When We Shed Civilization

Chapter 5

The man in the studded leather jacket kept staring at Beth and her companions through the van's windows, his mouth a thin line, his dark eyes hungry. A bead of sweat had cut a path from his midnight black hair through the dust on his cheek.

The one with the scar on his face moved his lips as if talking. Prayer? Beth doubted it—these people weren't the praying type. And if they did pray, their gods would abide in the darker quarters of the heavens.

The giant didn't budge. He stood still like an antique, bearded statue—timeless and patient. The twins and the woman stood further away, their bows at the ready.

Three beasts, governed by want and greed.

Beth pressed herself against the back of her seat, shying from the bizarre reality of the scene beyond the glass.

"We need to play for time," Theodore said. "As long as we stay on the highway, Daniel will be able to find us once they get the chopper here. If the rats drag us off into the wilderness or the ruins, we're lost."

Beth doubted that the gang had the patience to spend hours here.

"Next time he knocks on the window, negotiate," Burt suggested. "Offer them something to eat. We've got plenty, and these rats must be starving. Their type always is. Feeding them will keep them busy, and maybe they'll even start cutting each other to pieces over the food."

Theodore shrugged. "I doubt it will work, but I can give it—"

The short man's axe hit the windshield once more. This time, the force behind the blow made Beth's teeth chatter as the vehicle swayed back from it. The impact left a palm-sized star of crack lines in the glass.

Like a giant snowflake—Beth knew them from old pictures.

"Shit," Burt said.

Snowflakes as they used to have, back when winter still existed and the earth had plenty of water.

"I'll talk to them. I'll offer the vermin food for—" Theodore began, but he was interrupted by the axe hitting the windshield again. The third blow was even harder and left another crystal snowflake next to the other ones.

There is beauty in destruction. Beauty of things destroyed—it might be another force that drove these brutes, lending even more fuel to their smiting and plundering.

Beth took a deep breath, groping her way back to reality. "Are you sure the glass will hold?"

Theodore didn't reply as he lowered the window. "Hey, wait!" he said through the slit. "I've got an offer to make."

The Asian-faced man moved closer to the van. "The only offer I wanna see is you surrendering that weapon and getting out, right now. Your minute is up." The words came one by one, hard and unfeeling like pebbles.

"We've got food." Theodore reached behind his seat into the basket with their provisions and held an apple to the window.

The man outside ignored the fruit. " Spike, give your axe to Rock," he said, with his gaze still focused on Theodore. "Then I'll count to three. If I don't have that pistol in my hands by then, crack that glass." He gestured at the windshield.

The giant took the tool from scarface's hands and placed himself at a forward corner of the van. For a moment, his gaze probed Beth. Then he lowered it to the bonnet.

"One," the Asian said.

The giant swung back the axe and froze in that position, poised and ready to strike his target. The three gangers at the edge of the road pulled their bows, aiming arrows at the vehicle.

"Wait." Theodore dropped the apple and placed a hand on the controls of the dashboard. "I've got something else."

"Two," the Asian said.

Theodore pushed a button, and the van's displays flickered to life. With a lurch, the vehicle jumped forward. It bumped into the giant, shoving him away.

"Take that, asshole," Theodore hissed and accelerated towards the archers at the edge of the tarmac.

The woman shot an arrow at the van. It skidded off the bonnet, hardly leaving a mark. Then all three archers jumped out of the way mere moments before the van's bumper hit the guard rail with the clang of metal.

Theodore put the gear into reverse, and they backed off in a left turn until the car's rear stood against one of the trees blocking the road.

The giant they had hit with the van got to his feet. He picked up the axe he had lost and made for their vehicle. Unstoppable, he looked, a hulk composed of anger, threat, and muscle—an embodiment of the raw, primitive, and mindless essence of his people.

His companions lined up beside him, the woman and the Asian to the right. Scarface and the two bowmen placed themselves on the left side.

Theodore lowered the window further. Once it was almost open, he held the gun out and pointed it forward, at the approaching gang. "Stop. Or I'll shoot."

The Asian shouted a command, and his people fanned out.

A shot rang, violent and angry.

Deafened, Beth watched the events unfold like in a tech age vid. It all seemed distant and abstract. The Asian and the two bowmen lunged to the right, jumped the guard rail, and dove for cover. The giant and scarface ran towards the van, bypassing it and bringing the vehicle between themselves and Theodore's gun.

Only the woman with the bow stood as if rooted in the potholes of the road.

She swayed and doubled over.

For a moment, nothing moved, and the world fell silent.

Then the Asian ran towards the fallen figure.

"You're next," Theodore said and took aim at him.

But before he could shoot, the axe swung into view from the right and smashed into the windshield. The deafening impact made the glass shatter, fracturing Beth's view into a myriad of crystals. A shower of fragments broke free. She caught a glimpse of the axe's head in an opening it had breached before it was pulled back, becoming a shadow that descended with the next blow.

This time, the windshield tore, a large flap of it folding inward like a board of rotten wood. Small splinters sprayed Beth's face and arms, but most of the glass stayed in one crumpled piece, loosely held together by ancient tech, hanging over the dashboard.

A hole gaped in the windshield now, spanning at least half its width and showing the Asian outside as he kneeled at the side of the fallen woman. To the right of him, behind the guard rail, the two bowmen pulled their arrows once more.

Theodore cursed, took aim at them, and fired.

Shots rent the air—the first one so loud it reduced the other ones to half-muted pops.

As suddenly as it began, the gunfire ceased.

Beth turned towards her uncle and found two arrows protruding from his flesh.

One pinned his chest. The other went straight through his neck.

This is EvelynHail 's breathtaking illustration of the scene above