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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1846709-How-the-Snowflakes-Fall
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by Orion Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1846709
Three . Three souls embark on their journeys throughout a post apocolyptic Earth.
Avis pulled his scarf tighter around his face as the chilling wind pierced any exposed part of his skin with needles. He looked up at the sun, blurry and diffused amidst the cloud cover. Intricate snowflakes stuck to his large circular goggles, refracting the available light into an array of miniature rainbows that splashed across his pale face. His hood once again shot back off his head, allowing the freezing air permit to attack his ears, and he yet again pulled it back up in a futile attempt to keep it there.

Glancing down, Avis saw the snow on the road below him zip past as the tires of the jeep bit into the frozen particles as fast as it could. To his right, he saw a trio of floating airships on the horizon, so far away they looked like bulbous insects. At this rate they would be in Steamfell by the end of the day, making good time compared to the other traders across Anatarse.

If they could get into Steamfell and set up shop before the other merchants, they could trade their wares and return home before the madness of Barterfest engulfed them.

Avis adjusted his weight and glanced at his father.

Jacob Freedman wore a hard face, given to him by years of traveling, as he guided their jeep across the icy plain, but his dark blue eyes were still filled with a gentleness he shared with those around him.

His gloved hands gripped the lustrous black wheel even tighter as they ascended onto an old world overpass.

"Look sharp son, bandits favor this overpass", said Jacob as the jeep climbed higher.

'Thats for sure', thought Avis, remembering their encounter with the thieving sons of bitches the previous year.

They had arrived on the overpass and reached the crest, where a group of four bandits had used some ancient wrecked automobiles to construct a roadblock. One of the bandits, a tall pale man that had been wearing lots of, probably stolen, jewelry, had stopped their jeep, and tried to take some of Jacobs jewels and metals to add to his collection. Avis' father gave him some lead to add to his face instead.

The gunfight had been quick, Jacob being the marksmen he was. Avis on the other hand, had sat frozen in his seat like a coward.

He wasn't much in to fighting. Avis only braved the treacherous journey each year with his father because he was better with people. Therefore, he was able to bargain more efficiently.

And although Jacob was a jeweler, they couldn't eat or drink jewelry, so they had to sell it to the wealthy folks of Steamfell for as much as they could get in order to feed his mother and siblings back home.

They reached the crest of the overpass, the sun covered by the thick puffy clouds, like the center of a fire billowing white smoke.

Avis adjusted his goggles and shifted in his seat, mentally crossing his fingers. He sucked in the frigid air through his nostrils in an attempt to calm his nerves. He didn't want to encounter bandits, or anyone for that matter.

His shoulders drooped slightly as his eyes scanned the horizon and they beheld a lone figure leaning against the siding of the overpass, a dark silhouette amongst the light.

As they came ever closer, he was able to make out details of the lone wanderer. It was a male, and he was wearing a black leather jacket and thick pants with a scarf around his face. The man was standing next to an old motorbike, laying flat on the eroded asphalt. And upon closer inspection, he had a rifle strapped to his back.

"Hm, wonder what his doing, just sittin' out here all by himself", Jacob thought aloud.

"I don't know... He's armed dad"

"Who isn't out here, Son, who isn't?"

It was rhetorical and Avis knew it, but the armed man still made him nervous, even from afar.

The man pushed himself off the siding and began to wave them down as they approached.

Jacob slowed the jeep to a stop beside the lone wanderer, brakes squealing slowly.

"What can I do ya for, stranger?", Jacob asked, smiling.

The man came closer and put his hands on the door of the jeep and leaned on them, sighing, steam escaping from his mouth.

"Well, thank you much, kind sir for stopping", said the leather clad man, slowly and deliberately, "My motorbike was on its last legs and finally gave out as you can see. I was on my to way Flatrock, it's my home you see, and I was wondering if I could hitch a ride to wherever you're off to"

'Flatrock', Avis thought, 'Thats hundreds of miles from here...'

