Forced Evolution

Submitted into Contest #60 in response to: Write a post-apocalyptic story triggered by climate change.... view prompt

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Adventure Science Fiction

First the fires, then the floods. Islands sank into the cold depths of the ocean, the skies turned red as the world burned. Crops failed, water sources dried up, people began to drop like flies. Then scientists began trying their hand at something that should have remained untouched; DNA. At first, nobody saw the harm in trying, after all the world was dying and without evolving, it was believed we would die out. The experiments began on insects, little things such as increasing their size and changing their colour. Nobody thought it could possibly cause more harm than the world already faced. They were mistaken. One failed experiment later and a city was rubble. The world had faced dangers, but know they had created one just as deadly. The human race was on the brink of extinction, the world as ruled by the mutated.

“Haley?” Samuel asked. “Can you see anything?”

Glancing back, I watched as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip, the way he always did when he was nervous.

“No,” I whispered. “We should be fine if we’re quick and stay low.”

Together, hand in hand I pull my younger brother across the grassy field. We’re both crouching, hiding our bodies in the overgrown grass. The bag I wear on my back bounces up and down as we make our way towards the bunker. As we reach the hole in the ground, I’m quick to pull the door open. The screeching of metal on metal echoes throughout the forest.

“Quick,” I hiss, pushing Samuel forward. He scrambles down the ladder. I’m just as quick to follow. I seal the door behind us, tightening the lock.

The bunker is the only home Samuel and I have ever known, its four walls the only place we have ever felt safe. When I was younger, my mother would tell me stories of times before the mutated, but for the two of us, this world was ais all we have ever known.

I reach into my bag and spread the blackberries across the table. There’s a sizeable amount, enough to feed us both for the next two weeks. Samuel licks his lips as he reaches out and grabs two in his bony hands. I’m just as eager to eat, and soon we’ve both devoured all we can allow for; a few berries each. We’ll eat more later, but for now, this is all we can have. Rationing is essential if we want to survive. 

The bunker's only source of light comes from the candle on the table which I lit as soon as we entered. Our parents had been wise enough to stash enough lighters and candles in here when they had realised what was becoming of the world. I'm not sure what we will do when it all runs out, already the collection is lower than I've ever remembered it. I’ll probably have to break into some abandoned bunkers and steal the few that remain. Most bunkers were abandoned, you just have to know where to look.

I watched as Samuel pulled an old wooden box out from under the bottom bunk. We have bunk beds, there are two sets. One is shared by Samuel and I, the other was for our parents. I can barely remember a time they've been occupied. These days, it's used for storage. Samuel opened the lid with care and removed the knuckles from the top, they were kept in a plain mesh sack. The box holds the only source of entertainment either of us had ever known. There were are knuckles, a deck of cards and an old game of chess. Our parents did attempt to teach us to play, but neither of us can correctly remember. It was the same for reading and writing, there are skills we just haven't learnt. Samuel pulls the cord loose and the knuckles scattered across the ground. He gathers them up in his palm and tosses them into the sky, catching as many as he could on the back of his hand. Then he throws them up again and catches them in his palm. He turns around and smiles at me, beckoning for me to join. Although I long to, I can not. The journey to the top has taken its toll on me, and I am tired. I climb the ladder to my bunk and rest on my bed, not bothering to throw the old worn blanket over my figure. I lay there for some hours, staring at the ceiling. In my head, I imagine a better world, one where both Samuel and I have our parents and aren't forced to hide under the ground. I imagine being able to read and write, Samuel running around under the warmth of the sun. Although it is a dream, the thought still brings a smile to my face, something so rare these days. I doze off and dream of that better world, a place where we aren’t alone.

The sounds in the night bring me back to consciousness. No matter how many years I hear them, they still manage to send a shiver running down my spine. I poke my head over the side of the rail to check on Samuel. He lays beneath his blanket, deep in sleep. I wonder why he never wakes up during these hours. Even as a baby, he never reacted the way the rest of us had. The sounds last for the better half of the night. I get down and check the candle; it's half its previous size. I grab my serving of berries and eat them in silence, leaning up against the wall. Without realising it, I begin to drum my fingers against my knee in an effort to drown out the noises of the night.

