Moving On

“That’s the thing about this city. You never know what’s going to happen,” Mark told his friend. The two boys were walking along the dirty, rust-covered streets of Zrada, the Beautiful City. Or so it was called. In Mark’s opinion, it was just a giant mud pit that tried to pass itself off as an oasis. He and his friend, Noah, were going to the food market, which wasn’t much more than a few shops selling different flavors of paste. Actual food was long gone; most people didn’t know what an apple tasted like. 

“What do you think? Bread or broccoli?” Noah was holding up the tubes for Mark to see. 

“Get the bread. The broccoli looks weird and tastes weird.”

“Okay. They all taste the same to me.” They paid for a few tubes, pocketing the tiny bit of change and walking back towards their neighborhood. They soon parted ways, waving and promising to see each other the next day. When Mark got home, he closed and triple-locked the door.

“Mom?” he said softly, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. 

“Is that you Mark?” He smiled as he stepped into the bedroom to see his mother propped up with a few pillows. 

“I got more paste,” he said, holding up the tubes. 

“Oh, thank you sweetie,” she replied, smiling up at him with her thin mouth. 

“You should eat some. You’re getting thinner.” He began to open one of the tubes, but she held up a wrinkled hand. 

“Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine. I already ate today.” Mark opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it again. It would do no good to argue with his mother. 

“Alright. Get some sleep, Mom.” He gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead before leaving and softly closing the door. 

Mark sighed frustratedly later that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about his mother, wondering if she was going to wake up the next morning or not. The thought that she would be gone one day brought tears to his eyes. Finally, he fell into a troubled sleep, tears still slipping down his cheeks. 

Mark. Mark. I can help you. Meet me under the Overpass at midnight. 

Mark woke up in a cold sweat, panting. He checked his tiny bedroom frantically, but relaxed once he realized no one was there. It was just a dream. Checking his clock, he realized it was already 6 in the morning. He got up and slipped into his grimy work clothes, checking on his mom and leaving a spoonful of paste next to her for when she woke up. 

As he made his way to work, he thought about the voice in his dream. Had someone actually been talking to him? Or was it all his imagination? He snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Noah calling to him. He smiled and greeted him just as he always had, but inside, he was a brewing storm just waiting to be let out. 

By the end of his job scrubbing equipment that night, he had completely forgotten about the dream. He hung out with Noah for a while, then headed home as usual. His mom again refused to eat, thanking him for the paste that morning. Mark was worried. She had been eating less and less lately, much less than she should. He tried not to think about it; she knew what she needed, but he couldn’t help being nervous. Right as he was falling asleep, he remembered his dream the night before. Sitting up, he quickly checked the clock. 11:30. If he hurried, he could make it. No, what was he thinking? Meeting a possibly non-existent stranger? Under the Overpass? No way in Zrada was that happening. But even as he thought this, he found himself getting dressed and slipping his boots on. Before he could really think about what he was doing, he was almost at the Overpass. The Overpass was a huge, decaying suspension bridge at the South edge of Zrada, and was mostly a haven for gangs and other law-breakers. It used to traverse a huge strait called the Golden Gate, but it dried up a long time ago. There was a crater directly underneath the middle of the bridge, and that was where Mark was going. 

He reached the indentation right as the clock hit twelve, and a blaring warning sounded around the city, telling people to get in their houses - or else. He hid behind a piece of debris as the searchlight passed over the area. It was utterly silent until the light disappeared, and then the place came to life. Fires lit up everywhere, burning off of the tar that was so common around here. Thankfully, none of them were too close to Mark. 

He waited almost an hour before giving up. It was just a silly dream. 

“No, it wasn’t.” Mark whipped around, facing the dark figure that had spoken. 

“How could you hear me?” 

“That’s my business. I see you accepted my offer.” 

Mark hesitated, but finally burst and said urgently, “Can you really help her? Can you heal my mom?” 

The person chuckled softly at his eagerness. “Yes. But you have to do something for me first.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything.” 

“Slow down. I need you to… obtain something for me. It just so happens that it’s in a hard-to-reach place, but I’ve been watching you. You have some skills.” At that, Mark looked at the ground, ashamed. 

“I stopped doing that a long time ago.” 

“Maybe, but you still have the skills, correct?” Mark nodded slowly. 

“Good, good. So this is what I need you to do…” 

“No, Mark this is a terrible idea!” Noah said in distress after Mark explained the meeting. 

“I know, but he says he can help my mom. He says he can save her. I’ll do anything to help her get better.” 

“No, you won’t. This is going too far. You can’t possibly listen to him! He’s a complete stranger!” 

