literature

The Purged: Chapter One: Ajax

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Today was just like any other day. I tread down the empty streets, working my way down the same familiar narrow alley way I take every morning and focus on the moldy walls and cobbled ground beneath me. The rancid smell of cats and dogs rummaging through the rubbish sets my nostrils ablaze with disgust. I swear, you can still smell the stench of rotting corpses, that were once the Purged; a constant reminder of the death that plagued our home. The brick around me is what interests me; deplete with graffiti, I try to imagine the artists who created them in such detail; and what each image meant. Other men ride the trucks to the wall, I prefer being on my own, even though I'm surrounded by silence on most occasions. My stomach tightens at the sudden thought of the rotting corpses and I begin to wonder if that smell could have been from the artists who's work I admired everyday. I shake the thought from my head and continue my walk. I reach the top of the alley and turn the corner. I know it probably sounds moronic but I try to picture the streets filled with humans; the way my father explained it to me. The streets are covered in abandoned vehicles, rusted and lifeless. The soil beneath lifted the concrete, inviting buckthorn and birch. Natures jungle was slowly taking over and before we know it, our city would be gone. My hand glides along the moss covered brick of a building while passing. Poison Ivy claw at the walls, unable to sustain life. Another useless structure abandoned and forgotten. I think about my Division. The people I’ve grown to trust. I think about their families, their lives, so deeply entangled with violence, neglect, and lies. The weight of the past haunts the members of Zephyr and the more we hear about the Spacers returning to Earth, only serves to plunge us further into the darkness. Everyone but me. I’ve been waiting for this day; to rid myself of all the false opinions that we have all been fed in our youth. Truth is, while some may see the Spacers as figures to rely on; transported on the idea that they will return to Earth and somehow change the world that we know; I know its all a bunch of bullshit. They left us here to rot; never having the intentions to come back.
"What do you think they're like?"
I push my back off the concrete wall and raise the scope of my gun to my eye.
"How the hell would I know?" I say, balancing the weight of the gun against my shoulder as I scan the grounds in front of me.
"You're not curious at all?"
I shake my head. "Nope."
"This could be a good thing, Ajax." Kourt says, leaning his gun against the rail . He removes the lid off his flask, takes a swig and hands it to me. I take the flask and feel the burn in my throat as the liquid numbs a trail to my stomach.
"It's a sham. It's their way of whispering promises in hopes of securing a protected space for themselves. Think about it, Kourt." I say, passing back the flask. "They left us for dead."
There’s one thing about me many may not know. I can be really good at creating the illusion of compliance. I'll lay it on thick now; I’ll do what any other member does, but I’ll never forget, I'll never stop looking for the truth. "You don't know that. You should try and have some faith, my friend." he says. "This is the biggest thing that’s ever happened for us in our whole existence , and for me, that's enough to make me a believer."
I laugh.
"I guess that’s the difference between us." I say, reaching for the flask again. The dry heat of the mid-afternoon sun has my throat feeling raw. I can't decide if the burn of the alcohol was helping matters or making them worse. "I can smell bullshit a mile away."
He snorts.
"So I take it you won't be at the welcoming?"
I move my neck from side to side and wipe the beads of sweat off my forehead. "I wouldn't be caught dead at the welcoming , I don't care how that makes me look."
He shakes his head. "I just don't understand what makes you so sure …"
"Look. If you want to believe that bullshit, I'm not stopping you. When did everyone become so god damn naive? They're traitors, Kourt. You don't find it odd that nobody knows anything about them; aside from the obvious?" I take a deep breath and lower my voice. "I have no reason to believe anything about them is for the good. And neither do you; or anybody else for that matter."
He goes silent. I think, for the moment, that maybe I've persuaded him. But then he says. "Well, I’m still going." I shake my head and laugh once at his ignorance.
"Be my guest. And I'll be right there saying I told you so when It turns out I'm right and all hell breaks loose around here." "What if you're wrong?"
"I'm not wrong." I say, ignoring the hollow feeling in my stomach.
He frowns at me, his thick eyebrows touching his eyelashes, and I see the thought pains him. "For the sake of humankind, let's hope so. "

