Rohan

Thursday, June 9th, 2022 (79 days after the Shutdown)

Death was an inevitable fact of life but never had it seemed so certain. The barrier the Sorrows had formed around the school was undisturbed after a week, and a week was all it took for the situation within to become precarious.

It was a miracle that things had lasted this long in the first place, but the human instinct for self-preservation was a constant companion. The day after it rained, their entire food stock had vanished and a majority of the water they’d caught had been drained. And they couldn’t send scouts to check the surrounding areas or scavengers to retrieve food. Yet that wasn’t the biggest event.

One person had taken that instinct for self-preservation further than Rohan taught possible and assorted to murder. The victim was a soldier and when the culprit was caught, their pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears.

Major Hogue enforced stricter policies. Not even administrators who’d come with the military personnel were exempt from the rules as they were technically civilians.

No one could move without the permission of a soldier, and the price for stealing or any other crime was public execution by means of the Sorrows. Thankfully for him, Private Molino had been assigned to him and Daliah, but for others, the leash had tightened. People who’d previously been ill due to malnutrition or dehydration were ignored and a day later, the smell of the corpses hung heavily in the medical wing. Rumors spread about how their deaths had been ordered.

That was the spark that set the school aflame.

The hierarchy that placed the soldiers at the top crumbled as fights broke out in the halls. Barricading himself in Room 212, most days he heard the grunts and muffled cries as people senselessly pummeled one another over the scant resources. It took the death of the biology teacher, Mrs. Crouch, who was recognized as a pillar of etiquette for the infighting to stop. Ever since then, the scarcity of food finally drained them of the rest of their energy. People avoided one another and kept to the shadows.

The only person exempt from the mental breakdowns was Daliah, who giggled in all her childish innocence. He gave up cultivating his powers the moment she was dumped onto his doorstep because it was a herculean feat trying to concentrate when Daliah babbled to the Faeries or without notice broke out into fits of laughter.

Yet to others, she tethered them to reality; a beacon to preserve their sanity. The tactic was questionable but she had become an attraction people would visit a few hours a day, just to watch her chase around Faeries before returning to their seclusion. Forced to supervise the little gremlin by the major, Rohan’s frustration was offset by the morsels of food people gifted the child, which she shared with him and Molino.

Peering over the top of his book at the latest visitors, Laura and Peyton were playing cards while Daliah peeked over the edge with her big brown eyes, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Where on earth is she getting her energy from? he marveled when the sound of a door opening drew their attention.

Humming quietly to herself, Private Molino who’d returned from her meeting with her colleagues, ignored Rohan’s quizzical look as she picked up the squealing toddler. Something is off. Pretending to read his book, his suspicion was validated when he heard a few tentative steps outside the door. Molino shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her movement stiff and visibly uncomfortable.

When the person outside finally moved on, she looked up. “Pack your stuff now. You two as well.”

“Why?” Peyton asked, slamming down a winning hand, scaring off her Faeries. “Where are we going?”

“Out.” Her voice was curt and her shift in demeanor didn’t leave room for argument. Turning to Laura, who was already on her feet, she repeated her instructions.

She can’t mean outdoors. A quick glance outside was enough to tell anyone it was a dumb idea.

“It’s just a couple of clothes and some food. It’s in another room though. Do you want us to go get it?”

“No time. Grab something sharp from the tool chest and keep it hidden,” she continued, covering Daliah’s ears as she stared at the rest of them. Her words conveyed confidence though her eyes refused to meet them. “Go!”

Running to the tool chest, he grabbed the first thing he touched, a thin metal rod. Snatching a roll of duct tape, in a more private area he stripped off his pants and used copious amounts of the adhesive to bind it to his skin. With his pants around his knees, the door opened.

“Gym, now!” a soldier barked.

Awkwardly pulling his pants up out of view, the soldier marched towards him and grabbed him by the cuff of his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rohan yelled, pulling himself free of his grip. “I can fine on my own, dickhead.”

“Then move it, ghoul,” he spat back. Yelling at the rest of the people who were being hustled down the stairs like cattle, he roared, “Tick, tock! Let’s move those legs, folks!”

Being ignorant of the soldiers’ thoughts was unsettling, especially after the quarantine they were forced into. Glancing every few seconds to get some indication of what was about to happen, Molino’s face was impassive.

Led into the school’s foyer, the crowd had a weird juxtaposition. A few, like him, were alert from apprehension, while others chose that moment to show their anger. Shouting at the soldiers as they walked to the gym, there was a noticeable decrease in the number of soldiers.

“Major Hogue will explain everything shortly,” another soldier assured them, swatting away Faeries that had gravitated towards the growing stream of people.

It was Sergeant Braun, a man who had been part of the squad Rohan joined. Raising a hand to get his attention, Braun gave him a hard look. The food deficit had made his features become hollow and his eyes haunted.

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What’s with the look?

Looking around for an explanation, Private Molino had broken out of her impassive state and stared at him with wide eyes.

“DIVE”, she mouthed.

Gotcha. Dramatically leaning down to tie his shoes, a random soldier immediately pressed him.

“You can tie your shoes later. Move!”

Keeping his head down, Rohan nonchalantly said, “Sir, according to a new census, untied laces are responsible for more injuries than any other piece of clothing. I think it's in everyone's best interest for me to properly tie these— Ughhh!”

