The Last Hope

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

Cassie Oakens is shivering. Her teeth are chattering, but she doesn't notice. All she wants is to get to the cottage that she can see farther into the field. She doesn't know if she can make it that far.

The field between her and the cottage seems endless, covered with inches of seemingly impassable snow. Each fumbling step only makes the distance seem longer. The bitter wind sweeps her hair across her face many times, strands of icicles lashing her face.

Just a few more steps...

But why should she bother? What was left in this world that was worth living for? For years, her salvation was the thought that she lived for herself, that life was worth living because she had been given the privilege to live.

That is how she survived the death of her family, of her friends and neighbors. She had watched as the ‘higher powers’ tore apart her life, killed the very young and the not-very old because they were ‘too weak to be useful.’ The idiots were too simple-minded to think of the inevitable rebellion.

Throw a hundred into a hell with a bolted back door and ten will figure out how to break the lock. Her father had said that to her once. Or was it Nick, her older brother? She didn’t know anymore.

Nick. She wonders where he is now.

Three years ago, he was taken away, but that didn’t mean he was dead. She just doesn’t know what to think...

“Nick!” Cassie’s voice runs through the tunnel they are in. They have spent the last month in hiding, inventing plans to take down the ‘gods.’ The likelihood of them taking any action is slim to none, but it is nice to dream. Life knows there is nothing else good to dream about.

“Nick, you know I hate hide and seek. It reminds me too mu-”

“Cassandra Oakens.” A hooded figure steps around the corner. “How very unpleasant to see you again.” The malice drips from his voice.

“Nick!” His name is pulled from Cassie’s chapped lips as she lands face-first in the snow, her foot caught in something hidden. Her fall is barely registered, except for the scream ripped out as snow bites into bare skin. “Nick, where are you?” She does not have the strength to stand back up and instead fades back into her memory...

“Nick? You want Nick? You want your big brother, do you?” The figure steps closer and Cassie can feel a bone-shaking chill rolling off him, but it does not seem probable. She must be imagining it. “Well, guess what, princess? We put him out of commision.”

She believes it, after all, he’s a god, isn’t he?

A god could never be so cruel.

Cruel? They aren’t just cruel. They are sadistic. They aren’t even Gods. Humans, she thinks, disgusted. They are of her own race, yes, but that doesn't mean she has to agree with their power-hungry, destructive ways. The damnedest thing is that she could never be surprised at their ways. After all, if she could destroy a company of ‘gods’ in revenge, why wouldn’t they be able to destroy humanity for greed?

“No. Don’t think about that. Get up. Get up and...” and fight. I have to fight. It’s so cold...

She stumbles to her feet. It takes her a moment, but she raises her eyes and surveys her surroundings. She seems no closer to the little cottage than she was thirty steps ago. The black smoke rising from distant, dying cities blotted out the pinkish orange colors of the setting sun, is the same as it is anywhere in the world.

Will it ever change? Will the stars shine again?

Cassie doesn’t know. She hasn’t seen the stars since she was five or so, and she doesn’t think she will again.

“Walk. Just keep... walking...” This line is all too familiar. She can remember thinking it just last month, though it seems more like yesterday...

Keep walking. You got out. Now you walk. Cassie can’t believe how tired she is. All she wants to do is curl up and sleep, but if she stops, she will be caught. The gods are after her, because she escaped them.

And now I’ll destroy them.

Every death of her family, every lash the so-called gods gave her, she will revenge it. She will ravage them as they have ravaged the world, ravaged her. Two years of torture, of imprisonment, was ample time to plan every move. To overhear conversations that were only for privileged ears, to find the weakest link.

Now all Cassie has to do is make it to the city. She can see the column of black smog that hangs over every city these days, and though it looks close, she knows it isn’t.

The infection in her leg makes walking brutal, but she does it, one step at a time. The migraine she has from being exposed to the full sun after the eternity she spent in that cell makes it hard to focus, but she has a purpose, so she does. She has to force herself out of her own mind, away from the thoughts that brought the pain back like it was still happening.

Cassie feels like she is still walking today. She vaguely remembers that the day after she escaped the gods ended, but it’s blurry and far away, and she isn’t sure if she remembers correctly. Everything seems likes it’s smothered in fog, maybe ice with how slow her brain feels.

When she stops focusing on the memories, the pain, she realizes she has crossed the field. She’s done it, she’s made it. She should be safe, at least for the night.

But it isn’t a cottage. The only hope she has left is torn away when she realizes how wrong she was. It’s not some place warm or even sheltering.

It’s just a tree.

It was her last hope. There’s nothing left now.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written for PDG Short Story Workshop, Lesson: http://bit.ly/KwlOuP

Word count: 997