The very next day, Deacon, Stan, and Jane find themselves on top of the building they hid in. The guards were gone... Did they flee? The smoke had risen up to cover the city in what looks like a thick bunch of storm clouds. Breathing in what's left of the city, they begin moving. Stan holds the little girl.
They have a plan in order. They need food, shelter, clothes, and all that important stuff. Jane places a thin plank over the edge of the construction site's terrace and tips it over. It slams onto the terrace of the next building, perfectly level.
"This does not look safe." Pointed out Stan, as he assessed the thickness of the plank, which measures up to the thickness of a thumb. "It's plywood, don't worry." Deacon assures them.
A nervous Stan puts his foot on the plank staring down. He sees a group of people standing down. But they all have scarred skin, open flesh wounds and dried blood over their necks. They all push into each other, while biting chunks of flesh out of each other.
He takes a step ahead. The plank begins creaking. Dust sprinkles out from the little crevasses in the wood. Panicking, and balancing himself and the girl, he begins shivering.
"You morons!" A voice calls out from behind them. Deacon turns around and points a gun at the man. "Woah woah... hey..." the man attempts to calm them. He puts his hands over his head with no visible fear.
"I am here to offer you help."
A group of people walk through and stand behind the man. "We are headed to a camp. We want you to join us. I've seen what you can do. And we can use some help." He pleads.
"Walk away, man." Deacon says. Stan points his gun out at the group behind him. "You guys really believe a word he's saying? Really? A camp? For all you know, they are trying to take you and make you work for your survival." Says Stan.
One of the women from the group lifts her head and says, "If it means safety for my child, I am willing to work for them." She tightly holds the hand of her little son, covered in dust, mud, and sprinkles of blood.
"I repeat. Walk. Away." Demands Deacon, heat begins building up on his skin. Jane holds his hand. To him, it feels comforting. Her soft hand calms him down. The heat radiating from his body slowly stops. Jane notices.
The people shake their head in disappointment and walk away. But the man in front gives them a radio with a note that reads, "Say the words, 'Pineapples are cool' for help."
Stan crosses over. And the other two just barely make it.
They make their way outside the city, jumping through windows and balconies.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Through the process Stan kept the girl's corpse in his arms, almost like he is comforting her. She is dressed in blue jeans and a pink shirt, with sparkly blue shoes.
"We're out of the city." Says Stan. Instead of being relieved, he seems tired. Deacon offers to carry the girl. But Stan denies the offer.
Silence surrounds them, with light sunlight brushing their skins. It's a little too silent.
"What now?" Asks Stan.
Soon after that question, baseball bats hit the back of their heads and knock them out.
Hours later, they wake up in a closed area. They sit on hard wooden chairs, toppling in and out over the uneven grassy ground.
"Welcome back." Says a voice from behind Deacon. He turns to find him and his friends are put in a circle, facing away from each other around a fire. Their hands are free. "You didn't tie us up?" Asks Stan.
"Nope. Because I am here to introduce myself to you all. We have seen what you can do, Deacon," the mysterious man states, "it is very impressive. Such a skill should not be out free. No. It should rather be reserved. So, we have brought you to here... wherever you'd like to call this."
He walks over to Deacon and reveals that he holds a Bible, with a cross hanging off his neck on a shiny silver necklace. "Welcome to Camp Jiolas, children of God. You have nothing to fear. But you must work to keep your spot here. And judging by the looks of you all, we will assign you to the adventurers' team. So, get up and follow Sister Bella to your tents."
"Can we trust them?" Asks Jane to Deacon. "Look there." He replies, pointing his finger to the farm next to them. Jane turns and looks, and what she sees is reassuring. Little kids picking dried weeds from the grassy ground. Happy mothers rubbing their kids' soft hair, with a smile on their faces. Fathers coming back from outside the gates in their custom buggies, with guns strapped to their backs. They drop their guns from their bags and run to their sons and daughters with open hands, only to pick them up and hold them like little airplanes, while they kiss their wives on the forehead.
"I suppose we can." Says Deacon by the sight
"I almost forgot," says the man, "you need to come with us for a minute.
The trio gets up and follows them. But Stan notices that the little girl is not in his hands anymore. "Where is the girl I carried?" He asks the man. "Right there." He says, pointing to a stack of firewood, with the girl resting atop it. Then, it dawns on the trio on what they had to do since the beginning, instead of letting the innocent little girl go through the mess the world has turned into.
They take a matchbox from one of the guards, that joins them out of respect. He lights it, and just before dropping it onto the wood, he hears whispering chanting behind him. He turns back to find out that the whole camp has stopped working to come and pray for her. Stan reaches into his coat's pocket and pulls out a picture of another little girl. He gets on his knees and puts the picture next to the girl.
Trees sway around the camp, and the metallic walls creak. Leaves brush across the camp from the floor, and silence fills the environment. They finish praying and look at Stan, waiting for him to do the necessary task. A tear seeps out of his eyes.
He lights another match and puts it onto the wood. Slowly, the fire begins spreading. This is a different type of fire. Not a hot, scary and smokey fire. It's more of a relieving and sorrowful flame. The memories are the smoke, from where Stan stands.
He feels a hand on each shoulder. Deacon and Jane have now bonded with Stan. The trio is connected through Stan. With a flashback of his mother's corpse, Deacon gently applies a comforting soft pressure on Stan's shoulder and stutters out the words, "She's free now."