Legacy of the Birds: Book One of Spark(A MPHFPC Fanfiction)

Chapter Six

A little boat floated aimlessly on the sea.

It was eight days since they escaped the doomed ship. The boat's engine died two days ago. They just drifted with no food, no edible water, and no map.

Even with a map, they had no directions.

John didn't even know where they were. He was supposed to go to Florida, America, but floating on the vast Atlantic Ocean, he didn't even know how to reach any land. All his life, John had been running from wights and their monsters, he had seen people sacrifice themselves for the ridiculous hope that he may put an end to wight's tyranny, and now he's going to die of starvation and dehydration, without posing any practical threat to wights.

people will never know their hope eventually dies in despair.

He glanced at Blanche, who was glaring at the surface of sea water hopelessly. John knew they were both wondering the same thing: how long will they last?

*

The woman walked under the midday sun. The heat made the air almost unbreathable, scorching the desolation that use to be called Florida.

She walked past a pond of poisonous water. A skull that probably came from some big animal half buried in the toxic-looking liquid. A rusted remain of a vehicle lay on the ground, eroded by days. The woman kept walking until she saw a half crumbled house standing in front of her.

She stepped into the ruined house. A bat flew pass her. It's hard to believe lives could manage to survive in such a barren land, yet there were, just like her.

She drew some water from a well in the corner. This place was a desert now, water was no where to be found above ground. But if anyone dig deep enough, the underground water was always there for patient diggers.

She filled her bucket with water, then kneeled down in front of a simple trap. A little rat was inside.

She used to fear rodents, but in the last ten years, she had learned to capture them for food. They served as some extra meat besides Abe's caned food storage.

The rat was too small, so she loosened the trap and let it go. She only took preys that are big enough, and spare the younger ones.

She treated life with respect, for that was what set her apart from the murderers that ruled this damned world.

*

It will soon be over.

John knew that.

So he stopped worrying, stopped struggling against the fate.

He just lay on the boat with Blanche by his side, staring at the starry sky. He was always fascinating by the stars, obsessed with the way they decorates every night's endless darkness. Human's lives compared to these ancient lights are nothing more than a blink of an eye. If he's gone tomorrow, the stars would still be there, continue wheeling through the infinite dark.

"Our lives are so short compare to them," John thought, "and yet people still spend their lives fighting and killing one another."

"Have you ever dream of a normal life?" Blanche broke the silence, "A life without wights, monsters, peculiars. Just... normal?"

John turned at her, "I have been running from those monsters since I was eight, I can't even remember how it felt."

But then, he remembered.

He remembered the nights his grandma used to tell him the stories of her sister, a girl who could hold fire at her bare hands. He remembered the desire to explore, to learn more about her. "There must be more like her," he used to tell himself. Once, he longed for finding more peculiar people.