Bang.

My eyes open harshly with the gunshot. Colors start filling my sight as the void I was in takes me to a familiar place. A backyard with 3 wooden targets posted on the end and sandbags planted close to a two-story house, where I was raised in. I look around to see the surrounding nature as I remember it, big open rocky grass fields with hills blocking the horizon.

It was beautiful, my parents really knew how to pick their sceneries, though to be fair it is Iceland, it wasn’t that hard to find sights as pretty as this.

At least back then.

As beautiful as it is now, the valleys are death traps and the hills are hiding spots for threats of all kinds ranging from sniper raiders, scouts, or… them.

When is this, actually?

Two figures can be seen crouched near the sandbags, paused in time. The older one seems to be guiding the younger figure with a rifle.

Time resumes, and their voices fade in. My Dad’s and mine, along with the nature that surrounded us.

“You’re aiming a bit to the left.”

“But it’s right in the center of my sight!”

My dad sighed.

I remember this… I was very frustrated. It was my fifth shot already and I only hit once. 1998. It was the first time I ever shot a rifle. I was 4 at the time, and Dad had to hold the end of his rifle because I couldn’t support it.

“I told you, Hill. Focus. Breathe in, pause, shoot, then breathe out. You keep pulling the gun left at the last second because you’re not relaxed. Trigger discipline is key. C’mon, one more time.”

Breathe in.

Shoot.

Breathe out.

“See? You’re not hitting your target because you didn’t pause and relax. Be patient. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.”

“But I did all that!” Past me defies.

“Hill-”

The sliding door leading inside opened. Mom came to the backyard with her “signature” hot chocolate. Nobody really believed she made the recipe herself but it tasted nice, so Dad and I never complained. And Jenn was way too young to comment on it.

If only I learned my way around the kitchen, back then. Maybe I could make my sister Mom’s hot chocolate and finally get her opinion on it.

“Easy with it, Mark. Cut the lad some slack, he’s still a wee’un.”

“I know, I know, Val. But he needs to learn how to protect himself.”

“At 4? It’s fine, I’m sure he’ll be Mommy’s Lil killing machine when he grows up.”

Mom pinched my cheek with a smile and gave Dad his hot chocolate. He drinks fast, like one gulp fast. I never got why he did that. Seems like a waste of perfectly good hot chocolate. When I finally got mine, I drank it slowly, letting the taste get absorbed by my tongue, and letting the heat burn it.

“Hill, Mr. Chun is here. Gae upstairs when you’re ready.”

I immediately stood up and ran to my room, grabbing the sword baton Mom gave me as a gift for my fourth birthday. She even flew Mr. Chun here to teach me how to use it. He’s a martial arts instructor from Indonesia. He specialized in knives if I remember correctly, but he can use weapons of all sorts too. I wonder how he’s doing now if he’s still… living.

From the second floor, I saw Mom going inside while Dad was still tidying up his rifle. I just went to the roof garden we had, the place where I used to practice.

“Morning, Hill. Shooting with Dad already?”

“Yeah… Can we just get to training? I saw this really cool sword move in a movie last night!”

Right. I loved Chinese martial arts movies back then. Bruce Lee and Jackie Chen were my favorites. I would probably still watch them if I can get my hands on any DVD player. Kind of hard to do that after the Mazemasters showed up.

“Really? What was the move?”

“Like… this!”

I tried doing what they did in the movie, spinning around, trying… and failing to do flips, jumping and then slashing down, and just being a danger to people around me in general.

“I see. That’s cool move, but not real one.”

He said in his still broken Icelandic. I offered him to just speak in English once but he refused, doing is the best way to learn, he said.

“Wait, it’s not?”

“If you have to flip in battle, either something terribly wrong or you should teaching me. Now, did you practice the forms?”

I was kind of disappointed it wasn’t a real move, but to this day I can’t flip anyway, so probably a good thing I’ve never needed that move.

“Yes… But they’re so boring!”

“But you did anyway?”

“It… feels cool but looks boring!”

