The Distressed

The earth was shattered. Wars with weapons of destruction had wreaked havoc on its ecosystem for decades before us. People had taken everything that was good about the planet and used it up. You were lucky to see a plant these days, and if you did it was likely out to eat you. Thankfully, the plants still cleaned the air giving us oxygen, and some food based plant life still exists, but much of the plants evolved with thorns, literally. Humans had long cleared out any old structures and now they sunk into the ground big barren reminders of how humanity had gone wrong in the past.

In places where humans had once lived, where the shells of buildings stood tall into the sky even having sunken into the sand you could find the metal beasts. The metal beasts were not alive, or even functional. They were corpses, with a metal shell and round wheels. I think humans used to drive them. If you found a metal beast you wanted to stay away from it, they were death traps and if you got stuck in one the wanderers would get you.

Wanderers were dangerous in their own right, animals that had become mutated by the pollution that we had created. Even the ones who fed on the plant life were dangerous. Wanderers consisted of carnivores and herbivores. They range in size, but one thing was consistent: they were all out to get you. It was something about human beings, I am not sure what I am no scientist, but maybe it was our smell? But as soon as a wanderer sniffed you out, you became a target and they would not stop until they died, or you did. They resemble the animals I saw in a magazine one time, only bigger and much meaner.

Humans lived in encampments around the world. Small inconspicuous groupings of peoples in villages surrounded by walls made of spikes, metal, whatever scrap that we could find to protect ourselves. We took care to avoid dense populations or living in cities as you were more likely to run into situations of violence and crime. Each village had its own set of rules, but things like murder, theft, and vandalism were still frowned on and punishment was doled out as the towns elders deemed fit.

In an encampment outside of Boston is where my village was located. I knew it was called this because our reader said so and because there was a big metal wall that stuck out of the ground that says B-O-S-T-O-N. People called me Shane, but I think my mother had given me a different name. I would ask her but she is dead.

“Shane…Shane…SHANE!!!, would you get your head out of your damn ass please we need your help!”

Shane looked up at Marcus who stood towering over him with his hands on his hips looking menacingly annoyed. “God Marcus, how am I ever going to record our history if you don’t let me write. What do you want?”

Marcus sneered and laughed at me. “Not like anyone is going to read it besides you and the reader anyways.”

Reading was a skill that few possessed. Our reader, Jamie, had taught me. When they found me I was in a metal beast next to the metal remains of my mother or so it was assumed. The hunting group had been out looking for food and scavenging pieces from buildings inside of Boston. They came around a corner and nearly walked face first into a wanderer. It was a small one, it had black fur and was about the size of a small hunting dog with black stripes along its back and long tufted ears.

Jaime told me that it looked like a bobcat and showed me pictures of it in a book she had. The hunters killed it and heard whimpering sounds coming from the metal beast it had been guarding, and there they found me wrapped up in rags and tucked under one of the chairs in the metal beast. The wanderer had not been able to get at me because I had been shoved under too deep and its head was too big so it had been tearing at the side of the metal beast trying to break through the shell.

They had brought me back to the village and to Jamie, who was one of the village's elders. She was older and wiser than anyone else in the village and her parents had taught her how to read, and their parents before them and so on so forth or so the story goes. She taught me to read and to write while she raised me telling me it was important to have a recorder.

“SHANE!!!!!!!” Marcus shouted. I looked up at him and gave a wry grin. I was sadly known for getting lost in my own thoughts and frequently called a daydreamer. Setting my papers aside I untangled myself from the mess of blankets that I was beneath. It was getting close to the cold time and the temperatures were low enough that you could see your breath.

“Yes Marcus, I am sorry for being such a dreamer today.”

Marcus took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “Whatever, let's go, the hunters returned with a report and Jamie asked me to fetch you to record it.”

Nodding and gathering up a fresh set of papers, ink and a sharpened metal rod I trailed behind Marcus to the village center where the hunters, their families and Jamie were gathered. Stopping near the fire I noticed there seemed to be less than before. Lee and Ash were missing. The hunters looked tired and a few were bleeding.

