Post Humanity

Chapter 3

Gently, Francis shook Lia's shoulder, she stirred and rolled over, "W...What?", she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and forced her stiff body to sit up. Francis was packing their few possessions into the two, ragged hiking bags that they carried, a rare commodity.

"We need to go," he said, blunt as usual. Ever since the incident with Avory, Francis had been more and more serious, Lia guessed that he wished that there was someone besides her in this world that he could trust. He was efficient as well, precisely packing the packs as lightly as possible, leaving junk and unnecessary items. Soon enough they were outside again, walking across the cracked and weed-ridden pavement. The city was silent, chokingly silent; a silence that pushes down on your eardrums with the force of a hydraulic press, a silence that caused their eardrums to strain to pick up the slightest hint of sound. They passed what had long ago been a lush, green park; now the greens had turned brown and grey. The grass high and wild.

"Are we leaving the city?" Lia jogged up beside the stern faced Francis as he walked ahead. He gave her a curt nod before returning to his long strides across the cracked stone. "FRANCIS!" she needed to know more. Francis was always like this. Suddenly all the anger that Lia had been feeling since the day that Avory left boiled up inside her. In a flash she had grabbed Francis and cracked her hand across his face, she looked him in the eye and through gritted teeth simply said, "I'm leaving," she turned on her heel and walked away, into the park.

She was sick of Francis, all the time he was like that, blunt. He didn't care about her, he didn't care what she thought. She was sick of it. She could hear Francis behind her, yelling at her to stop, but she ignored him and went into the long grass. She hid there for a long time, she knew Francis would give up; that he wouldn't miss her. As the sky grew dark and Francis' shouts had become a close, bad memory, she finally rose from the grass. In the pale moonlight she found her way to a gravel path. As she walked she listened closely, she could only hear the whistle of the wind, her own ragged breathing and... and footsteps, multiple sets of drumming footsteps drawing closer to her. She stood in shock, her heart racing. Her brain screamed at her to move, her muscles coiled together, ready to spring to life but they would not co operate. They rounded the corner, men dressed in dirty, black robes. When they saw her they started running, pointing with glee. 

Lia ran, her legs skidded around a corner, the men were shouting behind her. They were going to catch up with her. 

Suddenly her feet were caught up from underneath her, a long rope wound around a set of trees had wound itself around her legs. She could hear them getting closer, she could her their jeers as she struggled against the ropes trapping her. As she rolled onto her back she saw a masked figure approach her with a cloth, he knelt down and pressed it against her mouth and nose, the sweet smell of chloroform  forced it's way up her nostrils and she felt herself slipping into the abyss.

Lia's head hurt as if there was a one-thousand ton weight pressing against the inside of her skull. She raised her head up and found that her ankles had been bound.

She woke with her cheek pressed against a cold, hard stone floor. Her head ached with a dull, throbbing pain. As she got up her vision slowly swam like some sluggish sea creature; with each beat of her quickening heart her vision finally set on the rusty iron bars in front of her. Now she was panicking, her heart raced as she ran up and searched for a way out. As she screamed and shouted like a madwoman a set of distant footsteps grew closer. She reached round her back for the knife that wasn't there, she backed away into the corner of her cell. She stayed absolutely quiet. As silence fell over the room the footsteps grew more distant again. Across from her. A figure moved out of the shadows. "Really Lia," Francis smiled out of the darkness, "You got caught as well?" He sat down in front of the bars to face her.

"Who are these people?" Lia looked around,

"Bandits, well cultists really. They've been around for years now," Francis got up and looked outside of his cell. He looked at Lia and yelled in a strange language, Lia didn't recognise the language, but it sounded very strange. She wondered how Francis knew it. As he finished shouting a pair of men ran down the corridor. As they grew nearer Francis spoke quieter, when he finished the men laughed, one of them looked at Lia his eyes bright with glee, 

"Your friend here has guts, you will see them when he goes in the arena," he spoke poorly as if he hadn't spoken English since the start of the end. The pair laughed and nodded to Francis and left. 

"What is going on Francis?" Lia had known him for years but still did not know about Francis' past. Francis sighed and pulled up his trouser leg, showing a bright red tattoo, an eye with a pair of swords crossed in the pupil. Lia had seen that symbol on the men's arms, she gasped "You were on of them?" 

"A while ago, I have a bit of a past," he smiled, "I know a way to escape  but you are going to hate it."

"It has something to do with the arena doesn't it," Francis nodded,

"A fight to the death."

"Y..You can't, you'll die, they'll kill you."

"I need to, I'm the reason they got you. Don't worry." Lia didn't know what to do, she was still furious with him for being so cold all the time, but now she didn't want him to die, they'd been through so much and they needed each other. 

Cheers broke out, Lia had been pulled, kicking and shouting out of her cell and forced to watch. The champion stood in the middle of the dusty arena, clad in red robes and holding a savage looking knife. A door on the other side of the arena open and Francis walked out, he looked solemn and his face was like a stone, emotionless mask. He stopped within 10 feet of the champion, they both gave a short bow and raised their knives to their empty palm. Both of them made a cut and let the wound bleed spots of red onto the sandy floor. The champion stepped forward and the fight began.

He was fast, Lia knew Francis wasn't as good a fighter as her but he had done lots of martial combats before. His moves were calculated and precise; the champion dodged each attack and responded with an equally viscous stab of his own. Lia almost thought the two were at stalemate until she saw a fresh eruption of blood from Francis' cheek, opening a deep cut across his lip. He smirked and wiped the blood away. As the two faced off she could see Francis calculating his next move. He moved with grace, opening a cut in the champion's side and bringing him to the ground. In an instant the champion's arm was being bent backwards and although Lia was far away, she could hear the crunch of his arm breaking. For the first time the champion made a sound, an agonised scream as Francis stood up and held his knife at the champions throat. The crowd was silent, never before had the champion been bested. 

"I...I submit...Ash" the Champion gasped, loud enough for the crowd to hear. Who is Ash, Francis stood up and offered a hand up for the champion, who reluctantly took it and let Francis pull him up. The leader, a large man on the tallest seat within the seating area, stood up and clapped.

"Ash, it's been a while." he stepped down and jumped into the arena. Francis bowed low, "I've bested your champion, fulfil your deal. The leader let out a booming, thunderous laugh and nodded, he picked up the champions knife that was left abandoned on the floor and dropped it into Francis' hand. With no further words Francis climbed into the raised crowd and moved through the sea of bandits up to Lia, he unhooked the buckles holding her arms to the chair. They weren't stopped as they retrieved their packs and walked out of the dilapidated building.

As the building grew distant on the horizon Lia stopped and spoke to Francis, "who are you?" 

He turned. Francis stopped and turned around. He shook his head and sighed. "I..I can't tell you," he looked away, "I wish i could but you wouldn't forgive me if you knew my past."