Later that evening, the eating quarter is full of members, waiting for their portions. This is the only time of day where everyone is all together in a room, and for about an hour, life doesn't feel so empty. Some are already sitting, with their plates half empty, some still wait in lines. I don't bother move from my seat. The housing unit we all live in, is one of the cities nicer hotels;at the time. Big enough to accommodate everyone; with a decent amount of space. Some of us have to crowd three or four members per room-families or more in one room. You can imagine the turmoil . Even though it's one of the only buildings that have been somewhat maintained over the years; it has clearly been left to seed. Most of the workers in the kitchen are women. They're responsible for the cooking and cleaning. We eat in the hotel's restaurant. The kitchen supplies enough room to feed an army and there are enough tables for most of us. You can imagine the amount of dust that lingers in the air. Power supply has become extinct over the years and the only source of power in the building is during dinner hour; run by generators. Heating the hotel during cold nights and winters are a little more tricky. The main lobby, which has been designated for entrainment are heated by wood stoves. Thankfully most rooms have a fireplace; those that don't aren't so lucky. Every technological luxury humans once experienced has become entirely moot.
Children run around the room without a care in the world. Best part about being a kid. I remember, never worrying, never fearing; that was my parents' job. I miss those days. I spot my parents sitting at the far end of the room with Rina and Wes; friends they'd made years ago; as long as I can remember. The head leaders of the Division all sit at a table closest to the food; they get served, we don't. There are three that call the shots around here. Deice 210 is the man in charge - biggest son of a bitch in the Division. I was told he was an ex Field Marshall in the Military before the plague hit and a mean old bastard. Thankfully I've never actually had to talk to him. We take our orders from the two who sit at his sides. Ariana 356 and Pilar 420. And from there, you have your post leaders, assigned at every job functional.
I finally make my way to the line, only a couple members ahead of me and get handed a plate. I hold it to my nose, and try to decipher what I’m smelling. We eat what we get, no bitching, no complaining; my Mother's main rule. "Be grateful," she would say. "We're lucky God blesses us with a warm meal every night." I used to roll my eyes at her optimism, but, now I respect it. I wish I could think like she does. Truth is, how can anyone be optimistic about how we live - how any of this happened, doesn't seem like the works of God. The guilt eats at my core the more I deny my religious beliefs, and part of me wonders with a touch of desperation, how it would feel to have a positive perception of it all. I know it's what my Mother believes, I just can't. Although my Father has never been straight forward in his beliefs, his silence is confirmation that he and I share the same; believing that God is looking out for humanity after all that's transpired sounds like a load of shit to me. I sit down at my usual spot, next to Kourt and Siaren. There were fifteen kids in our faction. School is what they used to call it; now they call it Preparation. We've basically reverted back to the basics on education. Survival - being more intelligent on primal knowledge. Further down the table sits Zeus and Zenia - brother and sister; all from my Preparation.
"Kourt tells me you're not going to the welcoming."Siaren says, ripping off a piece of bread and shoving it in her mouth. I play with the slop on my plate, keeping my eyes to my spoon.
"Kourts right. I'm not."
"Why not?" Zeus asks. I let the spoon fall from my grip and sit back in my chair.
"I'm not getting into this again. I'm just not, that's the end of it." His brows crease in the center and looks insulted.
"Sorry I asked."
"He's afraid the Spacers will prove his suspicions wrong." Siaren says with a smile. "Why do you care?" I retort "I have my reasons."
"Your reasons aren't logical." Zenia cuts in, leaning forward to peak around her brother. I turn my head to the side.
"And yours are?" Her answer lingers. I can see she's trying to musk up an intelligent rebuttal but I save her the pain.
" Nobody here can give me one good reason as to why their return makes any sense. Why now? What's down here for them?" I look around the table, they all look like I've just asked them a life or death question and they're teetering on the edge of a cliff. I know the only reason any member of this Division is even remotely interested in the Spacers arrival, is because from the day they were born, leadership dictates that they be; and they don't even know why.
"Exactly." I say. "I won't be anyone’s puppet." "You know leadership will make you go." Siaren rips off another piece of bread, this time dipping it in her slop.
"They can try." I reply, with a short laugh. I move the slop around with my spoon, and my thoughts drift back to a book my father gave me when I was a youth. A book we were never suppose to see. "Keep this safe, son. There's no saying what they would do if they find you have it." he would say. I keep it hidden beneath a rock down by the river.
Every day after preparations I would go down to the river and flip through the pages, filled with theories believed by many. Theories that all make sense. Nobody knows about this book, maybe if they had, they wouldn't be sure what to think.
The Purged: Chapter One: Ajax
© 2015 - 2024 Daenaira-Zephyr
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Rhoder's avatar
This is a good chapter, but as others have said... it's a little heavy-handed on the exposition. Show, not tell. The world you're describing a pretty interesting, and I love post a apocalyptic settings. I also love cynical characters who try disrupt the status quo, and it seems that's what Ajax is turning out to be. I'll try to find the time to read more.