"The train will terminate its journey here. Passengers who wish to disembark are requested to do so promptly to allow other passengers to board the return route. Thank you."
The people growled their frustrations as they stepped outside. Enear and Dycron was standing, yet Dycron was able to sleep, snoring peacefully, while clutching the triangle handle strapped on the ceiling and leaning his head to his friend's shoulder.
"Let's go," Enear said as he shook Dycron's shoulder.
"Huh?" Dyron asked, lifting his head to look at the surroundings with squinting eyes. He wiped his face with his hands. "Finally," he sighed and followed the flow of the crowd heading out the door. Once they hopped on the station, Dycron stretched his arms and yawned, staring at the signage board above.
"District 5," he read and his eyes widened. "DISTRICT 5!?" he exclaimed. But Enear didn't stop so he couldn't as well. "I thought your home is at District 4? Don't tell me–"
"Right."
His face frowned in frustration. "I'm still sleepy. I haven't had any proper sleep since the drone project!"
"You don't need to follow. You can go to your home and rest."
Dycron punched the air. "Nope! Friends never leave each other!"
"We're not even friends."
Dycron clenched his heart. "Don't say such a thing, Enear! It hurts, you know? More painful than break-ups," he said dramatically and put his arms around his friend. "Enear? If you don't see me as a friend, don't tell me you're seeing me more than that?" He rose and down his brow with a playful smirk.
Enear ignored his nonsense.
"Maybe we're cousins! Anyway, whether you like it or not, I'll force you into our friendship!"
"Be careful of who you trust, Dycron. Some wolves clad themselves in a white sheep suit," he replied and pulled away his friend's arm almost strangling him.
"Meh, stop being cringe, Enear."
Enear could enjoy the freedom he has now as much as he can. But as soon as he meets his father, everything will return back to normal. And even if he tries to turn his back on the responsibility, the government will always find a way for him to go back, putting down all his reasons for ditching.
"I'm not just talking about myself, Dycron. Who knows you could be one of them as well."
"Oh. . . I see."
A couple of hours had passed of walking on the sidewalk, the dark skies having a glimpse of purplish twilight. Some posts still had lights, while some were blinking, and worse, some had already died.
At last, they finally saw the rusty and dusty welcoming arc of District 4, some number plates were missing. A completely different scenery awaited them inside. The road ahead of them was made of brown dirt, extending beyond the horizon without any buildings that could be seen–a complete desert.
"Finally! We made it! District 4, here we are!"
Enear looked up the dark twilight sky, hoping it changes as how the morning orange skies burried the dull gray color of the world.
Did you know that there are other suns except what we have? He remembered reading, wondering what it is and how does it looked like. But the skies always blocking the view he always curious to see.
He closed his eyes, letting the warm breeze dance his hair, the sharp scent of rust flow through his nostrils and calm his chest. Only the night Enear could smell good air–or somewhat better than the unbearable noon's wind.
"Here," Dycron lent him a bottle of soda he had just gotten from the vending machine on the sidewalk. "Is your home just nearby?" he asked even though the answer was obvious.
"Do you see anything ahead of us?"
Dycron gulped. "No-thing."
"The houses are near the District 3 boundary," he answered and Dycron spitted the soda in burst.
"What? Have you no any plan to rest? Try to drink a little at least! Let's sit at the bench first!"
"You can follow after you rest. Just walk the road straightly and you'll see ship containers." he instructed and drank the soda straightly.
"And after I see the ship containers? Why are there shipping containers there, by the way? Aren't they already discarded as useless?"
Enear gulped the last soda in his bottle, sighed in refreshment, and threw the bottle on the ground. "That's where I live," he said and moved. Dycron had no choice but to follow.
As dull as District 4 compared to most cities, there's only one place in this District that had a life, where all the rusty canned-wall houses compacted at the smallest area. The passage was like a tight maze as if a little shake at any time could crush one like a sandwich.
The ground was wet, oozing fish smells made of pees and wastes. This was the exact reason this place was hived with scrap houses, as this was the only place that had water–even though they were just from the next city's waste.
Dycron couldn't help himself but to cover his nose by lifting his shirt, and everything was a puzzle on how he could fit himself in such a narrow way.
"I've told you many times. You can always go back and rest," Enear said, walking and slipping himself too casually as if he was just passing on clouds.
"Nah. I wanna see your homie."
Enear thought it as nonsense little childish impulsive wants. But part of him had daydreamed to invite a classmate over to his home to do a group project, when he wasn't yet giving up his humanity. To live as a normal teenager.
"You're going to regret it."
Dycron didn't say anything and focused on pacing like slime trying to slip in. Until, finally, Enear entered a ragged curtain draped on a doorway–his home.
Just as he left his room before the apocalypse, the bare space was crowded with only five things: a short blanket lying down on the floor, and a stumbled radio on a small circular table in the corner. The rest was a useless old necklace and a strip of paper.
Enear's body suddenly collapsed on the ground covered on dirty sheets, cheek kissing the floor sideways, eyes shut, and a gentle snore.
"I'm glad you're not a robot clad in human skin," Dycron said and did the same—but with the loudest snore.
