Act I: Prologue – Day 1
Aliens have invaded th’ Earth, but humans are still killing each otha’. Why am Ah not surprised?
Mah feet go clap ‘gainst th’ cold cobblestone path. Behin’ me Ah hear th’ scurried march o’ th’ Chosen , an organizatishun dedicated tah killin’ scavengers on th’ Surface an' stealin' their supplies. Th’ canned food in mah backpack rattle ‘gainst one anotha as Ah run ‘long. Th’ grip on mah axe tightens as mah shoulder whisps bah a corner’s edge, nose blarin’ steam. Ah swear tah God Ah ain’t dyin’ today!
Ah turn ‘round—
“Oof!” A large blue dumpsta’s square edge punches me in th’ gut! Ah double ova quick— brain rattles—an’ mah chin clashes ‘gainst th’ filthy lid! Ah crumple, takin’ in quick, nasty ass anguished breaths. As Ah roll ‘round on th’ flo’, curled up in agony, Luna’s cold light casts big, scary shadows ‘cross th’ scattered flo’ tiles: a pair o’ two, four, no, six legs.
Ah scramble tah mah feet. No time tah hide, huh? Ah snort. ‘Spose Ah’ll jus’ haftah hunt th’ hunters.
One o’ ‘em darts outta covah, pistol raised. Mah arm flashes forward. A blur o’ silver, an’ th’ next thing ya kno’, his arm is on th’ flo’ an’ mah now bloody axe is embedded intah th’ brick alley wall. Th’ short haired blonde man wit’ deep, shimmerin’ blue eyes wails in horror, clutchin’ his rite shouldah as a burst o’ crimson ‘xplodes from th’ empty socket, drowin’ what’s left o’ his floppin’ red arm like a dyin’ fish outta a sea o’ red water.
Th’ Chosen ‘round th’ corner gasp, but they ain’t got time tah be surprised. Ah run up tah th’ wall, grip mah axe, then bounce off wit’ a swift, clean swipe. Flinch back as an intense copper sprays pours ova me from th' brown man’s throat, his thick goate pointed skyward as his head unhinges. Ah wince as he collapses, now a howlin’, twitchin’ gyser, while a green eyed woman wit’ spiky black hair swipes a metal bat at mah head. Ah crouch, th’ cold steel blastin’ th’ tip o’ mah hair sideways, then yank outta knife from mah waist holder. Spring upwards, fists clenched tight ‘round th’ knife handle, then jam it intah th’ woman’s throat. Warmness splatters ontah mah hands as mah wrists judder wit’ finality. Th’ woman stumbles backwards, hands claspin’ ‘round th’ handle. She takes in pained, wheezed breaths, eyes rollin’ intah th’ back o’ her head ‘fore Ah yank it out. Blood jets from her chin like an upside down volcano. She sways on th’ spot, then slithers tah th’ flo’, body shudderin’ wit’ wet coughs.
Ah’m tremblin’ all ova as Ah inch backwards. Shit, well… Oh! Th’ back o’ mah ankles fall from ‘neath me, makin’ me bust mah ass on th’ hard, now soakin' wet flo’. Unnerneath mah tattered blue jeaned thigh is th’ still whitherin’ blonde guy, shriekin’ in agony. Ah scrurry offa him wit’ a yelp, then, raisin’ mah axe up high, cleave it intah his forehead! He goes still as mah axe's wooden handle vibrates in mah grip. Hey, ‘least he’s no longah in pain. Plus, he finally shut up. Ah say we bot’ win this one.
Ah dislodge th’ axe from his handsome, split open face, thick red rope bindin’ th’ two togetha ‘fore Ah break ‘em ‘part. Mah stomach twists intah knots at th’ site, but, shit, well, least that’s ov—
Shoes skiddin’ ‘cross th’ flo? Ah burst intah a sprint, sparin’ a quick glance ova th’ shouldah. Three Chosen are on mah ass, one o’ ‘em dashin’ ahead o’ th’ rest wit a burst o’ speed. He clasps his hand ‘round mah backpack’s shoulder strap, yankin’ me backwards. Mah stomach falls as Ah take inna hissed breath ‘fore slammin’ th’ back o’ mah head intah th’ basserd’s nose! He sputters out, “Bitch!” but keeps his grip on th’ backpack tight. Tears pourin’ down mah eyes, Ah stomp on his foot ‘fore reachin’ mah arm back an’ swipin' thru th’ straps wit' mah axe. Th’ hateful stranger lurches backwards, still clutchin’ mah backpack as Ah’m freed from his grip, blastin’ forward like a deer ‘scapin’ fromma net.