“I’m sorry, Noah, but I have to do this. I’m leaving tonight.” With that, Mark walked away, his chest squeezing in pain as he ignored Noah’s cries. 

That night, dressed in black, Mark crept out onto the street, running silently and dodging searchlights. His target loomed up in front of him, its brick walls tall and dark like a starving, angry bear. He pulled out a rope with a grappling hook on the end, and threw it up towards a dark window. On the second try, it made it in, waited for the searchlight to pass, and climbed up the wall. His feet touched the ground silently, and he made his way to the door. Opening it silently, he peered out into the darkness in either direction, finally stepping out and making his way to the end of the hall. He stopped at the door, his hand hovering over the knob. Doubts started to creep in, but he pushed them away. He had to do this. His mom’s life was on the line. He gripped the doorknob, turned it, and stepped into the hospital room.

A little girl stood before him. Watching. Curious. Mark gasped slightly, body suddenly tense. 

“Who are you?” she asked, all innocence and curiosity. He didn’t answer immediately, just reassured himself that his mask was still on and slowly stepping towards her. In one quick movement, he had his hand over her mouth and the other holding hers behind her back. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you had better not tell anyone about this visit, or -” he stopped suddenly. Swallowing, he whispered, “or something bad will happen.” He could feel her trembling beneath his grip, and guilt swamped him. “I’m gonna let you go now, but don’t scream, okay?” She nodded shakily, and he slowly lifted his hand off her mouth. She stayed quiet, thankfully, and he set her down on the bed in the corner. “Stay right here and don’t move.” She looked up at him with fear-filled eyes, and his stomach twisted into a knot. Mentally shaking himself, he walked over to the far wall and felt along it for the lever he had been told was there. Once he had located it, he pulled, causing a groaning sound to fill the room. The wall slid open with a grinding noise, causing Mark to wince, hoping desperately that no one could hear it. The walls were covered in vials of different colored liquids, but Mark just grabbed the ones with a green label, the words too faded to read. Shoving them in his backpack, he turned and fled the room. 

As he was rappelling back down the wall, he heard sirens fill the air, and the number of searchlights multiplied. Reaching the ground, he pulled down his grappling hook and silently ran back towards the Overpass, where he would finally get some answers. 

Upon reaching the crater, Mark realized that the mysterious man had already arrived. 

Holding out the vials, Mark said, “Here’s what you wanted. Now give me the medicine.” 

“Slow down, boy. I’ll give you the medicine once I have the vials.”

“Then take them! And give me the medicine!” He slowly reached out a gloved hand and grabbed the vials, slipping them underneath his cloak. Mark held out his hand, but the man laughed evilly. 

“Oh, I was never going to give you anything. In fact, I don’t have anything. Thank you for your service, and goodbye. Forever.” A hand closed over Mark’s mouth, but he fought back, freeing himself and running away as fast as he could. He could hear footsteps pounding behind him, but as he wove through the buildings and hid in alleyways, they eventually faded. Gasping for breath, he mentally kicked himself. How could I have been so stupid? He had probably just gotten himself a death sentence, and no healing for his mom. Sitting against an old dumpster, Mark pulled his knees to his chest and cried in agony. 

His mom was laying in bed at home, sleeping peacefully, when Mark got back early that morning. Flopping onto his own mattress, he fell asleep immediately, not caring that he would be docked pay for missing work. It didn’t matter anyways. The police would find him eventually. 

He woke up sometime in the afternoon to screaming. Bolting to his mother’s room, he relaxed slightly when she was awake and well. 

“What’s that noise?” she asked. 

“I’ll go check.” Mark opened the door, gasping in horror when he saw the gruesome scene. A woman was being held in the hand of a man that had to be at least ten feet tall. His clothes were torn, as if he had been smaller and then grown rapidly, ripping them apart. Mark gaped at him, then noticed the symbol on his chest. It was a red snake, baring its fangs, and he was overcome with another shock as he realized where he had seen it before. It had been the same symbol on the man’s chest. The man he had given those vials to. A crash came from behind him, and he turned to see another of the crazed giants breaking into the house. 

“Mom!” he cried, rushing to her room and grabbing the gun he always kept over the door. But it was too late. The monster was already there, gripping her in its fist. Mark burst in, fear and anger written all over his face, when it smiled. A creepy, evil, lunatic smile. And it snapped her neck. 

