Status: Being worked on, would appreciate criticism

Deadwastes

Pray For Me

Mason stepped forward in front of the gate, then lifted up his arm and banged it on the large metal doors. He stood there waiting for a moment, tapping his foot, before they shuddered and slid open. He saw people looking up and staring at him, most of them not knowing who he was. Just as quickly, though, they looked away and resumed whatever task they were doing. Everyone seemed to be busy.

He stepped inside and heard the doors shut behind him, then looked at the door controls. Brent, the engineer, waved at him without looking up from his notes. Mason turned and saw Jackson directing a group of people who were moving a set of plastic tables around. Mason quickly walked over to him, then tapped him on the shoulder.

“No, Amanda, don’t do- What? Who…?” he said, then turned around. Mason looked at him silently, then zipped open his bag and showed Jackson what he’d found. Jackson looked at it for a moment, nodded, then pointed to the doctor he’d been shown before. Maria. She was talking to a little boy who was sitting across from her in a white tent.

Mason went over to her, waiting patiently as she talked to the child. When she was finished, she stood up, gave the kid a squeeze on the shoulder, then turned around, startled to see Mason standing there. Her eyes were tired, and the lines on her face spoke volumes about the stress she probably had to deal with.

“Oh! You’re the new guy, right? Mason?” she asked. He nodded.

She peered at him, still wearing his goggles and scarf. “Jackson mentioned something about a burn. Do you mind if I…?” she started, then reached for his face. Mason stood back quickly, alarmed. He looked at her and shook his head.

She shrugged. “It’s fine. You have your own choices. So, I hear you went on a little trip? Did you get anything?” she asked him. He nodded, then showed her the contents of his bag. She looked down at it, then back at him, smiling warmly.

“That’s great! We’ve been running out of those, and that should last us for a few more months. Did you have any trouble on the way there?” she asked him.

He looked at her wordlessly, thinking about all the dead bodies. After a moment, he took a deep breath, and shook his head. She stared at him for a moment, a suspicious look in her eyes, before she smiled again.

“That’s fine. Go talk to Jackson then, he said he had another job for you.” she told him. Mason was tired, but he knew he had to try. This was the first stable area he’d found here, and he wasn’t going to make them all hate him already.

“Oh, wait.” she said as he turned away. Looking back, she tossed him a bottle of the painkillers, then winked at him. “I think we’ll be fine if one of them goes missing.” she said, then walked into her tent.

He looked at the bottle in his hands, filled with pills. He didn’t need them right now, but he figured it would be a good idea to keep ahold of them. Tossing them into one of his bag’s compartments, he walked over to Jackson, who had finished with the tables, and was now doing a count of water and food supplies.

He was staring at a crate full of cans when he noticed Mason out of the corner of his eyes. Jackson turned, stretched backwards and popped his back, then let out a tired breath.

“Alright, this one should be the last for today. You managed to get those supplies, so I know that you’re smart enough to pay attention to your surroundings. This time, you need to be a little bit more careful. Our other scouts have been watching the Locksteels, and for some reason they’re really, really riled up. They’ve been going to all of their secondary bases and rounding up their vehicles, getting everyone they have together. I need you to go and try to figure out what’s going on.” he told him, looking worried.

“How?” Mason asked, confused about what exactly Jackson was asking him to do.

“Spy on them. If you can get me any information about what they’re up to, come back here as fast as you can. Got it?” he asked.

Mason shook his head slowly. “I don’t even know where to go.” he said.

Jackson thought for a moment, then came up with an idea.

“They’ve been roaming the city for a while now, a lot of them in armored vehicles.” he told him. Mason remembered the truck he’d seen, dragging the trailer. That must have been one of the Locksteels.

“If you can find one of them, try to follow it. That should eventually lead you to one of their encampments. Once you’re there, stay hidden and listen to anything they might be saying. Sound good?” he asked. Mason started to nod in agreement, but stopped, feeling suspicious.

“This seems like it’s a pretty important task. So, why are you asking me, someone you barely know, to do it?” he asked. Jackson stared at him, his eyes hard and unrevealing.

“Because if it turns out badly, I won’t lose one of the men I do know. And if turns out well, then you’ll have proven your worth.” he told him simply.

Mason stepped back, surprised by his bluntness. Jackson shrugged.

“Like I said. We all carry around our own weights here. But sometimes others have to carry more.” Jackson told him. “I have to put the lives of those I know first. If you don’t agree with me, then, well, there’s the door.” he said to Mason.