Ah sprint intah th’ next corner, then take anotha corner at lightnin’ speed. Ah catch mahself ‘gainst th’ green dumpstah ‘fore Ah slam intah it. Aftah a quick dart o’ th’ head from side tah side, Ah creep th’ lid open an’ slither inside. Mah heels slip ‘gainst th’ slimy wet flo’, makin’ me bang th’ back o’ head ‘gainst th’ dumpster. A dull clang echoes throughout th’ hollow interior as Ah take inna sharp, pained breath.
Definitely th’ smartest thing Ah’ve eva done.
Th’ smell o’ death ova powers mah nostrils. Ah covah mah mouth jus’ ‘fore vomit bursts from it, th’ lumpy liquid oozin’ ‘tween mah fingers. Ah keep an iron grip onnit, tryin’ tah stay as quiet as possible as footsteps thud outside. A nail o’ pain stabs me in mah third eye as Ah choke on th’ vomit, cryin’ silently.
“Hey, you guys hear something?” A gruff voice asks.
“I don’t know, jackass.” A harsh, feminine voice spits. “I can’t believe you let her get away!”
“Don’t be so hard on Zack. He’s an old man, y’know?” A high pitched, bubbly voice giggles. Mah insides freeze. An eerie creak is heard ‘fore a thin strip o’ light pierces thru th’ darkness. Oh, God. A mangled Feral corpse lies ‘cross from me, it’s deep blue skin spotted wit’ red gashes all ova its body. White, squirmy maggots crawl ‘cross th’ things insides ‘fore th’ strip o’ light disappears as if it never where, trappin’ me back in th’ smelly darkness. Th’ lid whams shut as th’ bubbly voice goes, “Oh, jeez, pee-u!”
Th’ footsteps continue onwards, passin’ me up. “Relax, ladies,” th’ gruff voice, Zack, says, “We’ll find her.”
Ah wait in th’ rank darkness fer God knows how long, head poundin’ sumthin’ fierce. Shit. Shit! Ah punch in th’ air in silent fury, still chokin’ on th’ rank air. They took mah food. We’re fucked.
Once Ah can’t hear th’ footsteps no mo’, Ah carefully open th’ lid o’ th’ dumpster. Ah crawl outta th’ hell inna box, sobs stoppin’ me from ‘preciatin’ th’ relatively cleaner air. Oh mah God. Mah brother an’ me’re gonna die. Guess we finally ran outta miracles. Fer a second, Ah’m so overwhelmed wit’ sorrow that Ah get an image o’ me lyin’ on th’ cold flo’, paralyzed wit’ tears fer hours. Ah shake th’ vision off, a sob stuck in mah throat. No sense lyin’ ‘round cryin’ here. Might as well spend what lil’ time Ah got left wit’ mah brother. Stomach shudderin’ wit’ hunger, Ah inch forward, walkin’ intah tomorrow.
“Minerva? Wake up, please,” an angelic voice calls.
“Mmm?” I crack open an eyelid and roll over so that my back is facing my friend. “Sarah, it’s only…” I check my watch. “Eleven A.M. A lady needs her beauty sleep, yes?”
“Yes, well, it’s not like you need it.”
“That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Bombastic footsteps clap from somewhere behind me. “Don’t be like that. Come on, you’re already late for class. The teacher sent me to fetch you. Again.”
