The Second Wave

Ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-kack. The sound of guns firing filled my head so much that I couldn't even concentrate. I was in a sort of daze. Everything around me moved in slow motion. Can't move. Can't breathe. "Lieutenant! Move dammit!" Someone shouted, pulling me out of my daze. With a slight jump, my eyes went into focus and, as if for the first time, I saw my surroundings.
Smoke was everywhere, out of the piles of ruined buildings. Fallen machines sent sparks flying into the sky, while dead human bodies smoked and bled, a disgusting sight that made me want to run away and scream.
I quickly ducked behind a pile of rubbish, my men gathering around me, eagerly waiting to hear what our next move was. “Okay guys," I said. "As you know, the rest of the Company is dead. But the important thing is that we are still alive. We can still get out of this. We'll keep heading towards the main objective. They know there are fewer of us so I doubt they'll expect an attack from us. These things may be smart but not as smart as us," I gave a short laugh," we did make them in the first place after all. Hooah?"
"Hooah!" They shouted back, their faces lighting up with renewed hope, then twisting into terrible pain. One by one their faces contorted into those of extreme agony. Some of them fell to the ground while others were glued to the spot, their bodies convulsing and twisting into forms no human body should. I tried to move forward to help them but I couldn't move, my legs held down by some unknown force. I looked down to see them being grasped by hands of metal, the sharp edges digging through my clothes and into my skin. I cried out in fright, blood seeping through my pants and onto the ground.
I looked back at the soldiers, only to see that they were no longer there, replaced by a large pile of scrap metal, blood seeping through the cracks where the pieces overlaid one another. Desperately, I tried to free myself, but to no avail, each time I tugged I was only dragged down further into the earth. Eventually, I was pulled completely under, and I was free falling through space, the blackness consuming me as I spiraled down, down, down. As I plunged, I was aware of this red glow, slowly growing stronger and stronger. I looked downward and that's when I saw them: a pair of red eyes, slowly growing nearer. A loud screech of metal, like a train suddenly stopping, filled my ears as a gaping mouth opened and swallowed me whole.
I woke up with a start, my heart threatening to pound out of my chest and onto the floor. A cold sweat ran down my back as I remembered the dream. They were starting to get more frequent now as the days passed. It's this cage. I thought, It’s this place... It's a terrible feeling, slowly going insane. Like falling down a hole covered with roots yet you somehow can't seem to grab them. Like when Alice fell down the rabbit hole only to find herself in some strange place she never knew existed. That's what it feels like.
I got up off my "bed" that's really hay with a blanket on top and began to pace my cell. It's about six by six feet and has stone walls. Just like the rest of Rune Hall. Practically a dungeon. The only exit is a door with metal bars, my only view being the inmate across the hall.
"What's the matter lass?" Scottie (the guy across the hall) asked in a thick Scottish accent. "Can't cha sleep no more?"
I knew he didn't really give a crap about how I was. He lives for driving me crazy. "Ya know Scottie, if it wasn't for these damn bars, you'd be dead already."
Scottie cackled, "Yer petty threats mean not'in' ta me."
"Oh give it a rest you two!" The woman next door to me hollered. "I'm sick and tired of always hearing you two bickering!"
"Yeah! Ya want to get us in trouble?" Another inmate called from further down the hall.
"Oh no," Scottie chimed, "T'ey'd never get mad at Crazy over t'ere."
"That's Lieutenant Crazy to you, Scottie," I corrected, a whisper of a smile parting my lips. "Oh shut up Jäger," he said walking up to his bars to stare at me, "you're probably one o' t'e craziest ones t'ey got in here."
I sauntered up to my door and leaned lazily against it, inspecting my fingernails as I said, quite matter-of-factly, "I may be crazy, but at least I'm not a total dick-head like you."
That did it.
Scottie grabbed his bars and give them a violent shake, the sound reverberating throughout the hallway. "Shut up!" he shrieked. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Dear God just shut up!"
"Who'd you say was the crazy one?" I muttered.
In a matter of moments a guard came running up the hall, unlocked Scottie's cage and whisked him off to God knows where, Scottie's shouts echoing off the stones. Once again, silence was restored to Rune Hall, Castle of the Mad and Home of the Forgotten. I slid down on my back to the floor, my head resting on the cold wall as I let my thoughts wander down the halls and out to freedom.
"You're welcome," I said aloud to no one in particular. It's not like anyone was listening.
My name is Jäger Reis, and this is my story.