"Well Stranger, my boy and I here are trekking to Steamfell for Barterfest", replied Jacob cheerfully enough, "But I would be willing to give you a lift there, where you could perhaps find transportation of another sort."

"Steamfell...", The strangers eyes narrowed slightly, "Yeah... Yeah, I suppose that would work, I'll tag along with a caravan or something from there, yeah, ok I'll come"

"Alright, climb in the back", said Jacob.

The Stranger nodded, pulling his scarf up over his slightly blued nose, then doing the same to the hood of the leather jacket he adorned. As the hood covered and matted down his short jet black hair, a shadow was cast over his shallow features, giving him a slightly mysterious air. Well, more mysterious than a stranger normally is.

The stranger began to jump over the side of the jeep to settle into the back seat when Jacob said, "Um, one thing though, if you wouldn't mind terribly, I'd like to keep your weapon up here", motioning to a nook between the front seat where his own firearm was, "sorry, it's just not smart to trust anyone blindly out here"

The Stranger nodded and began to reach for the shoulder strap that carried his rifle, "Understood, I would consider you daft if you did otherwise, it's the least I can do for you giving me a ride. Quite a few others passed by without a second glance"

Disappointment stabbed Avis. As Jacob set the rifle next to him and began to drive once more, Avis asked, "Others? Did they look like us, you know, merchants and traders?"

The man settled himself into the seat, flipping his hood up once more as the wind caught it. He squinted his eyes as the snow flew into them.

"Well, I was more pissed'n anything, so I didn't really take note of what the bastards looked like, but yeah, they had bunch of boxes like you kind strangers"

'Damn, we probably won't be as early as we thought... Oh well, we'll make due'

The stranger rubbed his eyes, the wind and snow beginning to really take their toll.

Turning back around, Avis reached into his pack that was between his feet, and began rummaging through it.

Once again turning to face the stranger, Avis held out his hand. In it were his spare pair of goggles, a little scratched here and there, but still usable.

"Here", said Avis, "Take these, you need 'em more than I do anyways"

The man took them off Avis' hand.

"God, how many times am I gonna have ta thank you people", he said as he slid the eye ware around his head, "You are quite literally a blessing... Sorry, I've yet to catch your name"

"Avis Freedman", he said while extending his hand.

"And I'm Jacob Freedman", chimed in Avis' father as the stranger shook his sons hand, "And who would you be, Stranger?"

Nestling his hands back in his jacket pockets, the stranger replied, "Name's Fray"

A pause.

Avis cocked his head to one side, "Just... Fray?"

"Yep, just Fray", he said, not unkindly.

An awkward silence suffocated the air between them, ripped away by the wind as quick as it had come.

"So, Fray", began Jacob, "wha'dya do to live out here?"

Fray sniffed to clear his cold and running nose, "I have... Um, I have special...talents that I prosper from", he said, somewhat uncomfortably.

Jacob chuckled, "Heh heh, so you're either a whore or an assassin, eh?", he glanced back at their passenger and continued to laugh at his own joke. Avis couldn't help but smirk.

When Fray didn't reply, Jacob cleared his throat, "Uhm, hm, well uh, your business is your own I suppose", he said quickly.

Fray gave a short nod as the wind whipped his hood down, yet again.

The awkward silence stretched out longer and longer as the jeep sped across the ancient, frozen roadway. Avis glanced back at their passenger, whose downcast gaze was silent and unmoving, not unlike the depressing Old World surroundings.

Wrecked and collapsed buildings began to pockmark the surrounding area, soon turning into a full fledged city sprawl.

Remnants of what humanity once was surrounded them. Old relics, statues of leaders, skyscrapers of success, housing for loving families. All destroyed and broken.

The tainted ashes of what once was mixed with the pure white snow of what is now,swirling and twirling in a never ending ballet of hope and dread.

They passed a series of ancient storefronts, their glass broken and bristling like the maw of some beast. Avis glimpsed his reflection, seeing a boy of sixteen, frail and afraid, but with striking blue eyes that could delve into the souls of the men and women amongst these treacherous wastes.