“Mmm…” I roll over to look at her, marveling at the golden waterfall tumbling down her shoulders. I grab ahold of a few strands and wrap my index finger around them, resisting the urge to glare at the wooden cross hanging from her neck. “The world has gone to hell outside, my dear. Who cares about education? I’d rather just lie here, make a warm cup of tea and do some reading. After I sleep a few more hours, of course,” I proudly admit with a warm, content sigh.
“We’re going to be down here for a long time. When the aliens die and we get out, society is going to need educated people to rebuild the Surface. Come on, Minerva, we’re the Chosen for Pete’s sake—it’s our job to be those workers! Why do I have to keep reminding you?”
“Well, to be honest…” I stretch myself out with a tight smile. A pleased squirm slips from my lips as I let go of my darling’s hair, letting my hand sink into the soft, forever cozy mattress. “I don’t neceassarily believe we’ll ever leave this place. The Feral outnumber us a hundred to one. We’ll never entirely defeat them, if you ask me.”
A storm awakens in Sarah’s azure eyes. “We will defeat the Feral. You of all people can’t have that kind of attitude. What if someone hears you? They’ll lose all hope of ever getting out of this place.” I have the decency to look guilty, and Sarah purses her soft lips. “Now get off your rump, you lazy bum.” She gives my shoulder a playful shove. I giggle and roll out of my fluffy sanctuary, dragging my silk covers over me along the way. “Minerva, we don’t have time for your silly little game.”
“Game? Whatever are you talking about?” I turn invisible, wrap the covers around myself, and then stand up. “This is no game. I’m a ghost. Owooooh!”
“Ghosts don’t wear tacky shades of blue.” Sarah says, shaking her head with a laugh. As we speak, I notice she is griping her left side with her right hand. My eyes narrow as she says, “They only wear white sheets. Besides, you didn’t even bother to poke holes in the sheets for the eyes.”
“I’m a ghost. I don’t need eyes.” I huff. “Besides, I’ll have you know that us only wearing white is quite an offensive stereotype, and I refuse to listen to you slander my sense of fashion any longer! Come at thee!” I tackle her to the floor, tickling her ribs.
“Minerva, stop it,” Sarah cries, though she too is pink with laughter. I don’t say anything, just tickle her harder. She giggles, until my hand grazes a tender spot on her left side. She gasps, lips puckering in pain.
I stand up quickly, turning visible again before throwing my blankets off to the side. “That imbecile hit you again, didn’t he? Only this time he tried to be subtle about it.”
Sarah looks down, ashamed. “How’d you know? You can’t read minds too, can you?”
“No, my dear, but while invisibility may be the only ability I have that is inherently super, it is not my only power by any means. Intuition, reading body language, and common sense are just as useful.” I grab ahold of her hand and gently pull her to her feet. “I am getting off the sidelines.”
“Minerva, you can’t solve all my problems.”
“Oh, but I can, my dear. Just watch me.”
“Wait!”
I turn invisible. “Oh, right, you can’t.” I giggle to myself as I close the door, but I don’t exit the room. A trick that’s worked dozens of times getting information from people, and a trick I expect to work now.
“She’s gone.” Sarah deflates like a balloon, dropping to her knees on the floor. “Oh, William, what are we going to do?” She looks down at her stomach and cradles it slowly, almost lovingly. Oh, my. Did he...is she…?
“How are we going to raise you in a cage?”
My insides are fried when I sneak over to my rest room. In my shocked daze, I toss on blue shorts and a white shirt without even ironing them. I fight the urge to jump in the shower, brush my teeth, do my hair, and floss among other things. For once, I have more important things to do first.
I throw open my cupboard and pick up my electronic shock bracelet. I admire the technology for a brief moment before shoving it into my pocket.
I head over to my closet, open it and greet my beautiful silver raiper, the one given to me by the Queen when I was knighted.
“Nice to see you again, Darling!” I grasp the soft blue hilt. The moment my hands make contact with the work of art, it turns invisible. I sheathe the blade and attach it to my waist belt.
I walk out of the bathroom to find Sarah still in the middle of the floor. Her face is streaked with shiny tears.
My friend is crying. I’m going to make that lowlife pay. I open the door and close it slowly behind me, careful not to make any noise. “Right then, time to chop off his balls.”
