Silent Horizons

Chapter 1

Current Day

They sat in a decrepit concrete building. The windows had been blown out during the last explosion. Large chunks of concrete strewn across the room, pieces of broken glass littering the ground. The war-torn landscape was coupled with an eerie, windy day. The air was heavy, feeling like it could rain at any moment. The grey clouds loomed threateningly above, withholding the cold Fall rain. The air static with electricity.

It was in this day full of anticipation that they hid. They knew something was coming. Quietly crouched in front of a window, he kept watch while she boiled water. A few moments earlier, he had hung up a dirty white sheet to filter out the chilling wind. It rippled and snapped with the gusts of frigid air. It was a futile attempt and they both knew it. They had dug a shallow hole in the rubble where they had placed small sticks and dried grass to make their fire. She had taken a while to light it while he anxiously peered around the curtain analyzing the road below. It was quiet, the broken and abandoned cars littering the road in silence. Although he understood her reasoning to go to the second floor, he couldn't help but be acutely aware of the lack of possible escape routes.

"Hurry up, we need to keep moving," he said while peering out for what felt like the hundredth time. Still nothing, the lifeless cars looking back at him, the leaves skittering across the road.

The woman glared at him and checked the water.

"It's not ready yet."

He glanced furtively away. He knew it wasn't. His nerves were getting the best of him. He hated being in the city. Although it had more supplies and shelter, he always felt like a sitting duck and could never fully relax. There was just too much risk, an easy chance of making a damning noise or seeing something they could never unsee – he had already seen too much.

He looked at her as she sat crouched beside the fire warming her hands. He wanted to yell at her and tell her to just hurry up. They were going to come. It would all be over soon; he just knew it in his gut. But he always felt this way. There was never a moment when he was able to lower his guard and relax in this horrible new reality in which they lived. He knew she felt the same and thus remained in silence, the air pregnant with things unsaid. Instead, he continued his watch. As he peered out the window onto the street below, a drop fell on his nose. He looked at the asphalt that was once a road. In the times of civilization, people would drive on these surfaces to get somewhere with convenience and ease. Now, they were cracked, and pothole ridden. To be avoided at all costs as they left you exposed and vulnerable. Not to mention the chance of twisting your ankle as you ran away from Them.

The rain pattered on the road, the fat drops creating spots all over until they disappeared.

"It's raining." he said.

"I know." She replied, her back still facing him.

"Do you think it rains where they are?"

"They are dead," She poked harder at the fire, tiny sparks flying in the air. "So, no I don't think it rains." She turned as she said this, glaring at him and signalling the end of the conversation.

His lips formed a tight line as he held in what he wanted to say. She never wanted to speak about anything other than what was strictly necessary. They'd never even shared their names. She handed him a cup of water and turned back to the fire. Holding the hot container, he looked at her, debating whether it was worth continuing the conversation. Although he didn't agree, they'd had this argument countless times before. It's easier for her to believe they didn't make it. How else could you explain a year left to rot in this hellhole while others live safe?