Chapter 1

Chapter One

Past and Present

"This is not the end!"

I paused for a moment to stare at the rusty TV through the cracked and broken window of an abandoned appliance store. Half the screen was a painting of colored static, but for brief moments I could still see one of the old politicians confidently declaring from a podium that,

"This is not the end! War will not be the end of humanity, but a new beginning! We will join together with our allies and repel our enemies!"

I couldn't help but smile at the sentiment. This recording was well before my time, back when America was still an independent country, and all of Europe was broken up into pieces of cultures and peoples. Back when people were free, and war was just an idea.

Now, the Consortium governed all of Europe, Russia, Asia, and India while the United Guardian Alliance controlled Greenland and North and South America. Australia and Africa were nearly abandoned due to the constant battles raging inside their borders, while Antarctica and the Artic had been christened no man's land long ago.

The Consortium and the United Guardian Alliance had been at war ever since some rebels from the almost-forgotten country of Russia destroyed all of America's nuclear weapons over the course of a few years. The now-defenseless country was forced to ally with Brazil to fight back, and they, in turn, decimated Russia. Russia turned to its neighboring countries and one by one the rest of the countries took sides until there were but two left: The Consortium and the United Guardian Alliance.

I was just glad that all the nuclear weapons had been used up years before my birth.

The threat of redesigning the weapons had made both sides race to remake them first, but with neither side successful.

"Yet," I mumbled to myself.

The looming threat hovered over every head like a hot air balloon of destruction just waiting to explode.

"Kora!"

I turned from the TV to where my best friend Xyli was running up to me. Panting, she pulled the sweaty rubber gas mask off her face to speak more clearly.

"Kora, you gotta come quick! That brother of mine is just about to get himself pounded by the Scorpions! That leader of them is arguing with him, the son of a Taco Truck, Imma wring his scrawny neck!"

I groaned. The Scorpions were a gang that ruled most of the ruined New York City. The head of the Scorpions ran things from one of the only protected cities left, Las Vegas.

Everyone knew that he was the founder of the black-market supplies dealerships all across the country, but everyone also knew that he was working with the government, and they looked the other way. Besides, people reasoned, but it was never proved, and anyone who said so tended to disappear, so it was better to do nothing about it.

The leader, who called himself Red Scorpion, assigned gang leaders in different cities to run the black market, but most of the time the gangs were found bullying the underground colonies of survivors who made their homes in abandoned subway terminals, away from the constant barrage of shells, explosives, and gas.

Most young men were recruited or threatened into joining one of these gangs, as rival gangs and rebellions were quickly snuffed out. In the case of Xyli's brother, however, he had not only refused to join the Scorpions, but he was also constantly fighting them for supplies.

"Seriously, Xy, it's like the third time this week," I voiced my concerns, "I thought Zoltan agreed to stay away from the Scorpions!"

I had, in the past, warned Zoltan about his actions, but even I couldn't argue that the extra gas mask filters, fresh water, and food he brought back to our colony in the third avenue subway terminal were a great help.

"He did promise to stay clear of them," Xyli defended her brother, "But then the electricity nearly went out in the colony, and he broke into the Scorp's electrical control places and tried to hook up our colony's lines. Are you coming or what?"

"Fine!"

I slung my backpack from over my shoulder and pulled my black gas mask out of the front pocket. I held it right under my chin as I fastened the straps around the back of my head. I took a deep breath before pulling the mask over my face.

Once upon a time, I had been afraid of the tight mask, and claustrophobic when I put it on. But after years of being forced to wear the rubber headgear, I hardly cared.

"You're wearing yours, right? The Scorp's territory is Code Yellow," I asked my friend, my voice muffled and lower than usual as it projected through the filter.

Xyli looked at her gas mask. I knew that she was still a little nervous about them, ever since one of her friends, Velvet, had suffocated. Velvet's filter had gotten clogged and her straps stuck so she couldn't breathe or take the mask off. Xyli was terrified that it would happen to her and changed her filter two or three times a day, while I changed mine once a day.

"Since when?" Xyli asked, referring to my comment about the Scorpion's section of town being Code Yellow.

"They upgraded it after sunrise. The Consortium Air Force dropped a few shells of phosgene over their streets this morning."

Xyli shuddered.

"That's the fourth time shells have been in the city. You'd have thought we'd be safer..."

I knew what she was referring to. Xyli was one who still believed that the government was helping protect us. Just last week they'd issued another order to protect the big cities from shells. They made decrees like that to keep up morale and discourage rebellion. Nothing ever came from them. I didn't want to tell that to Xyli, though. Hope and faith were scarce lately. I wouldn't be the one to kill hers.

"The big cities are never safe," I told her, and changed the subject, "Put your mask on. Let's go."

I didn't wait for her; we both knew the way, and it was safer to travel alone.

My black boots clicked on the cracked pavement streets, and I had to dodge around ruined buildings and gaping potholes. Rats stood boldly on the path before me, used to the presence of humans, but scurried away as some mangy, hungry dogs tore after them hoping for a meal. I stopped for a moment to peer into a hole that seemed to go down forever: the remnants of a sewage line exposed by some explosion. Litter poured from abandoned parking lots and into the streets. Shells of cars lined the roads. Behind them, the collapsed pieces of what had once been shining New York City lay forgotten, filled with animals and bugs that had made it their home.

Here and there I jumped bits of debris, tugging at my mask to make sure it was secularly in place.

