She missed home. Nicole walked through fields of grass as London hung in the background beyond several trees. It was odd seeing the capital of the United Kingdoms seem so lifeless. There were no lights, distant sounds of cars, or the whine of flight engines as they descended onto runaways packed full of tourists. Ever since the electricity went out, it was just silence. Silence that stalked those that survived, silence of the government, and silence of the police. In an instant, taking place three years ago, the noise had all stopped. For once in a very long time, the Earth was quiet.
In the beginning, there were riots. The military was deployed in hopes of restoring order, but without communication, soldiers had no orders to follow as they either deserted or turned rogue to form one of the many countries that divided the UK. Communism rose up from those who felt the world paid no heed to the workers, democracy sought to survive even with its corruption, the old government sought control but found none, and the iron grip of the dictator soon came to be.
Nicole knew her country was the same — perhaps worse. She was doing her residency in the US. When she was afforded the time, she took a trip to the UK for a small vacation, a little bit of fresh air to clear away the sleepless shifts at the hospital. With her time abroad, her english had improved immensely but still had the occasional stumble here and there.
Cresting a hill, Nicole’s destination finally came into view. Just beyond the tree-line, an independent settlement made of metal-sheeted walls with towers at the four corners looked out into the empty plains. Reassured by the sight, she picked up the pace after she retied her hiking boots.
Shrugging her Osprey backpack, which carried her essentials and canteen, higher on her back, the straps wrapped snuggly around the faded green utility jacket she wore along with a dirtied grey tank top and black cargo pants. A mountain climbing pickaxe hung at her side fixed to her belt while her compound bow rested over her shoulder.
As she drew closer, the grass behind he rustled. Notching an arrow, Nicole pulled back on the string as she ducked down. Before her, three figures — garbed in masks, jackets, hiking bags, and weapons stood there weapons bared. Their outfit was clearly military — from what she remembered from the movies anyhow.
“Easy there lass,” said the one in front. He shouldered his left shoulder towards her. In the middle, a patch with a faded grey sword resting diagonal was sown to his jacket. “Just passing through. Don’t do anything rash.”
Nicole reluctantly slacked the drawstring. The other three did the same. Her eyes never left the trio.
“Better. You with the settlement over there? We’re headed there ourselves. You’re free to join us. Isn’t safe traveling by yourself.”
“What … is the Directorate doing out here?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you people venture out this far.”
“German?”
“Yes.”
Another one of the Directorate Stalkers moved forward. Nicole blinked in surprise as he began to converse in her tongue. “I didn’t think I’d find another. I’m Pavel. Just you?”
She nodded. “Nicole. Plane landed in the airport when it happened,” she replied. “So what’s the Directorate doing out here? Communist are keeping to themselves — mostly. Aren’t you fighting the Old Government? What was it … the Royal Parliament of England? I think that’s what their calling themselves now.”
Pavel scoffed as he spat on the ground before him. “And they’ve done nothing. At least the Directorate keeps its citizens safe.”
“I’m sure the eugenics der Führer instituted shows that. This settlement doesn’t need or want.”
“We’ll see, Fräulein. It’s good the others can’t understand you. I won’t say a word. Come back with us. You’ll be on your way, and we’ll be on ours. The dominion of the Directorate isn’t as bad as you’d think. If you want safety — and purpose — I’m sure you’d pass the People’s test.”
Shaking her head, she turned back towards the settlement. “Lets get moving then,” she said in english. “Just a suggestion. Keep your weapons down, the people there are very cautious.”
The man who initially spoke nodded. “Wouldn’t want a stray bullet now would we?”
“No. No, we do not.”
—
The little town the locals called, Clover field, was in an uproar. Nicole sipped on her drink quietly. Clover Field’s only pub, Strutting Stallion, had the reputation of a fight every night. Today, however, was different. Patrons within its doors muttered quietly to another. A belligerent was certainly present — rattling off obscenities — but the heavy atmosphere ignored him.
“Nicole.” The barkeeper, Jillian, leaned against her pub’s table made from a makeshift pieces of wood. “Doing okay? You’ve been quieter than usual. How was the trip?”
If there was anyone in this small town that Nicole appreciated, it was Jillian. For a time, she was under Jillian’s employment, helping around the pub. In return, she received supplies and a place to stay, which was a rarity these days.
“There’re more … what’s the word? Bandits?” Nicole said taking another sip from her mug. “The Directora—“
“Can’t believe they showed up, love,” Jillian said. She tossed her black hair out from her eyes. She eyed a patron. “So help me David, throw up and you’ll be on all fours cleaning!”
The stout man grunted. “This ain’t nothin’ woman. Christ, I can handle them drinths.”
“Sure you can you crazy lout,” Jillian said. “I’m closing your tab. Hell, you still owe me from your previous!”
Nicole laughed as she finished off her drink. She was feeling the buzz time swell. She hated it in the past, but welcomed it now. “You can close mine up Jil,” she said. “I think it’s about time for me to get moving anyways.”
“Still have that room available, if you still want it?”
“Leaving Clover field,” Nicole said. “I need a change in … scenery?”
The stool next to her dragged back. A sigh escaped the stranger’s lips. “We meet again. Nicole wasn’t it?”
Sitting right next to her, Pavel ordered himself a glass of the strongest thing Jillian carried as he flashed her a smile. Nicole had to admit, he wasn’t anything special, but something about the childish gleam in his eyes and blond hair made him pleasant to look at.
“Ja, herr Pavel.”
As she made to get up. A strong grip clamped around her wrist. The childish gleam was gone from Pavel’s eyes. “It’s rude to leave good company,” he said. A steely edge crept into his voice. “Come. I think we should get to know each other better.”