Mr. Chun laughed awkwardly. Man, I was dumb.

“Fighting is not about being cool, Hill. It’s about being effective. It’s about protecting and defending. Being cool is just bonus. But good if you feel cool doing it, that means you are driven, that means you are passionate. Now, let’s practice forms.”

After about an hour of practicing, Mr. Chun called it a day. I was tired already, though I would never admit it. Mom called me down to the kitchen area, saying that lunch is ready.

“How did it go, toots?”

“It went well. The sword move in the movie wasn’t real though.” I said with a pout.

“Oh wow, really?” Dad said in a flat tone.

“Really!”

That earned him an elbow from Mom. Suffice to say I didn't understand his humor back then.

“Learned anything new?”

“Not really, just more form practice.”

“Good. You’ll need those basics.” Dad said, this time much more genuine.

“Wanna… go to the movies?”

Dad is usually away on his work and when he is home he’s usually busy training or sleeping. He almost never invited us to any family event… or any event at all. That was a welcome surprise.

“What movie?” I asked excitedly.

“Mooby! Mooby!” Jenn yells from the living room, Mom was clearly chasing her around to feed her. She’s always hard to calm down unless you read her a good book.

“Aye, Jenn! Mooby! We’ll watch a mooby!”

“... Anyway, I was reading the other day that Christian Bale is pretty good in American Psycho, maybe we should-”

Mom was already staring at Dad.

“... I think your Ma has a better idea.”

“Ya know, they’re playing Toy Story on the TV tonight. Maybe we should watch that! I’ll even cook…”

“Pleasebepopcorns.”

“... Popcorns!”

“YES!”

I quickly finished my lunch and played with Jenn, hoping the clock would go faster.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

If only times are still that simple, Mom.

2003. The year the invasion began.

I was watching The Bourne Identity late at night. Dad allowed me to watch it despite Mom’s protests. Mom told me she had to be there to supervise though. The movie was cut suddenly by an emergency news broadcast. I thought it was an ad for a new horror movie, at that time.

Technically it is, I guess. The ultimate horror experience. That’s a catchy tagline.

“This following emergency news contains disturbing imagery. Viewer discretion is advised.”

I filtered out the news anchor’s voice as soon as a picture of a monster was shown.

“Those monsters look scary, Mom. What’s this movie?” I asked.

“... Hill, stay here.”

“Why?”

“I have to call your Dad. Mark!”

She immediately ran upstairs, calling Dad’s name repeatedly. They both came running towards the TV, which is showing footage of a man being chased by those strange creatures now. Mom hugged me, shoving my face into her body so that my eyes were covered. Dad looked shocked, it’s not often that happens.

“How did it happen?” Dad said, quickly regaining his composure.

“I dinnae ken! Did they not tell ye?!”

“No, but we need to go. Now. Val, get Jenn and her supplies ready. Hill, get our weapons. All of it. Even yours, copy? We’re leaving.”

Mom ran to Jenn’s room, I can hear her cry, being woken up so suddenly.

“What’s going-”

“Now, Hill.”

With that I ran to my room, grabbing my baton sword, then to Dad’s wardrobe. He keeps his weapon cases there. I couldn’t carry the rifle case yet, so I grabbed the pistol case, taking it downstairs towards the sound of our car’s engine.

Dad quickly ran back up, grabbing his rifle case and putting it in the trunk with the pistol case, while mom was in the back seat, trying to calm the still cranky Jenn.

Dad quickly drove over to Leiðarendi Cave, a tourist spot northeast of our home. I didn’t understand why at first but followed my parents anyway. Dad was leading us to an unknown part of the cave, Mom was holding Jenn’s hand, guiding her in the dark, and I was on the back of the line.

We navigated in the dark for a while, before Dad pushed a loose rock, which surprisingly opened a door to a blindingly white room, some sort of bunker entrance. There were 2 doors before you could get inside, the rock-sheeted door used to camouflage the bunker and a metal door on the inside, leading to the all-purpose area.