War had destroyed most of the world. The governments kept making promises for a better future, for repairs, for something. Nothing changed.

Most big cities were reduced to rubble by the war that had stretched for an eternity. Military supplies were used up in the first few years as both sides destroyed resources. Now the two societies fought with what few weapons they had left. Man-to-man fights with armies and guns were mostly in Africa and Australia, as both sides tried to win precious oil, gold, precious metal, and uranium supplies that the two continents held. Generals and politicians waited to see who got there first, for it was that side that could make new weapons and possibly win the war. The government leaders tried to rally the people and armies to help capture these supplies, but most civilians just didn't care anymore. They wanted the war to be over, or at least find a safe place for their families. No one even remembered what the war had been about. But everyone remembered their dead loved ones.

To decrease the civilian's morale and possibly turn them against their governments, both sides attacked cities and people with whatever they had. After using up most of the shells early on, and destroying most big cities in the process, both of the air forces reverted to gas. Mustard gas was the favorite because it could be taken in through the skin but supplies of mustard gas were running out. Most of the shells now were full of phosgene, which didn't do too much damage because it could be easily avoided with a gas mask, but now and then we'd get news of a mustard gas shell and a colony dead. Though, most colonies were too concerned with protecting themselves to take notice of the fates of others.

Ducking into an alleyway between the two remains of brick buildings, I stopped for breath. Above me, in faded ink almost too pale to see in the electric glow to flickering streetlights, was a poster.

I stared at it through my gas mask, my breathing echoing in my ears. The picture on the poster was a gas mask, made to look like an elephant. The elephant-mask was holding a big clump of hay. The poster read, in bright, big letters, "Smells like musty hay, or green corn- PHOSGENE! Wear your mask!"

Beside it was another with a discolored image of a man in a gas mask and the words, "Smells like garlic, horseradish, mustard, strong vesicant, MUSTARD GAS! Mask up!"

Posters like these were put up long ago to protect citizens. Nowadays alerts were sent remotely to places where the deadly gas could be. At least, they were sent to everyone lucky enough to have a government-distributed tablet. Which, now, was only those rich and powerful, those close to the government.

I reached my hands out to the poster, but I couldn't feel the paper through my leather gloves. I wondered what it must have been like back when the war first started. When people didn't know how to use a gas mask, or what a demolished building looked like. Back when people had to learn what gases smelled like, and hospitals could save victims. Back when the politicians' promises meant something, and change was possible. I wondered if they had known then what was going to happen. I wondered if they'd think all this was worth it.

"Kora, let's go!"

Xyli had caught up to me. I nodded, and we ran together.

@ @ @

"So, you think you can just waltz into our part of town and take our electricity, do you?" Dion's voice was low and muffled through the gas mask.

"Our bunker's electricity ran out yesterday, Dion, come on. You have more than enough," Zoltan protested to the stoic leader of the Third Avenue Scorpions.

"Oh, yeah? I'll have you know that it takes a lot of electricity to keep the peace around here! I need all I can get!"

"Keep the peace?" Zoltan scoffed, "All you do is bully survivors, steal food, and stuff yourselves. You're using up supplies that could help the rest of us. Kids are dying, Dion, because you're hogging all the food or water, or power! The fans circulating the air in our colonies are rusted through. But where are all the newer ones? Or the supplies to fix them? You have them!"

Dion exaggeratedly yawned.

"Are you done with your passionate speech? Look here, buddy, we Scorpions are just trying to survive."

"Yeah? Well, survive this!"

Zoltan lunged at Dion, tackling him onto the cracked pavement. Holding Dion down with his knees, Zoltan pulled his clenched fist back, ready to break Dion's nose. The rest of the Scorpions rushed to assist their leader but Dion, an old expert in street fights, headbutted Zoltan and shoved him off. Zoltan's head exploded into stars, but he pulled himself off the paved ground. Dion stood too, his face bright red with fury.

Zoltan was just about to rush Dion again when a voice stopped him.

"Zoltan, stop!"

Zoltan groaned as he saw who it was.

"Xyli, what are you doing here?"

"Stopping you from killing yourself," Xyli called, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm doing just fine! Hey, Kora," Zoltan said, breaking from his argument to throw a greeting in my direction.

"Zoltan." I nodded back.

"I'm doing just fine!" Zoltan repeated to his sister, before turning to where Dion and his gang were laughing.

"You girls come to see the slaughter?" Dion flexed his muscles and took a step toward Zoltan.

"Come on, Dion, please, leave him alone!" Xyli pleaded, her child-like innocence amusing the hardened street gang and making me wince; I should have left her behind.

"Leave him alone!" They mocked Xyli, closing in on Zoltan.

One of them, a tall red-haired kid who went by the name Fox, took a step toward Xyli, remarking, "Hey, she's kind of pretty- "

Fox was cut off as Zoltan threw himself into him yelling, "Don't you talk to my sister that way!"

Pandemonium broke loose.

All the Scorpions were immediately on top of Zoltan, but he was giving as good as he got. Xyli was crying and yelling for it to stop, which only added to the chaos.

Standing to one side, I logically surveyed my options.

Option one, jump headlong into a twelve-to-one fight to support my friend and probably get killed. Option two...

I shrugged.

Nah.

And jumped in. 

~Author's Note~ For best effect, listen to This is Not the End by Fieldwork on repeat while reading this story.  Thanks, and enjoy!