Atlas Abandoned

Atlas Abandoned (14 months since the crash)

The scene AGS-9 once carved into the wall of the cave had come alive! The trees swayed gently and the strange firework energy crackled as it soared upwards. Close to the ceiling of the cave the portal in space was etched into the rock and it, too, pulsated in Atlas' eyes. How could it? Atlas was hallucinating. He was groggy- exhausted; his head swayed back and forth as his eyelids twitched. Saying Atlas hadn't gotten much sleep over the last month was an understatement. He was focusing on his breathing because he couldn't focus on anything else at that moment. His eyes burned and Atlas didn't know if that was more from sleep deprivation or crying, but he didn't think he was capable of doing either at this point. Atlas knew the time to leave Camp Wellspring behind was upon him, but he felt as far from prepared as he'd ever been and came up with every reason possible to put off his departure for just a while longer.

Atlas forced himself to think about the last month to see if he had learned enough lessons to move forward. It was a nice break from the anxiety, melancholy and despair he'd been cycling through lately. It was better than the nightmares that had kept him awake.

He thought about his first rhino kill. He had been quietly sobbing, staring at the floor, on and off, for who knows how many days after AGS-9 died. Atlas was in no shape to do the axe training the android had prescribed with some of his last words. He only stopped to eat and drink, but once he ran out of food Atlas couldn't come up with any more excuses to stay frozen in place.

"This is how you starve to death, Atlas," he mumbled to himself. The hungrier he got, the more miserable he felt. The more miserable he felt, the less Atlas wanted to move at all, which only led to the hunger getting worse. With a sigh, Atlas strained, stood up, grabbed his axe- the arm of his dead friend, and made his way down from Camp Wellspring to hunt something to keep himself alive.

The way Atlas saw it he had two choices. He could go back the way they had come when they first got to the mountains and hunt some rats. It would be easy, but would also take a long time to collect enough food. Atlas' other option was to go forward in the direction he'd eventually be traveling anyhow. It was the land they'd been exploring for months since setting up at Camp Wellspring and he knew it well. There weren't many rats that way, but there were rhinos.

Atlas stared down into the forest behind Camp Wellspring. It felt like years since he and AGS-9 came desperately through it, yet there was a comfort in looking back. It looked appealing. It was the easy way. His legs wanted to move that way. He took one step, but stopped himself. Suddenly his brother, Pallas, popped into his mind. If Pallas were there, he'd have gone the other way- the hard way. He would have shown bravery, gone after a rhino, and killed one just to spite Atlas if he had to. Pallas had always pushed Atlas that final inch when Atlas was on the fence about something. If there were a challenge to face, Pallas was always eager to embrace it, even when he'd likely fail, just in case he could out-do Atlas.

The corner of Atlas' mouth turned up as he let slip the twitch of a tiny, brief smile. He turned and headed for rhino territory. He'd watched AGS-9 kill plenty of rhinos. He knew where to strike. He knew how to strike. He had just never been able to sneak up on one, and the last time he tried was when his leg got injured. Atlas came upon a rhino quickly enough. He kept his distance and readied his axe, waiting for the perfect moment. Atlas struggled to suppress the unsettling memory of the last rhino he encountered- the one that landed him in a cast. It was distracting him. He shook his head to focus, but in doing so Atlas caught this rhino's attention.