Avis knew that was his only true advantage as far as surviving in this world. He could lie, persuade, and cheat his way out of almost anything. That is, until the bullets began to fly.

He was little to no good in a fight, he couldn't shoot and couldn't brawl. He could simply run, run, and run some more.

He hated it out here, preferring the safety of his home in Hillnest. Hillnest, where is was warm, where people were kind, and where bandits hardly neared.

Hillnest was a small example of the sparse settlements that had begun to rebuild in the last half century. Hubs of civilization and safety, havens of solitude.

Avis had grown up there, Hillnest, with a few other children his age, some he liked, some he didn't. But the one he preferred above all was his best friend, Teck.

He and Teck had always been in each others company from a young age, playing games and getting into mischief. They always had each others backs, well until about a year ago when Teck left to join a trade caravan. He'd invited Avis, but he had chickened out, not willing to leave his home and family. It was a decision he would for-

The tire blew before they even heard the shot, ejecting a palpable wave a sound that penetrated Avis' core.

His stomach lurched as the jeep swerved into a hard right. The forward momentum was too much for the vehicle as it began to tip and eventually go into a roll.

Vertigo engulfed Avis as the jeep rolled once, twice, thrice. He was thrown from his seat onto the road, he heard a muted cracked and white noise filled his ears as his forehead impacted the concrete of the road.

Pain rippled through his consciousness, subduing all other thought.

Jewels and precious metals rained down around him, tinkling like a child's music box.

He could faintly here the jeep come to a stop, but nothing more. His whole body felt numb and limp, but Avis was able to flail himself slowly onto his back.

The jeep was upside down, it's wheels still spinning erratically. Avis' vision switched back and forth between double and blurred, making things hard to register.

Three back clad figures rushed into his field of vision, approaching the jeep with what Avis assumed to be guns of some sort, raised and ready.

Two of the figures bent over by the jeep and began to yank at something. They pulled out the limp bodies of Fray and Jacob, dragging them away from the jeep.

Now THAT registered with Avis.

"H-h-help!", Avis was able to force out, faintly realizing he was spitting out blood as well.

The third black figure turned around, and approached the battered Avis. He stood over him.

Avis could barely make out the unmistakable orange picture of a gust of wind, the insignia of Steamfell, on the armor of the suited mans chest.

"You and your friends made a huge mistake, son", said a deep, gravelly voice.

Before Avis could respond, something cracked against his head, and blackness engulfed him.


•••



Tiberius "Teck" Teckle wiped the salty sweat from his blond brow, the scent of bitter blood engulfed him, churning his stomach ever so slightly.

The winged freak he'd just domed twitched, threatening to get back up.

Teck aimed his rifle at the creatures head and pulled the trigger. Blue blood burst from the things head, painting Teck's brown leather armor a brand new color.

The acrid stench of gunpowder replaced the blood.

The bleeding form sickened Teck, 'They look SO human!', he thought, but no, they couldn't be. No human could move that fast or be that strong.

A shrill scream exploded behind him, icing his blood and opening the flood gates of a new wave of fear.

Teck whirled around to see a rusty, blood drenched makeshift sword protruding from one of his colleague's chest.

As her blood dripped off the tip of the blade, Kindles eyes stared into Teck, a penetrating look of hopelessness that shook his core. Her long, sweat soaked bangs shifted slightly in the light breeze.

The sword was withdrawn with a sickening sucking sound, but the only sound Teck could hear was his own heartbeat, and the roaring river of rage inside him.

As Kindle slumped to the ground, a muted staccato beat resounding from the wooden planks at her feet, the snarling Avian was revealed.

It's face was entirely of human structure, one would not be able to differ it from anything if it weren't for the eyes. The whites were like anybody else's, but it's grey-blue iris encompassed the entire center, leaving no blackness for the pupil. It was average height and wore taut, white sheet-like clothing. Curled around its arms from the shoulders to a gauntlet-like structure on its hands were it's furled wings that were made of a dark blue metal-ish material, forming an almost impenetrable armor. The Avian was an artistic work of savage beauty.