There was a mini-fridge there and on the floor was a big mattress, enough to fit all of us and on the back was an exposed rock part. Dad said we can mine it off if we ever need a back door. The only other room is a bathroom.

We got settled pretty quickly, Dad and Mom worked great as a team, setting up the bunker. I didn’t have much to do, though. I couldn’t help carrying heavy stuff yet and I couldn’t play with Mom either, since she was busy with Jenn or the bunker.

That is before Dad asked me to help him hunt. I can’t shoot yet, but I can spot animals for him. Dad and I never hunted, but we got into a flow quickly. I searched for animals with my binoculars, pointed them out to Dad, and Dad bagged them for us to eat at the bunker. I like to think we were a pretty good team.

I will always remember the first time I fought one of them. Those freaky monsters I saw on the TV, the ones people call the Mazemasters now. Dad and I were hunting like usual. I pointed to an elk I saw in the distance, but I didn’t see the Mazemaster hiding in a tree nearby. Waiting for a hunter like us to mess up and shoot. Dad shot the elk, but the gunshot made the Mazemaster wail, calling its friends.

We instantly got up. Dad shot at a few of the Mazemasters he saw with his rifle, taking some down while the others teleported away. Seeing them approaching, Dad dropped his rifle and went for his pistol and knife instead. I tried pulling my baton sword from its sheath on my left hip, but the nerves made me drop it. Dad shot a few more with his pistol and stabbed the ones that got too close. One rushed at me though and I just got my weapon from the ground.

Seeing this, Dad shot a few rounds to its body, making it tumble but not killing it. Dad was too busy with the other Mazemasters to finish the job. It tumbled towards me fast. Way too fast. I raised my baton as it fell onto me, pushing me down with it. It thrashed around, clawing randomly. In my panicked state, I just closed my eyes and started stabbing blindly, hoping it’s not too late.

Stab.

The Mazemaster screeches.

Stab.

The thing’s face touches my hand’s skin, my sword should be through its head now, but it's not dead yet.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

I kept on stabbing, even after it stopped screeching. When my arm finally got tired, I dared to open my eyes. I’ve caved its head in.

Good. It was finally dead.

Still in shock, I just threw its body to the side and stared at the sky.

When Dad finished off the last Mazemaster with a strong stab, I stood up. Dad signaled me to follow him. We carried the elk back to the bunker quickly, not wanting any more Mazemaster to follow us.

I still reminisce about that first kill sometimes, despite the shock. The adrenaline was nothing like what I ever felt before. It was… thrilling. It was addictive, to say the least.

I know it may seem grim but you’ll understand.

“Happy new year! Happy Birthday, ma Lil lass!” Mom yelled, bringing a cake with her.

“I saved some of the supplies we have just for this. My signature cheesecake!”

“Yay! Cake! Thanks, Mom!” Jenn quickly stopped playing with the radio, rushing towards the table.

“Your… signature… cheesecake?” Dad asked.

“I didn’t know you had a signature cheesecake, Mom.”

“You just didnae know!”

“... Okay.” Both Dad and I said.

Dad was about to grab a slice before Mom stopped him.

“Save it for the bairns, Mark. it’s not you who needs the food to grow up!”

“Boys will be boys, I still need to grow up a bit,” Dad said with a smirk. Mom’s raised brow and head tilt said it all.

“You need to grow up alright.” she finally snarks back, earning a laugh from Dad.

“Well! Enjoy the cake! Your Pa and I need to talk.”

We did, we enjoyed it a lot. I sang Jenn her happy birthday song and she practically planted her face into the cake.

Mom and Dad weren't there, they wouldn’t return for another hour, actually. All that in the coldest of Iceland’s winter.

As the days went by, Mom and Dad disappeared more and more often, usually when they thought we already slept.

Eventually, I got curious, as any kid would. I pretended to sleep again and followed them to an opening in the cave. They got their radio and transmitter out, it was static for a while before a voice was heard.

“46. How’ve you been?”

“26, How's it hanging? We’re good here, N37 is good too, found him sleeping with the K9s today. Why are you calling this late?”

