Liberation (Remnants of Men)

Chapter 15: Last House on The Left

Day Five

   With morning, even though the sun couldn’t still breach the thick grey clouds, the giant mushrooms folded and their beautiful glows faded.

Runner removed the last piece of clothing that bandaged his wounds. He touched the fresh scar left on his chest and still felt a bad sting. He needed more time to heal, but only half a month was given to the Remnants of Men to meet their objective and five days has been wasted already.

It was wonderful how nature seemed to take and give. Somehow, the large caps of the mushrooms merged to form a canopy that protected them from radioactive storms and highly acidic deluge. As much comfort the mushrooms provided, Runner knew they couldn’t stay there any longer, not unless they wanted to eat more edible worms and die of dehydration.

We need supplies, Runner thought.

On the floor, Troy and Angie laid across each other, still entranced by the magic of sleep. Runner squatted before Troy and shook him incessantly.

“Dude, wake up,” he said.

Troy rolled over and rubbed his eyes. “Goddamit! Runner, leave me alone,” he yawned and curled himself back to sleep.

Runner left him and walked to the foot of a mushroom plant. He bent and dug out one of its slimy roots and walked back to Troy. He lifted his friend’s shirt and forced the slimy root in.

“Snakes! Snakes! Troy, there are snakes in your pants!”

Troy scrambled in fear and jumped to his feet. He reeled backwards and the root fell to the ground. In Troy’s confusion, he stepped on its slimy surface and slipped off his feet, landing with a thud upon Angie who was sleeping.

The little girl began to cry.

Runner ran to her and put an arm over her shoulder. “Shhhh! Hush now,” he used his thumb to dry her tears, “forgive me, I was just being silly.”

“Yes, Runner, that was a brilliant idea,” Troy yelled, “I mean…the fact that I sleep and enjoy a dream of sexy women bringing me glasses of wine in my bathtub is the best recreation I can manage when not running away from FUCKING BUTCHERS with machetes. But then, I wake up and you know what? I see your face. The same goddamn face that reminds me that I might die in the next hour or minute.”

“Calm down, Troy,” Runner said.

Troy pointed his finger at Runner, “Oh, you want me to calm down. You want me to calm down. Is it too much to ask for one more hour of a good sleep? Is calming down going to change the fact that we are all going to die here and you don’t want to admit it. Of course you are Runner, the boy who ran things in Rat town. You pretend as if nothing can hurt you, but you almost died just two days ago.”

“I survived, thanks to you,” Runner replied.

Troy laughed, “come on, Runner, you are definitely not that naïve. You and I have seen it all in the wasteland. We both know that I only managed to postpone judgement day. How long do you think we can outrun the storm? How long do you think it will take before one of those freakish things get us? We have no food, no water, and no weapons to defend ourselves, not even shelter, no…nothing.”

Runner glanced at Angie, hoping she wasn’t listening to Troy as he killed any hope they had left, but she was.

“Where is this coming from Troy?” he asked.

“Tell me, is it true?” Troy spoke as tears welled in his eyes, “last night in your fever, you mumbled something about Rhiannon being dead. Is it true?”