Chapter 3: Memories

Throughout my life, I had, like anyone else, been stuck performing tasks that were considered tedious. However, covering my tracks over the week after fleeing that dreaded neighborhood was beyond monotonous. Not only that, but the deed was incredibly stressful. Confrontation with others before was bad enough, so when faced with being the prey of an unknown person or group was beyond what I could mentally handle. There were moments where I found my gut so tangled up in fear that I would fight the urge to vomit, and there were times in which I found myself crying without even realizing I was doing so. I was far too young to be able to handle a feeling like this, even if handling the situation was what determined life or death. 

My previous suspicions of being followed were confirmed when I was pursued on foot through a small patch of woods the day after I moved on from that damned house. I had been in a sort of daze during the early morning only three days after retreating from my previous location. A heavy rain had fallen throughout most of the night, and a steady drizzle still remained as I met the ground with heavy footsteps. I was proceeding aimlessly down the same road in hope of finding another decent area that would provide protection, or at least what I could consider protection in my current predicament. I was snapped out of my trance abruptly by a sudden stomping of footsteps on wet pavement. I didn't bother looking back; I knew that the sound could not signify any good news. Instead, I bolted into the forested area that accompanied the road. I ripped low-hanging branches out of my way, having difficulty remaining on my feet due to the slippery groundcovers and steady rain.

I did not catch a decent glimpse of my pursuer, nor did I care to. I allowed adrenaline to control my body and mind as I raced to safety, finally losing my pursuer by diving through briers and dashing onto a path left by what could have been a deer. Small but painful cuts covered my hands, arms, and face from the thorns. 

The voice of my pursuer sounded from somewhere off to my left. "Your legs will only carry you so far, you little b*****d!" the man screamed to the sky. "Save yourself the trouble and come out!"

I remained where I was, knowing that I had eluded him. I didn't dare move until several minutes of silence had passed, and I was fully confident that the man had strayed off in another direction. It wasn't until this moment that I noticed the sting of each minuscule slash. Crouching down by a dead log, I winced as I pulled thorns from my hands and clothes. The soft rain once again fell upon me, reminding me to pull my hood back over my head. I looked around to see that there was very little present around me, aside from a small flock of birds chirping from the tree tops. The sky above was a smooth gray color, with splotches of darkness beginning to move their way towards one another. It was then that I trudged forward, swearing with every step and contemplating what my goal was from here.

After several more days of ducking behind greenery, combating the cold that Mother Nature brought with unpredictable weather, and remaining lost in thought, I discovered what I assumed was the main road to continue traversing on. This road led me to downtown, or at least, what I guessed was downtown. I was not entirely familiar with this area, so I was extremely cautious when exploring the area. Weeds pushed their way through small cracks of the sidewalk, and old-fashioned brick and stone buildings rose high with small business establishes crammed between. Surprisingly, this town, unlike many, was left unaffected by the war. In fact, several of the buildings still contained merchandise or other supplies. The storms that were so troubling before had also disseminated, and for the first time that week, my surroundings were as tranquil as my uneventful days. When attempting to enter a smaller building that, from the outside, resembled a typical small town thrift store, I found that the door was left unlocked. The door opened smoothly, with the ringing of a bell above the door being the only sound emanated from my entry. I cursed myself for breaking the silence and entered the store cautiously. Low shelves were assorted haphazardly with clothing and cheap children's toys, and long and slender lights hung symmetrically between each aisle. The small area was simple to navigate through swiftly, and I was able to find a pair of gloves that fit me amongst an assortment of other clothing that was stuffed into a cardboard box. I happily pulled the gloves on, noticing that the cuts on my hand were now nothing more than thin white marks that stretched across my skin. My minuscule victory was quickly forgotten, however, when the soft patter of steps passed outside. 

In the following moment, several events occurred simultaneously. While the door slammed open and the bell fell from where it was fixed above the door, I dove to the floor as quickly as possible, with nothing but a shelf between me and the other intruder. While diving for the floor, my knife clumsily clattered out of my pocket onto the floor. I remained motionless, convinced that I had been heard and would be found in moments. I remained motionless, holding my breath with a look of intense focus on my face. I was listening for any sound cue that would indicate any opportunity for me to act. The sound of my knife must not have been heard, though, and hastened footsteps echoed from the front door to an exit near the back of the building. 

I remained in my position for another moment before slowly rising, looking toward the exit door. It had been left open, and in the doorway itself stood a man facing away from me. He was largely built, with the outlines of muscles protruding from his tall stature. I was rather tall myself, yet this man easily towered several inches above me. A single scar on his left forearm was visible through a tear in his long-sleeved gray shirt. His tattered clothing suggested that he had been in a scuffle of some sort, and his dark complexion was the only other thing that could be seen in the sunlight. 

This man's movements became less energetic as he looked around, making it seem like he was searching for something. If this was the case, the trail he was following looked as though it had run cold. He sulked slightly, turning towards me again. I ducked back down swiftly, listening to his movements. His feet dragged towards a separate room that I had not acknowledged previously, and I cautiously rose from my hiding place when I heard him enter. I held my breath with each step and peeked into the room. Inside, I saw the man leaning over a photo silently. The room resembled an office of sorts, and its contents were rather barren with the exception of a few chairs and a desk. He fiddled with the corner of the small paper, which was torn. I could not perceive what the contents of the photo were, but I realized that the man was weeping silently over it when I saw tears fall onto it. I noticed a handgun sitting on the desk in front of him, and I could feel my heartbeat quicken upon realizing what was happening.

