Intertwined

There was a long silence as Lori prepared their food rations for that night. There was few left, one of the reasons Lori had for making the best in the first place.

Lonmar waited in the library until Lori called him. He read no books, just sat thinking of what was to happen. In the Kitchen, Lori used two packets of dry meat, dated from long ago but still fine, and stirred it into a large pot, adding water and different faded unknown packages to add flavour. Lori was not the best of cooks, but considering she only had a limited amount of packages from some unknown place and the meat from the few strange creatures that she found, she did well. Better than Lonmar at least.

After a few moments, and Lori using The Program to make sure there was no toxins in the food. She had once forgotten to do so, and then spent weeks sick in bed, unable to keep anything down and taking fits. Thinking of this, Lori remembered how Lonmar had stayed by her side, dampening her forehead and forcing water down her throat no matter how much she begged to be left to die.

Shaking her head, Lori tapped a few buttons on the panel of The Program’s kitchen unit. A soft mist was sprayed over the soup, and then it was ready. Lori called for Lonmar, and he came reluctantly, shuffling into the Kitchen, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

The conversation between the two companions was non-existent as they ate the small amount of food they called their dinner. Lonmar occasionally glanced to Lori, but she kept her head down. Part of her almost wished she had been beaten in the sparring room. She had felt a surge of power when fighting, and the last blow had been a harder impact than she thought.

Lonmar finished before her, as usual. He watched her take small mouthfuls, grimacing occasionally came across a strange crunchy substance that Lonmar had hoped wasn’t bones.

“Lori…” He said in a quiet tone, causing her to literally flinch, as if she were afraid of him. She finished her soup and carried both bowls to the sink. A touch of a button on The Program and a blast of cold, dirty water splashed over the sink. It struck Lori how dependent they were on it. “We need to talk.” Lonmar stood up.

Lori turned to him, one eyebrow raised. She knew exactly what he was going to say and she could feel her anger sparking, knowing fine well how angry she could get when she didn’t quench it. She said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

“We can’t go out there.”

“Why not?”

“It’s dangerous! We could die!”

“We’re going to die down here!”

“Rather here than there!”

Their comments and shouts were fast and angry. They glared at each other, both with clenched fists and their muscles on edge.

“You promised Mar…” Lori looked away, a hint of hurt tingeing her voice, quieter now as she realised that this was their first serious argument. They’d quarrelled before- over who would cook, who’d fix the dripping pipe, who’d get the best rations- but never like this.

Lonmar shook his head and began to walk away. He wasn’t going to say anything, he knew that staying in the Sanctuary was best, and as much as he hated to upset Lori, he was not going to change his mind. His boots made slight echoing noises as he walked the main hall, meaning to go to the training room and take out his frustration on some bags.

But then a harsh screeching noise of grinding metal filled the Sanctuary.

Lonmar turned on his heel, sprinting the short distance he’d covered in seconds. But he was already too late. The huge grate was pulled from the wall, showing a dazzling night sky, stars shining like crystal and the moon, no longer red, lighting up the hall.

He skidded to a stop, almost falling to his knees, then he saw Lori. He almost missed her, he was distracted by her surroundings.

The ground was dark, a mesh of rubble and dirt and metal. Rock formations that must have once been civilization stood around them, fallen apart and destroyed. No life was visible, and a chilling breeze blew dust into Lonmar’s eyes.

He blinked twice, then shook himself. Dragging himself up the rusted metal ladder, he called out his companions name. She stood stock still, a few metres away from the hole-in-the-ground that led to their home. The breeze made her shiver in her thin fabric shorts and tank top.

Lonmar hauled himself out the Sanctuary and the ground felt rough to his palms. A piece of glass lodged into his palm, and a bead of blood rolled down to his wrist. A spurt of anger lodged itself in his gut, and he strode forward, grabbing Lori’s arm. He left a stain of blood on her shoulder, which neither of them noticed.

“Are you insane?” He yelled at the top of his voice, but the wind whipped it away and it sounded faded and distant. Lori turned and looked to him, and he was shocked to see the tears in her eyes.

“I’ve seen this place.” She whispered, and no wind snatched her words, they etched themselves on Lonmar’s mind forever. He knew she spoke of her dreams.

“Come on Lori.” He said urgently, tightening his grip on her and pulling her back. He half-turned and his companion mirrored his moves.

Then they both stopped, the blood rushing from their bodies and the breath being sucked from their soul. The grate was closed.

They were locked out.