Into Ashes: Act I

Day 2

Another terrible night of struggling for sleep. Like last night the coldness of the dark hours kept me tremoring in place, groveling for anything I could find to keep myself warm. I ended up trying to curl up with my backpack as something to help cover my body. But it failed, and so another almost sleepless night passes. Again.. With that strange dream as well. I had it again, only to awaken with little to no memory of it other than that far-off feeling I can’t quite understand, just as the time before. Strange.. The familiar feeling of a calling still rings inside my soul, but the feeling is too bleak to manifest a clear meaning.

The lack of adequate sleep over the passed few nights prompts me to sleep in a little longer. Afterall, sleep can be just as important as food or water in a survival situation. I’d probably die of exhaustion before I died of starvation out here, especially at this rate. And what harm could come of sleeping in a little late? I got plenty of time to get done what I need to do.

• - - -

Hours pass. I wake back up feeling a tad more renewed. My first urge is to check the time, but as my muscles awaken and I bring them to bare, a hefty burden of lethargy weighs me back down to lazy stillness. I feel the need to fall back asleep but, as comforting as that would be I unfortunately know I’ve already wasted enough time. I reach into my pocket for the watch. I feel around… Nothing, It’s not there. I check the other pocket… Also nothing. It probably fell out of my pocket in my sleep. Ugh, that means I actually have to get up and look for it.

I lay there for a little longer, eyes wavering, debating how much longer I want to enjoy just laying here. But at some point I let out a sigh and sit up, spilling the accumulated morning ash off my body. I guess waking up covered in ash is going to be a daily thing. I feel around the ground, digging under the ash in search of the watch and just as I had expected, I find it buried not far from where I languished. A quick check of the time. 3:40 pm. Still plenty of time left in the day for - 3:40?! Damn I really wasted a lot of time sleeping in! That’s a lot of time to make up now. At least the weather today seems much calmer than yesterday, with the haze having cleared up substantially for better than normal visibility.

I grab my z-rat from yesterday, throw it in my bag and scurry out the entrance, bag and rifle in hand. Once outside I hurriedly gait my way to where I left off on my map, back over near the library.

As I come to the library I feel somewhat compelled to search it again but I know there won’t be any point in doing that. So, back to searching houses I go.

• - - -

“Searching through these houses is just a waste of time.” I tell myself, the rushing sense of dwindling time still perforating through my body. And Indeed a waste of time it turns to be, as I find nothing in the houses around the library. No matter how deep the search or how long I spend digging through the wreckage, nothing of any sort of remark turns up. This area of town seems completely fruitless. After searching several houses, a check of the time is again in order. Already 4:30.

Somehow while digging through another house, I get an idea. I know that city centers were used as the main focal points for coordinating targetry for the laser arrays. So, it would make sense that maybe things further from the town square might be less embellished and I would have more luck searching there. I don't know if that will hold true, but maybe it’s worth a shot. At this point I don't have much concern for taking a risk like this because for now, the only thing I have to lose is time. And It seems like a good enough idea anyway.

I leap from the house currently under my search and head back the way I came. From the looks of my map, my house is roughly halfway between the town center and the outskirts, so for the sake of keeping close to home I’ll head back there and then continue out to the far reaches of town.

In short time I make it back to home and continue down the street into unexplored territory. I don't bother with rummaging through any of the houses I pass. To me, everything's a waste of time until I get outside of town. I crudely note the path I take down on my map, which ends up looking more like a child's drawing than an actual hand drawn piece of cartography. The path takes me down a single, widened street that branches off into several smaller trails and walkways. The actual size and complexity of the town surprises me the more I explore. I didn’t imagine it to be so sprawling. The curiosity to go down one of the numerous other side streets is strong, but I must stick to the main road and follow it to the end. I pass by several buildings, not paying attention to a single one. Further and further does the road take me and before long the density of houses begins to decline. The number of offshooting trails disappears as well, until finally the trail gives way to the sparsely populated outskirt region of town. At the end of the road, with only one or two houses to my flanks, I find a very peculiar shaped building. The building, somehow mostly intact but too burned to make out any fine details, was built circular compared to the cubicle design of the rest of the town. The roof, also mostly intact, has tipped inwards and collapsed down to the ground floor. While still only somewhat structurally intact, it seems the idea that these buildings on the periphery of town are to be less sullied has some fruit to it after all. Perhaps this building might even make a modest replacement for my hovel, which would be most alluring if it turns out to be sound on the inside as well. But there is only one way to find out.

