When an Overseer comes to your door it’s usually not a good thing. They're not coming to have a small chat or stopping by for a drink. Where the Overseers go, trouble usually follows. So, when I opened my door to find not just one, but three Overseers I was understandably not thrilled. It probably also had something to do with the fact that my little sister was watching the lady that we had tied up not even fifteen feet behind me. So it’s moments like this that I was thankful for the sweltering heat. It thankfully hid the nervous sweat that I broke into the moment I heard an Overseer was at the door.
I carefully open the door and I see three Overseers standing before me. If you’ve seen one Overseer, you’ve seen them all. They wear clean white uniforms. A service cap, long-sleeve button-down shirt, cloth gloves, cargo pants, and hardened leather boots. They have a black baton and a simple pistol on their belt. Their hat and shirt have an embroidered golden phoenix. The only visible symbol of their authority and where they get it. The Last Bastion. The governing body that controls The Edge. They picked a phoenix for their symbol because it went well with their slogan “From The Ashes. We Rise.”, it’s supposed to be motivational. I see it as it is. A threat, a thinly veiled one at that. I always liked the complete version that makes the rounds “From The Ashes Of The Old World. We Rise As One Or Fall Together”. The Overseers are their attack dogs. They make sure the price is paid.
The dark-skinned Overseer in front of me is a large man with broad shoulders and stands at least one head above me. It forces me to look up to him. His name tag says “D. North'' and has two golden lines above his tag. A captain. Behind him stands a light brown woman with a painted smile and empty eyes. Her name tag says “A. Trist” and has three white lines on top of each other. A sergeant. Far back where you can barely see him in the low light, stands a dark brown skinny man who's smaller than me, but has a green strip above his name tag which says “A. Bosch”. It unsettles me, it would unsettle anyone who understands what it means. A green strip signifies a Life Ripper. They can rip you away from the jaws of death or they can rip your life away. They don’t need a rank, their deadliness speaks for itself.
The few remaining Life Rippers were moved to the growing zones like Gravity Wells #9 and #11. The rest were sent to Gravity Wells #1 and #7 to heal the higher-ups' paper cuts. What’s one doing here? Also, most Overseers you see all the way out here are grunts, not captains or sergeants. Something really big is going on.
Overseer North is the first to address me. “Mr. Brooks, we do apologize for interrupting your much-needed rest, but it is of grave importance.” His gray eyes trace past me and he continues to talk. “Are you alone tonight, Mr. Brooks?”
I feel my heart race and my face go pale. “No, my sister is in the kitchen. She’s preparing some food for tomorrow. What can I help you with Overseer North?”
He waits a calculated amount of time to answer. He wants to throw me off, he wants me scared. He revels in the torture that his job entails, I can see it in his eyes. All Overseers are the same. I may be scared, but I can’t afford to be thrown off. “Tomorrow your presence will be required in the center. Your supervisor has been notified that you will be absent. This will not affect your ration cards. If you fail to arrive at the center, we will deem you to be a deserter. Do you understand, Mr. Brooks?”
I make sure to not meet his eyes when I answer. They take any offense no matter how small and twist it to fit their twisted sense of justice. “I understand Overseer North.”
He gives a slightly dissatisfied sneer as he pulls at his gloves. “Well then, we will leave you to rest.”
The moment he turns to leave I hear a loud clattering behind me. My face goes pale and my blood goes cold. I give a quick look over my shoulder and see nothing. The slight light is the only thing I can make out below the curtain that separates the bedroom and kitchen. My mind races at the thought of what the sound could mean. Did she escape and attack Maple? Is Maple fine? Should I tell the Overseers, maybe they could help? My thoughts are interrupted by Overseer North. “Is everything okay, Mr. Brooks?” Overseer Trist puts her hand near her gun and I see the glowing green eyes of Overseer Bosch. Like a predator in the dark.
I clear my mind and speak with a clear tone. “Yes. My sister is quite clumsy and makes a racket when she cooks. I do apologize for the worry it caused.” His gray eyes search me again. This time his face drops the fake smile and brings forth his true face. A face of death and indifference. His cold icy stare searches into me. He’s trying to see if I’m worth his time and if I’ll sate his appetite for tonight.
