As it turned out, sentences to death could be the start of a new beginning,
A speck of snow plastered onto Luke’s pale face, adding to the natural trembling someone would experience who had just avoided death.
The ropes behind him, formerly attached to a tree, were rubbed to shreds by his tireless efforts over the past hours. Above humanity’s problems, an uncaring sunset slowly sunk against the rolling snow-capped hills behind Luke. Dropped military rifles lay within the snow piles, boot shaped snow tracks showing the presence of dozens of men. Yet none could be seen within any direction.
All except Luke, a captured soldier, moments from execution by firing squad.
From surrounded by many, albeit enemies, to…to…
Being alone.
Struggling to his feet, Luke attempted to vainly brush off the snow pilling up on his military fatigues. His steel-toe forest green boots crunched the snow beneath.
“It’s happened again, another vanishing.” Trying to suppress a shake in his voice, Luke continued, “Please let there be someone left.”
An emotional storm raged within Luke: relief at surviving what should have been his death and fear at the potential loss of what he held most dear.
“For the love of god, let Dad still be around.”
Shaking it off, and as the Sergeant would put it, ‘to embrace the suck’, Luke gathered what guns he could carry. Each set to safe, only the primary rifle for his own use loaded, but plenty of spare ammo with what cartridges he could carry.
Since the global weather disasters ended the international community, manufacturing had all but ceased. Making spare guns, even as a soldier in the Abductionists faction, a pure luxury. You were issued what was required, rarely more.
Checking his six, Luke shifted over to cover. Minutes passed, as he kept track of his surroundings.
Whispering, he said, “Still no one,” resolving that staying here forever would result in freezing to death, Luke got a move on, sticking to the nearby tree line, always aware, stressed, and sensitive to the slightest change.
A rabbit scurried out of its burrow, disturbed by Luke’s passage nearby, in reaction, Luke aimed the gun, followed the rabbit’s path, placed his finger over the trigger, and only stopped a millisecond from firing. The image of a blown rabbit carcass was imprinted on the young soldier’s mind. Sometimes reflective training could be a curse.
“Letting my nerves get the best of me.” Using the technique to talk to himself in the third person removed the immediacy of his situation, “Calm down, Luke, calm down. Let’s figure out where we are first.”
The soldier quickly scanned the area to avoid the risk of going snowblind from increasing snowfall. Going for quick action, he began to follow the tracks, to his luck this led to a blue-black Humvee. Managing to get inside, Luke set to work. Tampering with the ignition, Luke attempted to get it to start, yet no sputter could be heard.
Of course, no keys could be found, but Luke picked up on the fact that the vehicle refused to operate in the slightest. Not normal, even with hot wiring far from perfect, the ignition should’ve roared to life in the failed attempts.
Leaning back into the leather seat, the soldier warmed his hands as best he could. Once staying in the Jeep only made him colder, Luke opened the door, and began a long walk back home, trusting the vague directional sense. He’d been deployed and living in this area for months now, with a memorable snow-coated landmark or two, he reached a main road, trudging back to New Hope, the city he was stationed in, also where his dad happened to live.
Over the following hours, the sunlight died and night came, various dead cars were on the road, and to his knowledge, plenty would be littered in land mines. Occasionally Luke would attempt to get a vehicle to start, but the same stonewall came with each try, none would start, sparks would fly, but it was like the power refused to move.
As if the world no longer followed the same natural laws. Worst still, any signs of human life had vanished without a trace. In a sense, Luke battled feelings of exile. Finally, New Hope rose into sight, with the soldier closer than expected due to it being the dead of night, and light snow falling all around. The conditions reducing visibility damn near had the city sneak up on him.
At times Luke thought to stop and warm himself, but a hunger drove him forward, what did being cold matter? He wanted to find someone. Anyone.
Stepping into the city limits, more of the same greeted Luke, dead cars, this time with no real danger of land mines, gray, lifeless concrete buildings, barbed wire, and barricades at every intersection it seemed like.
The typical posts where other soldiers would be were empty. The few work zones had not a soul. Makeshift tents that often hosted the homeless, displaced by humanity struggling against extreme weather disasters, and people disappearing at unsustainable rates, stood uselessly in open areas, sheltering none from the winds or snow.
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Killing any rising distress, Luke made his way to one location: his dad’s apartment. As for getting in, should his dad be asleep or worse, Luke knew where a spare key was hidden under a nearby pot.
Always observant of the surroundings, Luke took note of the cracks in every corner and the tracks in the snow; the nighttime limited more significant observation. Half an hour later, he came upon the fated building, going up to number 103, he lifted a dead plant pot, snatched the bronze-colored key, and jammed it into the poorly maintained brown door.
Upon seeing the empty apartment, full of items, yet void of any other life, a singular thought popped into Luke’s mind.
So, Dad, you left me behind too, huh? Fuck.
Clutching at his head, damn near pulling out his back hair in the process Luke screamed, “FUCK. FUCK. NOT YOU TOO.”
The soldier allowed himself to punch a hole into the wall, before shutting off the emotions within. Would anger help here? How about the slight fear? The anxiety? No, none of it would.
