Chapter 8

"When other creatures have gone to stall and bin, Ought to be told to come and take him in." -Robert Frost, the runaway

In all of the books and stories and comics that Orson ever had, it described the world as a place of life, and constant growth and change.
But the world seemed to be stopped, somehow, captured in a terrible moment, unable to escape.
Instead of vast plains of lush grass, there was harsh, crusty clay, with only a few plants sprouting up here and there.
The air was dry, and hot, and the sun was brighter than Orson ever thought it to be. He remembered Chilo would talk about it at his request, but he never fully grasped just how intense it was.
There were a few trees, and some cacti, but for the most part the landscape was a wasteland. The only wet areas were still, muddy puddles which gathered in the shade of larger rock formations.
Then there was, of course, the green sky. Every single portrayal of the world always had a bright blue sky, but the sky was instead a light green, as if it were in a constant state of a mist, fumed from mints in the sky.
The world that Orson was in was not the world Orson expected, but it was still the world.
This is where Chilo was, so this is where he would search.
He had several other goals while he was on the surface. He would find Joseph Li Marton, have proof that he was real. He would try and find the previous bunker inhabitants, show them what they left behind and who he grew up to be. He would learn so much in this surface world, and when he returned the bunker, he would return with other people, so he would no longer be lonely. He would record all his experiences up here, so the future bunker inhibitors would not be confused about the state of the world, like he is now. This was his plan.

 

He thought about things, for a long time, as he walked and walked, trying to find a place where Chilo would be.
One of the things he thought about is what he would do when he found Chilo, he didn’t quite know. Mainly he would hug her again. The departure hug was the greatest feeling Orson had ever felt.

He thought about inviting her back to the bunker, but even after spending a month inside, and bonding with Orson, she still left, and never quite told him why, so he just assumed that she liked it better out here. Surviving off her own terms. She might even have friends.
Orson felt a small tang of jealousy at the thought of her having other companions, but he thought it was realistic. He read in a study that most people will have around 30 close friends by their adulthood.
He just hoped that he was not just another acquaintance, but instead a close friend. One that she felt bad about leaving behind.

He would find her, and find out.

Suddenly, something on the dusty path he was traversing caught his eye.
‘REFUGE’ The sign screamed in bright blue letters, with the wooden arrow pointing towards a split in the path.
“ Guess this is where I’m going.” He began waking in that direction.

 

A light step, a slight step. A soft breath, a quick glance around the corner.
The sound of leather quietly squeaking as a gun handle was gripped.
Two distant voices, a boy and a girl, having a conversation about something irrelevant, but apparently engaging enough that they did not notice Chilo enter their safe haven.
She had watched them yesterday, and this morning too. They were only two of them in the whole house. A three story, moderate sized abandoned house. They sat in the top story, where the wall they looked out of was knocked out, and they sat on chairs.
One, the girl, held a long-distance rifle, and usually a murky colored bottle, while the other one was always scouting with his binoculars. They would switch every couple of hours, and after a few times switching, they would leave and another couple would replace them.
Whatever they were guarding, or whoever they worked for, was obviously important. And like most important things in the expanse, it was up for grabs. If you couldn’t guess, Chilo was very, very good at grabbing.
 Step, step, step, step.
She searched every room up to the one they were in silently, swiftly but thoroughly checking for this important treasure being guarded, but of course, it had to be in the room they were in. It would have been too easy otherwise.
A light step, a light step.
A wet spot.
The old wood creaked as Chilo’s foot slipped ever so slightly.
The pair looked at her.
Trivial thoughts entered Chilo’s head. She didn’t blame herself for not asking earlier, because she had no context or reason, but she should have asked Orson if there was a word for a situation like this.
They all looked at eachother. But after a few split seconds put together like crumbs in a pile, the girl moved first, trying to reposition her rifle at Chilo, but with Chilo’s handgun she was much faster, shooting near her hand, and the rifle fell to the ground three stories below, with a satisfying crash. Binocular boy tried running for a gun on the wall but Chilo shot him in the head, blood painting the walls, and the soul of the nameless man instantly dissipated like cold water hitting hot steel; floating into the air, impossible to regather. He was dead, and the corpse that crashed into the rotting wood was no longer his, it belonged to the world.
“Hey.” Chilo pointed the gun at the girl, who didn’t move, frozen.
“Don’t move.” She ordered. The girl nodded her head.
“What are you guarding? What’s this watchtower for?”
“I-uh…” She looked at Chilo with huge, scared eyes. Chilo sighed, her shoulders rising up and then back down in dissatisfaction.
“There’s nothing here!” The girl blurted.
“Then what are you guarding, then?” Chilo’s straight-to-the-point personality somehow threw the girl off. Which led Chilo to believe that she wasn’t part of any kind of gang. If you grew up in the Expanse, you should be used to being treated like nothing. This girl seemed to think that she was somebody.
“ We’re supposed to keep everyone away from the west area.” She said, tears swelling up at the edges of her eyes.
“…Why?” Chilo quickly glanced around the room, searching for a vault, or somewhere a vault might be hidden.
“We don’t know, we were just paid extra to go out and keep everyone out.” She said. Chilo looked at her again. The girl covered her mouth, realizing she had made a mistake. Chilo clicked her tongue, kneeling to be on her on-the-floor level.
“What’s in the west area?” She asked.
“…I don’t know.” She said, a quick glossy tear shined it’s way down her cheek like a falling star.
“I promise I don’t know anything they won’t tell us.” She said, breathing shakily.
“Is there any food or water in here?” Chilo asked, looking around.
The girl stared at her, breathing heavily. Chilo looked at her and made a mocking face. The girl sighed and looked to the right wall, tilting her head in it’s direction, towards a small cabinet.
“Thanks.” Chilo stood up and walked over to it, opening it, seeing that it was empty.
“Son of a b***h.” She turned around, pointing her gun at the girl, half crouched, holding a knife. She yelled and lunged at Chilo, but the force of her pounce was forced out of balance as a bullet entered and left her skull, causing her head to jerk back and her torso to fall on her knees, eventually all of her crippled on the floor.
“Oh well.” Chilo sighed.

There were a few bottles of water in the place, that was about it. Nothing interesting, the girl was at least telling the truth about that.
She stepped outside, looking at the smashed rifle on the dusty ground. She salvaged what scraps and bullets she could to sell later, then she began walking. She was not going to get involved in whatever they were wrapped up in.
About a mile down the road, a thought came to her.
Awkward, she realized.
Awkward is the word Orson would have said, when they were all looking at eachother.
I hope that kids okay.