Jamie looked at me and waved me over with a hand. “They encountered a distressed.” She whispered to me as I approached.

I felt the blood leave my face and I struggled to breathe for a moment. “A distressed?” I whispered hurriedly. She nodded, her lips a flat grim line.

The distressed, perhaps the most cruel of things that this world had gifted us. The distressed were human beings. It wasn’t really known what caused them to transform but if someone was too sad, or too full of anger or despair they had the potential to become distressed. I had been so lucky as to never see one, but other members of the village had seen several of them and had told me about it. Some former members of the village had actually become them or so I had been told. They described them as massive terrifying creatures with the face of a human but the body of a monster with only a singular goal. Kill everything, everyone in sight. There were no tell-tale symptoms of someone becoming a distressed. You could be standing there having a conversation and they could transform. You would probably die in the aftermath of their transformation. It was a mystery that even Jamie had been able to solve in her understanding of the history of our world through the various books she read.

One of the hunters came over to Jamie and looked over at me seeing me standing beside her and gave a scoffing sound. “Are you really going to leave the recording to a child who's just barely past his eighteenth moon?”

Jamie looked up at him and then over to me. “Shane has been studying under me since he was a child, he's quite capable of reciting your experience onto paper.”

Shaking his head Thomas scowled down at Jamie. “I am sorry Jamie, it's been a long rough day, I mean no disrespect. We lost two good hunters today. Lee was…” Thomas choked up a bit, his voice becoming hoarse. “Lee was an amazing hunter, she will be missed.” Grief clouded his face and tears welled up in his eyes.

Resting a hand on his forearm Jamie looked up at his stricken face. “Be careful Thomas, grief leads us down a dangerous path. Celebrate her life, her successes and honor her memory by remembering her well.”

Thomas nodded and seemed to compose himself for a moment before clapping a meaty palm down on my shoulder. “Come boy, record the event, and our remembrances of Lee and Ash.”

I followed him over to the fire and sat down on one of the carved stone benches. The stone was cold and I wished I had brought my blanket with me, but the fire was warm at least. Placing my papers beside me I pulled out my ink and the flat stone tablet that I used to put my papers on when I recorded somewhere that was not my room. I would take an outline of the experience the hunters shared with me and put it to complete sentences later, more than likely tonight after I retired to my hut.

Looking up at Thomas and the hunters who now sat around the fire on the benches I nodded. “You may begin.”

Thomas started. The hunters had gone to an area in the outskirts of Boston. This area was densely populated with small buildings that we assumed were residences in the past. They came across a small group of people that had made a small encampment in the center of the housing structures. It was a small spattering of people, a mother and two small children and their father.


The hunters shared some of their quarry with them as they seemed to be struggling with food. They were eating around the fire when the woman and the youngest child who was about two moon cycles old decided to go wash up in the stream where they got water and retire. The hunters were talking with the father about possibly coming to join our village on a trial basis as we had to be cautious who joins us.

They heard a scream from behind them where the wife and child had gone to wash up and rushed to the scene. A canid wanderer, one that resembled a large wild feline had found the mother and child when they were bathing and had torn the child in half. When the hunters arrived they found the mother being attacked by the wanderer. It had taken her entire arm in its mouth and was worrying at the flesh with its teeth, thick viscous mucus and drool dripping from its jowls. The hunters sprang into action and attacked it. Stabbing it with their spears and shooting arrows at it. But it was too late. The woman was severely injured and died during the fight.

Lee, one of the archers, was holding up the rear when the husband came onto the scene. Seeing his wife being attacked and bleeding, and his young child torn in two the distressed transformation began.

At this point Thomas stopped speaking. His voice trembled and he took a shuddering breath.
“I think Carol needs to tell the next part as she was closer to Lee.”

Shane nodded and looked to Carol, after noting down a change in the narrator. It was important to do this so that should someone have, say, committed a crime and all witness statements were not taken, it could be difficult to figure out who the culprit was. In this case, it was important to take down several narrations to ensure that every detail about the transformation was recorded.


