Collapsed Into the Fog of Destitution

Submitted into Contest #85 in response to: Start your story with the line, “That’s the thing about this city…”... view prompt

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Fiction Coming of Age

That's the thing about this city. Everyone always tries to do the right thing, but every move they makes seems to make it worse.

They try, I know they do, but I can see the way it's going to collapse. It's like a premonition. It's always there at the back of my mind and I know it's going to go. It's a creeping tickle that has always been there, some days it's easier to ignore than others.

It's going to go bad. For all of us. Not just the street sleepers and the ones who scrap out a meager living doing whatever they can. Even the rich rich in their houses on the hill, the ones who can have every opportunity in the world.

I should be in my final year of college, studying biology and history, getting applications ready for a master's in archaeology. Instead, I'm standing watch with a sword. My 3.98 GPA and stage combat training from my childhood doesn't do me any good out here and it certainly didn't help when I was ordered into training. They gave me a sword because it was the least complex weapon to learn.

When the apocalypse happened, my graduating class went on the run. We didn't have any weapons. We didn't know anything. We had no reason to believe we were going to survive.

Mason was the first of us to die. He died like the idiot he'd been in life, trying to get a ball between two trees when a mutant coyote attacked him. The rest of us ran, but Mason just kept trying to get the stupid ball between those stupid trees.

The thing was, Mason wasn't actually stupid. He was one of the smartest people in our class. He and I used to partner for labs and anything else we needed. We were a good team. It was why I never understood why he was trying to get the ball between the trees. Maybe it was something he thought he finally had control over.

Casey was the second. She was the most beautiful of us. Long dark blonde hair that was always perfectly styled and brown eyes. She knew she was beautiful and used it to her advantage. She kept trying to get Mason to date her. She didn't get her wish because Mason was dating someone. A guy I didn't know, but Blaine told me our first night on the run that Mason's boyfriend was one of the hundreds of people who had died in the mutants' attack on the university.

Others died. People who were with us, but I didn't know except by sight. I don't know why they were there. Maybe they thought Blaine could protect them.

Blaine almost made it to the military camp we were fleeing to. An older man, one I always guessed had been in the military, but I never got confirmation told us about it, where it was and how to get there. We were almost at the walls when we were attacked again. Blaine held the mutants off, giving us time to get inside, but he didn't make it. He sacrificed himself so the rest of us could survive.

At night, when I lie in bed between scratchy sheets and blankets, I think about Blaine and how well he would've done here. His father was a police officer and taught Blaine to use a gun for protection. Sometimes I wonder if Blaine's father taught Blaine to use a gun, but I do know I was grateful when we were making our escape.

Blaine broke into a professor's office and took the gun he had in the desk. By that time mutants were taking over campus and there wasn't time to question why a professor had a gun in his desk. Blaine opened the drawer like he knew it was there and he shot several mutants as we ran out of the history building and out the back entrance by the gym and the athletic fields. Blaine was the one who made it possible for us to get to the military camp. He knew precisely the place the older man had talked about.

If it wasn't for Blaine none of us would be here.

Blaine is dead. We owe him our lives.

That first night at the camp, the five of us who survived made a pact while sitting around the campfire. We would fight in Blaine's memory.

The next day I shot my first gun and it was terrifying. I was given a sword and despite my awkwardness, the commander could see my natural ability.

We left the military camp, but we couldn't leave the army. Everyone who had survived the initial attack in the area was forced to be in the army. We left because we realised even the commanders, the men and women who had led forces into battle, didn't know what to do about a bunch of mutants attacking the population. It seemed there wasn't any reason behind any of the attacks.

We waited.

It felt like we were waiting for something, but no one knew what. We were all in the bubble of being afraid, but not knowing what was going on around us. Blaine would've been a spy if he were still here. He would know what to do, what was happening, what was going on. He would've known the risks of every situation.

He's not, though.

The police and military don't seem like they have a handle on what's happening either. The streets are chaos. The buildings are chaos. The government is chaos because no one knows how or why this happened. We don't know if those at the Capitol even know what's going on. They could know, they could not. There's no telling, and if they do know they're ignoring us and if they don't then they should.

We don't even know if the Capitol government knows there are some who survived the attack. We keep hoping they do, that someone out there has a plan.

But what if the Capitol was the place demolished and we are the survivors?

No one has control here. There are riots every night and there are fires outside the windows of the guardhouse where I stand. We should be protecting the people of the city, but our commanders aren't sure where to send us or if they're doing the right thing by sending civilians to the borders of the city.

I don't know if what they're doing is right either, but Blaine would've been the first volunteer. He would've been the one to lead a group to the Capitol, to the other cities to see if we're the only survivors. It's up to us now. Me and Naomi and Bridget and Ian and Connor.

We have to be the ones to go to the Capitol. We have to be the ones to take back control. And we have to be the ones to stop the riots and the fires from burning the rest of this hulking ruin of the city I once loved to the ground.

Excerpt from the Journal of Logan Hayes

16 September 2142

March 19, 2021 19:43

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1 comment

Kyd Craimer
22:41 Mar 24, 2021

Love apocalypse stuff and very creative to come from that first line. I just started writing so everything I say take with a grain of salt. It's written as a journal entry which I good I think that's a good way to take the prompt. But a lot of exposition is delivered as if Logan is talking to the audience when there is none that he's aware of. So I think like writing is as small bits and pieces of what happened in the past like "It's been a week since Blaine died." or whatever could work and then go further to explain his significance. Alter...

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