The man's crying grew more audible, and hiccups interrupted sobbing and heavy breathing. I was unable to mutter a word, as I was too terrified, and admittedly, too cowardly. After minutes of observing the man's grief, I snapped out of my trance as the man grabbed the gun from the desk. As the barrel moved towards his head, I unintentionally shouted out at the man. "Stop!"

The man immediately jumped to his feet and spun towards me, pointing the gun at my face. "Back up!" the man barked at me in a deep voice. I could hear an unsteadiness in his voice as he struggled to maintain his composure. His movements were shaky, and his eyes showed immense fear. "Why are you here?"

My movements were cautious as I took a slow step backward. "I'm trying to make it out here like everyone else, just like you," I said calmly. 

"So that gives you the right to be sneaking up on people like that? Dumbasses get killed like that out here."

"I'm well aware" I responded stiffly.

"Well it's a miracle that your a*s is still alive then, ain't it?"

"It's a miracle that any of us are still standing when we fight each other."

Silence. 

I motioned towards his gun quietly, struggling to maintain my composure. "I'm not trying to take anyone's life man, put the gun down."

The man considered for a moment, and I saw exhaustion cover his face as he dropped the gun to his side. I didn't dare question what I had prevented him from performing, as I was terrified of how he would react. This man was clearly unstable, and I wasn't going to be the one to test his limits.

"Have you seen them?" the man whispered in a cold tone, lowering his head. I stared at him silently, unsure of what he was asking. He looked up at me and acknowledged my confusion. He quickly dropped the question and continued speaking without allowing me to inquire on what he had asked. "It's been so long since I've spoken with someone. I'm Ronald, by the way." 

Before I could respond, the shattering of glass from outside echoed throughout the room. Ronald immediately lifted his gun towards the door, and I spun around to face the entrance. There was silence for a moment, and I slowly put my hand on Ronald's gun and lowered it. Ronald complied, his hands shaking from fear. I was shaking as well, but I suppressed my fear and revealed my knife while making my way towards the doorway slowly. As I peeked into the main room, I held my breath as I scanned for the source of the sound. The front windows had shattered, leaving small glass shards scattered throughout most of the area. Other than the glass, however, the room looked as it had when I first entered it. I motioned for Ronald to follow me, and I quickly peeked out of the side exit of the building before making my way outside.

A small set of stairs led to a narrow alleyway that was also empty. I proceeded towards the back of the building while Ronald followed closely. He nervously checked his shoulder several times as we rounded the back of the alleyway and turned onto another street. We crossed swiftly, taking cover on the front porch of a small duplex. As we crouched down on the dirty floor, Ronald grabbed me and directed my attention towards the left side of the road, where the dull roar of approaching commotion could be heard. There was a tightly packed group of men running towards our location, all of which looked to be heavily armed. Their dark green uniforms were easier to make out as they grew closer, making me wonder what this unit of enemy soldiers was doing in a ghost town.  My heart stopped as I watched the small company of soldiers rushing towards us as if they were in pursuit of something. As I looked back at Ronald, I noticed tears streaming down his face as he prepared to rise and confront the soldiers. Before he could act, I grabbed his forearm and forced him towards the floor. As I did this, the soldiers turned onto a street that led towards the front of the building we had been in. We took this opportunity to enter the duplex and lock the door behind us.

 

We hid silently and as far away from the door and windows as we could until we were sure that those men weren't coming back in this direction. The footsteps and unintelligible shouts from before became inaudible after around fifteen minutes, and after some fearful peeks through the front window, we concluded that we were safe for the time being. The silence was broken as I turned to Ronald and spoke. "Was your plan to take on all of them?" I asked, angry at his carelessness.

"You made a lucky call kid, don't act like you weren't thinking the same damn thing. I was going down fighting," he said, snapping back at me. I avoided his eyes, knowing that he was right. I would have followed his lead if they hadn't turned the corner. As if he was reading my mind, Ronald asked in a calmer tone "Why did you stop me? How could you possibly have known that they would go in that direction?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, reflecting on everything that had happened up to this moment. There were so many questions that I still had, and I even struggled with understanding my own actions in that moment. I responded quietly. "My name is Ethan."

"Answer my question man, what tipped you off?"

I looked up at Ronald and answered his question with one of my own. "Who broke the glass?"

"What do you mean?" Ronald said quickly. 

"Whoever it was that had broken that glass in the store, I think that's what they were chasing after." 

"What do you..." Ronald began before he cut himself off. I could see the gears were beginning to turn in his mind, and he looked at me concernedly. 

My mind drifted back to that strange question Ronald had asked me earlier, and I exchanged looks with him. "Ronald, what did you mean earlier when you asked me if I had seen them?"

Ronald didn't answer my question. Instead, he gestured towards the room around us. "We need to make sure that we are safe here before we do anything. If you really want to know the answer to that question, then I'll tell you. But this ain't the kind of thing to be taken lightly, Ethan. I'll check upstairs, you look for anything important down here."

With that, Ronald walked away from me, and for a moment my mind wandered back to the sinister sound of the laugh of the man in the jeep.

Author's Note

This story is long overdue for a continuation. I would greatly appreciate any feedback you have on the story so far. Thank you for taking the time to read, and feel welcome to give me any criticism you have!