Carol took a deep breath and waited for Shane to nod in her direction. Watching as he finished his notes she twisted her hands in her lap. She wasn’t nervous about telling her story, she was nervous she could not maintain her composure. She could feel the weight of grief on her shoulders as Lee was not just a hunter to her; they had been lovers for several years. She could feel tears just behind her eyelids as she blinked rapidly and took another breath trying to calm herself. It was important to keep her emotions in check. She looked to Shane who stopped his notes and looked up to her and gave a nod.

Shane watched as Carol twisted her fingers in her lap, she looked upset. He could practically feel the waves of grief washing over him. He felt anxious, he was not sure this was the appropriate time to be asking her questions. Would it be better to make her wait a day or two to come to terms with the loss of Lee? He had his suspicions they were something more than friends having seen them together in the past.

Tilting his head he looked at Carol. “Do you need some time before you share?” He kept his voice low and soft meaning for it to be calming for the clearly upset woman.

Carol narrowed her eyes, the sadness she was feeling swiftly turning into anger. “No, I am fine.” she stated her tone clipped and sharp. “Just..give me a second” she stated trying to compose herself.

Shane nodded, and turned to collect his drink from the stump beside him. He picked up the wooden carved cup and sipped the water watching her over the rim. He could not deny that he felt some concern for Carol and her ability to share her story in a calm manner, but it was not his job to call out the adults.

Carol looked at her lap, staring down at her hands in what appeared to be deep concentration. Picking at a bit of loose skin next to one of her fingernails. “The first thing I heard was bones cracking. It was wet sounding, squelching, then just this loud snap, followed by another and another. I looked behind me and his face… it was melting away. His humanity was melting away.”

Carol stopped for a moment and took a shuddering breath. “His mouth was open but no sound was coming from him, it was like a silent scream. One eyeball popped out of the socket for a moment and then was sucked right back in as his head elongated and got bigger. Then… Then he..”

Carol cut back a sob taking a gasp of air in the process. “Then, he screamed. His whole body seemed to stretch to double its size then bounce back and you could hear every bone in his body break all at once. It was ..horrible.

Carol went silent, flexing her hand from open to a fist a few times. “It took him a few moments to, I guess, get through the pain of it before he moved. His arms were twice as long as they were and there were chunks of nail, or fingerbone that had come through the tips of his fingers. So it was like he had these razor sharp bloody claws”

Eyes looking haunted, Carol looked up at Shane. “Lee was closest to him and he turned to run towards me and the guy… no the distressed, just reached out one gross long bloody arm and tore him in half like it was nothing. Sliced clean through the middle. Lee didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. It was just over.. Just like that, like he had never been there in the first place.”

Carol chewed on her bottom lip pulling it into her mouth. Shane could see the bits of skin being peeled away by her teeth. He had written down her recounting thus far but had paused in his writing as he was not sure that she was done. He waited in silence not wanting to push the woman further into turmoil as her emotions needed to remain stable. It was clear that she was walking a tightrope of distress and it was a risk that he, nor the village could take.

Tears filled Carol's eyes and she looked up at Shane, disgust marring her plain, but homely features. “I ran…” she whispered. “I am a fucking coward, I RAN” The last words came out an angered yell. She looked down at her hands, ashamed in her outburst.

“I ran, I told everyone else to run. There was no way we could take a wanderer and a distressed. We had already suffered losses, and people were injured. I had to make choices, I had to make sacrifices. God.. I ran… Why did I run.. I left Lee behind. We can’t even bury his body!!!” Carol’s tears intensified creating dirty streaks down her grime covered cheeks. Her breathing was short little gasps as she attempted to prevent herself from sobbing outright.

Shane's job was not to judge. It was his role to listen with neutrality as she shared the experience with him and not make judgements on her decisions and why she made them. However, in this instance he felt that she was right. She saved several lives with her choice to tell the team to run, to escape with as minimal loss as possible.