==-=

"Hey Abbs?" I called from the bed of the abandoned truck, "Where'd you put the matches?"
"They're in the, the, the oh! They're in the green duffel bag." My twin sister hollered back. I hopped out of the truck and meandered over to the duffle bag in question, which was resting comfortably against our shared tent. I riffled through its contents until my hand grasped the small box. I pushed my sun glasses up the bridge of my nose, the bright noon sun glaring down onto the hot blacktop. I then went over to the pile of wood that was to become our fire, a small pile of rabbits that Abby had skinned sitting on a plastic bag next to it. I crouched down and pulled out one of the tiny matches, its corners bumping against my fingertips as I rolled it between my thumb and index finger. With one swift motion, I struck the match against the rough side of the box. Nothing. Once more I tried. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing.
In an act of frustration, I slammed the box to the ground, "Dammit all!" I said to the sky, abruptly sitting down once my little fit was over. Things just never seemed to go our way. There was always something that didn't work or just happened the wrong way and always made our lives that much harder. I just want something to go well for once, I thought.
I felt a gentle hand rest on my shoulder. Abby. She reached down and picked up the fallen box of matches. She then selected a new one and pulled it out, a calm expression on her face as she knelt down and swiped it against the pavement. Immediately, the end burst into a small flame. "Just be patient," she told me, as she tossed it onto the wood. It was a start.
A half hour later, the fire was in full blaze, the heat mixing with the afternoon heat into something unbearable. I'd taken off my shirt and changed into shorts, my only defense in battling the inferno. Normally, Abby wouldn't mind being in the heat, simply commenting that "we might as well enjoy it before winter sets in", but even she had changed into a sports bra and running shorts.
I pulled my now cooked lunch away from the fire, the meat popping and squealing slightly after being cooked for about fifteen minutes. Eager to eat, I sank my teeth into the carcass, the meat burning my mouth and hot juice running down my chin. "So. Good." I mumbled through a mouthful of delicious glory.
Abby nodded her head eagerly, "Mhmm," was her only reply.
As I ate, I looked at our surroundings. There really wasn't all that much to look at. We were living on the outskirts of a small neighborhood, most of the houses either gone or in ruins. Since we didn't like the idea of a building collapsing on us in our sleep, we had a large tent situated in the middle of the road, abandoned cars circling us on practically all sides. This was particularly nice, seeing as they helped to block out the brunt force of the wind, which could get pretty bad depending on the weather.
I guess that's another thing that hasn't totally been to our disadvantage.
Suddenly, Abby leapt to her feet, "Did you hear that?!" She exclaimed, a distant look on her face.
"Hear what?" I inquired, confused as to what she could possibly be talking about.
She waved her hand dismissively, "Shhhhhh!" she exclaimed, her head cocking slightly to the side.
I stood, throwing my hands up confusion. Buts still I listened. Sure enough, I soon began to hear a distant "fwump fwump fwump fwump fwump."
"What the heck is that?" I said, taking a small step forward.
"I dunno..." Abby said half to herself. She slowly began to walk forward, climbing over one of the cars and onto the other side.
"Abby!" I called, "Abby wait!" I hurried after her, the sound growing increasingly louder. By now Abby had reached the side of a half fallen house, already trying to climb on top of its roof. After I helped push her up first, I hoisted myself up beside her. We stood there for a few moments on top of that house, watching the horizon for something to appear. I squinted and looked left and right.
That's when I spotted it.
"Over there!" I shouted, pointing at a strange, flying object.
Abby shaded her eyes with her hand, "What... What is that?"
"I dunno. It's too far..." I replied. We waited for another few minutes, watching as it slowly grew bigger and bigger. Once it got close enough, we were finally able to see what it was.
"Is that a helicopter?" Abby shouted, the noise had gotten to the point that we had to yell over each other just to be heard.
"It looks like it!" I hollered back.
"But that doesn't make any sense!" She replied, "I thought those things haven't been used since the War!"
"I know!" I said aloud. Then I repeated it to myself. This just didn't add up.
The helicopter whizzed overhead, a huge gust of wind flying from its propellers that threatened to throw us off the roof. As quick as it had appeared, it vanished. Leaving nothing but the still silence all around us. And a million question to be answered. Why would there be a helicopter? The War's been over for nearly two years now. No machines of that size or power had even been touched since then. I stood there in befuddlement, these very thoughts haunting my mind as I pondered over the strange occurrence we had just witnessed.
My name is Elijah Carter, and this is my story.