They looked at each other, and Mason could feel Jackson’s eyes burning through his goggles. Finally, Mason relented, hanging his head and sighing. Jackson nodded curtly.

“Good. Try to be back before sundown. Don’t want a critter making you into a chew-toy.” he said to him, then turned back to his job.

Mason looked back up, annoyed that Jackson was forcing him to do this, then walked over to the stairs leading out into the airport. He twisted the handle and pulled it, leading back up into the dark stairwell. He pulled his coat tighter around him, then shoved his hands into his pockets and walked up.

Once he reached the top, he opened the door and walked hurriedly outside. Stepping back into the airfield, he gazed around him at the falling snow and ruined airplanes. He looked towards the sun to try and see what time it was, but the blizzard hadn’t quite finished yet, and the snow and clouds still covered the sky.

He made out the outlines of the skyscrapers in the distance, took a deep breath, and started walking quickly towards them. The wind was quietly howling around him, whirling through the air. It bit and snapped at him, like a rabid dog on a chain. Mason put his head down and kept moving, realizing that this task could very well keep him out here until the night. And he didn’t want to find anything else in this city that could manage to terrify or murder him.

He made it to the edge of the city, standing on a long road that was cracked and broken, at least where it wasn’t covered by snow. Mason felt cold and alone, in the middle of this dying snowstorm in a dead city. He wondered how long the snow would fall. Staring up at the crumbling buildings, he once again wished he knew what was happening, what was going on with all this.

Gazing at the snowflakes, Mason realized he’d been standing there doing nothing but thinking for a few minutes now. He shook his head, dragging himself out of his thoughts, and walked forward down the street. Feeling hungry, he took out one of his granola bars and scarfed it down, then finished off the rest of the water bottle he’d been sipping throughout the day. He kept the empty bottle, figuring they could reuse it, and turned the corner at an intersection.

A traffic light had fallen, covering the road and crushing a small car underneath it. Frozen wires hung out of the bottom, and its lights had been dark for a long time. Mason stepped around it, glancing briefly through the web-like cracks of the car’s front window. He saw a pale hand reaching out from the driver’s side, frozen inside the car. He quickly looked away, not interested in seeing any more death.

Traveling through the frozen city, he kept his eyes out for any vehicles that weren’t ruined or destroyed. At least two hours passed before anything even remotely interesting happened.

The snow had died down by this point, and the sun hung in the sky, gazing down like a sad parent on a dying child.

The warmth it gave off never seemed to reach the ground.

Mason had reached the edge of a suburb, staring down the street at the faded houses and decaying homes. A rumble down the street behind him made him turn around quickly, and he spotted a pair of headlights coming down the road.

Mason’s eyes widened, and he quickly ran off the street, hiding behind a once-blue house, now faded into a dull grey. He knelt down and watched a dark car drive by, similarly outfitted with metal and spikes like the truck he’d seen earlier. He stared at it until it drove past, then started to follow it, keeping himself down low and moving as quickly as he could manage without drawing attention to himself.

It moved slowly, unable to go very quickly with the ice that covered the road, giving Mason an easy time of following it. He trailed it for a while, shadowing it through the snowy suburb. After a while, it slowed down and stopped at a large garage on the southern part of town. Mason hid behind another house, watching as the two men inside got out and went into the garage.

He stayed for a moment and looked around, making sure nobody else was going to come out and spot him, then he dashed across the street, going up to the door. Crouching down, he held his ear to the door, trying to ignore how cold it felt against his face. He could just barely make out what they were saying.

“Damn those assholes. Freezing my ass off in here…” one of them said.

“Shut it. You know as well as I do that Locke needs everyone to be ready. Did you grab that shotgun over by the wall yet?” the other responded in a gruff voice. The first one groaned, and Mason heard a clinking noise.

“We wouldn’t even have to be here if most of the cars hadn’t been blown up. Do we even know who did it?” the first one asked.

“Nobody does. But we need a lot more supplies now because of it, and Locke says Jackson’s group is the only one who has enough of them.” said the second. Mason felt sweat break out on his forehead.

“So what, we just wait here until someone comes and gets us?” the second asked. Mason heard the first voice let out a confirming grunt.

He stood up and backed away slowly. He didn’t need to hear anything else. Jackson and the others needed to know about this right away. They were in danger. Mason turned around and sprinted as fast as he could through the snow, trying to desperately remember how to get back to the airport. The sun had begun to peek out of the clouds, and Mason stared up as he ran, managing to get a rough sense of direction from it.