A boot slammed into his back, sending him falling head-first into the tiles. Rapping his head against the floor, anger woke him up fast.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll help motivate him to hurry up,” Molino declared, digging the toe of her boot into his ribs.

Molino?

Looking at each other, Braun pursed his lips. “Claire—”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Isiah, I’ll pick him up and bring him to the gym,” she promised, forcing Rohan’s face against the filth accrued on the floors from weeks of neglect.

A few who turned to look at the commotion gave him weird looks, not the soldiers who were assaulting him. Crackdowns became normalized through the threat of bullets and Sorrows, so though such meetings were an inconvenience for the hungry inhabitants of the school, everyone still complied in the end. Hearing the gym doors close seconds after the last of the crowd has rounded the corner, another soldier returned to examine the disruption.

“Then give me Daliah.”

Hesitating, the weight of her boot lessened.

No, what is there to think about? Give them the kid!

“But…” she said carefully, her voice losing its steel.

That wasn’t the answer they wanted to hear. As they lowered their hands to their holsters, Rohan chose that moment to act. The odds were stacked against him, 3 against 1, but they didn’t have what he had. Though the simplest movements caused others migraines, the second stage of his evolution gave him something similar to enhanced muscle regeneration. He’d hid his physique with baggy clothes and assimilated to not draw unnecessary attention, but he could overpower anyone right now.

Rolling out from under Private Molino’s foot, he tackled the legs of the furthest soldier. Caught off guard, the back of the soldier’s head slammed against the ground before he knew what was happening.

One down.

“Hey!”

Glad he’d taken out one of them his joy was short-lived when he spun and saw two guns pointed at him. Peyton and Laura, who’d hung back, started to back away but Braun froze them in place with a glare.

“Don’t even think about moving,” he warned, enunciating each word.

Leveling her own sidearm at Braun, Molino pleaded with him. “Braun, let us walk away from this. This won’t ruin the plan.”

“Us? It’s ‘us’ now, eh? Don’t be a bitch, Claire. You’re telling me you would rather side with them than survive with us? If it's the kid you want, I’ll vouch for you with the major and try to convince her. All you have to do is lower your gun.”

Picking up on the hints they were dropping, the soldiers’ extreme behavior made so much more sense to Rohan. They were planning to abandon school. In retrospect, if they knew what awaited them they could’ve managed a clean escape but that option was lost to them. Even with food diminishing and water vanishing, they’d grown complacent because of the shelter the school provided. If they wanted to escape, they needed a diversion to lure the Sorrows away. The people in the gym.

Shrill cries for mercy answered his suspicions, and the haunting Death Cries of the Sorrows followed suit.

“Fuck, those idiots were supposed to wait.” Turning off his safety, Braun looked at Molino. “Last chance, come with us or die.”

The noises in the gym had started to die off as only a few remained unclaimed by the Sorrows.

“Rohan.”

Her gaze locked onto his. Now.

Ducking under the outstretched arm of the other soldier, bullets whisked over his head. Realizing what Rohan wanted to do, the soldier backed up and brought out his knife to swipe at him. But his weaponry was useless if he didn’t have the strength to back it. With a knowing smile, Rohan grabbed the blade and ripped it out of his hands.

The soldier grunted as he fought back, swiveling the muzzle at his head. Screw that. Tripping him, Rohan’s elbow slipped and barreled into his exposed throat. His gun flew from his hands and he clawed uselessly at his throat. Eyes bulging, he slowly asphyxiated from his crushed windpipe.

Rohan rolled off of the soldier, heaving as he checked his body for injuries. Private Molino!

Their battle had been bloody and brief. By the time he got up, both soldiers lay on the ground with pools of blood collecting around them. Glancing at the patchwork of flesh that remained of Braun’s head, he knelt beside Private Molino. A crimson flower had bloomed below her chest.

“Don’t bother saving me, I’m a burden now. I’ve already told Laura where to go. Go with them and watch over them. Watch over Daliah and be gentle. Promise me?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

Smiling when he nodded, she let go. “Off you go now. Don’t shed tears for a stranger.”

The noise from the gym had stopped.

Grabbing Braun’s gun and knife, he shared one last look with the dying soldier. Running through the darkened halls, there was one stop to go to first. His feet slapped the tiles as he raced towards Room 212. Over the months, he collected a series of notes and stored them in his school bag if this day ever came. Snatching it, he could hear the wails of the Sorrows returning from their feast.

Laura and Peyton were waiting for him at the northwest entrance to the school. Between them, Daliah stared uncomprehendingly around at the situation. Nodding to one other, the two girls each grabbed one of Daliah’s arms and took off into the oncoming storm.

A lifetime had passed since the Shutdown, and for every single one of those grueling 79 days, he’d been at his wit’s end. His body had been broken or incapacitated and powers beyond comprehension had been thrust upon him. For every single second of it, he regretted the things he’d taken for granted.

Waking up in a soft bed knowing there was a warm meal waiting for him. The most basic access to clean drinking water or even being able to flush a toilet. And most of all, electricity. Life without it had been like a snowball’s chance in Hell.

The girls had already crossed the front lawn, hurrying as fast as they could. This was his last chance to back out. If he stayed, he could restart on his own having the security of a large building. But there was no guarantee of how long it would last. Out there, he was on his own.

Taking a deep breath, he crossed the threshold.

“Here we go.”