==-=

I stared up at the ceiling, my dying flashlight making a pale circle on the gray surface. The light kept flickering on and off, a sign I'd need to find some more batteries soon. With an agitated flick, I turned it off and abruptly sat upright, my oversized t-shirt falling off one of my shoulders to reveal my bra strap. The moon was bright, its light shining through a hole in the roof of the abandoned building I was sleeping in. I just couldn't rest tonight. Whether it was the temperature or some stray rock poking into my back, I was unsure, so I decided I'd just get up now.
I'd put my pistol next to what had been my bed for the night, and I now picked it up off the floor and into the back of my jeans. I held my flashlight firmly in my hand as I walked towards the steps, the moon guiding me over fallen tables and other assorted items. I was a nomad. An orphaned seventeen year old girl wandering aimlessly across the earth with only one objective on her mind. I didn't know where I was going or what awaited me once I was there, yet I still went. Besides, I'd had way too many past experiences to teach me that solitary was safe. Sometimes it did get quite lonely, being the only one around, but I've gotten used to by now, I guess.
I slowly opened the heavy metal door to the outside world, its hinges creaking loudly in protest as it swung open. Once opened, I stepped outside into the wild, the shaggy grass reaching halfway up my shins. Without even bothering to close the door behind me, I automatically turned left, away from where I'd come and towards where I was going. My mission was a simple one: to exact revenge on the woman who'd killed my parents. I wanted her to feel the same pain I felt as their lives were ripped away from mine. I still remember watching the whole thing unfold, I was only fourteen at the time. She'd claimed that my parents were traitors. People conspiring against the human race with the enemy in order to ensure their own survival. Which of course was absurd. They were very active people in the Revolution and would rather die than hand themselves and their very race over to the enemy.
The only details I knew about her were scarce, but I was sure they would help me to pinpoint her location. She had bright red hair and a tattoo of a dream catcher with the words "Live today as if you're dead tomorrow" on her right shoulder. Thank God for tank tops. Also, I remember that she was an officer in the army. I've heard rumors that she was good at what she did, very good. In fact, so good that they called her "hunter." But that still doesn't justify what she did... She still had to die.
And so I set out once more into the night.
Nomad.
Shadow.
Loner.
And revenge seeker.
Everything in my body pushing towards that one goal. That one thing that would make every wrong, right.
My name is Tracie Walker, and this is my story.

==-=

Even though it had been several minutes since the disappearance of the helicopter, Elijah was still perched atop the house, a far off look on his face. I was unsure why the phenomenon had intrigued him so much, but I thought that it would be best if he just forgot about it and moved on. We didn't have time to sit around looking for helicopters. We had to do what was important. We had to survive. I stood up and picked up my bow and quiver; if Elijah wouldn't take care of us, then I would.
I exited our small ring of vehicles and into the small field at the edge of the woods. The cool shade of the trees was a nice welcome after the heat of the day. I immediately began to look for signs of wildlife, my trained eyes immediately picking out a trail to follow. The trail I chose was fairly fresh, only a few hours old at best. If I was lucky, the deer would still be close by.
With my eyes fixed on the ground, I carefully picked my way forward, the deer's small footprints proving to be the perfect trail. I followed it for several minutes, chasing it around logs and through streams. But it was when I arrived at the base of a giant tree that I noticed that something had changed in the tracks; this animal was injured. I looked at the bark of the tree and there I saw a reddish brown liquid. Blood. I touched it with my fingertips and, to my surprise, it was still wet. This had happened recently.
By what the poor animal had been injured, I could only guess, but I was still determined to find it, maybe there was still some salvageable meat from the carcass. The tracks were more obvious now, less careful and more frantic. All along the sides of the path, plants were bent and crushed, signs that there had been a struggle as it had tried to escape.
I must've unknowingly neared a small embankment, because I was suddenly tumbling down, my bow ripped from my grasp as I descended. I landed on my back, the air rushing out of my lungs. I gasped, my tailbone stinging from landing on a bed of rocks. I sat up and looked around uselessly for my lost bow and arrows, for all of them had slipped out. I was on the bank of a creek, stones covering both sides. Standing up, I then saw something that made me gag.
It was an absolute bloodbath.
The creek ran a pale red, the side farthest from me a strange crimson mosaic. As I inched closer, I saw that it had been indeed my deer and that had been killed, its body ripped to shreds and scattered everywhere. I was baffled and horrified at the same time. No animal in these woods could do something like that. Not even a mountain lion.
What happened here? I thought, wanting to get closer to investigate, but afraid that the scene would make me hurl.
Just as I'd mustered up enough courage to take a look, a huge flock of birds rose from the trees, their frightened calls echoing throughout the forest. And then, the trees began to sway and bend, a crashing sound drowning out the birds.
Something was headed this way.
And it was big.
My name is Abby Carter, and this is my story.