I climb over the debris where the doorway used to be. Once above it and on the inside I am met with a sight most intriguing. Several half melted plastic Equine mannequins lay strewn about mixed in with the rubble, some of them still draped with charred, discolored fabrics. An amalgamation of assorted scissors, pins, needles, and rolls of twine and fabric litter the floor. All of this adds up to be some sort of sew shop, the workplace of the local seamstress who must have supplied the town with clothes and other garments. These fabrics must have been in short supply or very lavish in price however, I do not recall seeing very many clothed Equine. And of course, curiosity piqued, I must resume my digging now that I have finally found a place of mild interest.

In my own inquisitivity, somehow I end up digging through the trash to find out more about their culture more than I do what I original came for. I’m still so easily fascinated by these little bits of history I’m finding in my search. I yearn to learn more about them, if only there were more intact records of the bygone days to learn from. My hunger to learn more about these creatures grows more and more profound the more I dig through the sew shop... As does the hunger in my inner workings. Speaking of which, given that I haven't had much to eat lately it might be high time for a snack.

I take a moment to clear a place to sit down. My throat is dry from all the ash I’m forced to constantly filter through my airways. I open my pack, pull out the z-rat from yesterday and.. Hmm. Ah shit, I didn't pack any water! I must have been in such a hurry to get out the door I forgot to properly prepare for the day. This suddenly makes me realize that, coupled with the fact that it’s already 6:00 pm that I should wrap up my search and head back home for the night. I can always enjoy my dinner break when I get back home anyway. Yeah, I guess It’s time to head back.

Before leaving I stuff a few tattered sheets of fabric in my pack. These will come in handy as blankets, and although I still have yet to gather a sufficient amount of wood for a fire, this might at least help a little with keeping myself warm through the night. Damn, if it wasn’t for this fabric today would have been completely fruitless.

I gather my things and climb back over the same pile of rubble I used to get in. though I am disappointed at the lack of progress made today I can at least confide in knowing that the outskirts of this town might just prove to be a very excellent source of survival equipment. As I come back down to the outside ground I look out to the hills. Far off in the distance, much further from the town in comparison to other buildings, I see a structure perched on top of a moderate hill. From here I can’t see much detail, but what I can see is a large square wall. Perhaps over there is another building, and given its apparent size from this distance, it looks very well preserved. I check the time.. 6:05… Sundown is in just an hour an a half. I probably don’t have time to make it there and back before then. It would probably be smarter just to head back home. I can always come back to it tomorrow when I have more time. THEN AGAIN… Today has been rather unproductive hasn’t it? Hmm.. I stare at the watch. Tick, tick, tick, tick, 6:06, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick….. With each passing tick, my stance on whether to go to the building waivers back and forth. For and Against, To go there or to go home. Tick, tick, tick, tick, 6:07…. It would be risky, and I can always go back on the next coming day. Oh but how my curious nature loves to get the better of me. But who knows exactly when the drones begin their prowl. It could be after sundown, but it could just as well be as the sun is setting.. The longer I take to make this choice the more time I lose… You know what, forget it. It’s too risky given how much time I have left. I’ll just head home now and come back when I get another chance. Better to give myself more time to search through it anyway.

On second thought…

Against my better judgment I decide to go investigate the lone structure anyway. It shouldn’t take too long to get there. So long as I move quickly and stay focused I should make it there and back with time to spare. Looks to be about 15 minutes to walk there, then I’ll search for 10 minutes tops and then 15-20 minutes to get back. That should get me home before 7:00. I’m there, I’m in, I’m out, I’m home. That quick.

I begin the walk, sights set on the bleak structure silhouetted on the horizon. At the pace I’m going I don't bother to map out my path as I go. There’s nothing this far out of town to draw on a map anyway. The building up ahead appears to be the farthest building from the town. The barren, monochromatic landscape does not lend well to landmark references, so every so often I look back behind me to get eyes on the sew shop for reference. I continue my brisk pace up the hill, all the way up, never slowing down, but constantly looking back to the shop and checking my watch. I reach the summit at 6:20.

The same logic I used earlier about building damage seems to hold true even out here, as this building looks to be in even better condition than the sew shop. The building is large and rectangular with a slanted roof. It’s so well conditioned that even the front door is intact. The only real damage I can see is the steeple, or what's left of it, has fallen from its roost and has been thrown far from the foundation, now laying half buried in the ground before me. A large metal bell is buried alongside it. I approach, and upon closer examination I notice the walls riddled with small bullet holes. They can be found on all sides of the building, mostly gathered in a dense band about waist high. The infantry must have hit this place, and from the looks of it they hit it pretty hard. There must have been Equines still inside when the invasion hit, and from the looks of things, they made a stand here. Unfortunately, I doubt anyone inside at the time would have survived the onslaught. Hundreds of bullet holes can be found in each wall.