“Excuse me,” Jillian said, “you let go of her th—“
“Shut up, bitch! Nicole, sit. I do wish to keep this civil. So, again, sit fraulein.”
In the beginning, there were riots. The military was deployed in hopes of restoring order, but without communication, soldiers had no orders to follow as they either deserted or turned rogue to form one of the many countries that divided the UK. Communism rose up from those who felt the world paid no heed to the workers, democracy sought to survive even with its corruption, the old government sought control but found none, and the iron grip of the dictator soon came to be.
Nicole knew her country was the same — perhaps worse. She was doing her residency in the US. When she was afforded the time, she took a trip to the UK for a small vacation, a little bit of fresh air to clear away the sleepless shifts at the hospital. With her time abroad, her english had improved immensely but still had the occasional stumble here and there.
Cresting a hill, Nicole’s destination finally came into view. Just beyond the tree-line, an independent settlement made of metal-sheeted walls with towers at the four corners looked out into the empty plains. Reassured by the sight, she picked up the pace after she retied her hiking boots.
Shrugging her Osprey backpack, which carried her essentials and canteen, higher on her back, the straps wrapped snuggly around the faded green utility jacket she wore along with a dirtied grey tank top and black cargo pants. A mountain climbing pickaxe hung at her side fixed to her belt while her compound bow rested over her shoulder.
As she drew closer, the grass behind he rustled. Notching an arrow, Nicole pulled back on the string as she ducked down. Before her, three figures — garbed in masks, jackets, hiking bags, and weapons stood there weapons bared. Their outfit was clearly military — from what she remembered from the movies anyhow.
“Easy there lass,” said the one in front. He shouldered his left shoulder towards her. In the middle, a patch with a faded grey sword resting diagonal was sown to his jacket. “Just passing through. Don’t do anything rash.”
Nicole reluctantly slacked the drawstring. The other three did the same. Her eyes never left the trio.
“Better. You with the settlement over there? We’re headed there ourselves. You’re free to join us. Isn’t safe traveling by yourself.”
“What … is the Directorate doing out here?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you people venture out this far.”
“German?”
“Yes.”
Another one of the Directorate Stalkers moved forward. Nicole blinked in surprise as he began to converse in her tongue. “I didn’t think I’d find another. I’m Pavel. Just you?”
She nodded. “Nicole. Plane landed in the airport when it happened,” she replied. “So what’s the Directorate doing out here? Communist are keeping to themselves — mostly. Aren’t you fighting the Old Government? What was it … the Royal Parliament of England? I think that’s what their calling themselves now.”
Pavel scoffed as he spat on the ground before him. “And they’ve done nothing. At least the Directorate keeps its citizens safe.”
“I’m sure the eugenics der Führer instituted shows that. This settlement doesn’t need or want.”
“We’ll see, Fräulein. It’s good the others can’t understand you. I won’t say a word. Come back with us. You’ll be on your way, and we’ll be on ours. The dominion of the Directorate isn’t as bad as you’d think. If you want safety — and purpose — I’m sure you’d pass the People’s test.”
Shaking her head, she turned back towards the settlement. “Lets get moving then,” she said in english. “Just a suggestion. Keep your weapons down, the people there are very cautious.”
The man who initially spoke nodded. “Wouldn’t want a stray bullet now would we?”
“No. No, we do not.”
—
The little town the locals called, Clover field, was in an uproar. Nicole sipped on her drink quietly. Clover Field’s only pub, Strutting Stallion, had the reputation of a fight every night. Today, however, was different. Patrons within its doors muttered quietly to another. A belligerent was certainly present — rattling off obscenities — but the heavy atmosphere ignored him.
“Nicole.” The barkeeper, Jillian, leaned against her pub’s table made from a makeshift pieces of wood. “Doing okay? You’ve been quieter than usual. How was the trip?”
If there was anyone in this small town that Nicole appreciated, it was Jillian. For a time, she was under Jillian’s employment, helping around the pub. In return, she received supplies and a place to stay, which was a rarity these days.
“There’re more … what’s the word? Bandits?” Nicole said taking another sip from her mug. “The Directora—“
“Can’t believe they showed up, love,” Jillian said. She tossed her black hair out from her eyes. She eyed a patron. “So help me David, throw up and you’ll be on all fours cleaning!”
The stout man grunted. “This ain’t nothin’ woman. Christ, I can handle them drinths.”
“Sure you can you crazy lout,” Jillian said. “I’m closing your tab. Hell, you still owe me from your previous!”
Nicole laughed as she finished off her drink. She was feeling the buzz time swell. She hated it in the past, but welcomed it now. “You can close mine up Jil,” she said. “I think it’s about time for me to get moving anyways.”
“Still have that room available, if you still want it?”
“Leaving Clover field,” Nicole said. “I need a change in … scenery?”
The stool next to her dragged back. A sigh escaped the stranger’s lips. “We meet again. Nicole wasn’t it?”
Sitting right next to her, Pavel ordered himself a glass of the strongest thing Jillian carried as he flashed her a smile. Nicole had to admit, he wasn’t anything special, but something about the childish gleam in his eyes and blond hair made him pleasant to look at.
“Ja, herr Pavel.”
As she made to get up. A strong grip clamped around her wrist. The childish gleam was gone from Pavel’s eyes. “It’s rude to leave good company,” he said. A steely edge crept into his voice. “Come. I think we should get to know each other better.”
“Excuse me,” Jillian said, “you let go of her th—“
“Shut up, bitch! Nicole, sit. I do wish to keep this civil. So, again, sit fraulein.”