Teck was never really into art.

He brought his rifle up in a fluid motion, deftly pulled back the arming bolt; He felt the satisfying click of another round sliding into place within the chamber.

He rested his sights on the Avians chest, right on the heart. He pulled the trigger, the guns deafening retort of rage and fury buffeting his ears.

Almost faster than he could process it, Teck's heart sank as the Avian fluidly unfurled it's left wing, metal sliding on metal, and brought it up as a makeshift shield, deflecting Teck's deadly round.

Awestruck, Teck could only stand and watch as his opponent furled his wings and dashed at him, the deadly blade trailing behind like a loyal lycan.

When the monstrosity was but five yards away something clicked in Teck, primal instinct telling him to get the hell outta there. Fear struck him as he began to backpedal, this thing was faster than any human, he was too late!

Four yards.

Obscenities flew through Teck’s thoughts, fear engulfing him, this was it this was it thiswasit thiswasitthiswasit!

Three yards.

The Avian jumped higher than any natural being, legs bent back and raising its foul sword, the rusty and bitten edge reflecting in the glaring Sun; an insidious whisper reached Teck’s ears as it sliced through the air.

Two yards.

Teck froze, he couldn’t escape, this was futile. His already cold blood hit sub zero as the sinister bird-like creature descended upon him, like the bloodied blade of the guillotine.

One yard.

The doomed trader closed his eyes, excepting his fate, today was it, he only wished th-

BANG!

The Avians head jerked to this side while he was still in midair, blue tinted blood billowing out of the gaping gash burrowed within the creatures head. Its momentum cartwheeled it over the side of The Ethereal, spinning and spiraling in an acrobatic ballet farther and farther down.

Dumbfounded, Teck could only stare at where his assailant had been.

“Oi! Ge’off yer ass’n bring the lassie down ter the med bay!”

Teck’s head snapped up to his right to witness the heavy accented Captain McFarland, wielding both a smoking semi automatic pistol and a long buck knife, staring right at him from the deck above.

“Di’ye no’unerstan me, me boy?”

“Well, to be-”

“Shu’it! ge’yer and hers asses down to ter med bay! Then’ge yer own ass ba’up here an’ elp us kill these damned thins!”

Before Teck could respond to his Captains barely coherent command, the brave man turned to take on a screeching Avian.

Finally able to snap out of his daze, Teck ran over to where Kindle lay. She was still breathing, but barely. He strapped his rifle to his back, the leather strip rubbing his neck, and cradled her head and knees as he lifted her up.

Kindles soft and unconscious body nestled against Teck’s, the blood seeping from her chest staining his leather armor yet another color.

He lifted her light figure up with relative ease, though his limbs were exhausted from the battle that had caught them all off guard.

As he turned, Teck witnessed Hammerdawn, floating about three hundred feet away and below, as well as Cloudwisp hovering only a few feet to the starboard side of his own ship, under the same sort of attack.

The Ethereal sister ship’s mounted guns blared from the sides of their hulls, tearing apart the sky in an attempt to slaughter the two dozen or so Avians terrorizing the airspace, threatening to bring down the dirigibles.

The barbarically graceful creatures had yet to figure out that the dual elongated balloons that kept the zeppelins aloft were made of a material impenetrable to all but the most fierce weapons, so they crawled along, poking and prodding with their swords, trying to rip into the bulbous structure.

More occupied with his current task, Teck ignored the chaos around him, focused on one thing: Saving Kindle.

He rushed along the side deck of The Ethereal, pushing through smokey air near the mounted machine guns and the ever present scent of blood and fear.

Finally he reached the entrance to the inside of the airship, he kicked open the door and ran down the dark hallway until he reached the bright and white med bay. The doctor, who possessed the cliche nickname of Doc, was hard at work on an injured mercenary, with a few others moaning on the beds against the wall.

Blood squirted onto Doc’s already stained medical apron as he tried to apply pressure to a sliced artery in the mercs thigh. He tried and tried, but the rushing river of blood refused to be dammed.