==-=

I dashed across the street, the whoops and hollers of my pursuers echoing off the walls of the alley behind me. I pushed forward, hoping with all my might that they wouldn't catch me.
"You can't win this, Hollens!" one of the boys shouted.
I'll bet you I can, I thought as I jumped over a fallen garbage can. I was so close to base. So close that I could taste it. I felt invincible. Besides, they'd already used up all their paintballs. In my right hand I clutched a red piece of cloth, the reason for their chasing me. Capture the flag is a very serious game here in the city. Not only is it fun, but it serves as a sort of training for the real world.
I turned left into another alley, the home stretch. In fact, I could already see it, some of my teammates turning their heads when they heard me coming. They started cheering as I got closer and I felt a grin pop onto my face. Only about fifty more feet to go. Alleys really are a dangerous place. A place to be trapped and cornered. The perfect place to get ambushed. And a huge tripping hazard.
I sailed through the air and then landed with a hard thud, a gasp from one of the girls even audible from this distance. I pushed myself off the ground and shook my head, my elbow stinging from its impact on the ground. Before I could even reach for my gun, the other team was upon me, my body pelted with splatters of red paint. I guess they didn't use up all their paintballs after all. Once they relented, I looked over at my team, but it was already too late. They were coated in red too.
The red team howled in victory, our blue flag held up high by their captain. Bedraggled and disappointed, the blue team walked down the alley, the smiles from their faces gone.
"Nice goin' Beckett," someone sneered.
"Yeah, you clumsy oaf," another person added.
Even Jack, my best friend said, “We’ll be the laughingstock of the town for a week..." Hurt by the insults, I shouldered my way past them, making sure to shove them hard enough to show my discontent. As soon as I was out of their hateful watch, I ran home as fast as I could.
I ran up the stairs to my room two at a time, making the trip to the third floor of the school building seem like nothing. I was the only person living in the entire school so I was positive that I was going to be alone. I plopped onto my bed, an old mattress placed in a corner near the window. I laid there on my back, the white ceiling boring to look at even though it seemed to be the only place my eyes wanted to watch. I reached for the thin chain around my neck and slowly pulled it out from under my shirt.
A small gray stone was attached at the end, odd carvings covering its otherwise smooth surface. My father had given it to me years ago before he left me and my mom. If only he knew that she was dead now. I turned to my side and stroked the stone with my thumb and index finger in a circular motion, my anger slowly starting to subside. Why did people always have to blame me? I had enough problems to deal with on my own. If they had been through everything I'd been through, and seen the things I'd seen, maybe they wouldn't think of me so much as the stupid bastard that they were forced to coexist with. I didn't even tell anyone where I lived just so they couldn't come and give me grief.
Before I even knew it, a small tear had slid down my cheek. I was nineteen and I was crying over something so stupid. Even though it annoyed me, I didn't bother to wipe it away, I'd learned that sometimes it was just better to let things be. But that was quickly becoming harder to do these days.
My name is Beckett Hollens, and this is our story.

==-=

Freedom.
Answers.
Revenge.
Survival.
And appreciation. These are the five things that we yearn for. The things that have consumed us to the point that it is the only thing on our minds. So important are these things to us that we will do anything to get them. Even if it means we lose ourselves along the way. At some points, we feel as if we should give up. And at others, we feel like we are unable to be beaten.
There are countless enemies at every-which-way we turn. We can't run. Can't hide. All we can do is fight.
So follow me.
Join us in our search of what we seek.
And most importantly.
Remember us as we change the world.
Forever.