“Really? That must’ve been a story.” Dad chuckled at that.

”I got busy with things, and the kids.”

“Right. Right. How’s 57?”

“She’s here too.”

“Hello!” Mom waved at the radio.

“There you are! Seems like it’s all okay over there?”

“No, there's something going on. It’s… it’s the Mazemasters.”

“What’s with them?” the voice and Dad transitioned to a more professional tone, the one he uses whenever he trains me.

“They’ve been getting closer and I don’t know why.”

“What’d ya mean they’re getting closer?”

“Like… they’re zeroing in on something. They’re not rushing so I don’t think they found us out.” Mom explained.

“Yeah, kinda like that. You ever seen anything like that, man?”

“I see… Nah. Never seen anything like that. How many?”

“Only one or two at a time, usually, looks like they’re in some sort of a patrol pattern.”

“That’s definitely suspicious, but I mean your girl’s the expert on them.”

“I dinnae ken either, this pattern never showed up before. Though 26 and our son had seen newer attack patterns since the invasion.”

“Our researchers here concluded the same thing. We don’t have a solution other than to just adapt though, I’ve been winging it for a while now because of this. I saw one try to cover its head just the other day and one just hiding, taking cover. They’re learning and evolving. That’s all I know right now, 26. Wish I could do more.”

“Right… Thanks anyway.”

“Tell me if you need help, M26.”

“Thanks, I’ll try.”

“Oh, and Burma’s on the fields now?”

I stuck closer to the cave walls, fearing the callout was me being exposed.

“Yeah. You’d be surprised, he’s a good spotter. His sword skills can use some work but he’s decent at that too. That’s more your specialty though.”

“Ha! Seems like he has the fighter blood.”

“Tex…”

“I know. I would never rope him in. That’s a promise, buddy.”

They continued talking but with that I sneaked back into the bunker, pretending to sleep. They came back to bed around an hour later. It didn’t take long before I actually went to sleep.

I suddenly feel a burning sensation on my face. Past me seems to be feeling it too.

That’s the first thing I remember from the day it happened. I woke up feeling like my face was being burned. It really hurt but everybody else was still sleeping, so I bit my lip to hold the scream. I looked at the clock. 2 AM. Of course, everybody was still sleeping. Dad usually woke up at this hour, but there was a big three-way fight. Us, helped by some nearby settlement’s guards, raiders, and a group of Mazemasters, a bigger group now, and closer to our bunker, too. He fought most of them while I mostly stayed in cover, poking everything that came too close. I decided I’ve had enough of laying still trying to go back to sleep. I’ve tried for the last hour, two maybe, or even three, I tend to lose count after the first 15 minutes.

I decided to take a morning breather outside, it was dry because it didn’t rain at all this week. The sky was dreary, full of grey clouds blocking the bland black sky. I couldn’t see the stars at all, only the gentle moonlight brought me some comfort.

But the gentle moonlight boldens the silhouette of shuffling rocks, along with the crunching sounds of said rocks.

Movement.

I immediately stood up. It’s too dark for me to see any target but I quietly sneaked back to wake Dad up and get my weapon.

“Dad. Wake up.”

“What is it?”

“Movement, outside.”

That got him on his feet quickly.

“Move. We need to check the perimeter.”

We ready up and scope the situation.

“The footsteps are getting closer. There’s… a lot of them, more than 10.”

I close my eyes and focus on my hearing. “Those are Mazemaster footsteps.”

Dad takes out the binoculars and scans the nearby flat landscape, then the hills.

“Positive IDs, I see at least 14 Mazemasters. Get your Ma and Sister, we need to bail. Copy?”

“Okay, Dad.”

I ran to the bunker and woke up my Mom first. She immediately got up and woke Jenn up once she knew what was going on. They grabbed the pickaxes while I watched the door.

Mom and Jenn immediately started breaking the rock wall on the back once Dad’s rifle was shot. He kept on shooting for minutes, he must have taken them all down.

Right?