“Noooo!” he screamed, firing the gun wildly. He only stopped when he ran out of bullets. The monster was a mangled mess on the floor, but Mark ignored it. He picked up his mother out of the rubble, cradling her now-lifeless body in his arms. Tears splashed onto her face, pooling in the wrinkles Mark had known so well. But soon the sadness was overcome by rage. Rage at the world, the monster, and the man. Laying her on the ground, he stood and grabbed his gun, reloading it with a new round of bullets. Armed and angry, he ran out into the street and followed the stream of monsters to its source. To his target. 

The source of them was a giant warehouse at the edge of the city, and it was surprisingly easy to sneak in. They must have not expected anyone to have the guts to try and stop this. As Mark explored the rooms, he finally found one with two of the giants guarding it. Aiming his gun, he took them out with two shots each to the head. They never saw it coming. After reloading, he climbed over them and tried the door. Locked. Glancing around, his eyes landed on the club that one of the monsters had been holding. Perfect. Hefting the giant piece of wood and metal, Mark backed up to the opposite side of the hall, then took a running start and swung. The door barely budged, and the club shattered. Grunting in frustration, he looked around, and then upwards. There was an old air vent in the ceiling, and, after tossing up his gun, he stood on one of the monster’s heads and hoisted himself up. 

After crawling through the dusty vents, Mark dropped down into the locked room, his gun at the ready. But no one was there. It was just a big, dark, empty room. He lowered his weapon, confused. Why would they try to guard this? Suddenly, a shape emerged from the darkness, and something hard cracked over his head, sending him into unconsciousness. 

Groaning, Mark opened his eyes, blinking hard against the light. His head hurt immensely, and as he awoke, he realized that his hands were chained to the ground. He yanked at them, but to no avail. 

“Good, you’re awake.” A low, familiar voice caused Mark to raise his eyes.

“You. You killed my mother.” He struggled and pulled, trying to reach the evil man with the red snake emblem on his chest. The man chuckled at his attempts. 

“You can’t escape. I wasn’t expecting you to drop by, but I’m actually quite glad you did. I had been wanting to thank you again for your helpfulness in my plan.” He stood and began circling Mark, an evil glint in his eyes. “You have allowed me to fulfill my mission to overthrow the people you call a government. Now I can make Zrada a better place.” 

“You call killing innocent people making it a better place?” He laughed again. 

“Oh, these people are far from innocent.” As he continued his speech, Mark found something in his back pocket. His eyes widened, but he recovered quickly, hiding his discovery. There was no one in the room but the man and Mark. As the lock on his chains opened, he smiled. Big mistake. In one leap, Mark was on top of the man, tying him up with lightning speed. In just a few seconds, their positions were switched. Sticking his sock in the man’s mouth, he cautiously opened the door to find the hallway empty. Sounds of machinery could be heard, and he followed them to find another room. He was appalled at what he saw. 

People were stepping into a capsule one by one, and a thick fog would surround them. They would come back out as the monsters that were trashing the city. Mark took no more time to watch; crouching as he made his way to the giant machine that seemed to be producing the fog. Carefully, he opened what he assumed was the controls, and, after observing them for a moment, flipped every switch he saw. The machine squealed and began shaking, and Mark could hear cries of surprise coming from the line of people. Valves began to pop, and a pipe burst. Mark ran out as fast as he could, darting through the door and back to the room where he had been trapped. 

Just as he reached it to find that the man was still there, an explosion came from behind him, knocking him over. He got back up quickly, hurrying over to make sure the man’s chains were still locked. They were, so Mark settled down and waited. 

20 minutes later, the police showed up, and when they reached the room Mark was in, began to arrest him. 

“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. This guy is the one who made the monsters. I snuck in and captured him, as well as blew up the machine he was using to create them. You can go see for yourself.” He pointed them to the room with the machine, and after checking that out and seeing the symbol on the man’s chest, they arrested him and thanked Mark. 

Just as he was being loaded into the car, the man asked, “Why didn’t you just kill me? After all, I did kill you mother.” 

“Because I’m not like you,” Mark replied simply, his chest squeezing at the remembrance of his mother. 

A couple of days later, Mark was searching through the rubble of his house, as were most people. As he opened a drawer of his mother’s nightstand, he saw a rolled-up piece of paper. Opening it, he saw that his name was written at the top. It was a letter from his mother. 

Dear Mark, 

I know that you have been worried about me lately, and I just want you to know that I understand. If you are reading this, that means that I am gone, and I’m sorry. Just know that I love you with all my heart, and even though I am gone, you must move on. Death is a part of life. I love you so much.

Mom

Tears streamed down Mark’s face, but he knew she was right. He needed to move on, even if he missed her more than anything. 

“I promise.”