The friendly smile that doesn’t reach his eyes comes back. “Well tell her to keep it down. It’s late.” I give a quick nod and close the front door. I let a deep sigh out and put my head against the now-closed door. I got lucky. I hate that word. I turn to the kitchen and carefully pull the curtain back. The chair is empty and the cloth restraints are smoldering on the ground. Maple lays face down on the ground, she doesn’t seem to have any visible wounds. Then as a quick flash of silver passes in my vision, I duck down and throw myself into the kitchen.
The dull thud of the knife hitting the stone wall echoes throughout the kitchen. I look back to see our resident attempted murderer wielding one of our kitchen knives. I grab the frying pan by Maple and make sure she's still breathing. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maple take a long deep breath and for a brief moment a small amount of relief washes over me. It doesn’t last long. I’ve been in a couple of fights in my life. None were of my choice and all of them were for some resource. They usually wanted my ration cards, sometimes my clothes, more often than not, they wanted to blow off some steam. Tempers run high when you're low on sleep, water, food, and the dry heat certainly doesn’t help. So, when the knife slashes towards me faster than any tired person I’ve met before, I barely manage to bring up the frying pan to deflect it. The next part comes naturally. I take my leg and give her a swift kick to the chest. She’s thrown back and finds herself back where she started, but she stops short of slamming into the wall behind her. I grab the frying pan and go into a wide swing. She takes the bait and takes a swing into my exposed stomach. I take a swing downwards and slam her knife hand downwards. A loud smack is heard, but I don’t hear a clang. The knife now in her other hand cuts at my upper chest. The sting and warmth of blood running down my chest causes me to take a half step back. Except I don’t find my footing as she hooks my foot with hers and uses my weight against me. I find myself in a familiar position as last time. Except this time I manage to get my hands out from underneath her before she can fully pin me. She plunges the knife down towards where my heart is. I manage to grab her hands before she can draw blood. The pain in my chest worsens as I push myself to stop the blade from plunging into my chest. She pushes almost all her weight into the blade and it inches closer until it’s pushing into my ribs. I look up into her eyes and I see them shift into a red glow.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I whisper through my hard breaths. “Sand Scorcher.” They have the ability to control fire and withstand extreme heat. Where Life Rippers are scalpels, Sand Scorchers are flamethrowers. The few remaining Sand Scorches are raiders in the Sands. So it’s a surprise when embers from the now burnt restraints spring to life and wrap like amber snakes around her arms. The fire coalesces around the handle of the blade and starts to give the blade an extra set of thrust. This time the blade pushes into my chest and draws blood.
I have no other choice, if I die here what will happen to Maple? I feel the hum of the city around me and the small trickle of electricity flowing through the house. I close my eyes and focus on drawing it towards me. The light flickers in the kitchen as I push past the pain of the knife in my chest. I hold strong onto her hands and the knife. I feel the energy within me well up for the first time in years. I open my eyes and I can see her look of surprise as she tries to pull back from my grasp, but I keep ahold of her. The air crackles with white static. “Lightning Weaver.” She says it with a tinge of surprise.
I let go of the build-up of energy and let it surge through me and into her. I feel alive, as if the world around me was dull and now it feels vibrant and alive. The shock of the charge sends her flying backward into the wall behind her and she crashes down with a thud. I sit bleeding across from her as she groans from the floor. I grab the knife and slide it back behind me. The lights stop flickering as I let go of the charge within. The world around me goes dull again, but I don’t have time to worry about that. “So, are we done fighting? Because you’ve lost the last two fights against me. Just saying.” I prop myself up next to Maple and keep my eyes on the groaning women.
She slowly props herself up across from me and tries to catch her breath before speaking. “Technically the first one was her win, not yours and I think we’ll make too much noise if we fight again.” A small smirk crosses her face and her eyes go back to a hazel color.
I put pressure on the gash on my chest. The pain stings again and for a brief second the light flickers again. It’s always harder to reel it back in after keeping it in for so long. “Let’s not look too closely at who won and who lost. So, are you a raider? Also, don’t tell me technically you aren’t one.”
She's still reeling from the shock I gave her, but she seems to be bouncing back faster than I thought. “First off, I'm not a raider. I’m an officer of Thales and from what I can tell you’re the criminal here.”