Turning past a corner, he felt himself slowly getting out of breath. After about fifteen minutes of solid running, he had stopped, completely fatigued. He leaned against a frozen phone booth, trying to fill his lungs with air.

“Not surprising. You suck at running too. Hmph…” the voice whispered, laughing at him. Mason couldn’t even respond. He felt like he was about to throw up.

He slid down and sat on the ground, trying to get his stomach and lungs to settle. A shudder rippled through his body, and he felt the voice trying to take control of him. Mason fought back as hard as he could. Somehow, he felt like he was winning, fending off the voice. He heard it shout in disbelief, and for a moment Mason felt the balance teeter.

Then, he lost.

A wave of nausea had hit him again, and he lost all concentration. With a triumphant laugh, the voice assumed control of his body. Standing up, the pain and discomfort faded, and Mason held out his arms, watching as orange electricity came out of his palms and arms, curling around his body.

“Now THIS is how you run!” it said, sounding gleeful, and a tad crazy.

He knelt down, and felt his body begin to vibrate. Looking up, the voice pulled his face into a wicked grin, then rushed forward. A noise like a power line snapping rang through the air, and his vision became orange for the briefest moment. Fading quickly, he saw that he was at least a few meters down the street from where he’d been. A chuckle escaped his lips.

The voice pushed his body forward again, and the same thing happened. Mason started to feel dizzy, and his mind was struggling to regain control. But there was no point. The voice had dug itself in, and didn’t seem like it was going to let go anytime soon. It moved him forward, each time going further and further.

He realized, soon, that the voice had no intention of going to the airport. He felt a sense of fear and worry come over him, and he started to freak out.

The voice laughed at him. “We’re not going back to them. I have plans. We’re going on a little… trip…” it whispered. They turned a corner and started heading in a southwestern direction. The voice was pushing his body to its limits, and they were moving across the city as fast as… well, as fast as lightning.

Mason felt himself slipping away, his thoughts fading. He felt… tired. Though he kept fighting, he wasn’t accomplishing anything. The voice had total control over him. They shot through the city and reached the edge, stopping at the start of the highway. Mason saw cars lining the road, frozen to the cold asphalt. The voice stopped him for a moment, looking outwards.

He leaned down, ready to start moving again, but a strange crackling noise behind him gave him pause. He turned around slowly, looking around. Neither the voice nor Mason could see anything. The voice shrugged, then turned back around to keep moving.

The voice’s bizarre orange electricity started to discharge off of Mason’s body. But before he could move, the car that was right next to him, an old SUV that had clearly seen better days, violently exploded. The blast knocked him off of his feet and slammed him into a fallen semi-truck. His back erupted in pain, and blooms of white light flooded his vision. His thoughts turned to mush.

Mason could feel the voice fade away, the explosion knocking loose it’s control. Blinking through blurred eyes, he made out the silhouette of a man walking over the smoking wreckage of the car. The only thing he could tell about him, though, was that his eyes seemed to be on fire, burning through the smoke. And staring straight at Mason.

Stepping out of the debris, he slowly walked towards Mason. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it, Mason shakily got to his knees, feeling intense pain all over his body. He looked up, ashes falling around him. Squinting, he saw that it was the guy from before, the one who had burnt the giant to death.

The snow started up again, flinging itself through the air. Within seconds, a blizzard was once again upon them. Through the cold, Mason felt an intense heat come from the man as he walked towards Mason.

The man tutted. “Ferris, you know better than to try and hide from me. I knew sooner or later you’d use your powers. All I had to do was wait and watch.” he said. Flames wreathed his arms, and he held them loosely by his side, his hands in a claw-like shape.

Mason coughed, then grabbed the side of the truck, trying to stand up. It was amazing he had even managed to remain conscious.

He heard the voice bubbling up inside him, but it didn’t try to take control. Instead, it spat out a single, venom-laced word.

“Samuel…” it hissed.
Pulling himself up, he leaned against the truck, his left arm feeling limp. He glared at the man, whom he guessed to be named Samuel. He was grinning, his eyes burning like miniature stars. He walked over to Mason, stopping right in front of him.

“You can’t take hits like you used to, that’s for sure. What am I going to tell her, Ferris? You know she doesn’t like being surprised. And this is a big one, for sure.” he said, leaning in close to Mason’s face.

Mason shakily lifted up his good hand towards his face. Samuel smirked.

“What are you gonna do, give me a little zap? Oh please, you couldn’t power a lightbulb in that state. Don’t even try.” he taunted, still staring at him. Mason had only met him twice, but he already hated this guy.

