When the World First Ended…

LII

“Hey, LII!”

I halted, my hand already reaching at the holster on my hip. Two years of doing this had taught my body to respond before my mind did.

But it wasn’t an attack this time.

A Heard I didn’t recognize jogged down the cracked street toward me, a canvas dispatch bag bouncing against his hip. The strap crossed his chest and covered the sleeve where his number should have been stitched.

He had shaggy dark blonde hair and a smile that annoyed me.

There was nothing to smile about. To be happy about.

“Command wants you on the east line tonight,” he said, stopping two feet away, a little out of breath. “I’m the runner,” he added, when I frowned in confusion. “I’m in charge of giving Heard updates. Which, apparently, means I run.”

He grinned.

I rolled my eyes subtly. The Ruler was the only person who reassigned our posts, but she must’ve decided to use him today.

“Sure.” I nodded as my thumb found my shoulder sleeve and traced the numeral there. L. I. I.

His gaze followed, reading my number. But I couldn’t read his. Regardless, I knew every Heard in the city. “You’re new,” I commented.

“Is it that obvious?” He laughed at himself, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile as his eyes crinkled. “Maybe that’s why everyone keeps sending me everywhere. I think it’s a test.”

“It’s always a test.”

His gaze drifted past me to the row of boarded houses, the dull laundry strung between balconies, a woman in a doorway who lifted two fingers at me in greeting. I stared and did nothing in return.

“Do you ever talk to them?” he asked softly, his blue eyes panning back to me. My chest stirred with a feeling I couldn’t place, so I shook it off quickly. “The Livings.”

Was he crazy? “That’s not the job.”

“Huh.” The corner of his mouth twitched as he slipped his hands into his pocket. “I always thought keeping people alive and knowing them would go together. You know,” he shrugged, “their hobbies, likes and dislikes—”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to run to?” I snapped harder than I’d intended.

His smile fell as he nodded and I felt a little guilt inside. He was new at this. We were all new once upon a time.

He gave me a closed fist in salute. “See ya around, then.”

I watched him go for one second longer than I should’ve, absently noting his broad shoulders and the way he filled out his uniform, from his firm arms to his toned thighs and…

“Get your head out of the gutter, LII,” I hissed at myself. The last thing I should be doing is ogling anyone, especially on patrol.

I straightened and took a deep breath, moving on to the intersection where a corner shop that still sold tins of peaches stood. As I walked into the alley, a man jumped out of the shadows, making me flinch.

“Shit—” I breathed. “You shouldn’t scare people like that.”

“You took her,” he rasped thickly.

What? My hand moved to my holster as I backed out of the alley and into the light. He followed me and I saw him properly.

He looked thin and unshaven, wearing a coat that was two sizes too big for him. But it was the sharp cleaver knife he held in his hand that made my breath stall.

“Sir,” I said carefully, “Put that down.”

He slashed the weapon through the air as he moved closer. “You took her,” he growled. “You were supposed to keep us safe! But you let them take her!”

I tried reaching into his mind to calm him down, but it was like a maze that was filled with darkness. Still, I pushed, searching for a place of light so I could make him understand.

“LII, look out!”

Something slammed into me from the side just as the man swung again, closer to me this time. I hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, the wet sound of metal scraping against gravel filled the air.

The person who grabbed me groaned in pain. “Shit. That hurt. I didn’t think it was going to be that bad.”

I twisted sharply, immediately jumping to my feet.

It was him. The Heard from minutes ago. He was bent on the ground, one hand clamped to his jacket in a place where blood was seeping through.

He was injured.

Shit.

I turned to the other man that had hurt him, but he was staring at his hands now, like he was in a daze. Then he dropped the knife and ran.

My feet started to move—to chase after him—but I turned back to the Heard bleeding on the floor. I gritted my teeth and went over to him, crouching.

“Don’t move,” I instructed, reaching for his jacket to see how bad the injury was. “I’m calling a medic.”

“Don’t.” He caught my wrist before I could open the jacket, his blue eyes gazing into mine. They were dark and pleading, sending a shiver down my spine. “It’s not that deep.”

Not that deep? “You’re bleeding through your jacket,” I exhaled in frustration, feeling my chest tighten. “I’m not going to let you die on my watch.”