~
We're going to change the world together.
Meh, stop being cringe.
That's the most interesting concept I've ever heard!
You have revolutionary ideas!
Enear! Let's apply to the same university after graduation!
"Die!"
Enear slowly opened his eyes, welcomed by the slip of sunshine painting the rusty walls of the container.
"Weak!"
Enear sat-up. His body felt light. He glanced to Dycron playing on his tablet, its blue light glew faintly the surroundings.
"No!" Dycron screamed on the ceiling and frustratedly dropped his tablet on the table. "The boss level is too hard!"
Enear checked his smartwatch. It's already afternoon He slept for ten hours. The first time he had more than three hours of sleep. A liquid dropped on his watch, blurring the screen.
"Enear? Are you crying?"
He caressed his wet cheeks and realized that tears were coming from his eyes.
"Did you have a nightmare?" Dycron asked him with full attention.
"Nightmare?" his deep voice said in confusion, trying to remember his dream.
Let's apply to the same university together!
He averted his eyes from his friend. He felt frustrated and his chest felt more heavy, trying to hold back the betraying tears.
Let's apply to the same university together!
You have revolutionary ideas!
We're going to change the world together.
"I-I'm sorry, Enear. I know you missed your father."
Those words struck Enear's chest, forcing his fist to clench and teeth to grit in furious. But he realized those words were reminders of the reality. As long as this world exists, he is no boy but an assassin. And his purpose in life was to kill and nothing more. He was a death machine.
Dycron dug his backpack and placed four nutripacks on a table, as well as two bottles of water.
"Come on, let's dig in first."
Enear stared at the food. He remembered when he was only five–when he didn't yet have to work hard on what he ate. He was just waiting for his father to come home so he could eat, compared to when he grew older when all his needs were now his responsibility. He envied his classmates, eavesdropping their stories that they have mothers to cook food every breakfast, pack their lunch, and a dinner together with their whole families.
If only his mother was alive, would his life be normal like theirs?
"Enear, I can explain. In moments like these, this isn't called stealing, okay? I also went through hardship to obtain this stuff. I walked and searched hard to loot this on District 3, okay? It's your District's fault that there's no store around."
Enear reached the water to drink. After, he opened the nutripack and ate with the plastic spoon inside.
A rotten smell suddenly oozed in the air.
"Is the food already spoiled?" Dycron sniffed the food. "I don't think it came from here."
"Dycron. Did someone come here?"
He continued sniffing his feet, assuring he didn't step into something unpleasant. "Nope. Are you waiting for your father?" he said and pointed to the small box TV. "There are notes on the TV." It seemed important and could be his. Maybe he was here before we came."
Notes? Enear looked at the two small notes buried under the necklace. His brows furrowed. It was only a piece when he left this room days ago. Was it here before the meteor strike? No, it couldn't be possible in such a short period of time.
"Please! Help me!"
"I'll go and check it!" Dycron said quickly and rushed outside.
But why would his father leave another note for him? The signals were down, so it could be a mission. Or maybe, he was just simply caring about him. He shook his head. That was the last thing that his father would do. Enear reached the note to open. The first one was printed in a QR code. He scanned it and listened to the beeps of his smartwatch.
- .... . / .-. --- -
"W-What's happening? Are you okay? C-Can you stand up?" he heard Dycron's voice from the outside.
"My husband… I thought he already died…" the woman told Dycron, "But suddenly–"
-. .- .. ... . ... / - .... . / -.. . .- -.. --..--
"Suddenly what?" Dycron asked.
"He rose up… starving."
-... ..- - / .-- .... .- - / .-. . - ..- .-. -. ... / .. ... -. .-..-. - / .... ..- -- .- -.
Enear rushed on the floor, and threw out the blanket to start digging immediately with his knife. He pulled a suitcase from the ground and sat as he opened the case to assemble the gun parts.
"I-I'm hungry too."
"We have nutripacks and water. Wait, I'll get you some–"
"No. Don't leave. I'm sick of those. . . I want...something different."
The metals clanked simultaneously quickly as he assembled the pieces together in a rush. When it was completed, he installed a scope above, attached his knife as a bayonet, loaded a bullet, and dropped the rest in his pocket. He rushed outside the compacted street and saw a lady in ragged torn clothes, crawling on the ground to Dycron. His friend was trying to step back, but her hands clawed at his uniform.
"D-Different?"
"Meat."
"M-Meat? W-We have no meat. Such things do not exist anymore."
"It was right before my eyes–"
"Dycron, get away from her," Enear said, aiming the gun at the stranger.
Dycron looked at him with widening eyes. "E-Enear? What are you holding? W-Why are you pointing that–"
"Meat!" the lady cried and jumped to Dycron.
- .... . / .-. --- - / .-. .- .. ... . ... / - .... . / -.. . .- -.. --..-- / -... ..- - / .-- .... .- - / .-. . - ..- .-. -. ... / .. ... -. .-..-. - / .... ..- -- .- -.
The rot raises the dead, but what returns isn't human.
Quintessence Nightmare | Huniyango