Samuel and I leave the bunker the following morning, this time for water. Water, like food, has always been a challenge to come by. Sometimes I’ve been certain we were going to die of dehydration, but ever since I found the waterhole we’ve managed. My bag now holds four flasks, each made from metal. Each time they clash against each other they make a clanging noise. I wish they didn’t, the noise can only lead to bad things. Samuel walks beside me, I stand protective of him, he never leaves my side. I don’t know how I would cope if I lost him too. He’s all I have left.

When the water comes into sight, we both give a sigh of relief. It’s probably the most beautiful thing either of us have ever seen. The waterhole is surrounded by trees that reach over it, providing a canopy of shade. The patches that go without shade shimmer like diamonds in the sunlight. It truly is breathtaking. As we reach the water’s edge Samuel reaches in and splashes the water up into his face. He begins to scrub the dirt away with his hands. After filling the bottles to the brim, I do the same. I roll up my sleeves and splash the water over my arms. For us, this is the equivalent of a bath. The water is refreshing against my skin, especially with the hot temperatures we constantly face on the surface. When I look up, I realise we are not alone.

Across from us, crouching in the shade, under the trees sits a small girl. She looks about seven, with wide sunken eyes, brown hair, littered with twigs and a torn jacket.

“Hello,” I call. The girl notices our stares and runs. I shout out again, but it does no use.

“Wait here,” I tell Samuel and follow after her.

I’m lucky she isn’t as fast as me, or I would never have been able to catch up. When I do I grab her shoulder and spin her around to face me.

“Let go!” She shrieks.

I’m forced to cover her mouth. She's too loud. We don’t want to attract any more attention than we already have.

“Are you trying to get us killed,” I hiss. No matter the situation it still feels strange to talk to another human other than my brother, it has been too long.

She squirms in my grip, but I hold tight. Eventually, she falls limp and I decide to take this chance to talk.

“My name’s Haley,” I say. An introduction seemed right. “I live in these parts and I’ve never seen you around.”

I remove my hand from her mouth, praying she won't scream.

“Are you going to hurt me?” Her voice comes out shaky.

“No,” I reply, shocked. “Why would I do that?”

She shivers. “Mamma said things would hurt us up here.”

“There are,” I tell her. “But not us.” I point back the way Samuel still waits.

The smaller girl nods, her eyes water.

“They hurt her,” she whispers.

My heart aches for this young girl, she reminds me of myself. I don’t pry.

“What’s your name?”

“Marissa.”

"Where do you live, Marissa?” I ask.

She points the way she must have come.

“And your mother was the only person you had?”

She shakes her head.

“A father?”

“There were six of us,” she tells me. “I need to get back to them. Can you help me?”

Although I don’t have the faintest idea where she needs to go, I agree. If there’s any chance there are people out there I need to find them.

“We leave tomorrow,” I announce. “For the meantime, you can stay with us.”

We meet up with Samuel at the waterhole, and together we make our way back to the bunker.

Inside, Samuel is eager to play one of the games with Marissa. She looks around our home with open eyes. While the two of them play chess, I clear off the bottom bunk and grab a pillow and blanket for her to sleep with. I also pack our supplies for the journey. I know it will be dangerous, but if Marissa made it by herself than surely we can too. Marissa and Samuel stay up later than I would have imagined. Apparently, the games aren’t as boring with someone new to play with. I eventually join in, and we take in turns, challenging the winner. It’s the most fun we’ve had in a long time. Marissa even teaches us how to correctly play chess.

When I wake them up the following morning, I find the games left scattered about, and I’m quick to pack them up and stuff the box into Samuel’s bag. I’ve yet to tell him, but if we do find people than we’ll most likely be begging them to let us stay. Marissa sees me tuck a book into my bag.

“The Wonder’s of the World,” she reads.

My mouth drops as I hear those words, the words my parents would read to me before bed every night when I’d been younger. Those were the few words I knew how to read, the book was filled with pictures I liked to stare at.

“You can read?” I ask her.

“I’m still learning,” she announced. “When I get back Katy will probably help me.”

“That’s amazing,” I tell her. Marissa seems shocked at my excitement. I suppose she doesn’t understand what it's like to long to do what she can.

I leave the bunker with a skip in my step. The thought of making it there and learning to read keeps me going. We pass the waterhole and head in the direction Marissa swears she came. We soon enter unfamiliar territory, and I hold both Samuel and Marissa’s hands in my own. Although I’ve only just met her I already know I’ll protect her at all costs. I wonder if its the fact that I couldn’t save my parents that makes me this protective of others. This time, however, I won’t fail. We’ll all make it to Marissa’s. I can’t change the past, but I can choose my future.

