloured, but aside from a few streaks of red, showed no sign of injury, or of any of the dozen or so bullets that had ripped through them. Ela’s mind raced. Was she alive or dead? Had she died and been reborn in a new body? Was she still herself? Was there an afterlife after all?
Ela glanced down at the rest of her body. She was wrapped tightly in a faded white blanket, which was stained all the way down with splotches of blood and dirt. Her bare feet stuck out from the end of what appeared to be an opened capsule lined with a soft mattress. Ela noticed a few loose strands of her fiery red hair blowing gently across her chin and the front of her torso. Her hair was long, a lot longer than she remembered. Ela gradually lifted up her arms, which felt like dead weights, and tried to touch her face. Her fingers were cold and numb as she pressed them against her forehead, which was still burning hot. She could feel her face drenched in sweat, along with the back of her neck and shoulders. It had soaked through her clothes and into the sheets wrapped around her body.
Ela dropped her arms back down, lying still for several long moments as she breathed feverishly. Looking around her, Ela could see that she was somewhere on a rooftop, surrounded by several large columned arches and flower beds in what looked like some sort of rooftop garden. A cool breeze floated by, nestling against her cheeks. As she lay back her view was filled by the open expanse of the sky, dimmed slightly by several loose cloud formations drifting by. As Ela studied the world around her, she caught sight of a figure standing motionless near the edge of the roof, who appeared to be resting against the balcony, back to her. Ela’s blurred vision could not make out who or what the figure was, but it appeared tall, slender, and cloaked in black, almost like a shadow or silhouette.
Ela worked up enough strength in her body so she could loosen the blankets wrapped around her and roll over and out of the capsule bed she was in. As she tried to put her weight on her feet, her legs immediately gave way and she crumpled to the cold stone floor, toppling over a table containing a large bowl of blood-stained water and a number of dirtied cloth towels and wraps. Ela gasped in pain as she flailed around like a fish out of water. As she rolled over onto her back, she caught sight of a sudden movement ahead of her, near the balcony, as the figure appeared to turn around. Ela was able to shift herself up onto her knees and managed to steady herself on the bed as she tried to find her footing. She rested one arm against the side of the bed as she tested her weight again, her legs quivering and her knees wobbling as she struggled to stand up straight. Ela panted in frustration as a small, soft voice filled with anxiety and worry filled her ears.
“Are you okay?”
Ela looked up, her bleary eyes focusing on the figure standing before her. It was a woman, dressed in black with a long purple skirt. She was wearing a short, fur-lined aviator coat wrapped around her shoulders, with its thick hood lying down around her neck. She had very long, jet-black hair that billowed softly around her head and face. Her skin was clean and pale, without a speck of dust or grime. Her entire body seemed perfectly free of any disfigurement or damage. The only exception was three small cuts on her cheek and around her mouth, long since faded but still noticeable. She had a strange complexion, as though she seemed to be of several different ages at once. Her voice sounded young and innocent, yet she stood tall and open with the mature posture of a nurturing mother, and all the while her face seemed to be very old. Though it lacked any wrinkles or other visible signs of ageing, it seemed hardened and weathered by several generations of life experience. But what struck out most about her was her deep purple eyes, which seemed to almost glow softly against the backdrop of her pale face. Her hands were clasped in a gesture of concern as she leaned forward.
“Who are you?” Ela tried to ask, but she could only manage to croak the first word before her voice failed her. She remained seated on the cold stone ground, staring up at the stranger with careful apprehension in her eyes.
“It's alright” she replied in her soft, endearing tone. “Please, let me help."
She gently reached out towards Ela, who watched her closely but did not have the strength to resist as the woman slid her hands under her armpits and lifted her back up and onto the bed. She released Ela carefully, like she had just delicately balanced a fragile piece of china. Her touch was soft and her eyes were reassuring. “You were hurt very badly. I wasn’t sure at certain points whether you were still alive or not. But you are.”
“I’m not dead?” Ela managed in response.
The woman shook her head. “You are safe now. Everything is alright."
"Who are you?" Ela found the words this time.
The woman smiled softly. "My name is Veronica." She paused briefly. "I'm your mother."