He reminded him of the bullies he had as a little kid, the ones who would beat him up, and then try to get him to fight back so he would get in trouble, too.

The fire in Samuel’s eyes started to fade, and his smirk slowly started to turn into a bored stare. Mason slowly pulled down his scarf, looking at him.

Then, he spit in his face.

Samuel’s eyes turned white hot, and he raised a flame-covered fist towards Mason’s skull. Mason raised his hand to defend himself, tugging on the chain as hard as he could. A crack split through the air, and a bright burst of electricity flashed out of his hand, rippling through the air all around him. It launched
Samuel away, tossing him across the highway.

Mason drew his hand back slowly, then turned around to try and walk back towards the city. He took a single step, then collapsed, pain flaring up from his knee. Looking down, he realized that his left arm must be broken. It hung limply by his side, and throbbed painfully. He took a deep breath, then weakly got back to his feet.

He pulled his broken arm around his chest, hugging himself. Then he started limping forward. Each step hurt like hell. His breath frosted the air, coming out in ragged gasps.

A ball of fire flew past his head, smashing into a streetlamp in front of him. It crumpled to the ground, melting into slag. Mason turned around as fast as he could, looking around for Samuel. He needed to leave. There was no way he could defend himself like this.

Another fireball came past him, and he could feel the heat burning through his goggles. It slammed into a car, burning a hole straight through it. Mason kept looking around, desperately trying to figure out where they were coming from. The snow whirled around him furiously, and Mason felt his leg start to give out.

A searing pain hit his good arm, and he crumpled to the ground. His vision started to black out, and he fell forward, his face landing in the snow. His arms were both badly injured now, and he started to feel horribly, horribly numb.

“NO!” the voice screamed into his ear, louder than it had ever sounded before.

He felt his body lock up again, the voice seizing control from him. Mason let go easily, feeling tired. Watching through his own eyes, he numbly saw the voice slowly pull him up onto his knees, staring at the sky. The snow twisted and twirled through the air, buffeted by the breeze.

Samuel came out of the blizzard in front of him, his eyes burning bright. His hands were glowing red, and steam was coming off of his body. The voice was silent, and looked back up at the sky.
Lifting up his burned and broken arms, the voice pushed his body through the pain, and aimed his palms at the sky. Out of the corner of his eyes, Mason saw Samuel’s eyes widen, then he sprinted towards him, his expression changing from angry to frightened.

The voice ignored him, reaching his hands further towards the sky. Then, right before Samuel reached him, he pulled both of his arms down, pulling them down to his chest. The clouds above turned from a pale, bluish gray to black in seconds, and he heard a rumbling noise from the heavens.

A twisting, spiraling bolt of lightning cracked out of the sky, rushing towards Mason. The voice held his arms out, almost as if to embrace it in a hug, and smiled warmly. Mason stared at it, feeling a strange sense of happiness.

The lightning touched him, and for a moment, Mason felt a surge of joy coursing through his body, an elated feeling lifting his spirit.

Electricity curled around him, then burst out of his fingertips, firing out in every direction. The lightning carved through the air, burning through streetlamps and cars. A sign that read “DENVER” over the road was blasted to pieces.

Samuel looked at Mason warily, then tried backing away. The voice, still in control, stood up slowly, then looked at Samuel. He twisted his hands, and aimed them straight at Samuel’s chest.

Samuel crossed his arms in front of him, and created a wave of fire trying to push off the lightning. They hung there, each of their powers pushing against the other. A wall of flame rose up in front of
Samuel, but the voice pushed Mason forward, walking towards him. The lightning clashed with the fire, forming a violent painting in front of him.

Then, like a bomb, the wall of fire pushed outwards, exploding through the highway. The voice shielded Mason’s eyes, lowering his hand once the fire vanished. The lightning dissipated, fading into the air. Samuel was gone, only ashes and smoke lingering where he had stood.

The lightning stopped, and the sky once more filled with grey clouds. The voice stared at the point in the snow where Samuel had vanished, looking at it for a long time. Then, it slowly, but surely, faded
away. Mason felt himself regain control. And then the pain came rushing back to him.

His arms exploded into agony, and his knee buckled almost instantly, making him fall back down to the ground. Landing on his back, Mason looked upwards at the snow. His head felt like a bowl of thick soup, and he couldn’t form any coherent thoughts.

He looked up slowly, and saw a pair of headlights slowly rise out of the snowstorm. A figure walked out towards him, but he couldn’t tell who they were. He slowly closed his eyes, letting himself fade into oblivion.