I walk up to the front door and press in on it. It crackles but doesn’t budge. I fiddle with the doorknob and press against the door with my shoulder, but still it refuses to open. Perhaps a solid kick is in due favor to open it. The door is locked, and my boot is the key. I wind up for a mighty thrust and power into the door with all my strength. My foot easily smashes through the wood unopposed. The front face of the door cracks, splintering in all directions from the point of impact. But it is a stubborn door, still just as locked as it was five seconds ago only now my foot is caught on the other side. I try to jostle it back out, hopping around and doing every sort of kicking maneuver I can manage while standing on one leg to free my other leg from its sharp, pointed grasp. One kick too hard, and my balance fails me. I fall and land flat on my back. Only after I come crashing down does my foot free itself from the clutches of the stubborn door… How typical.. Good thing there's no one around to see this.

You know what, forget the door. I try to show the building a little respect by entering through the designated passageway and I end up on my ass. Again, I find myself in a position where I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting.

There must be another way in. And after a quick look around of the building, indeed there is. The entire side wall that faces away from town has collapsed, spilling down into a nice ramp one can walk over to get inside. I climb it, and make my way over and inside the building.

The moment my feet hit the rickety wooden floor my nose comes ablaze with a horrific odor. Putrid, foul, something in here is rotting away and not being peaceable about it. The smell is so nauseatingly malodorous I’m forced to cover my nose and mouth, but still even the taste of the odor permeates through into my mouth.

After looking at the contents of the room, the scatter of paraphernalia makes it more than apparent as to the purpose of this building. Several broken child-sized desks lay thrown about, many of them stacked up against the front door. That explains a lot. A blackboard, broken in half lays toppled over at the front of the room. An assortment of pencils and burned notebooks and small backpacks can be found scattered about the floor. This used to be a schoolhouse, and from the looks of it, class was still in session when the invasion arrived. I guess the town hadn’t received warning of its arrival until it was already upon them.

As ghastly the idea that this room was full of children at the time is, I try to ignore it and put it passed me. For along with the education related materials I find, I also discover that much of the floorboards are made of healthy, perfectly burnable firewood. The excitement of this discovery sends me into a mad dash to clear the floor and gather up as much of the wood as I can. I start throwing desks and stools around to make way. I uproot several desks, haphazardly tossing them every which way until I lift one too many and happen upon a grizzly site. I find the source of the horrendous odor. A young Equine’s charred corpse lies underneath a broken desk. It’s whole body crusted over from severe burns. But in my frenzy I’m able to look passed it at the floor. Beneath the corpse, a crack in the floor, a good place to start dismantling the establishment board by board. But in order to get my hands to the crack I have to move the body. I pick up the desk that lay on it, but stop the moment I lift it. The body’s blackened, blistered skin sticks to the bottom of the desk, peeling off from the body like an overcooked marshmallow. Melted on the inside but overcooked and crusty on the outside. Gooey red strands of coagulated blood latch onto the inside of the skin, stretching out as the skin is pulled off the corpse. I let out a groan of disgust. The gruesome spectacle of peeling skin from a fresh body prompts me to drop the desk and just leave the corpse where it lie. I shudder in repulsion at what I just did as I walk away and search for another place to begin tearing up the floorboards. It fortunately doesn't take me long to find another hole in the floor, the whole place is full of holes.

Now gleefully distracted by all the sweet sweet firewood I’ve happened upon I forget about the body and the smell and start ripping up as many floorboards as I can and shove them in my bag. They do not come up easily. They are nailed down to the floor tightly, and often break in half as I use my strength to bruteforce them from the foundation. I’m only able to fit five or six large boards in my bag, plus an entourage of splinters. The fabric I collected takes up most of the room. Hopefully this is enough for one full night of glowing warmth though.

More than elated about the prospect of a full night of rest, wrapped up in sheets and embraced by a warm fire, I forget all about the time. But after I pack my bag full of as much wood as I can fit into every nook and cranny, remembering about my time constraint hits me like a wall. In a mild panic I check the time. 6:57.

I’ve already more than overstayed my welcome, I have to hurry home quick! Sundown is in just half an hour!

I leap over the downed wall and sprint back down the hill. The sun is already caressed by the hillsides, almost halfway obscured behind their veil. The weight of my pack doesn't slow me down one bit despite the unwieldy and unbalanced cargo. It jostles up and down on my back as I hastily canter down the side of the steep hill. I keep my eyes glued on what I think is the sew shop up ahead. A healthy supply of adrenaline courses its way through my muscles and keeps me focused on the task at hand.

