Ashen

Part Thirteen

Excerpt from the foreword of On the Origins of Ashen, published c. 2231

In 2072, following the stalemate end of the Third World War- or Nuclear War- technological advancement across the globe was stunted, and North America was a radioactive wasteland. Death tolls continued to rise from the initial count of 4 billion, and those who survived on the coast were forced to find habitable land in the northern midwest of the United States and central Canada. This combination of desperation and migration is, of course, what led to the consolidation of the U.S.A. and Canada into the United States of North America we know today.

It was also in the wake of WWIII that the first children with Ashen characteristics were born. The seemingly harmless features of pallid skin and vibrant eyes was soon dubbed Ashen Syndrome. Over the next 75 years, Ashen Syndrome would evolve into the Ashen race, as every successive generation was born with more of the traits the race is now famous for.

It is in the pages of this book that I will chronicle the history of the Ashen race: from their biological mutation genesis, to their spread around the world, imprisonment in Russian labor camps and subsequent rebellions, then finally both the Ashen Civil Rights and Ashen Separatist movements of the 2140s and 2170s. The divergence of a new species has been the greatest test of human adaptability- a test that is still being struggled with to this day, and likely, into the future. 

Days passed, busy enough there was almost no time for tension, but the underlying draw between October and Jasper remained strong as they ran doggedly from horrific call to horrific call. Afternoon was fading to evening as they sprang from one traumatic clean-up to another scene hauntingly nearby.

As they approached the street, the radio spoke the five words every Hunter dreaded more than anything else: Target has engaged with bystanders. October lowered a lead foot, tires squealing across the cracked east-side roads, until they came to a stop before a vignette they'd yet to see.

Everyone was still out. Humans lingered by their doors, ready at a moments notice to go inside, but they were enraptured by the heroics taking place in the center of the asphalt: two local Ashen men clung onto the target, trapping the wild creature between them. It thrashed, ripped at the air with its nails, and snapped its jaws in vain. The men struggled, lines of exertion dug into their skin, but held their own just enough to wait for the Hunters to arrive.

It was then that a human bystander shouted that the cavalry had come while October and Jasper exited the cruiser consumed by shock. They neared the scene, guns out but essentially useless as the Ashen men blocked them from getting a clean shot.

Racking their brains for some way to move forward in this extraordinary circumstance, they were too late as the target rammed its pointed limbs into the ribs and stomach of its captors and fought free. The bystanders stumbled back, and those by their stoops frantically retreated inside, leaving the creature to locate the closest prey: a young mother holding a tired toddler in her arms. The pair had been out for a walk before the Diseased arrived, and weren't close enough to their apartment to beat the demon's hyperspeed.

October and Jasper rushed forward as the target howled, maw hanging wide, spraying acid that flew far enough through the air to land a droplet onto the skin of the toddler's arm. The boy wailed in pain, launching his mother into action. As the Hunters raised their weapons, she placed her son on the ground, and with a final kiss on the head, shouted for him to run. While her boy scrambled away and hid in a nearby alley, she performed the mother's greatest sacrifice- and stood between the rabid creature and her baby.