That wasn’t his job, his priority, and now, not important for how to survive.
With the final sign of disappointment, Luke got to work the town was empty, or damn near about. Either way, from his near execution spot to the apartment his dad used to live in, not a single soul was seen.
Luke had heard of vanishing waves taking entire towns, regions even, and part of him hoped this was the case. That someone else was on this Earth too. The unknown tried to smother the soldier.
Regardless, he dealt with it, almost mechanically. First, Luke scoured the slightly messy apartment, confirming his dad’s absence. A fresh-scented candle had been lit, what looked like minutes ago. There were no signs of struggle within the cramped apartment.
The brown couch had fold marks from someone’s weight having been applied to it for a time. On tan thin walls hung pictures of Luke with his father often hung in their corners.
On came the next priority, Luke checked the radio static being his only return signal, regardless of frequency. He dialed a home phone, yet no numbers could be reached, the television had a few working stations before, but none now.
Freaking out would do little good. The soldier took stock of the food; plenty was canned within the cabinets, and power managed to run weakly within the fridge, but there was no telling for how long. Aware of the time of night and snow building around the city, Luke prioritized one more task before sleep, checking other apartments for possible survivors of the latest people vanishing round.
Quickly and efficiently, Luke knocked from door to door, paying attention to every apartment. Even when failing to receive an answer, he tended to put an ear to the door, trying to hear any audible movement inside.
There were none.
Tired of the cold, and accepting the inevitable, Luke returned to his dad’s apartment, undressed, and fell onto the warm enough bed. Coming to admit that he likely had no one to rely on but himself, Luke cut any extraneous thought and fell asleep.
As one forcibly molded by discipline often tended to do, Luke fell into something of a routine. Secure food, search the city for survivors, procure protection, keep warm, and so on. Tamper with a car, fail to start it, tamper with a radio, fail to find any signal. In a sense, the whole world had gone dead, except that wasn’t totally true.
Crows scattered about on street lights, stray dogs often bared their teeth at Luke, and other animals adjusted to the urban environment scattered about. At least the snow had stopped, that rarely stopped the wind chill from cutting to Luke’s bones.
With all the setbacks, Luke kept at the routine anyway, weeks into it, he was walking into a park, when an unexpected sight caught his attention. A nest had fallen out of the tree, with it rumbling about, weak chirps coming from underneath.
Taking out an army knife, just in case, Luke approached, wary of the unkempt tree scrubs surrounding the trees within the park. The soldier slowly flipped up the displaced nest, egg shells were strewn about, most catching, however, was a baby crow staring right back at him. Its feathers tar black, eyes showing a spark of intelligence.
Crouching down to the helpless Luke, the animal greeted him with a mix of gurglings and wines. Occasionally, a sort of ‘waa’ sound emerged from its small, underdeveloped beak.
“Hungry are we? What do you say you come with me? Can’t promise I know how to care for a baby bird, but it’s not like I lack the time to learn.”
The crow answered all the same with another ‘waa’ sound, flowing from a birdish whine. Despite the feathers, the poor animal shivered from the cold. Gently reaching, then cupping the baby bird into his palms, Luke attempted to help warm it.
Looking up into the gray clouds dominating the sky above, Luke could see black smoke columns in the distance toward his safe point, the apartment, an idea struck the man.
Revealing a faint smirk, Luke said, “I think I’ll call you Sooty, welcome to the family. From the looks of it, it’s going to be us, against the world, little buddy.”
A year had passed since that fateful day, that is, when Luke avoided death by firing squad, due to the soldiers ordered to do so vanishing at the most inopportune moment.
Well, for them anyway, for Luke it was none other than the best moment possible. By this time, Luke had scraped every inch of the city, and stockpiles of canned food crowded the apartment’s kitchen. As he expected, the power had died out months ago. He sat in his typical civilian wear, an attempt at feeling normal again. Luke’s trusty knife was never far, however, lying in his lap.
Firewood had become his best friend—outside the apartment of course—that was a lie actually, Sooty was his real best friend now. And the only reason he’d managed to stay sane from a year’s isolation.
“Where did all you bastards go? Why leave me behind? What caused all this?”
Sooty rubbed up against Luke, perched on his shoulder, “Don’t mind my ramblings, Sooty. I’m grateful you’re here.”
Someday, I’ll find where you all went to, mark my words.
Persistence had rewards, and Luke was about to receive the first of many. A message invaded his mind, words distorted silver, like a connection was struggling to be stable.
[The Last, you have been called upon as previously agreed. Forcible transfer to Ludus initializing, please wait]
Surprised, Luke spoke out, “Called? For what? When did I get chosen?” Luke instinctively held Sooty close when the mention of a ‘Forcible transfer’ came up in the foreign connection. “Who is this? Let me tell you, I ain’t losing my family a third time you twisted-”
Perhaps laughing at the futile struggle of one young man, a reddish vortex swallowed Luke whole, his bird companion included. The force warped and twisted, rejecting the knife its victim had, the cold manufactured metal falling to the floor, stabbing into the wood.
All that remained, was emptiness, the last man on Earth, gone to a realm unknown.