I make it to the sew shop. I’ve lost a little breath, but I check the watch and decide there to be just enough time to slow down to an amble and be able to make it back on time. Phew, what a jog. I haven’t done any sort of physical conditioning in quite some time. That quick little jaunt almost hurt. The time is 7:04, a little under half an hour till the sun is fully beyond the scope of the land. That should still give me plenty of time to just mosey my way on back. I shouldn’t be expending so much energy anyway. I slow down to a casual pace and follow the main road back to my home.

What another lucky find. That much firewood all gathered in one place? What are the odds. I think it’s safe to say that firewood can be crossed off my list. That much wood will keep me supplied for a very, very long time.

I follow the long road all the way back. My home is now just in sight, not more than ten heaps of rubble away. And good timing too, the orange sun has set, just barely peeking over the clandestine hills that eclipse its rays. I can’t wait to get home and heat up my spaghetti and enjoy some nice, hot chow. I gotta say it, that risk I took really paid off big time. Finally, after all that searching I finally found something that will help me. I can’t wait to try ---.

A very sudden and vehement snap breaks all silence around me. The snap is soon followed by a series of small crackles and moans and groans of wood. I stop dead in the middle of the road. Not far ahead of me, a still standing house begins to stagger, off balance, waving back and forth before completely collapsing and spilling over into the street in a huge cloud of ash. A structure that size, with that much support still holding it up for that long surely would not have collapsed on its own. It couldn’t have been from me, that’s clearly one of the houses I have yet to check. Something else must have disturbed it. It couldn't have been the wind, this breeze is too gentle to even move something as light as parchment. The only thing strong enough to have toppled over something that big is…. Oh no... Drones.

I dive into a nearby crater and bring my rifle to bear on the house. The adrenaline that had already wound down kicks back into gear. There’s no way a JN87 could have done that. My heart sinks knowing that it could only have been the work of a JN88. They’ve finally found me. One must have been tracking me down this whole time, this is right by my house! I peer through my rifle scope and switch the visual setting to Thermal. I train my rifle to the base of where the building once stood. My thermal optics more than easily bore right through the thick cloud, almost as if it wasn’t there.

The cloud from the building's wake ascends into the sky, consuming the entire street around it. The only way to see passed the heavy veil is through my optics, which have yet to pick up any sign of a thermal signature. The drone must know it made a very detectable noise, and is now hiding amongst the ruins until it calculates it to be safe to come out. Crafty bastard… But that’s okay, so long as I have my rifle trained on the house I can get the jump on ‘im. The moment he pops his stupid little head out of the rubble for a scan, I’ll blast that son of a bitch with a full-power shot.

I press a button to get a range from the laser range finder built into the scope. 73 meters. I’m outside the range of its onboard radar, but only just. I wait.. And wait.. The sun is well passed the precipice and the shroud of night gradually sets. But I must remain vigilant. Any moment now I know that little bastard is going to pop its head out for a scan. I know how these things think.. Part of my survival training included and in depth course on how to deal with both types of drones. The problem with fighting these drones is, you have to have the jump on them long before they can get the jump on you if you want to have a chance. But I know exactly what this drone is doing, it can’t fool me. Aaaany minute now. I just have to wait.

A bead of sweat dribbles down my forehead and onto my nose, where it hangs just at the edge. I ignoring it, keeping my rifle dead set on the house. The mood is tense, as the drone and I are locked into an unnerving game of waiting.. Waiting to see which of us is foolish enough to make a wrong move. A real Who Sees Who First Wins scenario. I remain just as motionless as the drone. Not a sound can be heard…

Much time passes. It’s just beginning to get dark, and still no sign of the drone. I know he’s in there…. But what if he hasn’t come out yet because he knows I'm here.. Shit that means it’s probably signalling for assistance.

…. Shit.. Shit..

Fuck what am I going to do. If I move I might miss my chance but if I stay too long backup might arrive. I can't just sit here, one of us has to make a move. Fuck, oh fuck I am ready to just pull the trigger.

Slowly does the shroud of night increase its shadowy grasp on the landscape. The high-strung intensity of the stand off has me anxiously fidgeting in place, unsure of what my next move should be. One of us has to make a move now, and it looks like it's going to have to be me. I decide to slowly stand up, keeping my rifle dead set on the rubble. Cautiously, bit by bit, step by step, I begin my approach. I keep my finger on the trigger, ready to blast anything the moment it moves. I meticulously skim over the entire pile, scanning back and forth for any sign of something out of place. But despite having moved much closer, my thermals have yet to pick up anything. It can’t see through the debris. It might be using its own camouflaging to hide from me. I stop in the road and switch my scope back to Color. I carefully scan the debris for anything unnatural, anything that looks even a touch off from what I know too well to be in these houses. Slowly, silently, I creep forward to the pile. C-c-c-cruuunch.. I do my best to silence my footsteps, but in this deathly silent world they are the only thing to make any sort of sound. C-c-c-cruuunch……. C-c-c-cruuunch…….. C-c-c-cruuunch…….