He laughed.

“I’ve had worse.” He said it lightly, but the color was draining from his face. “If you call it in, they’ll find him. And you know they won’t be gentle.”

I couldn’t care less. “That’s the rule. He attacked a Heard.”

“He’s a man who lost someone he loved. Wouldn’t you react the same way?” He let go of my wrist as his lips curled with a crooked smirk. “Break the rule, LII. Just this once.”

My brows scrunched into a deep, puzzled frown as I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Why would I do that?”

He exhaled slowly, as the color drained from his face. “Because I saved your life? You owe me one, and I’m calling it now.”

My fingers curled tight enough that I could feel the half-circles forming in my palms. My chest rose and fell heavily as I bit my bottom lip.

I hated owing anyone anything. “I don’t think…” my voice trailed off.

“Sure you don’t.” He hauled himself to his feet, one hand holding his jacket closed over his side, as he grabbed his dispatch bag and slung it over his shoulder to cover the stain. “But I know you’ll keep your word.”

He winked at me. “See you around.”

I watched him round the corner of the peach shop, limping slightly.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that I remembered I still didn’t have his number.

My fingers opened as I stared at his blood on my hand, bright and warm, like the color of his eyes. I shook my head, forcing my thoughts to focus on something else.

The man in the alley.

The Living.

His mouth had hung wide after he used the knife, and before he ran away, as though someone had pried it open.

My blood turned chill as I rubbed my arms.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a face like that.

The first time was when the world ended.

***

8:28pm.

I knew the exact time, because my parents were religious bingers of a particular soap opera that had been running for over twenty series.

It started every Monday at 8:30pm, and an advertisement always ran before it. That was their cue to wrap up whatever they were doing. I’d glanced at the clock the moment it began. Two minutes.

I was staying over because I’d lost my job. The lay-offs had been massive and brutal, but my parents welcomed me home without a single complaint. So I joined their little ritual, sitting in front of the TV.

I remember that day so vividly because the advertisement stopped all of a sudden, like the TV had glitched, and was replaced with the face of a man.

A face that still haunted me till this day.

Sweat soaked his hair and ran down his collar. He wore an expensive three-piece brown suit, and folded into the breast pocket was a white handkerchief, the one dry thing on him. His mouth hung wide, as though someone had pried it open.

It felt like he was looking right at me.

And then,

“They’re coming. They’re coming. RUN FOR YOUR LIFE.”

His mouth hadn’t moved. But I heard the words inside my skull, so loud the room went white, and I passed out on the couch.

When I woke, my mom was shaking me. She had snacks. The soap opera was starting.

I must have fallen asleep and had a bad dream. That was what I told myself.

Or so I thought.

Because the creatures came later that day. We didn’t know what they were…aliens, monsters…they came in hundreds, in machines clouded by fog so we couldn’t see what they really looked like.

Not even the scientists knew they were coming.

It was an ambush.

A strategic one, that broke our society into pieces. They took some of us—mothers, fathers, siblings and friends. There was no system to how they picked, except that some of us were gone and nobody knew why they had spared the others.

But when the dust settled, something else happened.

It was a knock on my parents’ door, a week after the creatures took them. I’d instinctively waited to hear my mother’s voice to open the door, even though they were long gone.

There were four uniformed people standing outside, their faces concealed by masks that looked like helmets and hazmat gear at once. One of them read my full name, then said my presence was required at headquarters. I was to leave everything behind and come with them immediately.

It was an order I wasn’t at liberty to refuse.

I found out that they’d rounded up a hundred of us. We were the ones who had seen the man’s face on the TV the evening before everything changed.

We were the ones given a purpose. A number. A holster, and grueling training and torturous physical work.

We also had powers, they said, but it would take time before some of us could figure out a way to use them.

Powers? It was a wild thing to say, but given that monsters had invaded the earth, I wasn’t about to doubt it.

They told us, “You are the chosen. You were visited by someone who was able to reach beyond the barrier. You have special powers to protect the vulnerable. You are the new defenders of this side of earth.”

Then they gave us guns.

And when the creatures returned a month later, we were sent to monitor the Livings and keep them indoors.

That was when the world ended for the second time.