The candle light danced of the wind. Johnson was sitting in the corner of the kitchen. On the dusty floor laid pieces of some tore cardboard box. He felt heat on his cheek, his wounded temple burned badly. It was day. Gray light dimly came out the window next to him. He promptly reloaded his shotgun, getting ready for the next bastard. He looked at the opened door. Absolute gloom was there.

Something rumbled with a sound of glass break. He pointed his shotgun at the sound source. Someone is walking on the splinters, he thought. Tempo Soldiers will never catch me. I'll generously feed them with bullets.

Sounds little by little subsided. Johnson was a patient man, but in few hours his body started whining. His stomach growled. Eyelids tempted to close. Three days passed since he had last eaten and slept. He stood up, slowly and carefully, it was easy to lose the balance at his exhausted state.

It was raining outside. Rain drops pattered the rusty roof. "I need to hurry" he thought. Still holding his weapon, he went to the backyard door. The house was abandoned. Drawers, shelfs, safes were all empty. Most of the windows were broken and it smelled rot in here. He checked Amy in his backpack. The machine was still on. Great, he said. Step by step he reached the hall. The floor was covered dried blood. No corpses, no living, just a vast room with the door leading outside. It opened with a loud creak. He checked his pockets, they were empty. Johnson could see stars in the sky. Half his way was behind, the harder one was ahead.

The further he went, the colder it got, in a dead world where no humans were left, but this awful creatures that once had been people: Tempo Soldiers. After adapting the environment, they threw away their humanity and became monster cyborgs. Only thing left for Johnson was to reach the edge of the world. Legends said that the world would return to normal once someone crossed its boundary. But Tempo Soldiers would never let anyone reach it, because it would mean their death.

He continued his way up the road. Heavy rain drops sometimes stroke his nose with a slapping sound. Nobody was beside to talk to. Fresh air. Scent of the wet ground. Old trees some of which might had once seen the normal world. The road was wide. The asphalt glimpsed puddles. The cacophony of rain. And the lonely silhouette, slowly limping in the middle, Johnson. Step, step, step. His shoes were damp inside and squelched like sobbing children.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Silence was in Johnson's head. He heard nothing and thought of nothing. Bandages wrapped around his hand were claret red, but he didn't pay attention. He was alive, yet he had something rotting inside of him since two years ago. The blond lad with eyes full of hope had died, leaving behind the thin, broken man he was now. And he remembered the day they put Amy in the metal box inside his backpack. He knew she had cried and begged for mercy while they had removed her organs. His head ached. It was dangerous, because he might faint.

"Anyway, we are fine, aren't we?" he said feebly. Obviously, no response followed. He spoke to Amy. Maybe just to not get mad. He wanted to speak, and nothing could handle him from it.

On the right hand from him was a flower field, one of beautiful things left of the ancient world. Air here was so clean and easy he could feel free, take a rest from his awful life for awhile. Purple, red, green and white vivid colors soothed his eyes. He was delighted. "Look Amy, what a great place is it" he said. Even further was a tremendous range of hills. A strong urge to stay here popped his mind, but his wish, we all know, would never come to life.

. . .

After few hours he reached some town. All buildings were overgrown plants. The soil was wet, it had been raining here. No children played at the playground he looked at. No old man sat the bench beside complaining about the modern generation. No birds sang and flied. The cloudy sky was gray, so the world looked bitterly sad. This neglected place caused strong misgiving. The church with the broken crucifix on its roof. Abandoned houses with their doors opened. Windows with no light in them. And the ominous wind was blowing from the east. Johnson was nervous and scared, but had no choice. He started sneaking everywhere, searching for food. A can of beans was laying on the table. Looked it over. It wasn't expired yet. He decided to not to wait too long and opened it. Contents smelled deliciously, according to his hunger. He greedily drank all the water from inside and commenced to fill his mouth with salty beans. That was not enough. He wanted more.

By the time he finished exploring the area the sky had colored black. To his saving were added up a soda bottle, can of corns, and a small pack of biscuits. "I think we shall stay here for this night" he said to Amy, placing his heavy backpack on the floor. He took off the soda cap, bottle hissed loudly. After making few lazy sips, he spread up the blanket he had found in the other building. Laid down, and fell asleep.