The Initiate

A Story by Rod2

Part of a Mythos I've been creating, dealing with post apocalyptic societies forming along the eastern coast of the US.

I don't know how long we wait beneath the boughs of the large oak overlooking the shore before a mechanical gurgle disturbs the silence. It's not until Rance pushes onto his feet that I even realize the sound's not just in my head. "Wait here," he says, brushing off the seat of his dungarees.

I nod once and he ambles down the gentle slope towards the water's edge. I still know little about him; he doesn't talk much. Rance is about my age, maybe a couple of years older. His hair's a darker shade than mine and the ends brush the collar of his jacket. We could pass for brothers.

He stands with a hand in mock salute against the morning sun. I follow his gaze across the sound. There's a dark smudge along the horizon that will become my home...if I survive initiation.