Far from it, after he ran out of ammo, he ran back to the bunker with only his pistol and knife in hand. He closed the 2 doors in a rushed manner. I immediately knew what that meant and prepared my baton sword, attaching it into its spear form.

“Hill, hold the door for now. I need to make a call.”

I aim my weapon at the door, shaky but ready.

Banging on the rock door was heard expectedly. What wasn’t expected was the speed of its breaking. I could feel a horde of them banging on the metal door, starting to dent it.

“M46, do you copy? I need reinforcement!”

Nothing. He repeats again and again but nothing.

Suddenly a Mazemaster’s wail can be heard from the radio.

“We’re on our own,” Dad said, aiming his pistol to the door. The sound of Dad's shots, the freaks’ wails, and the rock wall getting picked filled the air. Before long, Dad ran out of pistol ammo, having to fight with only knives now. We got pushed back inch by inch, continuously losing our footing. Some even went past us, then Dad and I had to run back before they could get to Jenn and Mom.

“Val! How long?”

“A minute! Hold them for a minute!”

They kept pushing and pushing. For each freak that we killed 2 more appeared. All sense of logic disappears. I could do nothing other than mindlessly stabbing, biting, kicking, or whatever it took to hurt them. My fingers went numb and stabbing became punching. Punching became clawing. And it wasn’t long before clawing became simply planting my nails into their heads ineffectively.

When the rock wall finally broke down. Some Mazemasters on the back caught on and changing their approach. Before long the back door was covered too. Dad immediately jumped and watched Mom, while Jenn jumped to my side due to surprise. I picked my weapon back up but holding 2 fronts was impossible. And we knew it.

I can see dad saying something to Mom. I don’t know what he said, but she looked at defeat with acceptance on her face. With one last look at each other, Mom approached me.

“Hill, I’m going to need you to run, okay? Run and don’t look back. Protect your sister, whatever it takes. Can you do that for me, my little killing machine?” She said rubbing me with a sad smile.

“Okay, Mom. But what about you and Dad?”

“... Promise me you’ll both be fine, please protect her, Hill.” She said, between chokes.

“I… promise, Mom.”

She kneeled to kiss Jenn’s forehead then mine. We looked at each other before she finally stood up and let go.

She nodded at Dad, who instantly went for a grenade attached to his hip. With a short throw, he cleared out the back door for us. Instead of waiting for our ears to stop ringing, Dad just grabbed us and pushed, practically throwing us out. I just grabbed Jenn’s hand and ran as fast as I could through the small tunnel behind the wall, and when Jenn’s little feet couldn’t keep up, I carried her.

I looked back, despite Mom’s orders. Our parents were looking at us sadly. I’ve never been good at lip-reading, but a more hopeful part in me thinks their last words to us were “I love you.” if that was their last words at all. Everything blurred out both for me and past me.

We came back the morning after. There were a lot of dead Mazemasters. I remember hoping whatever happened they weren’t turned into one of the freaks. As I peeked through the back door, I could see their bodies on the corner where our bed used to be. They had a strangely peaceful look on their faces, even though their bodies were full of scars. But they weren’t turned, that’s the important part. I would rather see them like this than as one of them.

Jenn was still outside by this point. But I knew I had to tell her sooner rather than later. I motioned her to come, despite my heart. I still remember Jenn’s shock as she saw them. She planted her head onto me instantly, trying to get some shielding from the reality of the situation. A shield I don’t think anyone could provide.

If only I stayed.

If only I died.

Jenn’s crying brought me back to my senses. Only the promise matters now.

I stood and hugged her as she continued crying. She cried for what felt like half an hour, wetting my shirt. After she slept from exhaustion, I knew we had to escape before more came. The rest was a blur, and all I remember was walking away from the bunker, with Jenn sleeping in my arms.

I reach for my younger self’s shoulders, trying to get his… my attention, but the floor disappears and the void between sleep and dream retakes me. Probably for my own good.

Great job at repression, subconscious. I close my eyes, trying to tune back into the void, but my real eyes start to open, and the clock says 3 AM.