Slowly, the injured man relaxed, and Teck knew he had slipped into the world of ghosts and spirits.

“Damn!,” exclaimed Doc, whipping a bloodied bandage against the metal table where the corpse now lay. He looked up and saw Teck and then Kindle, “sigh...bring her over here, I’ll see what can be done”, said the dark skinned man as he lifted the cadaver and set him on an empty bunk, covering him with the sheets.

Obeying, the distraught trader paced to the table, gently setting down his beloved companion on the cold, flat, and blood stained surface.

As Doc returned to the table, Teck stepped backed and let the man do his work, biting his dirty fingernails as his nerves racked against his chest so hard he thought his ribs might crack.

Using syringes, bandages, tape, gauze, needles and thread, Doc worked rapidly and professionally. After five long minutes, the doctor set his tools down, letting out a deep breath.

“...She’ll live, got lucky, she did, the blade somehow went right between lungs and spine...but she will need rest, and lots of it. We will have to get her better help when we reach the city,”

“Thank you, Doc, thank you,” replied Teck, expressing as much gratitude as one as exhausted as himself could.

“It’s what I’m here for, Teck...I just wish some of the others had been as lucky as Kindle...anyways, I have run out of bunks here, so you will have to lay her down in your barracks,” and with that, Doc solemnly hung his head, and leaned against the operating table.

Nodding in silence, Teck picked up Kindle and slowly walked out the door and down the hall to his quarters. It was long and narrow, ten bunk beds bordering either wall. He went to his and Kindles in the far left corner of the room.

He set her down gently on the rough sheets of the bottom bunk, covering her with the blanket up to the waste, careful not to get blood on it, she’d never let him live that one down.

Even in poor condition, Teck thought she looked more ravishing than any goddess in heaven. He caressed her dark hair away from her eyes, and gently bent to kiss her on the brow. He couldn't comprehend the weight of the fear that had berated him when the Avian had injured her, how could someone he loved so much be taken away so fast? Teck had gotten lucky, and he knew that, but he swore he would have his vengeance. He would make every single Avian pay for what they had almost taken from him. They were vicious and vile creatures, attacking caravan flotillas, lone travelers, and those who are just plain unlucky. They would pay. They would all pay.

His Kindle had kindled a flame of hatred within him previously unknown, he shook with rage he himself could no fully understand, but it was there. And he almost...liked it.

He kissed the brow of his Kindle once again, satisfied that she was safe and sound, he hurried back up to the main deck.

As he stepped outside he was met with only the whirring of The Ethereal’s and her sisters dual propellers. Mystified by sudden shift in demeanor the outside world had take, he turned and walked towards the stairs that led to the upper deck. He past solemn faced mercenaries and traders as the cleaned their weapons on the hard, now red stained, deck.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Captain McFarland at the helm, the winds whipping through his long black hair. His eyes staring straight forward, as if the horrendous attack had never occurred.

But that’s how it was in Anatarse, bad things happened to you all the time, there was no rest for the wary, out here everything was fair game. Teck understood that, but despised it. Was there no trust, no well being, no hope for a better future? He guessed not.

Teck shifted as his sweat cooled in the crisp, cold air. They were cruising at a gentle pace; soft delicate snowflakes fell upon them. Individual mosaics, each with its own simple yet complex story. They all fell, yes, but exactly how they fell, well, that’s what makes the difference.

His eyes glanced to the body of a dead Avian, blood now dried on the hard wooden planks, its metallic wings half furled. He hated these creatures, the ones who had hurt Kindle. He had heard of them before, but had never encountered them, even after a year of being on Captain McFarland’s crew.

He had never thought he would be apart of a caravan flotilla while he was nestled safely in Hillnest, but his thirst for adventure had won over his apprehension. He had seen more things in one year than in his entire life, and did not regret one moment of it. Well, he did regret leaving behind Avi-

“Thar she is!,” bellowed the captain, pointing straight ahead.