Thales, I recognize that name. That’s where the headless Charlie was from. Things are all over the place and they are not making sense. She’s a Sand Scorcher, but she's not a raider. She claims to be from a city I don’t recognize and she’s also an officer. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happening. “How many times do I have to tell you, I am not a criminal. I didn’t kill your friend Charlie and I only tied you up because you're the one who attacked me! If I had known you were a Sand Scorcher I would have left you out in the Sands. So, instead of calling me a criminal, why don’t you thank me for not letting the Overseers catch you.”
She shifts in place and puts on an angry face. Her hazel eyes look me over, searching for something. You can hear the gears turn in her before she speaks. “Where am I and why do you keep calling me a Sand Scorcher?”
I look at her and find that she has a worried look on her face. It makes me cautious “You’re in Gravity Well #10 and I call you Sand Scorcher because that’s what you are. You know the red eyes and the fire powers.” I wave my hands around to mimic the fire snakes.
She slowly rubs her temple and then takes a long deep sigh. “I don’t recognize any of the terms you just said. It sounds like a bunch of gibberish. Also, you would think that a Lightning Weaver would recognize a Fire Weaver. I take it we aren’t in Thales?”
As she talks I concentrate on reeling back the still surging power within me. The crackle of electricity still bounces on my skin. “No, we aren’t in Thales. I didn’t even know what Thales was until today. I saw the name for the first time when I stole your friend Charlie’s I.D. Also, I don’t know what a Lightning Weaver is but around here we call them Live Wires and just like Sand Scorchers we aren’t welcomed here. So, how about we relax and work out what's wrong?”
“Alright, fine. I’ve never heard of Gravity…, whatever you called it and you haven’t heard of Thales. Which is a pretty big place not to have heard of. So, are we in some secluded area of the world where you wouldn’t have heard of Thales before?” She races through a variety of possibilities and remains oddly calm now that she isn’t trying to kill me.
“Secluded is a word that you could use to describe where we are at. We are at a place we call The Edge. It’s the only place where civilization still prospers, well unless you call what the raiders in the Sands and Frost live in civilization. They’re more like anarchists who are well past their expiration date. Not like us, our expiration date keeps getting pushed back. We’re buying time until the bigwigs find out the next promising experiment to restart the planet. Does any of this sound familiar?” I spit out the basic facts of life half-heartedly, trying to say a phrase or idea that we can connect with.
Her face grows fearful and I see her sweat for the first time. “What is the name of this world?” She barely manages to whisper out the question. Her hazel eyes lock with mine, hoping—no—fearing for the answer to come.
“Earth. Gaia. Terra. Pick one. It’s had many names over the ages. Nowadays we just call it our Prison. What do you call it?” I look as she shakes her head slowly and brings her hand to her temple.
Her black hair eclipses her face for a moment before she casts a look at me. “No. This can’t be real. You can’t be real. That’s right. It’s not real. You’re not a Lightning Weaver, you’re a Mind Weaver. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re messing with my mind. You’re trying to get me to let my guard down!”
Mind Weaver? I think I’m starting to connect some pieces together. She’s talking about a Heart Render. Dangerous folk. They can dance around in your mind and take anything that they want, even your deepest secrets. They can also make you see things, hallucinations indistinguishable from reality. They were all either killed or brought into the fold as Overseers. They’re so unsettling that their stories alone are enough to steer most people far from their path. Whatever she’s realized is so crazy that she believes me to be a Heart Render. I have to snap her out of it. “Get yourself together. Think about your experiences since you’ve met me. Heart Renders are good but even they can’t keep up their illusions after having sustained this much damage. Do you remember that shock I gave you? That certainly felt real, didn’t it? So, just take a second and then tell me what has gotten you thrown out of sorts.”
The red glowing eyes that started to form slowly dimmed back to a warm hazel color. She takes a second to answer, but she's still on guard. “I come from a place called Primordium. A world on top of a world. It’s the world my people escaped to when our previous world died. A disease had ravaged its way throughout our previous world. The bodies filled the street, the people grew frantic and paranoid. They were looking for someone to blame. So, they choose us. We could see the end coming. So, we ran. The old families created a one-time bridge to our new world and we took it. At least that’s what the old stories say.”
This time it’s my turn to wonder if a Heart Render is in my mind. When my dad taught me who and what we were, I barely believed him then. She’s speaking of The Exodus. The turning point in our history. When the balance of this world was shattered. The reason why this world stopped in its tracks. “What was the name of this dying world?”
She takes a moment to recollect herself before answering my question. “Earth.”