We walk for hours on end, Marissa and Samuel both complaining about their shoes. I don’t blame either of them. We’ve walked a long way and it's even harder if your shoes don’t fit. Samuel’s are overly large, the ends stuffed with old rags. Marissa has the opposite problem, with hers being too short. That used to be me. I’m grateful that my feet grew to the same size as my mothers were. Her old shoes fit almost perfectly.

“Can you see anything familiar?” I continually ask Marissa.

She shakes her head. “Not yet, but as soon as I see the rocks, I’ll know.”

Every time I ask she says the same thing. I’ve given up asking what the rocks are because she won’t tell me. I follow blindly, fearing each step we take into the unknown.

As the sun disappears behind the clouds, the trees appear more menacing. They seem to spiral up into the sky, looming over us. Rain begins to drizzle. The droplets that make it through the canopy above our heads leave our clothes dotted and damp. The rain picks up and soon we’re all shivering, our arms wrapped around our chests to help keep in the warmth. I pick up a long sheet of bark and hold it over my head. The others soon do the same.

“Do you think we’re close?”

“I’m not sure,” Marissa admits.

I sigh and pick up my pace, urging them both to do the same.

“It’ll be dark soon,” I warn them. “We need to find cover.”

Half an hour later and we’re still out in the open. Our travel has slowed as we branch out and search for a safe spot to wait out the night. Although I’m trying my best to stay calm, both of them seem to notice my desperation.

“Will this do?” Samuel calls to me. I run over to him to check it out.

“We’ll need better,” I sigh.

Samuel begins to look around again when we all freeze as we hear the sound of humming. It seems to be coming from all directions. We can’t run.

“Cicadas!”

Samuel and Marissa need no other warning. We all jump into the long narrow ditch Samuel just found. I wait until last, pulling the sheet of tin over our heads. We all just manage to squeeze in, our bodies are all tangled together. It’s like we’re stuck in a cobweb. The smell of damp earth is all around us, it makes me want to gag. Although our backs ache and our arms and legs are twisted we all keep silent and don’t complain. I’m thankful that Marissa has been taught to do the same.

I listen intently as the cicadas approach, they’re ginormous wings heavily beating. I’ve never been more thankful that insects can't smell. If they had we’d have all been killed off years ago. The swarm beats above our very heads. I find it challenging to keep myself calm. The cicadas are quick to pass, but we still have the night to face.

We leave it a few minutes before exiting after we hear them leave. I get out first and signal for the other two to follow. The sun is out again, but it hangs low in the sky.

“That was close,” Samuel groans as he stretches.

“We're close,” Marissa tells us.

“What?” Samuel and I both say in unison.

“Those cicadas,” she hurriedly explains. “They pass through daily.”

Before I can ask more, she rushes off in the way we were headed. Samuel and I hurry after her. After a few minutes, we enter a field of rocks, each large and smooth. They tower above our heads. My brother and I stare up at them in amazement, until we notice Marissa has run on past us without sparing them a second glance.

She runs right up to the base of a tree situated in the centre.

“Help,” she calls back to us.

We run up beside her and get down onto our hands and knees. Together we bang on the steel bunker door. My heart pounds in my chest. On the other end, we can hear the turning of the lock and then it's cautiously opened. A rifle is pointed at my face, but when they see that I’m human its lowered.

“Name,” comes a man’s gruff voice.

“Michael!” Marissa yells. “It’s me, I’m back!”

“Blimey,” the man whispers under his breath. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m fine,” she sobs. “But, Mamma-”

Michael cuts her off. “We know. Now hurry up and get down here.”

Samuel and I were quick to follow Marissa and Michael down the ladder. When we got down, we were both welcomed with open arms. The three other people who lived in the bunker were Kristy, Anna and Hugo. Each of them was quick to invite us to live with them once I had explained our situation. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe, or as safe as I would ever be.

For the past seven years, it had just been Samuel and I against the world, but know we weren’t alone. If a group of people had lived a days walk away without us realising, then surely, there are more of out there than we imagined. I picture children such as myself struggling day in day out, alone. I will find them if its the last thing I do.

September 24, 2020 23:13

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