Teck looked up, and upon the horizon he beheld the great walls, made up of Old World sailing ships, formed in a circle before The Great Freeze began, settled solidly into the ground as the waters froze up.
And beyond those impenetrable walls, Teck beheld the silhouette of Steamfell.


•••


Lucy Kingston could only discern one thing, her bones felt like icicles, icicles that had shattered into a billion pieces and tore through her skin like an feral hound through flesh.

She tried to scream, to cry out in ill deserved agony, but her mouth refused to yield her pleas. Her lips were frozen shut!

Her eyes moved frantically beneath unopened lids, muscles desperately trying to retract them, but they too were frozen in place.

Bereft and disheartened, she cast her thoughts out amongst the cave that was her consciousness, sifting through the darkness in hope of finding a solution to her predicament, but she was answered only with echoes of incoherent fear.

So she slumped to the cold wet floor of her cave, sobbing within herself.

Where am I?

Who am I?

Why? Why? Why!

Amidst her paralyzed consciousness, she pondered her thoughts of fear, there was no escape. Lucy could feel herself slowly slipping from sanity, thoughts repeated over and over in her head, there was no stopping them!

The sound of her fear, drip-dropping through her cave, pounded at her ears, blocked out all thoughts. There was no hope for her, and as Lucy came to except this, she began to give up. She retreated farther and farther into her dark cave, deeper and deeper within herself.

How long it took her to get there, Lucy didn't know, but eventually she happened upon a dark void, darker than the blackness surrounding her.

She knew all she had to do, to end these torturous moments, was to seep into this void, to jump into oblivion.

She edged closer to the void, stared into its depths.

Just as Lucy was about to succumb to the void, dull light began to throb in her field of vision. She squinted and shielded her eyes from the golden orb, bright as the sun a midst the darkness.

It hovered before her, right over the void, bobbing up and down gently. It beckoned to Lucy.

She outstretched her hand, a benevolent warmth radiated from the orb, enticing her further.

Her fingers closed around the orb and a blinding light flashed, she gasped in awe.

She was in another place, it felt familiar yet ancient. Where was it? Was this... was this home? And who was this man in front of her, with graying hair and a warm smile. Dad?

"Hello Sweetheart, I hope you are doing well," Lucy's father said with a smile.

"Dad! Dad, where the hell am I?," Lucy yelled desperately, this made no sense, what was happening!

"Sweetheart... Sweetheart, I love you. I enjoyed raising you for the eighteen years of your life. I have watched you grow, I have seen you happy and joyful, as well as sad and downtrodden-"

"Dad! Where. Am. I!," Could he not here her?

"Lucy, I hope you realize I did the best I could with what I had, not everybody could be saved. It just couldn't be done. The world you will set out into will have people, yes, but they cannot be allowed to remain, they are rabble, tainted and primitive. As you and our people emerge, you will be armed with the knowledge to rebuild the world, and they are not. Do not allow them to stand in your way, you are the rightful leader to this world. Oh, how I wish I could be there with you, to watch the rebuilding of humanity from the ashes... but alas, the same rabble of which I speak ended those hopes. I had to stay back and fight off the mobs trying to get into our facility, save the rest, but of course you know that. Lucy, when you awake, you must lead the our people, the will follow you at first, but if you show weakness they will mutiny, and then humanity may never be restored to this world. You must be steadfast and strong. I give you this advice: Put your people before yourself, they will honor you for this. Be strong and meaningful in your declarations, follow through with promises and threats. And lastly, remember you mission, compromise nothing to see that it is complete. Now, my love, my Lucy, go forth and conquer, go forth and bring honor to our people!"

Lucy's father disappeared as soon as he had came. Lucy was frozen with shock, but before she could contemplate the words of this apparition, she began to fall forward. She spun her arms back, but it was too late!

She plummeted into the void, darkness, blacker than black, engulfed her.

A wet warmth spread over her, Lucy's eyes shot open,the pain in her limbs subsided, and a blinding florescent lights stabbed her eyes.
© Copyright 2012 Orion (ninjafish22 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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