After what feels like an eternity I finally reach the pile. It’s just in front of me. I try to suppress the beat of my own heart, but no matter how I try to calm myself it beats like a drum inside my chest, pounding, with a deep rhythm I can almost hear. Bu-bum, bu-bum, bu-bum.. I scan the entire ground around the house, switching between Thermal and Clear periodically. I’m even so bold as to nudge the rubble with my foot. My heartbeat escalates. Bu-bum bu-bum bu-bum.. Oh how’d I love to just fire round after round into this, but I know I can’t be so careless with my precious stock of ammunition.

I start gently poking at the debris with the end of my rifle, ready to jump back at any moment should the slightest movement provoke me. My finger tenses around the trigger, but applies no pressure as I do not want to accidentally let loose a round.

I continue to poke different spots, moving small pieces of wood and uncovering small portions of the rubble underneath. But… There’s nothing. No sign of any sort of metal or artificially mimicked textures. Perhaps.. Perhaps my paranoia is simply getting the best of me. There just doesn't appear to be anything here. Maybe it did just collapse on its own, giving way under its own instability.

I let out a prolonged sigh and begrudgingly lower my rifle.

I feel the urge to scan the surrounding area but.. I know that if anything tried to escape I would have seen it. I would have seen whatever it was scurry off in any direction. Sigh.. Perhaps it really was just the building collapsing under its own weight. Oh shit, what the hell am I still doing out here then? There may not be a drone here but the threat of one being in the area is still very real. I need to get home.

I hop off the pile, still wary for.. Something to happen. And just as I start to walk away from the pile a hint of color in the debris catches the corner of my eye. I raise my rifle back up, and again flows in the adrenaline. BU-bum BU-bum BU-bum... I stare down where I saw the color. Through my Clear optics, buried in the rubble I spot a blot of pale yellow. But.. No part of a drone could be this color. Unless…

I set down my rifle and begin throwing the debris from the pile. Did I just find what I think I found? I keep digging. Soon more color emerges. More yellow, and now strands of pink. Did I..? I think I did.. I think I just found one!

I hurriedly clear the debris, pumped up by knowing what I just found and knowing what time it is. Beneath the rubble, after much digging and tossing I uncover it. Fur of creamy yellow.. Main of carnation pink.. An icon of three butterflies on it’s thigh.. From it’s dainty physique and rounded snout, female. I’ve found a survivor..

Oh this changes everything!

I press two fingers against the inside of her neck. Yes.. Yes there is a pulse. She’s still alive! A little battered up but hey, there’s a pulse!

Now comes the point at where I must make a life altering decision. Do I just leave her here? Leave her to the drones for them to pick clean? Or… Should I take her in…

It’s a difficult decision. I carefully weigh the pros and cons of each side. On one hand, If I take her in that’s just another mouth to feed. On the other hand, I could tend to her wounds, patch her up and maybe gain her trust and have a companion...

I think over the options carefully, the pressure of getting back into the safety of my hovel still pressing down on my already weighted decision.

I…

I.. Hmm.

I can’t leave her. If I leave her here, a drone with find her and might soon discover my encampment. And I can’t just pick her up just to dump her somewhere else. It’s already late enough as it is and that most likely won’t sit well with me afterwards. I.. I have to take her in.

I dig her from the rubble and gently pull her out. I don’t know how injured she is, so I make sure to move her with extreme caution and support as much of her weight as uniformly as I can.. She’s small, only about half my size but that’s average for a female Equine. Lightweight too, I have no trouble lifting and moving her.

After getting her on my back I grab my rifle and quickly amble down the road to my house.

Damn my morality..

Once inside, finally back inside the safety of my hovel, I gently lay her down on the floor, far from where I usually sleep for she could wake up at any moment. She won’t be out forever. Despite having an entire building collapse on her she seems to be in relatively good condition. But for now she’ll rest. Who knows how long it’ll before before she wakes up. It could take minutes.. Hours…. Days…… Shoot I hope it doesn’t take days, I don't think I can contain my excitement for this situation that long. I--.

I clear my throat and settle down. I still have my own self to take care of. Right now, and until she wakes up, it’s back to business.

I should get a fire going.